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#it was so fun to walk around with one in Paris
verstappen-cult · 7 hours
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LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.
SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.
GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!
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yourusername
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yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋​🤍​
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user01 relationship goals
user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content
landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.
yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞​ maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁​👊​ ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me
user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast
user04 MY PARENTS
francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!
yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me
user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded
user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?
user07 the girlfriend effect is real
maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!
yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up
yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1 and 771,628 others
yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.
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user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute
user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER
user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea
danielricciardo disgusting
yourusername you're just jealous
charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(
landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.
maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES
user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen
user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen
user13 HE LOVES HER SM
yourusername
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yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺​🤍
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user14 they 😭​ stayed home 😭​ instead
georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.
maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me
user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????
user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭​
user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this
user18 MY OH MY
user19 yn's comment section always delivers
user20 happy for them and not at all jealous
yourusername
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yourusername 🖤​🖤​🖤​
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user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n
user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?
user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING
alex_albon where did you two go
yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone
oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you
charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI
user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA
user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other
user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.
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user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN
user28 all men should be like max verstappen
yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.
user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS
landonorris you actually made her look pretty
yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER
user30 they're so adorable its disgusting
user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them
charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands
user32 STOP THIS MADNESS
user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger
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© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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k0droid · 16 hours
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would they say the n-word / are they racist: twisted wonderland edition
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Inspired by @twstowo's taxes headcanon post.
I meant to post this during february but i just didnt.
REMEMBER THAT IS ALL FOR SHITS N GIGGLES. IF YOU THINK YOUR POOKIE IS/IS NOT A RACIST, REBLOG OR LEAVE A COMMENT
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GRIM: Yess that's my baby boy my son my son yes I give him the pass
RIDDLE: Couldn't waterboard the n-word outta him. Uses 'Off With Your Head' to punish anyone who uses slurs
TREY: Wouldn't. Not a racist and has no interest in saying the word.
CATER: Researches what's offensive to certain groups so he can stay respectful, no n-word from him
ACE: ace is literally that one white friend who thinks his n-word 'jokes' are funny (they're not) and he walks around with Riddle's collar because of that. He def went to a middle school named after a Confederate, but he's not racist for the most part "I play basketball so-" or "I'm gonna say the n-word: ninja!!" - 🥸
DEUCE: No. He's a good guy. He would never and if he said something remotely offensive, he'd apologize with tears
LEONA: YESS BLACK KING 🗣🔥🔥‼‼‼‼
JACK: Could and he does, but only occasionally. Punches the shit outta Ace's shoulder if he says something distasteful
RUGGIE: YES he just light-skinnted 😕 Ace would make fun of him for eating all the stereotypical foods
AZUL: Slightly racist. Just slightly. Seems like the type to get a lil tense when a tanned, well-built dude walks into the Monstro Lounge. starts clutching his pearls n shit
JADE: No, I don't really see him being racist or saying the n-word
FLOYD: Probably the least likely to say the n-word and would get offended that you even assumed. Like his entire mood would change if you mention it "Ehh Shrimpy? You tryna get squeezed? What made you think I would say that??" *fucking kills you*
KALIM: No, no n-word from Al-Asim. I could see him as a racist though. i think of kalim as purposely ignorant so in my mind, he's INTENTIONAL with his microaggressions but no one really calls him out on it.
JAMIL: Yes but only cuz I give him the pass.
VIL: Doesn't say the n-word (he knows better) but probably screams it in his thoughts. idk guys vil just seems a bit racist.
ROOK: Who's in Paris. LOL but I don't think he'd say the n-word. Also probably one of the least racist here. But he'd bring up eugenics in a convo and ruin the mood completely.
EPEL: I genuinely don't know if he would or not. Like because he from some rural area (to my knowledge, i js started book 5), i feel like he wouldn't because he'd know better. but i also heard that epel is misogynistic and hating black people & hating women go hand in hand (misogynoir)
IDIA: No but it wouldn't be surprising. i can already imagine him in that cod lobby. probably gets his slurs from cater
ORTHO: No my sweet child would not say the n-word. would blast idia out of this world with a charged beam if he said anything offensive
MALLEUS: No.
LILIA: Probably has said it before and is the most educated when it comes to black culture in the diasomnia group other than sebek (my 4c king)
SEBEK: No, in fact i might give him the pass (#mixedking😍❤️)
SILVER: No but probably a little colorist. yk how some black men love to scream from the mountain tops that they love white women? well silver is that white woman. js saying
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this was fun to make. pls remember that its just a silly post, dont get mad because only hit dogs will holler.
"what abt the staff/yuus/extras-" send an ask :3
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yoyokalicent · 2 months
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soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?
warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.
a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)
。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆
i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house
the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.
"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"
his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."
"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.
his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.
felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.
"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.
"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"
it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.
after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.
"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.
"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."
the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.
"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.
"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"
"you'll stay with me, princess."
i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"
the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.
he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"
your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.
you're his best friend for goodness sake.
"fi?"
fuck the thinks, "princess."
"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.
"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"
you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.
his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.
once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.
"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.
before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.
"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.
his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.
"sorry bout that, princess."
"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.
"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.
"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."
feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck
felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.
he loved it, right now, he longed for it.
farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.
stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.
"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?
"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.
but, not tonight.
"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.
"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.
the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.
he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.
he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.
the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.
just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.
your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"
"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.
"what the fuck, felix?"
"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.
"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.
you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"
"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.
"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"
you cut him off, "felix."
"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"
you cut him off again, "felix."
"i just-"
"you what, felix?"
"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.
you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."
"can't have them seeing what's mine."
your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"
"you're mine princess, finally."
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kelstey · 2 months
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invisible string
mattheo riddle x reader
warnings : smut
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REQUESTED
italics are flashbacks, each cut off is a different flashback/memory
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
"lights out everyone!" professor dumbledore yelled out. the silent movements of different rooms filled the hallway as everyone turned their lights off, no one was away to sleep - just yet, at least.
the first years had been allowed a trip to paris to celebrate the accomplishments of completing their first year at hogwarts.
a couple minutes passed by, the lock of the teachers' rooms could be heard, soon followed by a flick of the light switch. as if mattheo, theo, lorenzo, draco, and blaise's lives depended on it, they held their breaths as they wandered down the corridor, making their way to the room you were sharing with pansy and daphne.
the teeny, tiniest of knocks echoed through your room, signifying their arrival. the three of you giggled, having the boys sneak over into your room felt super grown up and who wouldn't want their crushes in their room?
you held in a breath as the door silently unlocked, opening the door to reveal the group of boys. "sh!" blaise smacked the back of draco's head as the floorboard underneath him creaked.
the five boys creeped into your shared room, trying their hardest to make as little noise as possible to avoid being screamed at by a professor for not only sneaking out - but sneaking into a room of girls.
you shut and locked the door, going over to your cramped single bed. it wasn't the most comfiest thing on earth but it would do for the meantime.
"hi," mattheo walked over, cramming himself into the bed with you.
"hi," you felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. thankfully the room was only lit with the tiny glow of daphne and draco's wands.
"i can't wait to go to the eiffel tower tomorrow," draco gushed. he was sat on the floor against the wall, facing all three beds.
"who?" theo asked.
"me-"
"asked."
the seven of you laughed silently, draco buffed and puffed, unimpressed at the 'lame' joke.
"that's not funny."
"it's quite funny," pansy giggled, covering her mouth.
"whatever," draco crossed his arms like an angry toddler.
the room filled with mixed conversations, different duos and trios speaking amongst each other, occasionally joining in with each others conversations.
you leaned back against mattheo's chest, your eyelids growing heavy, fighting off each urge to fall asleep as you wanted to continue speaking with the rest.
he wrapped his arms around your torso, allowing your bead to fall back onto his shoulder. mattheo grew slightly confused when you stopped replying, looking down at you only to realise you were asleep.
he pulled the covers up over both of your bodies, his arms tightening around you secretly hiding from the others. mattheo continued to speak, careful not to be too loud in fear of waking you up.
he was also sure to hush anyone whenever they raised their voice, claiming it was just so no one would get in trouble, but really he didn't want them to wake you up, either.
not even thirty minutes after the boys snuck in did everyone fall asleep. numerous snores falling from mouths, theo's obnoxious one waking you up.
you tried to move but quickly realised the reason you were so restricted was due to mattheo's arms around you. a smile formed on your lips, he was the first ever boy you'd fallen asleep with.
-
"riddle! y/l/n! get back here right now!" snapes voice rang throughout numerous corridors. mattheo grabbed onto your hand tightly, your feet running at a pace that you didn't even realise you could go at.
"we're so fucked," you giggled, continuing to sprint through the corridors, weaving your way past other students, your veins pumped with adrenaline, giving you somewhat of a high.
"that's part of the fun," mattheo turned his face to look at you.
you looked angelic. your hair was being flown back as you ran, the brightest of smiles plastered on your face. mattheo felt flowers blossoming in his stomach, the petals tickling the inner lining.
you were always beautiful to him, but at that moment? it was like he discovered a new part of you. all these years he had known you, and only just then did he truly think he found you. he saw you. and he loved each singular part.
the two of you made a sharp turn, finding yourselves in a vacant corridor. your breathing was sharp, your lungs desperate for as much air as you could possibly receive.
you leaned back against the wall, the smile on your face reforming when you looked up to see mattheo holding back a smirk. your lungs burned, your legs moments away from giving in.
"you're such a little shit," you laughed. you felt a stitch on your side, your hand going up to your abdomen to press on it. the adrenaline was still coursing through your veins.
"stitch?" he took a few steps closer to you.
"hurts like a bitch," you panted. mattheo removed your hands from the area, massaging his hand to try relieve the pain.
"always works when i get one during quidditch," mattheo looked down at you.
he leaned closer, his forehead pressed tightly against yours. the tips of your noses brushed against each other. his warm eyes dilated as they gazed around your face, be opened his mouth to speak but a voice cut him off.
"you two!" the rage of snapes voice, once again, echoed down the hall.
"shit," and the two of you were off, once again.
-
"trust me this stuff will get you baked," the crackle of the lighter lit up the twisted end of the joint. "neville said it's some proper muggle stuff. some sort of cake strain."
"jesus," you spluttered, the smoke going straight to the back of your throat.
"yeah?" mattheo smirked, his tongue poking through the inner of his cheek.
you took a couple more inhales, the weed taking its affect in just a few moments. you passed mattheo over the joint.
"hurry, people are gonna wonder where we've went."
"calm it," mattheo chuckled. he leaned back in the chair, his legs spreading apart and moving his hips up to adjust his position.
"i am calm," you felt your eyelids begin to droop. the truo of you took some more hits, finishing the joint as soon as possible in order to return to the party happening inside.
mattheo took a few more drags, the icy breeze of the wind brushed over you, a chill running down your spine. the hairs on your arms stood up, your hands crossing over to salvage any body warmth you had left from being out on the balcony.
"here," he stubbed out the joint. he took his blazer off, bringing it over your shoulders.
"thank you," you smiled up at him. his eyes twinkled as the light of the moon shone down on him, he was truly gorgeous. "come on now, birthday boy."
the both of you returned back to the party and noticed everyone was already drunk or on the verge of it. you wandered over to a table where pansy, daphne, theo, and lorenzo were seated at.
mattheo followed you closely behind, a dreaded feeling of doom lingering over his head as his paranoia began to settle in. he sat down at the table leaving no space for you.
"you're really gonna make me stand?" you teased, getting between mattheo and pansy.
"mhm," a singular arm wrapped around the back of your legs, his hand resting on your outer thigh, his face nuzzled into your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your already risqué dress.
"it's okay," you muttered, running a hand through his curly brown locks, fingers trailing through his scalp which brought him ease, and he could've fallen asleep then and there. he looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he took in your features.
he truly believed you were moulded by the hands of a true goddess.
mattheo spread his thighs apart, pulling you down by your waist to sit perfectly on his groin. "you look beautiful," his lips murmured against the ticklish skin of your neck, the sensation sending a tingle down your back.
"you don't look too bad yourself," you blushed. the others were too far deep in the conversation to notice the two lovebirds - or maybe they were doing it on purpose.
all light sources turned off, the party falling silent with confusion. shortly after, a light illuminated the room. the source coming from a cake being held by tom as be walked into the room, his legs taking strong, confident strides as he made his way over to the table with you and mattheo.
everyone soon gathered, irrupting into the infamous "happy birthday" song you quickly moved off of mattheo's lap before tom got too close, not wanting to raise any suspicions for anyone who didn't already see the two of you already getting a little too handsy.
tom placed the cake atop of the table, clapping once the song ended. mattheo's smile was wide and as bright as ever, his teeth pearly white as the candle light reflected off of them.
mattheo stalled for a second before closing his eyes, a swift blow and the candles were out. he had made his birthday wish.
everyone began to clap, you included. you cheered on, your smile soon faltering when mattheo's girlfriend made her way between you and mattheo, pushing her lips roughly against his.
you could feel your heart drop, your ears muting out the cheers and banter of the guests as they celebrated. your heart broke into a million pieces, his hands holding her close before he moved her onto his lap.
you had just forgotten that the two of you were just friends.
the lights came back on, everyone returning to their conversations, the music continuing to fill the room yet again. "are you okay?" pansy stood up, whispering quietly in your ear.
"i think i need some air," you blinked away the tears, trying to hold back what felt like a waterfall as your waterline filled with a thin lining of tears.
pansy wrapped one of her arms around your back, her head leaning against your shoulder as the two of you made your way out the party. you could feel your lungs gasping for air, a cry escaping your lips as the two of you entered the bathroom.
"it's okay, baby," pansy comforted you. your body just about collapsed onto the floor, though your jagged, distressed breaths for air seemed to be collapsing your lungs as well. you brought your legs up to your chin, allowing the tears to run free. "just breathe."
your mind was fogged, a million thoughts racing non stop as you tried to contain yourself. your eyes were glossy, bloodshot red, looking up at pansy as she rubbed your arm. "i think i love him."
-
the abrasive smoke found it's way to the back of your throat, the paper of the joint crinkling as loud as ever in the dead of the night. you had started to reconsider your clothing decisions as the baltic wind breezed over you, goosebumps arising on your bare legs.
fortunately, you were wearing a cozy hoodie that you would always throw on when you snuck outside in the middle of the night to smoke away, wanting nothing more than to simply escape your thoughts.
you caressed your forehead with one hand, the other holding the joint. you hadn't spoke to mattheo in weeks and it was starting to take its toll on you, you wanted to give him space, not wanting to interfere with his relationship, but it was proving more difficult than you anticipated.
the usual laughter that would be shared in and between classes was now filled with an awkward tension, neither of you wanting to break the silence.
late night wanders turned into late night cries, not longer having your usual companion to accompany you whenever you were finding difficulty sleeping. you mourned the 'loss' of your friendship, wondering what would have happened if maybe you had realised the immense feelings towards him sooner.
your mind was too clouded, distracted by numerous thoughts, too preoccupied to hear the footsteps appear behind you.
"i thought i'd find you here," you nearly froze, anxious at the thought of having been caught by a professor.
"mattheo," vou sighed in relief.
"that's me," he chuckled lightly. he closed the glass door behind him, taking a seat in the chair next to you. "you've been ignoring me."
"i figured you were too busy with your new girlfriend, now," you looked over at him. he looked disheveled, a faint stubble unshaved on his chin and jaw, his eye bags slightly darker than you remember, his eyes not as familiar as they once were.
"just because i have a girlfriend doesn't mean you need to cut me off," mattheo leaned back.
"don't do this to me."
"do what?"
you were brought back to the night of mattheo's eighteenth birthday, reminders of the tears that ran down your face when him and his girlfriend kissed, the way the world went silent around you but for everyone else; they were all happy for him and cheering.
"you know why i can't be your friend," you tilted your head as you looked at him.
"don't be stupid. you know you'll always be my friend."
"i don't want to be your friend, mattheo. that's the problem."
"what?" he was in a state of disbelief, wondering where all of this was suddenly coming from.
"i can't - mattheo...i," you fumbled around with your words, unable to figure out what you even wanted to say. now that it came down to it, every singular thing you wanted to say was suddenly stripped from your memory.
you closed your eyes, resisting the tears. you inhaled a sharp breath, trying to gather yourself as much as possible so you wouldn't break down in front of him.
"i don't want to see you with somebody else," your eyes fluttered open, a stunned mattheo looking back at you. "i can't just sit and pretend that i'm okay with the thought of another girl having you, because i'm not. i love you mattheo, but you're not mine."
you were unable to comprehend the emotion on mattheo's face. his eyes were wide, soft, but wide. his nostrils were flared, his fists tense by his side, his thumb rubbing over his index finger to comfort himself.
"say that again."
"what?" you breathed out, unaware of the deep breath you'd been holding in.
"say you love me."
"mattheo-"
"say it."
"i love you."
his movements were rapid, his hands finding their way to your waist, his lips fitting perfectly against yours. it took you a second to even comprehend what the fuck was going on, but you soon melted into the kiss.
his lips were rough, eager, but passionate as they moved. his hands roamed your body, longing to touch the body he knew so well. each curve, each freckle, each mole, each scar, his fingers traced
over.
an arm hooked around the back of his neck, your hand raking through his satin curls, a feeling you'd been missing for far too long.
mattheo's hands reached the back of your thighs, picking you up, your legs tightening around his waist. it didn't take long for him to find his way to your dorm, fumbling with the handle he finally managed to find his way in without dropping you.
his foot kicked the door shut, the steps he was taking felt like forever. you felt your body being placed against your familiar bedsheets, mattheo's body leaning over you.
it didn't take long for both of your clothing and undergarments to find their way onto the floor, discarded and forgotten about once mattheo's lips made their way back to your lips.
you'd never met someone with such soft lips yet rough kisses, light peppers and sucks as he trailed his lips down your jaw, making his way down to your neck.
"you're so fucking beautiful," he let out an exasperated breath, unable to come to the fact that you were fully real - and in love with him.
a mellow moan fell from your lips, mattheo's mouth falling around your hardened nip, capturing it with the light graze of his teeth. his calloused fingertips gently grazed down your body, one hand perfectly fitting around your other tit, his thumb toying with your other nipple.
you looked down at the boy, his brown eyes tainted with lust that consumed you, a fire igniting all over your body with how badly you needed him.
mattheo's fingers tickled their way down your torso, going right to where you needed him.
"fuck," he groaned, his fingers covered in a layer of your arousal. "so wet for me already."
wet kisses connect onto the sensitive skin of your neck, tilting your neck back to allow more skin for mattheo to mark and make his own. he let out a moan against your flesh, his hand pumping down his dick, lining himself up with you.
a gasp escaped both of your lips as he slowly began to slide into you, your walls stretching out against him. his hands found their way to your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin.
"fuck," he groaned, your nails dragging down the skin of his back, clawing away as he began to move his hips, rolling deeper into you.
he moved a hand from your hip, placing it around your throat. he squeezes around your neck, slowly adding more pressure as you let out even more unholy moans.
"just like that," mattheo grunted, your walls clenching around him with the feeling of his hands around your neck driving you absolutely insane.
"mattheo," you moaned. "god - fuck. please, i need you so fucking bad."
"good girl, tell me how bad you want me," his brows furrowed together, his pace beginning to fasten as he buried his dick further into your aching cunt.
"so bad," you gasped out.
"should've told me sooner," he threw his head back. "look so pretty under me."
you let out a whimper, your hands grasping at the sheets underneath you, twisting them tightly in your hand. mattheo's thrusts came in harder, your legs wrapping around the back of his thighs to get him even further inside of you.
mattheo leaned down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, choked moans erupting from his mouth.
"my fuckin' god," he continued to roll his hips, unable to get enough of you.
"mattheo-" a whine fell from your lips, your stomach tightening as you felt your orgasm build up.
"fuck- keep doing that, doing so well for me," he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"shit," you bucked your hips up, mattheo's hips slamming down against you, his pace growing sloppier and harder with each second that passed.
"just like that, god, such a good fuckin' girl," your eyes rolled back, stars sparkling before your vision went white, your orgasm crashing down on you like never before.
"fuck," mattheo grunted, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his cum spilling into you.
you let out a whimper as he pulled out of you, his body rolling into the space on the bed next to you. his hand trailed down your thigh, massaging it gently to calm the nerves that twitched throughout your jelly-like legs.
"i love you," mattheo pressed a kiss onto your shoulder.
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
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finelinefae · 25 days
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soft
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synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.
word count: 2.1 k
contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend
A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘
. . .
My girls' in the audience tonight.
I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.
Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.
She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her. 
She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine. 
The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.
When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.
When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.
I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.
I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.
"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.
"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.
"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.
"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"
I laugh, "You always nearly cry."
"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.
We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.
We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.
She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."
I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."
She giggles, "love you."
I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.
The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.
She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.
We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?'  I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.
I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.
Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.
"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.
It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.
"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.
She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.
"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"
She smiles and kisses me again.
We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.
I literally have a crush on this woman.
And she's my fucking girlfriend.
What did I do to get this lucky in life?
"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.
She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.
"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.
I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.
"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You promise?" She pouts.
"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.
She gasps, "You have chub too!"
I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"
She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.
I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.
After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.
"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.
Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.
She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.
There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.
"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.
She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"
"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.
I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.
"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.
"I hope so," She whispers.
I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.
"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."
I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.
"Both," She says in between kisses.
This girl. 
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britishchick09 · 2 years
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204 rue de rivoli, where rewrite nadir’s flat is! :)
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theemporium · 7 months
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poly drivers (literally any idk they can all take me to Paris) reacting to a media personnel making a comment about reader… 👀👀
a mood💀thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“My next question goes to the two fellas on the right.”
You pressed your lips together to try and bite back your smile as you watched Max subtly roll his eyes as he reached for his microphone. 
It never failed to amuse you how much the boy hated media duties, even after so many years being involved with the sport. He hated it, he thought it was a waste of time, and if he could avoid it, he would. 
Meanwhile, Charles sat next to him with a charming smile on his face. Despite his questionable acting skills, he was a performer in front of the cameras. He seemed to naturally know what people wanted to hear, what they wanted to hear from him. He seemed to have the media stuff under lock and key after so many years of having a camera shoved in his face. 
And conferences like this one—where both your boys were in one group—were your absolute favourite to watch. Just seeing the mere difference in the men you loved never failed to entertain you.
But as quickly as your good mood came, it quickly dropped when you heard the reporter's question. 
“Do you think sharing the same woman has helped your relationship on track or made it worse?” 
Your stomach dipped as the room fell silent, only the clicking of cameras and scribbling of pens on notepads could be heard. You didn’t care about the other journalists gawking at you, or even the other drivers on the couch. Your eyes were firmly glued to your boys.
Charles was frowning, a look mixed with shock and disbelief written across his face. Your boy in red liked to see the best in people, expect the best in people. And you could actively see his brain trying to work around the question to see if he just misunderstood what the man had just asked. 
But Max was a different story. 
His face was stoic and the glare he sent the reporter was almost bone-chilling. You honestly expected him to storm off, or even throw something at the reporter—to act out in the way you knew he was constantly scolded about by the Red Bull PR team. 
What you weren’t expecting was for Charles to be the first one to speak. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 
The shock and surprise was clear on everybody’s face as Charles straightened up in his seat, his brows furrowed as he stared at the reporter in disgust. The man opened his mouth to speak, to probably defend himself, but Charles didn’t give him the chance. 
“No, seriously, who do you think you are?” Charles continued, his accent coming out a little thicker as he spoke. “We are racers. This is our job. Our relationship has nothing to do with anything, and it’s disrespectful that you would even bring it up, let alone talk about our girlfriend like she’s an object. She’s a human, unlike whatever you are.”
You stood there, mouth agape at the words that just came out of your boyfriend’s mouth.
However, Max almost looked proud before he lifted the microphone to his lips.
“You’re a fucking dickhead, have fun completely ending your career,” he stated simply with a smug look on his face before he dropped the microphone, not even bothering to listen to the media managers as they scrambled to get him to sit back down as he walked out with Charles following. 
Your cheeks burned as everyone turned to look at you, but you didn’t pay them any attention as you quickly slid out of the conference room. You barely made it three steps out the door before you felt an arm winding around your waist and tugging you towards a hard body, the smell of Charles’ cologne hitting you seconds later. 
“Amour,” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you like he was scared you would disappear. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“Shh, it’s not your fault,” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around him, your fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck as his body sagged against yours. “You were quite bold in there.”
“Didn’t like the way they were talking about us,” he grumbled.
You lifted your head when you spotted Max a few steps away, the smug look still painted across his face as he reached for you, his hand placed on the small of your back. 
“Personally, I think that was the best conference I have ever been a part of,” Max commented with a shrug, his smile widening a little when he saw you snort. 
“Be nice,” you chastised.
“I am,” he defended. “It was hot.”
“It was,” you agreed, and Charles’ arms tightened around you. 
“Let’s get him fired,” Charles said suddenly as he lifted his head to look at you both, trying to ignore the fact his cheeks were burning at your words. 
“I think he did that fine on his own,” Max said.
“No, I want him fired,” Charles frowned. “I don’t want to see him near a paddock ever again.”
“Okay, calm down,” you murmured as you ran your hands up and down his back. “Let’s just get out of here and let you cool down before you do something irrational. I think you’re on an adrenaline high.”
“I don’t like people who say things about us, about you,” Charles huffed.
You smiled as you leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss against his pouting lips. “And I appreciate that very much, baby.”
“Our knight in shining armour,” Max teased, only to wince a little when you pinched his side. “Kidding, schatz, I love you both.”
“Better,” you grinned before pecking his lips too. “Let’s stop by the Red Bull motorhome before we head back to the hotel, I want more of those churros.”
Max snorted. “Whatever you want.”
.
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mochinek0 · 3 months
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Family Secrets
Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.
"Nonna!" she cried.
'Grandmother?'
"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.
"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"
"Egypt." his mother declared.
The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"
His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.
"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."
"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.
"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.
Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."
"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"
Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.
"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.
"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.
"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."
"Yes!" the girl cried.
Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.
It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.
"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.
Gina walked in Damian's direction.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.
"Of course not!" Gina snapped.
"Who is she?" he asked.
Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."
"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.
"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."
She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."
"What was it?" Damian asked.
"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."
"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"
"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."
"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject
"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."
"What about the man?" her son asked.
Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."
"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.
"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.
Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.
"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."
Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.
'Clothes? Designs?'
He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.
'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'
"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."
The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.
'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'
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forzaferraris · 2 months
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UH OH ! — cl16. [ series masterlist . part ii . ]
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CHAPTER ONE / gorgeous.
❛ you should take it as a compliment, that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talked. ❜
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summary : usually, birthday parties are supposed to be a close friend's and family celebration, so why on earth are you being dragged along as your friend's plus one?
warnings : implied references to cheating. food mentions. vomiting mentions but not explicitly written. sexual themes, inuendos. a purposeful choice to refuse to write without capital letters. too many taylor swift references. google translated french. no use of y/n but reader is referred to as soleil by charles and that transfers on through all the fic. charles leclerc's toxic relationship. alcohol consumption, drink responsibly. suddenly charles leclerc is actually decent at flirting. inaccurate storyline of pierre's birthday. 2023's silly season just got sillier. live laugh love kika gomes. word count : 1.7k
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yourusername just posted to her story . . .
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[ caption one: hot girls always do skincare 🧖🏻‍♀️ / caption two: i fear i girlbossed to close to the sun, how did i end up here ⁉️🤨 ]
THE STREETS OF PARIS , were lively enough that you could blend in seamlessly, everyone else dressed essentially to the nines in their finest attire, walking in and out of all the restaurants in the vicinity. you want to cower, wrap the shall around yourself tighter and hide away; you'd never felt more insecure and out of place in the entire month you'd been vacationing in france, until this very moment.
everyone around you exudes the amount of confidence that comes naturally to them that you wished you had, even if you felt genuinely good in the outfit Kika had practically forced you in when you'd briefly mentioned having nothing to wear to the event she'd asked you to tag along to. a part of you wants to remind yourself that you knew better than to expect things to play out differently, it wants to ridicule you for going back on your usual stance of always expecting disappointment to no longer feel disappointed.
you wave off a taxi that pulls beside you, you're already at your destination, and a fleeting wave of nausea makes you want to clench your gut, and hurl what little you'd eaten earlier throughout the day into the hedges beside you; you don't, thankfully. instead, you resort to the safety of your phone, back-and-forth bickering between your best friend and Kika to work up your nerves to get yourself inside the building.
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you feel wobbly on your feet, something you will also plan to blame on Kika when you find the courage to get yourself to walk in through the door of the Laperouse, a considerably more elegant spot to eat at than you would have picked, you only dread the fear of looking over the menu and bearing witness to the prices of the food.
the ding of the bell above the door pulls your head out of your phone when you're met with the silhouette of quite possibly the most attractive man you'd ever had blessed your gaze — excluding that one time you'd run into lorenzo zurzolo on a girls trip to madrid and fumbled the whole ordeal so embarrassingly you had to block him on instagram to keep from ever seeing him.
his actions are almost more exaggerated in frustration than you'd plainly described to your friend, his hand is constantly dragging down his face when he pulls the phone away from his ear, promptly allowing you to hear the snippets of french being, basically, screamed through the phone at him. yikes. the phone call seems to drag on and the amount of time you've been staring at this man can be somewhat considered borderline stalking if he wasn't uninterested in the world outside the french screaming match on the phone.
deciding you'd done enough oogling to satiate for the brieft maladaptive day-dreaming you'll experience during mundane errands. with the very little courage you had, you wipe your hands on your dress, pitifully, and tuck your phone into the clutch before making your way inside. you're blissfully unaware of the way the man had turned towards the noise the heels of your shoes had made against the pavement, his attitude doing a complete 180 had him disregarding the remainder of the phone call before finally giving up, a defeated sigh follows the silence of the call being ended.
'i told you so. . .' your brain supplies when you feel even more out of place being inside said restaurant than how you were simply just standing outside of it, you felt both over and under-dressed watching the mass of patrons standing at the front bar along with the glimpses you could get inside the dining room from where you wait at the hostess stand.
"can i help you?" the hostess asks, words sleek with her french accent as she flicks her gaze up towards you before down at the booking book in front of her. you fiddle with your fingers, white-knuckling the black clutch, suddenly unable to find your own words. the woman rolls her eyes, and taps her perfectly manicured finger against the book and you visibly shake.
"elle est avec moi et la réservation Gasly" a voice speaks, standing behind you, close enough to be flush against you, but remaining a finger length away from you, refusing to lift your head, you don't dare look at who's just saved yourself from any more bouts of unwavering embarrassment for the night.
"profite de ta soirée" the hostess grins, it doesn't shine in her eyes and it's clearly a put-on customer service smile, forced to maintain a friendly atmosphere within the restaurant, you're allowing yourself to be lead through towards the private dining room, stepping away from the man, you mumble a simple thank you in your own butchered french pronunciation as you spot kika and find yourself attached to her hip for a majority of the night.
f1wagsgossip just posted to their story . . .
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[ caption one: @yourusername spotted arriving at pierre's birthday party / caption two: @yourusername wearing the monot black maxi cutout ]
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now, see if you weren't the type of person to be so easily persuaded into joining in on the drink festivities, you wouldn't have ended up with kika as one of your closest friends. you were never one to turn down alcohol, especially open bar alcohol; which is perhaps why you'd found yourself in a state of being a social butterfly, you'd floated around the room, meals long since eaten and cleared by the wait staff left people standing around and conversing.
mixtures of english, french and portuguese filling the room, bits and pieces of conversations you were picking up, but with your minimal understanding of french you found yourself avoiding anything beyond "hi how are you?" and introducing yourself, aside from that you smile and nodded before politely excusing yourself to float around once more.
"are you purposely ignoring me?" there it is, the sound that would haunt your best dreams and your worst nightmares; the shiver that runs up your spine makes you inadvertently cringe at yourself, how were you this reactive to a voice, you're going to blame the entire thing on the amount of sparkling moscato you'd been drinking by the glass.
"hm? no, no i'm not ignoring you?" you mock his accent, turning around to finally make eye contact with him, lips pursed into a line to keep yourself from giggling, the bubbles in your stomach is either your own nerves, the bubbly alcoholic beverage you'd consumed or a mixture of both — either way you feel content enough to be less than self-aware of the situation.
you can almost see the way he visibly lights up at the interaction, the way can't hold himself back from laughing at your attempt to mock his accent, the way his eyes crinkle and the laughter that follows the expression leaves you virtually speechless, you'd never been in a situation where someone, especially not a man. had ever laughed at you in a way that didn't feel the least bit mocking towards you; his laughter subsides and you feel yourself mourning the noise, head tilting to the side before he's taking a sip from his own glass.
"how do you know pierre?"
"through kika, she's the sole reason i'm here" you explain, gesturing with your hands as you talk, the conversation carries on throughout most of the night, new drinks replacing old ones all whilst the distance between the two of you closing inch by inch and shamelessly, perhaps even a little selfishly you allow it.
you allow more than just close proximity, you allow his knee to knock against your own, the hand to graze your waist as his arm moves around you to put his empty drink on the bar. you allow yourself to meet his gaze, hold it and find yourself lower and lower your own inhibitions. the good, the bad and the ugly of a man who hasn't asked for your name and whose name you hadn't bothered to ask for either.
perhaps, it's the events of the night that led you to here, in this heat of the moment pursuit of pure guiltless drunk happiness, lips against the nap of your neck in the back of a taxi, a hand dragging dangerously up your thigh, closer and closer to a spot you hadn't known longed to be touched until now. you're mutual shouts of laughter are shared through the streets of paris, leading into the hotel room you'd been staying in for the week, you're set to check out the next morning, but realistically, what's one night of parisian fun to end your trip with a bang, literally.
"soleil, fuck, the things you are doing to me right now" his voice comes out like a growl against your ear, his teeth dragging along your ear lobe and further down your neck, never biting, just allowing the feeling to pull the breathless noises out of you. your hand finds its way to nestle into his hair, grip tight and pull him away, the way he looks at you, a gaze you're all far too familiar with, lust.
god, had you wished you knew life wouldn't feel so horribly if you'd felt like this the entire time, the way the man finds himself home between your thighs, even as they clench around his head as soon as his tongue flicks against your abused and overly sensitive clit, fingers working their way in and out of your as you're pushed to complete your third orgasm — your hands griping the pillow behind your head, back arching as you moan out breathlessly, the needy coil in your stomach untangling once more as he pulls the orgasm out of you; your left breathless and shaking as your ride out the orgasm on his fingers.
his face is glistening with your juices; god if you were brave enough to take a picture you would have, he looked effortlessly pretty as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and finally pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean.
you were royally screwed. even after you woke up in the morning, he was still asleep, but check-out was soon and there really wasn't any need to actively remain in the hotel room bed any longer, even if the man sleeping beside you was dreamy, even asleep, you knew alcohol-influenced one night stands were less than impressive to boast about the next morning. so you do the easiest thing to bypass awkward morning conversations, you leave a note with your number and leave.
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yourusername just posted . . .
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liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 489 others yourusername are you happy to have been in paris? oui! tagged francisca.cgomes
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user girl, what is that on your neck in the second pic?? ⤿ yourusername the question is are you a narc?
francisca.cgomes paris couldn't handle us for longer than a week ⤿yourusername where too next gf x
yourbestfriend i miss you come home ! ⤿yourusername i think i might find a new home ⤿yourbestfriend you're really gonna abandon our kids like that?
user since when have her an kika been friends? ⤿user since like forever, they grew up together
yoursisteruser look at you being a slut pookie, we love to see it ⤿yourusername get out of my comments blocked and reported ⤿yoursisteruser can you answer my facetime now, you got a lot of catching up to do, this is new name lore !!!
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authors note : hi oh my god, so i'm absolutely nervous to actually have this be posted, it's not been beta read so i apologise in advance trying to edit this myself was the longest task i've come to find myself tethered to. i really like the plot of this story, the smut a lil dry because my smut writing is dry, we gotta work ourselves up to that, later chapters pookies, later chapters. i would have added more to the story, i'm like super inspired by this, but alas the 30 image limit said, no. so we gotta listen !
add yourself to the taglist here !
taglist : @iluminaya @greenbaby12 @therealcap @marshmummy
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okaylikesmomo · 7 months
Text
Chapter 7: Paris
le sserafim smut, ~6k words, chaewon, kazuha, male reader
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“This is so cute!”
“I heard you wanted to go on a date in Paris,” you chuckled. “You like it?”
“Like it? I love it!” Kazuha gushed. “How did you set this up so quickly?”
“I had to pull a few strings,” you smiled at her as you pulled her chair back.
“Wow, you must really like me,” Kazuha teased while taking a seat. “Oh my God!”
The excitement on her face as she looked at the variety of breads on the table was enough to make this whole endeavor worth it. Maybe it was your history dating idols, but you were definitely spoiled by their intense reactions.
“I think they call that bread.” you chuckled, taking a seat across from her.
“Why are there so many?”
“Because you deserve all the breads!” you laughed as you watched Kazuha gawked at the table.
“When are you going to take me to the real City of Love?”
“I think I’d get in trouble if I stole you and flew away in the middle of promo week.”
“I’d let you steal me,” she said slyly as she began buttering up a roll.
“How is it?” you asked, already knowing the answer as Kazuha physically leaned back into her chair, looking up at the roof in a state of utter satisfaction.
“It’s so good,” she moaned, her voice wavering as if she was about to spill tears over a simple bite of bread.
“Save some room, there’s a whole meal to come,” you laughed, overflowing with happiness at Kazuha’s antics.
Before you knew it, the appetizer, main course, and dessert had been served. Dinner was a mostly silent affair as Kazuha was far too busy with the food, only sparing enough time to drop a flirty one-liner here and there as she worked on finishing every bite from dishes she couldn’t even pronounce.
“Wow!” Kazuha gasped, even making the waiter smile through her excitement as they torched the sugar in front of her.
“Have you had it before?” you asked, tapping the top of your own little cup with the back of your spoon.
She shook her head excitedly before breaking the sugar layer with her spoon and giving it a taste. As usual, her reaction was excruciatingly cute as she alternated between a flurry of astonishment, shock, and content. She admired the little white ramekin with a bliss-filled expression on her face for a moment before looking up at you with wide eyes.
“How is it?” you smiled.
“There’s only one thing at this table I’d rather eat,” she moaned.
“Huh? What would you… oh,” you facepalmed, disappointed that you fell for her cheesiness.
“Have you brought Chaewon here before?” Kazuha asked with a smile, proud of herself as she took another bite.
“Not yet,” you answered, thinking back to the time when you brought Sakura here.
“I think she’d like it.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll bring her next time.”
“Or you can just bring me again,” Kazuha giggled, scraping her spoon around the bottom of the dish.
“Are you asking me out?”
“Depends, will you take me out?”
“After tonight? Always.”
“Then let’s talk about where you’re taking me while you drive me home,” Kazuha smiled, wiping her lips with her napkin and standing up.
Despite her suggestion, you drove her back to the dorm in silence. Suddenly, Kazuha seemed to be a bit nervous, you even noticed her leg shaking slightly, but you decided not to comment on it. Once you got to the dorm, you contemplated whether or not you should come in, but your decision was made when Kazuha stopped walking two steps away from your car and looked over her shoulder expectantly.
Still, without saying any words, you walked Kazuha all the way to her room. All the other members were nowhere to be seen, the house was mostly silent. As you got to Kazuha’s door, she turned around and looked at you with slightly blushed cheeks.
“Tonight was fun,” she said softly.
“Yeah, it was,” you replied, trying to figure out what she wanted.
“Do you…” she began before stopping.
“Do I?”
Kazuha leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on your mouth before leaning back.
“Goodnight!” she shouted before hurrying into her room, closing the door behind her.
“Goodnight…”
“Still awake?”
She answered by cheerily patting the bed next to where she was sitting with a tablet in her lap.
“Whose fancam are you…” you began asking as you sat down and looked at the screen. “You’re watching your own fancam.”
“Yah! Stop judging me, I like to monitor myself, so what,” Chaewon complained as she turned off the screen and leaned over to place the device on her side table, the blanket lifting off her as she bent over, flashing you her bright pink underwear. “Did you have fun with Zuha?” she asked as she leaned back, cuddling into your arms.
“I did,” you mumbled as you ran your fingers through Chaewon’s short hair. “Kazuha’s great.”
“I know,” Chaewon laughed into your chest, laying her face on you. “Where is she now?”
“In her bed, I think.”
“Wow, didn’t you guys just get home? Guess you had some stamina issues tonight,” Chaewon teased. “Not that I blame you, Zuha is a hottie.”
“We didn’t.”
Chaewon lifted herself up and looked you in the face.
“I’m starting to think you don’t want to sleep with her.”
“Of course I want to,” you replied. “You said it yourself, she’s a hottie.”
“Do you not believe me when I say it’s fine?” Chaewon asked, face full of confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I do,” you said, rubbing your hand against her back. “I literally just told you I want to sleep with her, would I do that if I didn’t believe you?”
“Probably,” Chaewon smirked. “You tend to gush over her a lot.”
“That’s true,” you smiled back. “She’s just so… precious.”
“Wanna give it another try tomorrow?” she asked nonchalantly while spinning in the bed and reaching for her phone.
“Why does it seem like you really want me to sleep with Kazuha?” you questioned while placing both hands on her ass, pressing into the pink panties.
“You don’t get jealous when I fool around with Kkura and Yunjin, why should I get jealous if you fool around with Zuha?” she answered without turning back around, flipping through her phone.
“So, what about that surprise?” you asked slyly as your hands squeezed and played with her supple ass. “Do you still wanna get all sore?”
“The condition for the surprise was that you actually slept with her,” Chaewon tutted, rolling onto her stomach and taking her shirt off.
“What an odd reality,” you said while climbing over her legs, straddling her lower body. “It really feels like my girlfriend is begging me to sleep with one of her friends.”
“I have… my reasons…” Chaewon grunted as you pressed down into her body.
“How’s the comeback stuff going?” you asked while working on the knots in her shoulders.
“It’s… good… busy…” she moaned, tossing her phone to the side and leaning her face into her pillow. “Lower please.”
“Not too much though, I hope?” you continued down her body, reaching around her chest to give her tits a quick grope before working her middle back.
“I can handle it,” she said before releasing a drawn out breath through her teeth. “Oh yes…”
“I know you can handle it,” you said, moving farther down her spine, pressing into her lower back.
“Ah fuck,” she cried out, arching her back slightly.
“Sorry.”
“No,” she moaned. “More.”
“So,” you continued, sliding lower on her body and working her lower back. “Why are you so fixated on me and Kazuha?”
“She’s being shy,” Chaewon grunted as your fingers explored her muscles. “I just want her to open up.”
“Open up…” you repeated, rubbing your thumbs in small circles, pressing harder.
“Yeah,” Chaewon continued. “She’s never gone all the way with me, I want her…”
Your hands paused the massage. She turned her head just a little into the pillow and tried to get you to keep going by reaching behind her. You jerked your arm away and slapped her ass, secretly admiring the jiggle while she whined until you started your massage again.
“It’s not like that,” Chaewon said, clearly smiling despite hiding her face in the pillow.
“I feel used.”
“Oh boo hoo you have to sleep with a gorgeous girl,” Chaewon laughed, turning around under you so that she was laying on her back. “What ever will you do.”
“I didn’t know this was how you actually felt,” you sighed, exaggerating your disappointment as you cupped her tits in your hands. “Turns out I’m just a tool for you to get what you want.”
“You’re not actually upset, are you?” Chaewon asked, propping herself up on her elbows slightly.
“I can’t even look at you the same way anymore,” you monologued dramatically, sliding your fingers down from her tits and rubbing her abs.
“Sweetie.”
“Even as I touch these abs, I don’t even feel Chaewon anymore, all I can think about is Kazuha.”
“Hey!” Chaewon pouted. “That’s mean.”
You leaned forward and kissed her tummy before sitting back up and smiling at her.
“Sorry, too far?”
She fell onto her back, crossing her arms, lips still pouted.
“I was just kidding,” you pleaded, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around her. “Sweetheart, no mad.”
She didn’t stop pouting until you kissed her on the lips.
“I love your body,” you whispered into her mouth before kissing her again. “It’s perfect.”
“Tomorrow,” Chaewon replied, kissing you back. “She has to - stay late - surprise - her,” she breathed between kisses.
“I better be invited when Kazuha ‘opens up’ to you,” you smirked, laying next to her.
“Alright, the truth is she asked me directly,” Chaewon confessed, turning on her side to face you.
“Asked you what?” you implored. “I know you said she found me cute, but…”
“Yes,” Chaewon answered. “I know she wants to go all the way with you, because she straight up told me.”
“Then why does she keep…” you thought aloud. “Ah, okay I think I get it.”
“See what I mean about her being shy now?” Chaewon added. “I love both of you so much, I really don’t mind if it happens as long as it stays physical.”
What if it doesn’t stay physical you thought silently.
“Also, if things work out well, it’s better for me,” Chaewon continued.
“How so?”
Her lips curled up slyly as she slipped her hand between your legs.
“Zuha and I made a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” you asked as Chaewon slipped her hand into your pants.
“I’ll tell you after you help me fulfill my end.”
“Some encouragement would help,” you suggested as she lowered your pants to your knees and began sliding under the sheets.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Sweetheart I’m joking, you don’t have to,” you said as she ignored you, disappearing beneath the sheets. “I know you’re tired.”
Still, she didn’t speak, her mouth instead planted itself on your cock. A symphony of sensations unfolded, amplified by the fact that you couldn’t even see her, only feel. Her warm lips enveloped your cock, gentle, tantalizing suction dancing along your sensitivity.
The wetness of her tongue created a blissful contrast of feelings as it explored every ridge and contour. The skilled caresses of Chaewon’s tongue around your cock felt divine - she knew what you liked. The pressure and rhythm of her lips were perfect, invoking a deeper sense of desire within you.
“Oh Chaewon baby that feels…” you moaned out softly. “Oh fuck…”
Her tongue, the perfect instrument to your pleasure, invoked a myriad of sensations through your body. Her talent as a dancer, the body control, the skill, it all condensed into her tongue as she expertly sent shivers up your spine. Her tongue managed to stay nimble and agile despite her lips plunging up and down your length.
“Baby…”
Waves of pleasure coursed through you, heightening the sensitivity in your cock. The gentle flicks and swirls, the occasional press against your shaft and your tip, she managed to do it all while keeping her head bobbing up and down.
Not being able to see her working her magic turned out to be the greatest travesty - one you could not accept any longer even though it enhanced the feel. You flung the sheets off the bed, revealing Chaewon’s perfect topless body. She looked up at you, never losing pace, her eyes full of pride and confidence, her mouth stretched over your cock.
It was almost embarrassing to admit you were already feeling your orgasm creeping up. All that subtle foreplay was catching up with you, and seeing Chaewon with her lips wrapped around your cock was the impetus for your climax.
“Chae chae, I’m close…” you moaned softly, earning a seductive wink from her, the nonverbal permission.
Your arousal built up, reaching the peak, turning your body into a vessel of sensations. Waves of pleasure surged through you, spreading like an electric current. The muscles in your thighs contracted, tense, stressed by the anticipation of your cock being moments away from coating the inside of Chaewon’s pretty little mouth.
Your heart began to race, breaths rapid, and your mind quickly became overwhelmed with euphoria. The pleasure suddenly culminated, focused directly into Chaewon’s mouth as that first blast of cum launched itself down her throat.
It was as if the universe paused itself for you, converging into that single, exquisite moment. Your body convulsed, pulsating as you filled her mouth with your cum. Pure bliss, ecstasy, filled your mind as the contractions flowed through you like waves.
The pleasure left you breathless, completely unable to do anything but lay there and let Chaewon suck up the final donations leaking out of your cock. It was too much, even with her licks being as delicate as possible, you shivered each time her tongue rubbed against you.
“I fucking love you,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight, hearing one last giggle before fading to darkness.
The next day, after the other four members had already left the offices, you took Chaewon’s advice. You walked through the halls until you found Kazuha by herself in a small lounge, reading something on the wall while pouring herself some water.
“You’re here late,” you said as you walked up, pretending as if it was a coincidence.
Her face lit up as she turned to see you.
“Oh, hey cutie,” she purred, leaning backwards against the small countertop. “Chaewon already went back to the dorms.”
“I’m not here for Chaewon,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist.
“So who are you here for,” she smirked, leaning closer to you.
“Uh, have you seen Sakura around?” you asked, pretending to look around.
Kazuha was visibly irked at your joke, unable to hide her annoyance.
“She’s also at the dorm,” Kazuha replied, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface.
You smirked, loving the not-so-subtle jealousy she was displaying. It felt nice flipping the tables on her from time to time, becoming the one who does the teasing for a change.
“Cool, but I’m not looking for her either,” you moved even closer. “I can’t move much closer,” you whispered, lips practically touching hers at this point.
“Say you want me,” Kazuha moaned quietly, gripping the counter until her knuckles turned white.
“I. Want. You.”
She lunged forward before the last syllable even finished leaving your mouth. You almost fell over with how much passion was behind the kiss, grabbing onto her fit body for support.
“Holy shit Kazuha,” you gasped as she held herself in front of you with the prettiest smile you could imagine. “How about we go somewhere more private before you get in trouble?”
“Yeah,” she turned around, picking her jacket up off the counter. “You can’t just be kissing me at work like that, you should know better.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “It’s like you don’t care about the rules at all.”
“I’m pretty sure-” you froze mid sentence, jaw dropping to the floor as Kazuha pulled her pants down, flashing her ass at you. “Kazuha!”
“Come on, you can drive me,” she giggled, quickly pulling her pants back up and grabbing your hand.
This girl was something else, you thought to yourself.
“The dorm will be so packed right now.”
“My place is empty,” you suggested. “If you’re comfortable with that.”
“You’re taking me back to your place? Isn’t that inappropriate?” Kazuha asked in her classic playfully teasing tone.
“It’s only inappropriate if you make it inappropriate.”
“I can do that,” she purred, leaning over the gear shift, looking up at you while hovering over your lap.
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” you laughed, trying to focus on the road.
“Come on,” she whined. “You still haven’t shown me that cock that Chaewon keeps talking about.”
Kazuha sat up straight, smile on her face, as a car blaring its horn flew past you.
“You’re going to get us into an accident,” you sighed, locking both hands onto the steering wheel.
“Oh I’m sorry,” she cooed. “Maybe you need to punish me.”
Focusing was impossible, Kazuha was in too much of a mood this afternoon. You tried to ignore it, but the involuntary glances you shot at her just made it so much more difficult to focus. She had her arms up over her head, tying her hair back in a ponytail, the hair tie in her mouth as she fumbled around. Her sleeveless top flaunting her bare arms without any care, her toned muscles flexing as her fingers worked around, and the smallest little bit of cleavage peeking over the low-cut neck.
“Why do you keep looking at me?” Kazuha asked nonchalantly as she took the tie out of her mouth. “Do you like what you see?”
“Yeah, love it,” you stuttered, not realizing how obvious you were being.
Kazuha reached over and slowly pulled one of your hands off the steering wheel, dragging it over to her chest. You tried to keep your eyes focused on the road, ignoring her games despite how difficult it was. As you pulled up to a red light, Kazuha moved your hand lower, placing it between her legs.
“Can you feel how wet I am?” she moaned softly.
There was a smirk plastered across her lips, one you could only see in your periphery as you started driving again. She began rubbing your hand around, using you like a toy to get herself off. Then she moved your hand towards her waistband, threatening to slide it into her pants.
“Stop stop stop, we’re here,” you yanked your hand away as you pulled up into your parking garage. “You know these windows aren’t tinted, right?”
“Yeah, and the office is full of cameras, what’s your point?”
“Holy shit you’re right,” you gasped as you put the car in park. “What got into you today?”
“Hopefully you, soon,” she answered provocatively.
“I don’t know, Chaewon was extra touchy today, and then you came and started kissing me,” she said casually while getting out of the car. “Also, relax, there weren’t any cameras there.”
She basically skipped to the elevators as you followed closely behind. At times Kazuha would remind you a lot of how Chaewon would act around you; She was just so happy and excited.
“I want to do it,” Kazuha stated as the two of you entered the elevator.
“Aren’t you a bit old to ask to push the button,” you smirked as you pressed the button to your floor.
“Not that,” she whined cutely. “Take off your pants.”
You couldn’t even respond to her audacity because the door opened right after and two other people entered the elevator. For the next few floors, Kazuha wouldn’t stop giggling, right up until they both left.
“Oh my God Kazuha,” you laughed as the elevator reached your floor.
“Which one’s yours?” she asked joyfully, running ahead of you.
“Left side, third door.”
She ran up to it and turned around, watching you walk towards her. She raised one leg up towards the roof, pressing it against the wall, showing off her flexibility as she was basically performing a standing splits.
“What are you doing?” you laughed as you inserted your key.
“Stretching,” Kazuha answered, rushing into your apartment as soon as you opened the door. She ran in, kicked her shoes off, and jumped onto your couch. “Wow, why doesn’t Chaewon just move into here, it’s so nice!”
“I’ve offered, but she likes living with you guys,” you replied as you took off your jacket and shoes. “Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really been sleeping here that much lately.”
“What mess?” Kazuha responded carelessly as she ripped her shirt off, tossing it to the floor.
“Zuha, what are you doing?”
“Huh? Nothing,” she said, faking innocence as she pulled off her sweatpants. “It’s just kinda warm in here, you don’t mind, right?”
“Right,” you said carefully, trying not to stare too much as she stripped all the way down to her underwear.
“Hey, do you mind helping me?”
“How so?” you inquired, taking a seat next to her on the couch.
“I’m cold, can you warm me up?” she asked.
“What the-”
“Please!” she whined, with that cute pout as she stretched her arms out wide.
With a shake of your head, you succumbed to her games and lay down on the couch with her, unable to contain your smile as she happily held onto you. She nestled her cheek against yours, the floral tones of her shampoo filling your senses.
The impromptu hug turned into an exploration of Kazuha’s body as she started rubbing herself all over you, making you feel around. She guided your hands around her back while she wrapped her legs around your hips, sensually grinding on you.
She began yanking at your shirt until she got what she wanted, leaving you topless on top of her. Now it was her turn to explore, her hands having fun sliding around your bare torso, wrapping around and feeling your back. She slipped them lower, starting to unbuckle your pants.
“Hold on,” you stopped her. “Are you sure?”
“I want to see you,” she whispered.
Her expression was soft, for a second it felt like she was your girlfriend. You stood up from the couch and pulled over a chair, sitting in front of her after removing your pants.
“You sure you wanna keep going?” you asked as she also sat up on the couch, facing you, both of you only wearing your underwear now.
Kazuha reached behind her back, unstrapped her bra, and let it fall into her lap before nodding at you. As she spread her legs slightly, you could see a very noticeable wet patch on her crotch, staining her gray underwear. You stuck your hips out forward slightly, leaning back in the chair, and gestured downwards.
She slid off the couch onto her knees, crawled the two steps forward and reached up with both hands. You lifted your hips, making it easier for her, and she slowly lowered your underwear. Her face was full of anticipation, finally getting her wish. Your cock sprung to life, already mostly erect, in front of the topless girl.
“I…” Kazuha choked, gazed locked on your cock.
You grabbed her by her arms and pulled her up, forcing her to look at you before you kissed her softly on the lips.
“Say you want me,” you whispered to her.
There was a brief moment of hesitation, contemplation maybe, but you were in no rush. If she was ready, then you were ready, the choice was hers.
“I want you,” she whispered back.
Her words rang through your ears over and over as you slid your hands down her body and pulled her panties down to her ankles. She stood there, her shining pussy right in front of your face, until you leaned forward in the chair and pressed your lips to it.
The wetness immediately coated your lips, satisfying the taste buds in your mouth. With how wet she was, it was clear she was ready, you were simply getting your own fix as you licked her freely. Her hands ran through your hair, quiet whimpers escaping her lips while you worked her pussy with your mouth.
Once you were satisfied and thought she was ready, you leaned back and took hold of her hands. You looked into her eyes, her flushed face a warm red as you pulled her closer until she was standing right above you, her legs straddling you. You softly tugged at her hands, encouraging her to lower herself until her wet pussy made contact with your cock.
Then you stopped. You focused on her, made sure she was actually ready, made sure she wanted this. After giving her hand a squeeze, one which she reciprocated, you simply held yourself there, waiting for her to make the next move.
Kazuha bit her lower lip, and after a few moments of just holding herself there, she lowered her body. A sharp gasp left her mouth as your tip began stretching her pussy. It took a second to adjust, but there was absolutely no rush. When she was ready to continue, she lowered herself some more, gritting her teeth as your cock filled her pussy up.
For you, the warmth of her pussy created the most exquisite pressure around your cock. A soft, pliable mold, shaped just for you as Kazuha’s intimate embrace filled your mind with sensation. A gentle gripping feeling as her pussy flipped between contracting and relaxing, even without thrusting into her, it felt phenomenal.
She lowered herself some more, taking even more of your cock, building up the excitement of her first time, her face full of vulnerability. You let her move at her own pace, you wanted this to be as comfortable as possible for her.
Every time she moved lower, a cascade of pleasure ran through your body, the intimacy and desire coursing through your veins.
“It’s tight,” she moaned, voice full of strain.
“Breath,” you whispered back, keeping the pressure up on her limp fingers. “Take your time.”
Kazuha closed her eyes and started breathing through her mouth, her breath hitting your face. The way her breath hit your skin could put a masseuse to shame, and she didn't even know it. She had no idea how much she turned you on - or maybe she did.
“You’re doing great,” you encouraged her.
Her face was still scrunched up, adjusting to the new sensation, but a hint of pride snuck through. Slowly, she made that last little push, sitting on your thighs, taking your entire cock. Her lifeless fingers regained strength, and she began squeezing your hands painfully hard.
That wasn’t an issue for you, the tightness of her grip was still nothing compared to the tightness of her pussy around your cock. The warmth, the wetness, she was perfect. After a few seconds, she began to slowly move up and down, getting truly accustomed to your size.
“Ah,” she moaned softly as she bounced slowly. “Yes…”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you moaned back, your words encouraging her to move faster.
She rode your cock for a bit longer, eventually picking up the pace quite a bit. Her pussy was stretching out, getting extremely comfortable on your cock. She even began to build up a slight sweat, her shining little tits bouncing up and down in front of your face.
The two of you felt like you had a connection. Some sort of bond, as if you were both born specifically to fuck each other one day. All that sexual tension released, flooding out of your bodies as you finally got to fuck Kazuha’s tight pussy - something you’ve thought about for a long time.
Her hands released yours, and she placed them on your shoulders for support as she fucked herself on you. It felt so good, her body felt as amazing as it looked. Her breathing began to elevate, and her hips started moving in different directions.
Maybe it was her experience as a dancer, but a girl as pretty as Kazuha had no right knowing how to move like this during her first time. Why did it feel like she just had everything? A true natural talent. It made no sense, was this girl just perfect in every sense? All her teasing, all her flirting, everything that led up to this one moment suddenly flooded through your body.
“Please, fuck me,” she cried out, voice cracking, pitch higher than either of you expected.
Who were you to deny such a request? You grabbed onto her hips, her own hands pressing slightly harder into your shoulders as she stopped moving up and down, bracing for what was to come. With her body in your grip, you started to thrust your hips upwards.
You started to really fuck Kazuha.
Apparently that did it for her as the slapping noises filled your living room, she began to shout profanities of pleasure, even switching to Japanese halfway through her slurry of moans. It didn’t matter that you had no idea what the words meant, you knew exactly what she was saying. Your cock couldn’t handle it much longer, this was the first time you’ve fucked someone to the point of reverting them to their native tongue, and it felt better than you could have ever anticipated.
The girl who didn’t sweat was glistening. You couldn’t control your hands as they explored every inch of Kazuha’s skin that they could reach: Her back, her ass, her hips, anything you could touch, you touched. Without ever letting up, your hips kept pumping away, her moans very clearly screaming how much she loved your cock inside her as you pulled her into your body.
“You’re so fucking hot,” you groaned into her neck, licking up a few beads of sweat. Your tongue roamed all over her soft and tender body. “I’m going to fucking cum,” you whispered into her sternum before moving your mouth lower. “You’re going to make me cum.”
For just a second, you paused your thrusting to give yourself the chance to keep going - you didn’t want this to end yet. Kazuha’s body, however, didn’t get any break. With your cock still balls deep in her pussy as it trembled, you forcefully cupped one of her tits in your hand before shoving it into your mouth.
“Ah!” she moaned as your lips made contact with her nipple. “Keep going.”
Your body complied - your hips began to thrust again. This time you started up slowly, feeling sharp waves fly through your body each time your cock pumped into her. Each thrust felt like it could be the last, the one that pushes you over the edge, yet by some miracle you were holding on.
Why you couldn’t keep going slowly, you had no idea, but your hips had a mind of their own. Kazuha’s pussy refused to be gently taken - realistically it was your cock that was being uncooperative. It didn’t matter. What did matter was Kazuha’s pleasure becoming your pleasure. Her moans, her cries, they fueled you.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned out quietly as if it was a great struggle to speak. One of her hands found the back of your head, enticing you to keep your mouth pressed to her chest. “Don’t stop.”
There was no desire to stop, none at all. Literally none. You wanted to fuck Kazuha’s pussy all night if you could, if she would let you, if your body would let you, but you knew your time was coming soon. An impossible dilemma that you simply could not solve. You released her nipple and ran your tongue across her chest, trying to distract yourself, but that salty tang of her skin just brought you that much closer.
Your best efforts were nowhere near enough. Kazuha’s body, that perfectly sculpted body of a goddess, took over. It was too intense, the sharp fire coursing through the nerves in your cock, half of your body shaking as you fucked her with the last little bit of whatever you had left in you.
“Oh fuck!” Kazuha screamed directly into your ear.
Her loudest of the evening, and it was just as soon as your cock began unloading. Could she feel it? You certainly could feel every drop of warmth fly up into her body. Filling her pussy, fighting against gravity until it failed and spilled out of her tight little pussy. The warmth began spilling onto your thighs, the wet combination of Kazuha and your cum was the last thing you felt before your mind blanked out entirely.
It was a mess (mess mess mess), yet you refused to let go of her. You needed her body, you were holding onto her for dear life, and she was holding back just as hard. Warm and covered in sweat, her body was still trembling, you could feel waves flowing through her. She must have finished at the same time as you, a rare coincidence that you failed to even notice in the moment.
The only sounds in the entire room were Kazuha’s deep breaths and the kisses you were planting all over her tits. You were just filled with affection for this girl, all of a sudden she became that much more special to you. All the wait, all the delays, none of that mattered anymore. Your relationship with Kazuha would never be the same after this night, and you didn’t care.
“That was…” Kazuha sighed, her grip on your body relaxing but not letting go.
“Yeah,” you quickly replied before continuing the barrage of kisses on her chest.
“Don’t,” she protested, her voice cuter than normal. “I’m all sweaty.”
You kissed her one last time before looking up at her. Her face was completely flushed, slightly dewy from sweat, her lips pursed, her beautifully healthy hair sticking to her forehead. You ignored her embarrassment, she had nothing to be shy about, and started moving towards her mouth. Right before your lips connected, she licked her lips.
This one was special. The more you kissed her, the more she kissed you, it was completely balanced. Aggressive, maybe, but still incredibly tender. Your hands slid up and down her hips, fingers rubbing against the greatest abs in the industry, while her hands remained fixed on your face as she held you.
Time didn’t exist anymore, the two of you kissed for far too long, but neither of you wanted to stop. Eventually your hands made their way down to her ass, gently massaging it, squeezing the firm yet soft cheeks. How was her body so perfect? It was all you could think about.
Whenever you tried to pull back to stop the kiss, she pushed forward harder, refusing to let you go. It was easier to just let it happen, kiss her forever, as long as she wanted. Just when it felt like the kiss would actually last forever, the two of you slowly separated.
With your help, she carefully stood up off your lap. As she pulled herself off your cock, clearly still extremely sensitive, a rush of cum spilled out, adding to the mess on your thighs. She stood in front of you, letting it drip out of her, using your shoulders for support to keep herself upright.
With one hand, using the utmost care, you slowly began rubbing her between her legs. The sharp inhale through her teeth, the hard - subconscious - squeeze of your shoulder, she couldn’t hide how sensitive her body was.
“Are you alright?” you whispered as you lightly brushed your fingers against her most sensitive area.
“It’s…” she moaned, looking at you with her brows furrowed.
You reached forward and picked her up from her thighs, being as gentle as possible as you carried her over to your bed and placed her down. She looked so unbelievably adorable, laying there completely nude, her hair splayed across the bed.
“Can I stay?” she asked hesitantly.
“Of course you can, I’ll drop you off in the morning.”
A single nod, as if she was still embarrassed, is all she answered with. You couldn’t leave her now, not after that, so you lay down next to her on the bed, not caring about the sheets being soiled by the aftermath of your session.
Kazuha turned to her side, her arm going straight up towards the head of the bed with the side of her face resting against her bicep, and stared lovingly into your eyes.“Thanks for tonight,” she whispered, a light smile blessing her face.
---
A/N:
Finally, it's here, I'm sorry for dangling this in front of your faces for so long. I really really really hope it lived up to the expectations, I didn't mean to hype it up so much!
Just a quick life update, I'm going to be incredibly busy going forward. No, I'm not quitting, I'll still write in my free time. I just wanted to let you guys know there might be some longer breaks between my uploads. This also means there might be more typos/small mistakes, I'll try to catch them all, but please be understanding!
Regarding the story, please do let me know if you guys are still enjoying it! I'll be honest, I quite enjoyed this chapter myself, it was a fun write. I don't know if I quite did it justice, but there's plenty of time for improvement; This is only Chapter 7!
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asahicore · 1 year
Text
we’ll always have this summer - psh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. Your mom ruins your summer plans by sending you to the equestrian center your grandmother owns in the south of France, wanting you to spend some time away from the city and take a break from your med studies. Although you’d been determined to spend the worst time ever there, you soon find out that maybe the cold but cute horse nerd next door who doesn’t want to talk to you might actually turn this summer into the best one of your life. genre. summer au, strangers to mutual dislike to friends to lovers ig, city girl x country boy type beat, mainly fluff and smut but also angst cause i love pain word count. 25.9k a/n. hi sisters i'm super excited to repost this, it was really fun rereading and editing it, and i hope that all of you who had enjoyed reading it last summer will still like it this time around and that those of you who hadn't read it will enjoy it now <3 i had also posted an sfw version, so if anyone would like that too, pls lmk! ok thats it let me know what u think love you bye
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Sunghoon was going to have a very normal, uneventful summer. He would take a very much needed break from his studies and take care of the equestrian center he lives in, letting his parents take a breather and enjoy their summer. He’d wake up early and do everything he needed to, then spend the afternoon on horseback or sleeping in a random field. It’d be a routine his body is used to and likes, and he’d be able to let his worries go for a while. But then, you came along.
You, who’d had big plans for the summer. You, who should’ve been going on a two-week vacation with your friends to Mallorca as a treat for having aced your second-year medical school final exams and as a celebration for getting an internship in the hospital of your choice. You, who would’ve done nothing for those two weeks but sunbathe, read trashy romance novels, and get margarita-drunk at 2pm, and would’ve spent the rest of the summer hanging out with your friends in Paris, your home, and taking day trips to random French cities. This summer would be your last fun, carefree summer before you were thrown into real semi-adult life, and you were going to make the best of it. That’s what you had planned; to your utmost despair, your mom seemed to have other ideas in mind.
“We’ve gone over this a thousand times now, sweetie. You’re going. It’ll be good for you.”
“You know what will be good for me?” you say, close on her tail as you descend the stairs. “Relaxing and having fun with my friends for two weeks. Not cleaning horse manure and having to walk ten kilometers to get service.”
“It’ll be one or two kilometers at most, dear, not ten.” 
“Ugh!” you groan ostentatiously. Your mother only shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. You glare back at her.
“It’ll be good for you,” she repeats, turning back to whatever was occupying her in the kitchen before you started arguing with her as you plop down on one of the stools at the center island. “You’ve seen neither your grandmother nor the countryside in ages, so it’ll be a nice change. What’s more, they say the best doctors are the ones who’ve done different jobs, you know.”
“Who’s ever said that…” you mutter under your breath, a clear look of distaste on your face. “But anyway, I see Mamie every Christmas at Auntie’s in Perpignan, and even if I didn’t, whose fault is it I never go to the countryside? You never bring me there.”
Your mother lifts her head and looks at you. “I’m too busy to make the journey all the way there. You’ve seen it, there’s two trains and two buses, I can’t do all that. Which is why we settle for Marseille. Direct train, easy. You, on the other hand,” she says, pointing to you with her wooden spoon, “will have plenty of time this summer.”
“Yeah, time I could’ve spent on a beach in Spain or with my friends here!” You know you’re being annoying, but you can’t help it. You really want to go to Mallorca.
She sighs. “I just need you to trust me on this one, honey. You’ll have tons of other summers to do all that. Your grandmother is getting old, so I want you to have at least some memories with her before… you know. I know it’s our fault you didn’t see her more often, so this is our way of making up for it!”
Your father walks in the kitchen, materializing out of nowhere as he often does. “Your mother’s right, you know.” They both peer down at you, and you know then you really don’t get a say in this. “I had an amazing bond with my grandfather, and I want for you to have something similar with your grandmother. She’s the only grandparent you’ve got left, and I promise you, you don’t want to let that go to waste.” You still don’t look fully convinced, so he adds, “Plus, you already get along well, right? You always talk lots when you see each other at Christmas.”
Your father does have a point. You know the problem isn’t being with your grandmother, anyway. Truth be told, you were quite looking forward to spending more time with her. She had a great sense of fashion, and you were sure she had many stories to tell you. It was the fact that you had to spend your summer in a godforsaken town of Southern France where the nearest town was seven kilometers away and the nearest city almost a forty-minute drive. Where you lived in Paris, you had everything you needed in a five-minute walk radius, and you just needed to hop on the Metro or the train to go anywhere else. And it was an equestrian center, of all places. You didn’t even like horses.
“Also,” your mother starts, dragging out the vowel, “the family that lives in the house next door has a boy your age. I heard he’s cute.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you groan at her, which just makes your parents laugh more. You don’t want to stereotype, but you highly doubt a boy who lives in an equestrian center in the middle of God-knows-where is anywhere as handsome as the boys you see everywhere in the capital city. Hot people live in cities; to you, that’s always been a fact.
And as if a stupid boy could make this any better anyway.
-
Your mother wasn’t lying when she said the journey was long. You took the Metro from your apartment to the train station, then a rapid train to Perpignan, a regional train to Argelès, and a bus to the town of Laroque-des-Albères. And that wasn’t even it - there could’ve been a second bus, but your grandmother had arranged for the neighbors’ son to come and pick you up and drive you to the small commune named La Pierrerie where the equestrian center was. 
To your dismay, there was another thing your mother had been right about; the neighbors’ son being cute. When you get off the bus, you look around the almost empty parking spot with no idea of who you’re supposed to look for. But he must see your lost expression and all your luggage and assume you’re the one he had come to pick up, so he calls out your name. Your head snaps towards the direction of the voice, and the moment your eyes settle on him, you have to hold yourself from gaping at him like a dead fish. For someone who supposedly spends his weekends and vacations outside, taking care of horses, cleaning stalls and doing handiwork, his features are… delicate. The perfect blend of sharp and soft - a round face contrasted by a knifelike jaw, plump lips, his eyebrows forming a straight line over his almond-shaped eyes. But you find roughness on his face is in the crease of his eyebrows as he peers down at you. You haven’t done anything yet, but he already clearly disapproves of you.
There’s a scowl on his face - he may be pretty, but he’s definitely not welcoming. You walk towards him, dragging your luggage behind you, and he doesn’t move to help you until you reach the car, and finally he opens the trunk and hauls one of your suitcase in. 
“Thank you,” you breathe, looking up at him, “um?”
A beat passes as your eyes lock, and he looks so bored you think he might not even bother to give you his name, but thank God he does. “Sunghoon.”
You decide not to let his rudeness get to you and put on a bright smile, but by the time you’re done saying “nice to meet you,” he’s already gotten in the driver’s seat. He starts the car without another word, and your efforts at any sort of conversation are so fruitless that you give up after two minutes of asking questions that are only met with two-word sentences. You can only hope that his family isn’t as unfriendly as he is, otherwise you’d be in for one hell of a summer.
When you arrive in La Pierrerie, it’s almost nine p.m., and you’re exhausted from your long journey and from carrying around such heavy suitcases. Still in complete silence, Sunghoon takes two of your bags and heads towards what you can only assume is your grandmother’s house. You go to follow him, but you soon notice your grandmother and another woman, who you guess is Sunghoon’s mother, sitting at a table, sipping on some lemonade. As soon as they see you arrive, they rush towards you (well, the woman does - your grandmother walks as fast as she can), helping you with the rest of your baggage. They kiss you on both cheeks as a greeting, starting from the right but you’re used to starting from the left, which almost makes your lips bump into each other. Thankfully, they laugh it off, and you make sure to remember the local custom to avoid future potentially awkward encounters.
The woman introduces herself as Mrs Park and tells you she lived next-door to your grandmother, just like you’d guessed. She says that she’s happy to meet you and hopes that you had a nice trip and that you weren’t too tired for the meal she and your grandmother had prepared for tonight. You like her instantly - her kind eyes and warm smile make you feel at home right away. 
Your grandmother hugs you too, and you had to admit it felt nice seeing her after such a long time. Such a sweet welcome revives you a bit, and a nagging voice in your head tells you, see, this isn’t that bad, this summer might be good after all, but you quickly shut it down. Your stubborn nature wants you to hate this for at least a little bit, especially after the excruciating car ride you just had to sit through. You won’t show it to your hosts, obviously, because you want to be respectful, but you can at least scowl and curse your parents when nobody’s looking.
There’s no time for awkward silence and looking back and forth between the two women because as soon as the greetings are over, Mrs Park announces she’ll go heat up the food and get the last things ready while your grandmother shows you around her home, which would be yours for the next two months and a half, and lets you unpack for a bit.
Your grandmother’s house is on two floors. The ground floor is basically one big room, which the front door leads directly into. There’s the kitchen, the dining room and the living room. It’s all very open and bright, and you can tell it must be very warm when the sunlight poured directly through the large windows into the room at the right time of day. It’s simply decorated, with furniture that probably hasn’t been updated in a while but that is well maintained and looks cozy enough. Black-and-whites and photographs of fuzzy quality are hung on the wall of the dining room and you’re eager to take a closer look at them later on.
Upstairs are two bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as a mezzanine that’s a few steps lower than the rest of the floor and that looks over the living room. This is where your grandmother keeps her books and her trophies from her past very successful horse riding career. There are a couple armchairs in the corner and a window to bring more light in, and you’re sure this would make an amazing reading nook for late evenings or stormy afternoons. 
Your room is not much more than a double bed, a chest of drawers, a cupboard to hang your clothes in and a few empty shelves. Your grandmother had told you you were welcome to bring any kind of decoration you wanted to make this room yours for the summer, so you’d taken with you a few posters and framed pictures as well as some babbles you liked looking at. She’d picked out some daisies from her garden and made a bouquet out of them, livening up the vase on your bedside table. 
She sits on your bed as you put your clothes away (which you had brought so many of, you weren’t sure there’d be enough room to put them all in) and tells you how she’d come to live here with the Parks. This is something you like about her - she has many stories to tell, each more fascinating than the other, and she’s always willing to tell them.
Your grandmother had actually grown up not too far from here, on the other side of town. Her parents had signed her up for lessons every Wednesday afternoon for a few years, until her instructor recognised her potential and told her she could ride professionally if she wanted. So, she started having two-hour lessons four times a week. When she started winning local, then regional, then national championships, she moved to Perpignan to be taught by more qualified instructors in a more renowned riding club.
Years forward, she got pregnant and her career as a rider was over. When her kids were old enough, she got a job as an instructor and even managed a few athletes of the club in Perpignan, but she continued to visit her old club in Laroque once in a while, as she always did throughout her career. She’d seen it wear down and lose customers over the years to the point that at the end of the nineties, it was under threat of closing down. Her old teacher had long passed and her son and his wife had taken over. This son, who was a bit older than your grandmother, had worked there his whole life, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do - as the only son, he’d had no choice but to stay and take care of the club. However, he hadn’t wanted it to close that way, and he was still desperate to keep the club alive, especially because his own son truly loved it and wanted to take over and manage it once he was done with high school.
Your grandmother, with more money than she needed from her successful career and the inheritance she got from her husband’s passing, offered to buy the club from the Parks and manage its finances while they took care of the horses and of lessons. Her only condition was that she could move in in the other house on the property that wasn’t inhabited and needed a few renovations. They agreed immediately.
Mr Park graduated from high school in 1998, got married to the now Mrs Park in 2000, and they had their first child, Sunghoon, in 2002 - the same year as you. His parents moved out to the city and got new jobs that they liked a lot more while the club, thanks to your grandmother’s donations and Mr and Mrs Park’s hard work, prospered once again. It did help that an Olympic rider sometimes helped out with lessons and gave out advice for aspiring athletes.
And now, here you are, twenty years later, visiting her for the first time since you were probably six. You don’t have many memories from those few times you’d been here, so it was all new to you. Especially that Sunghoon boy, whom your grandmother was sure you would get along with based on how chummy you were back in 2008. When you were both six. You didn’t have the heart to tell her how he had been with you in the car.
“Sunghoon’s a bit shy, but once you get to know him, he’s a really good kid. Very passionate and hardworking. So is his sister Yeji, but she’s got different ambitions,” your grandmother muses.
“Oh yeah? What does she want to do?” you ask, genuinely interested, as you try to somehow fit another t-shirt into one of the drawers. You’d started out by folding them nicely but you’d soon given up and started stashing them into the corners.
“She wants to become a professional rider. Says she wants to become like me,” she explains with a small chuckle. “Well, she’s definitely got what it takes. I got her a spot in that bigger club in Perpignan I told you about, so she goes there after school twice a week, but she still trains here with me every weekend.”
“You give her lessons?” you ask, some surprise in your voice, which makes your grandmother laugh.
“What, you think I’m too old?” she jokes and you shake your head rapidly, but she doesn’t take any offense to it. “I can’t stand for hours and shout like I used to, but I can sit in the center of the riding hall and watch, then tell her what she needs to work on and what she’s doing well. She says it helps her, so I’m happy to do it,” she adds with a shrug. You nod as you open another drawer and decide this one will be for your underwear.
“What about Sunghoon?” You can’t help but ask, a bit curious about him. You doubted you could really chalk up his impoliteness to shyness, but you could still listen to what your grandmother had to say about him.
“He’s more like his dad, wants to take after the club. But he’s a very decent rider, too. If his sister hadn’t said she wanted to go pro so early on, I’m sure he would’ve. You know one thing that’s great about getting old?” she asks suddenly.
“No?”
“You observe people a lot more, and you understand them a lot more too. Well, now that I think about it, it might be just me,” she says, making you chuckle. “I don’t have a lot going on in my life, so I have more time to be nosy and see what others are up to. He’d never admit it, I don’t think, that he gave up on a potential riding career for his sister. He’s the type to make quiet sacrifices, and he loves his sister to death. He’d rather take over the club and watch her be happy than the opposite.”
You nod, an approving expression on your face. “Sounds like a good guy,” you say honestly, surprised that someone supposedly so kind could also be so rude.
“He is. Handsome, as well, by the way, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she adds, a knowing smile playing on her lips, but you just roll your eyes playfully.
“That’s what mom said,” you reply, not wanting to admit that they are both right on the matter of Sunghoon’s handsomeness. 
Sunghoon’s the one who opens the door when you and your grandmother knock. His expression when he sees you is the same as earlier, but you don’t have the time to ponder over his behavior, because quickly enough, two figures appear behind him. He steps to the side, letting enough space for you to come in, his harsh gaze never once leaving your face. You turn your attention to the figures, namely his father and a young girl who you guess is Yeji, and, thank God, they’re looking at you with wide smiles.
“You must be Y/N!” his father beams, and you nod, returning his smile and saying hi. He kisses you on both cheeks, and this time you remember to start from the right. “Welcome. We’re very happy to have you here, aren’t we, Sunghoon?”
He seems oblivious to his son’s clear distaste of you as he loops an arm over his shoulders, happily shaking one of them under his grasp. “Right,” Sunghoon says, voice monotone. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you reply with a slightly confused tone - what the hell was his deal? Usually, whatever energy someone gave you, you’d give it back to them. You’d have no problem being as rude to Sunghoon as he was to you if only his family didn’t seem so nice.
“I’ll go help Mom in the kitchen,” he announces and walks away. His father turns back to you and gives you an apologetic smile.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just shy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” You nod, saying it’s okay. 
Yeji then takes a step towards you, introducing herself as she goes in for the usual two kisses on the cheeks. “Hi, I’m Yeji!”
“Hi, so nice to meet you!”
“Me too, I’m really happy you’re here! It’ll be nice being with another girl,” she says, gesturing towards her oblivious brother with a tilt of her head. It takes a lot more effort to be nice than to be rude, you think, side-eyeing Sunghoon in your head.
“Are there not a lot of girls that come here for lessons?” you ask as she leads you inside the house, showing you where to take off your shoes and jumper.
“There are, but they only come here once a week and stay for a few hours, so it’s not the same. I’m stuck with my anthropoid of a brother most of the time,” she says, lowering her voice to make sure only you can hear what she says. You both laugh at her diss; nothing like bonding over hating boys with another girl. You can already tell you’re going to like her.
You ask if there’s anything you can do to help, but the Parks tell you to not worry about anything and sit down. You and Yeji join your grandmother who’s already sitting at the dinner table, and the three of you chat, or rather, you and Yeji chat while your grandmother listens. Or maybe she isn’t listening, you’re not sure. 
Yeji is in her first year of high school. The prestigious riding club she is being taught at doubles as a school, so that’s where she’s been studying for the past few years, and she boards there as well, coming home every weekend unless she’s got important competitions coming up, in which case she stays there for a few weeks. Competition season is about to start, so she’ll be spending most of her time there this summer.
“And do you like it there?”
She looks slightly taken aback by your question, as if she’s not quite used to being asked about that. “I mean, yeah, yeah, I do. It’s nice being able to ride so often, and not having the stress of needing to figure out what I want to do next. But it is… you know,” her voice gets quieter, “a lot of pressure sometimes.”
Sunghoon walks in then, plates and cutlery in hand, and starts setting the table. Yeji’s face lights up at her brother’s arrival, using it to change the topic. “Sunghoon is studying to become a vet. He’s finished his two years of preparatory classes, so now he’s going to a vet school in Toulouse.”
He glares at his sister, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “He graduated top of his class, you know.”
“Why are you telling her about me?” he interrupts.
Yeji just shrugs. “I’m telling her about us.”
“Well,” he says, putting down a plate in front of you and a fork and knife on each side of the plate, “she doesn’t need to know about me.” You can’t see his face but the cold tone of his voice and his presence right behind you are enough to send shivers down your spine. What the hell is his deal?, you wonder.
You look at Yeji, a confused look on your face, and she rolls her eyes as a dismissal of her older brother’s behavior. “Don’t ask me, cause I don’t know what his problem is, either,” she says, and you can’t help but chuckle.
Mrs and Mr Park walk in then, bringing in the main dish of duck confit as well as roast potatoes, vegetables and some bread. Mrs Park gives you the biggest chunk of meat and a load of sides, saying you must be famished after such a long trip even though you tell her you’d brought things to snack on. She says she’d hesitated between cooking Korean food or a typical French Southwestern dish but had opted for the latter, wanting to welcome you properly in the region. You thanked her and told her it looked amazing.
When everyone is served, you wish each other ‘bon appétit’ and start eating. You’re chewing on your first mouthful of duck and potatoes when Mrs Park asks you what you study. “Your grandmother said you were a med student?” she asks with a smile. Everyone looks at you except for Sunghoon, who only has eyes for his food.
You nod, waiting to swallow before answering, and Mr Park tuts his wife for not letting you eat. “I am. I passed my second year,” you say, earning yourself some congratulations, “and I’m starting my residency in a hospital in Paris next semester.”
“Do you know what part of the hospital you’ll be in?” Mr Park asks.
“We get to do turns, so we can see what we like. We give our school our top five choices, and then they put us in three departments for three months each, and then choose our favorite one based on the offers we get for the summer. I’m in the children’s ward first, then cardiology, then reeducation. We’ll also get to watch over surgeries.”
He nods, humming at your words. “And is that what you want to do later? I mean, work in one of those departments?”
“I’ve got time to change my mind, so I guess it depends how much I like being at the hospital, but I think I’d rather have my own cabinet after some time. I feel like overtime, you build more of a relationship with people, and it’s a lot less stressful, too,” you add with a chuckle.
Mr Park smiles and nods again. “Ah, I see. That’s nice. And would that be in Paris?,” he asks, and this time, it’s his wife that tells him to leave you alone, but you say it’s okay.
“Probably. It’s the city I know best, but nothing is set in stone.”
“You should come here!” Mrs Park perks. “Most people who live here are quite old - no offense, Nadine - ” (“None taken,” your grandmother says with a smile), but we’ve only got two doctors, and one is probably retiring in the next six to ten years.”
“You tell me to leave her alone, and then you tell her to move here,” Mr Park mutters, earning himself a small slap on the arm. They start bickering, and your grandmother just sighs and shakes her head.
“Young love,” she says, making everyone laugh. Even Sunghoon cracks a smile, and you get a glimpse of his dimples. As soon as he catches your gaze, his smile drops, and you turn your eyes away, your cheeks heating up. Yeji starts a new topic and soon enough you’re all chatting again. If it wasn’t for Sunghoon making it very clear he didn’t want you here, you’d already feel at home, just sitting at this dinner table.
When dinner is over, you insist on clearing the table and doing the dishes, saying you felt bad not doing anything. “I need to earn my keep,” you tell Mrs Park with a smile.
She laughs and says, “Oh, no need to worry about that, with Sunghoon showing you the ropes the next few days, you definitely will.”
Sunghoon perks up at the mention of his name. “What’s this about?” he asks, that crease still in his eyebrows. You find yourself wanting to stroke them with your thumbs and brush that frown away, but you quickly snap out of it. He may have a pretty face, but from what you’ve seen, that’s about all there is.
Mrs Park lets out a small puff of air through her nose. “We’ve talked about this, dear. You’re showing Y/N around the club tomorrow and Monday. It’s so you know how everything works before summer lessons start,” she explains, turning towards you.
“Why does it have to be me, though?” Sunghoon almost whines, and you want to scoff at him.
“Because your father and I said so,” his mother says, ending the conversation there, and you’re reminded of your own parents.
Sunghoon looks at you and frowns, so you raise your eyebrows back at him. It wasn’t your fault you were here or that his parents had designated him to show you around, so there was no reason you should make yourself small or apologetic for him. He scoffs and looks away. “Just be outside by eight a.m. tomorrow morning, okay?”
He doesn’t let you answer, just gives you one last hard look and walks away.
-
“Why are you wearing a dress?” Sunghoon asks as soon as you step outside the next morning.
“Good morning to you too, Sunghoon,” you reply sarcastically. You roll your eyes when he doesn’t say anything, just stands there, arms crossed over his chest, so you add, “Because it’s going to be hot today. And because it’s pretty.”
“This is an equestrian center, not a fashion show. You won’t be comfortable. Go put on a t-shirt and some shorts or some leggings. And wear sneakers, not sandals, Christ.”
You scoff and mirror his posture. “You don’t get to tell me what to wear, you know.”
He lets out a dry chuckle and rolls his eyes, a disbelieving smile on his face. “This might be a holiday for you, because it’s sunny and there’s nature everywhere, but this is work we’re gonna be doing. So, for your own sake, wear the right kind of clothes. But if you want to get horse saliva on your dress or step in horse shit wearing those shoes, be my guest.”
You glare at him for a few seconds, realizing that he’s right, and huff out an annoyed “fine,” stomping back into your grandmother’s house. “Be quick!” he calls after you.
You come back out five minutes later, wearing a tank top you usually use for sleeping, a pair of denim shorts and old sneakers your mother had told you to pack. “Took you long enough,” Sunghoon says, a true ray of sunshine, but you decide it’s better to ignore him. He barely talked to you yesterday, but now that it’s just the two of you and he has to, his words are somehow more annoying than his silence.
You stare at him unfazed and ask, “So, what’s first?”
He raises his eyebrows, seemingly surprised, but answers anyway. “Right. Follow me.” He heads towards a part of the farm that is attached to the riding hall and that your grandmother had pointed out yesterday evening as the reception and office area. 
Sunghoon fishes a keyholder out of his jean pocket and slides open the door using one of the many keys he has. He goes to stand in front of a postboard and points to it. “This has the daily and weekly schedule on it. It’s a routine, so things don’t change much, but when they do, we add a post-it to the board. For example, the blacksmith is coming next Thursday to check horseshoes. That’s a post-it. Today, we’re cleaning out all the stalls and adding fresh straw. We do that every Monday, so it’s on the schedule. No post-it.”
“Right. That makes sense,” you nod. “Is that all we do today?”
“We do rounds first, but basically, yeah, because cleaning takes a long time. And Monday is technically our day off. No one comes in for lessons so we use that free time to clean out the stalls.”
You nod and Sunghoon chuckles at you, but you don’t have time to question him about it because he’s already off and you have no choice but to follow him. He leads you to a part of the farm on the other side of the courtyard and pulls out another key, pushing the door open to a wide three-and-a-half-wall room with rings attached to the walls every few meters. Three and a half because behind that space on each side are stalls, as Sunghoon points out.
“This is the prep room, where we get the horses ready before a lesson.”
“What do you do to get them ready?” you ask, looking around the room.
“You clean their coat and their hooves, brush out any tangles in their manes and tails, then saddle and bridle them. The club saddlery is over there,” he says, pointing to a door on your right. “Horse owners have their own stuff in lockers in another room.”
Apparently, you’re not checking out the saddlery today, because Sunghoon is already walking over to the stalls. 
“Hi everyone,” he greets softly. You follow him closely as he walks on one side of the stables, petting each horse as he walks past them or peering over the door to see how the sleeping ones are doing, and then does the same thing on the other side. He greets each horse by name, and even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he remembers each and every one of them, it still does. You tell him exactly that, and he chuckles.
“What would you think of a teacher that doesn’t know their students’ names? This is kind of the same,” he explains. He shows you the stacks of hay and straw at the end of the stables, and explains that they bring it here from the fields every once in a while because it’s more convenient, and that this is what you’ll be using later.
When he’s checked that everything is okay, he opens the door on the other side of the room leading outside. On your right stands a huge pile of manure, and you can’t help but make a stank face at the odor hitting you right in the nostrils. Sunghoon chuckles again (can he please stop chuckling at you for no reason?) and reassures you by saying they’re emptying it soon. “The farmers use it for their crops,” he explains.
On your left, there’s another barn that you guess hosts more horses. He gets out yet another key and pushes the door wide open. Light fills the barn instantly, making the dust particles in the air visible, and you hear a few grunts and huffs from the horses - of annoyance at Sunghoon waking them up or of happiness at seeing him, you’re not yet qualified enough to say.
There are two other smaller, one-sided stables next to the riding hall where he takes you and does his rounds again. When he’s all done, you follow him to the riding hall where he opens two doors on each side, that way you can walk through it to get to the pastures in the back rather than walk around the whole center, and takes down the electric cables that serve as an entrance to the pastures. He doesn’t explain any of this, however, so you sort of have to guess. Wordlessly, you head back to the last stables you were in and there, he throws a bunch of what you think are harnesses at you.
“What are these?” you ask dumbly, looking at the thing in your hand.
“They’re halters,” he says, and when you just stare wordlessly, he adds, talking as if it were obvious, “you put them around the horse’s head so you can take them places?”
“Right. Can you show me how to put one on?”
He sighs but obliges; he doesn’t have much of a choice anyway. Not your fault that he’s lived here all his life whereas you’ve encountered a horse maybe three times in your twenty years of life. 
He demonstrates how to put a halter on and watches over you as you practice it on an old and tired-looking white horse. When you manage to do it somehow quickly, he says, “there you go,” and you’re surprised to not hear any sarcasm in his voice. However, when he pats the horse’s forehead, you have a feeling the praise was more directed towards her than you.
You walk side-by-side to the pastures, you with the white horse, whose garrot reaches your shoulder, and Sunghoon leading a small pony in each hand. They have to walk quickly to keep up with his strides and you can’t help but laugh at their cute swaying hips.
“How old is she?” you ask Sunghoon, head tilting towards the horse you’re walking with.
A soft smile cracks on Sunghoon’s lips, perhaps the first smile you’ve seen on him today. “That’s Nellie,” he answers quietly, looking at the horse in question. “She’s turning 20 this December. We were only born a few days apart.”
“Wow, so you grew up together, that’s pretty cool,” you say honestly, and Sunghoon’s eyes settle on you for a few seconds, eyebrows raising a bit as if surprised by your words. 
“Yeah, it is,” he says, looking back in front of him. “My parents taught me how to horse ride with her. And she’s the only horse that belongs to the club whose papers actually state that I’m her owner. All the others have my parents’ name or the club’s on theirs.”
“Ah, so she’s your horse,” you say, looking at Nellie and smiling. You’d have imagined a much taller, handsome and dark-haired horse for him, but this somehow matches as well. It makes Sunghoon appear sweeter, for some reason.
“Yeah,” he says simply, but you don’t miss the small smile on his lips. So maybe there is a way to get to know Park Sunghoon, you think.
Once in the pastures, he shows you how to release a horse safely in case they get excited about being outside and hurt you accidentally or run away. Thankfully, these horses know better than to do that sort of stuff, so it’s very unlikely that anything will happen, he explains, but you’re always better safe than sorry. You head back to the stables in a silence a bit less awkward than before and do the same things with the three other horses in those stables. Not much is said, but you don’t want to force the conversation. He just explains to you that these few horses work well together in the pastures, but that it’s not always this easy.
“Horses have a herd instinct, so they need to be with each other, but also not with anyone. You know how wolf packs have alphas and betas and stuff?” he asks, and you nod. Your friends and you had an obsessive Teen Wolf phase when you were in middle school. “Well, horses kind of have that too, because there’s a hierarchy in their herds. So there’s usually one leader, a mare, and some others that just get along.”
“How do you know which horses get along, though?”
“You just have to observe. You can tell pretty quickly which horses are going to have a leader or a follower type personality. Just put two leaders together, and they’ll clash instantly. It can get pretty bad pretty quick, so the first few times you put certain horses together outside, you really have to watch over them and be careful.”
“That’s so interesting,” you say after a few moments. “I never knew horses to have such complex relationships,” you say, and he smiles.
“Horses are really cool,” he says, and immediately grunts. “That was such a loser thing to say.”
You can’t help but laugh at his self-realization, but quickly reassure him. “No, it’s not. It’s something you’re passionate about, of course you’re gonna find them cool,” you say, and the smile he gives you as an answer shouldn’t make your heart beat that much faster, but it does, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You’re just glad he’s being nice to you - bare minimum, but still, a small victory.
“Time for the hard part, now,” he says when all five horses are happy in the pasture. You follow him to a toolshed where they keep tools, of course, but also two empty wheelbarrows and snacks for the horses like grains, carrots and salt blocks. He tells you to grab a shovel as he rolls out a wheelbarrow and you head back to the stalls together.
There’s nothing complex about shoveling dirty hay and horse shit into a wheelbarrow, but by God is it a draining task. The shovel itself is heavy, so having to pick all that stuff up, heave it back into the cart, and then repeat for who knows how many times is a real burden on your poor back and arms. You definitely let Sunghoon know how hard this is for you, what with all the sighs and loud breaths and grunts you’re letting out. You’ve barely finished cleaning one stall out when Sunghoon is starting his third, and you can tell he’s not happy about it.
“If you complained less, you’d work faster, you know,” he says, that scowl back on his face.
“I can’t help that I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” you chide back, out-of-breath and wiping some sweat from your forehead.
“Yeah? All the hard tasks usually done for you, princess?”
His scowl turns into a small smirk as he looks at you, and you curse your heart for doing a flip when he chuckles at your dumbfoundedness. It’s just a stupid nickname, you tell yourself, no need to get so worked up over it.
“I’ve never had any hard tasks like this in the first place,” you say, moving on to the second stall. “My body isn’t made for it.”
“Well, it’ll have to get used to it.” Yesterday, his mother had also told you you’d get used to it, as a way of reassuring you; but Sunghoon’s words are a far cry from his mother’s, and are more of a threat than anything.
Another few minutes and you’re done, Sunghoon watching you as you finish cleaning your designated stall. You dump everything at the manure pile, then head to the straw pile and fill the wheelbarrow to replace the dirty straw with fresh one in the stalls. And then, you only have to do that four more times. Easy enough, right?
No. Not easy.
The only semi-easy part is taking the horses out of their stalls and tying the rope that are attached to their halter to a ring in the prep room, except some horses are less compliant than others and you end up having to call Sunghoon a couple times so he can take care of them for you.
The whole time you’re heaving manure into the wheelbarrow, you’re complaining. At first, it was the stank that had really gotten to you - as one can imagine, hay infused with horse piss and shit doesn’t smell like fresh linen. But somehow, you got used to it - maybe the physical exertion forced you to forget about the smell and focus on the pain taking over your whole body. 
You huff and puff as you feel the heavy weight of the shovel in your arms and shoulders every time you need to lift it up and bring it back down. The pain in your upper back from years of carrying your backpack on one shoulder makes itself known, and after half an hour you’re whining that you can feel muscle scores coming in your whole body.
“They’ll probably stay for a whole week too,” you mumble to yourself, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.
“You’ll get used to it, I told you. In a few weeks this will feel like nothing.” When you only grunt in response, he adds: “I usually do this on my own, you know. You’re lucky you’re only doing half of the work. Or more like one fourth, with the speed you’re going at.”
“Why don’t your parents or sister help you out?” you ask as you lean against the stall wall, using the distraction of a conversation to take a break.
“My parents already work all week when I’m not there, giving lessons and taking care of the club, so it’s the least I can do to help out on weekends and during my breaks. And my sister already works hard enough at her school so I want her to relax when she’s here,” he replies, never stopping his shoveling.
“But you work hard too, don’t you? I mean, your sister said you were top of your class. You should get a break too.”
His movements halt for a split second only. If your words have any sort of impact on Sunghoon, he doesn’t want to let you know.
“I just study hunched over my desk all week. It’s nice to do something physical, and I don’t mind the time alone.” You’re not sure whether this is an excuse he’s come up with for himself or if he’s telling the truth, but his tone is so final and you understand that he’s done with the conversation, so you pick up your shovel and get back to work. You don’t complain for the rest of the morning.
When you’re finally done with the stalls, you bring back the horses you had walked to the pastures so that others can enjoy the free space and green grass. That’s when you run into an obstacle.
No matter how much you pull, coax, or stare impatiently, this horse won’t budge. Sunghoon rests his back and one foot against the plastic half-wall of the riding hall, chuckling at how awfully you and Dona are getting on. He’s already brought back the other five horses to their stalls and has nothing better to do than be useless, apparently. 
After a few minutes of you trying to negotiate with Dona, to no avail, Sunghoon finally speaks up, just loud enough for you to hear. “Stop staring at her. Horses get nervous when you stare too much.”
You scoff. “But she won’t move! I’m trying to show her the desperation in my eyes!” you shout back, and turn to the horse who only peers at you with empty black eyes.
“Don’t shout. Horses don’t like it when you shout,” Sunghoon simply answers, propping himself off of the wall and taking his sweet time walking towards you. When he reaches you and Dona, he takes the tether from your hands and says, “C’mon, Dona,” without even looking at the horse, who immediately follows, no questions asked.
You stand there dumbfounded and mouth O-shaped as you watch the two of them stride away calmly, running after Sunghoon when your shock dissipates. “Don’t run,” he says when he hears your quickly approaching footsteps, “horses don’t like it when you run.”
“My God,” you say, already out of breath, “how many things do horses not like?”
“Quite a few,” he answers matter-of-factly, although you meant your question more rhetorically than anything.
“How did you do that, anyways?” you ask when your breathing returns to normal.
“Well, mainly, it’s just because she knows me and knows to listen to me,” he explains, turning his head just a bit to look at you as you walk back to the main stables, the sun making itself shy behind the tall trees even though it’s nearing midday. A warm breeze blows, sweeping your ponytail to the side and rustling the leaves on the trees. “But also, horses need to be told what to do, not asked. Your attitude needs to be, ‘we’re going back now,’ not, ‘hey, wanna go back?’” You nod slowly at first, then faster when the words start making sense in your head. Sunghoon wants to make fun of you but finds it sweet that you’re at least trying to understand.
“Right,” you say after a few moments. “It’s not very nice, though,” you add, causing Sunghoon to tilt his head and frown his brows, silently asking you to go on. “Well, I’m sure Dona would like a say in the matter.”
He once again contains his laughter because you look so serious and he doesn’t want to make you feel bad, but ultimately fails and snorts at your comment, making you look up at him, bewilderment written all over your face. “What? I’m being serious!”
“I know you are,” he chuckles, “but don’t worry, Dona doesn’t mind having to go home. And if it was up to her, she’d stay out all night.” 
Sunghoon tells you some anecdotes about the club and its occupiers on your way back, making you giggle at some of the mischievous things the horses have gotten up to. He’s more talkative than this morning which takes you slightly aback, but you’re not going to complain about the change. You were dreading having to spend your summer annoyed at a cute boy you’d have to see every day, so you’re glad his first impression is drastically different from what he’s actually like.
You and Sunghoon part ways a bit before noon, and you plop down on the couch as soon as you get to your grandmother’s house. “Tough morning, huh?,” she calls from the kitchen. You only have enough energy left to hum a small “yes” back. She chuckles at you, then tells you to take a shower before having lunch. You spend the rest of your day sunbathing on a deckchair in the backyard, taking some time to relax before what you’re sure will be a tiring week.
-
One thing you learn during that week and the weeks after that is that Sunghoon has his fair share of fangirls. As a female-dominated hobby, most of the club members are teenage girls who love horses and cute boys.
Tuesday morning before lessons start, he shows you basic things like how to properly groom a horse and how to put their saddles and bridles (which is actually a lot harder than it looks - putting your thumb in a horse’s mouth seems a bit counterintuitive), just in case you ever need to get a horse ready for whatever reason. You’re going to be here for two months, so might as well learn things like these. 
While you help him walk some horses to the pastures, he explains that summer lessons are different in that instead of learners coming once or twice a week, they come all day from Tuesday to Friday and then pass an exam on Saturday morning if they want to. Since both his mother and father teach, they’re able to have two separate groups, one for riders who come for more laidback lessons with games and walks in the fields nearby, and one for those who want to improve their skills in an intense week of both practical and theoretical lessons.
There isn’t much you can do on your own, so after you’ve gone around the stables giving grains to the horses that need them, you join Sunghoon outside in the courtyard as he cleans and greases some saddles and bridles that are starting to wear out. It’s fairly easy to do and he lets you help out, so you sit outside together in silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. That is, until you start noticing the girls.
You don’t want to pay them any attention, but what with the way they wave shyly at Sunghoon and giggle when he waves back, a smile you can’t describe as anything but dazzling adorning his lips, it’s impossible not to. Some of them even call out his name, saying “hi” in the sweetest way they can. You don’t blame them: had you been fifteen and seen a boy as pretty as Sunghoon, you probably would’ve acted similarly, especially if you got to see him on a regular basis. 
What gets on your nerves, however, is how much Sunghoon enjoys it: you can tell by the smirk that won’t leave his face the whole time or the way he makes them all swoon by remembering their names. Bare minimum, you think to yourself once again, but you don’t say anything. Even if slightly infuriating, it’s also entertaining, seeing Sunghoon enjoy himself this way. You would’ve thought he was the type to want to be by himself at all times, unbothered by anyone, yet here he was, blushing at all the attention he was receiving.
After a girl who had come up to him (sparing you a confused “hi” when she saw your unfamiliar face but quickly turning her attention back to Sunghoon), wanting to know how his year at school had gone, skips giddily away, you can’t help but tease him.
“I can’t believe you’re liking this so much,” you say with a smile, keeping your attention on greasing the leather parts of the bridle.
Sunghoon looks up at you, a semi-offended look on his face. “I’m just being nice.”
“I didn’t know ‘just being nice’ entailed letting yourself be showered in compliments and winking at fifteen year-old girls. Aren’t you turning twenty?” 
“I’m not- I didn’t- Whatever,” he gives up, a pout on his face as he returns to work. You nudge his shoulder, making him crack a smile, and you feel like you won the Grand Prix of something.
Another thing you learn that week is that there’s a lot of going back and forth with Sunghoon. One minute he’s laughing at your jokes and acting like a normal human being, and the other he’s giving you the cold shoulder as if he suddenly doesn’t want you around anymore. Sometimes, these changes in his attitude are so quick, they give you whiplash.
You learn to not pay too much attention to these mood swings, not wanting to create any problems for yourself. He seems to be happy when you ask him about horses, so you often come up with the most random things you can think to ask, and he always patiently answers even the dumbest of questions. However, his patience is much quicker to run out when you complain about any task you’re given, so you settle on glaring at the back of his head.
Thankfully, you’re actually a lot less busy than you thought you would be. Your tasks consist mainly of cleaning the stalls, feeding the horses, and taking care of the ones who are too old or have some kind of illness and can’t be mounted. You bring them to the pastures, where they spend a lot of their time, then brush out the dirt and dust embedded in their fur after rolling around on the ground. These horses are often the most affectionate, gently nuzzling your hands when you try to clean their face and huffing happily when they see you arrive.
You do this a couple times a week and Sunghoon often joins you, bringing Nellie out and attaching the rope of her halter next to the horse you’re taking care of so he can groom her as well. These are the moments when he’s in his best mood and he lets you blabber away, talking about random things and concerns in your life as he listens and nods, sometimes sharing some of his as well, letting you take a peek into his closed-off world. You find that you have actually quite a lot in common, with you being in med school and him in vet school, which are both intense and high-pressure. Yet, there’s always something that’s quite surface-level about these conversations; students will always easily bond about the stress of deadlines and horrible professors. You want to dig deeper, but something tells you that Sunghoon will quickly shut you down, and you’re okay with waiting for a bit. You’re just glad he hasn’t been the way he was with you that first day the whole time and that he’s actually talking to you and even sending a smile your way once every now and then.
You also hang out with Yeji quite a lot. Even though she’s on her summer break, competition season means she spends four days a week at her boarding school to train and the other three days at the club, trying to enjoy her summer like any other normal high schooler as best as she can. She doesn’t say much more on how she feels about training so much, only slightly hinting at her level of stress and fatigue like she had done at the dinner table, and you can tell it’s a touchy subject, so you don’t pry.
It does take your body a few days to get used to being outside in the sun and walking around all day, so your first week at the club, you head home as soon as you’re done with your tasks and take a shower then help your grandmother with dinner, spending your evenings reading or playing Scrabble with her (she’s an impressive player, by the way, and has taught you many words). Every Sunday night, you have dinner with the Parks, although Mrs Park also sometimes urges you into her house at one p.m. with the promise of delicious food.
On your second Wednesday there, however, you feel like going out in the evening. After a really hot week, it had stormed during the night that made Tuesday turn into Wednesday which had made the air feel less heavy and more refreshing, so doing anything was a lot less energy-consuming than it had been before. It’s nine p.m. and the sun is low in the sky when you tell your grandmother you’re going to explore the property some more. You know there’s a path that goes behind the pastures to a forest and that is used for horse rides and walks, so you make your way there and follow it.
The mud is still a bit soft from all the rain of the night and morning and you can tell apart footsteps as well as hoof and dog paw prints. The trees on each side on the path are so full of leaves that they make a sort of arch overhead, barring any of the remaining sunlight from entering and casting a shadow all over, and you wish you’d have brought a thin jumper with you. It feels nice to be outside when the sun isn’t making you feel like your skin will melt right off of your body, though. 
You’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, stopping here and there to look at a flower or snap a shot of the clouds you can see through the trees when you reach a clearing. It’s completely empty, the trees making way for a vast patch of just grass and small daisies, so of course you see him immediately.
A couple hundred meters away from where you’re standing is Sunghoon on a tall, ginger horse, galloping in circles. You don’t know much about horse riding, but you can tell that he knows what he's doing from the way he holds himself and directs the horse. His back is straight and his legs are pressed against the horse’s flanks, his hips moving in perfect synchronization with the horse’s strides so that he stays seated on its back rather than bounces like you’ve seen many less advanced riders do. The horse’s neck rounds and its head stays down, making its steps light and refined, and Sunghoon holds the reins long and low on each side of the horse’s garrot so he can gallop in a continuous circle.
The sight is breathtaking.
You’d always thought that horses had a certain grace to them, especially such tall and slim horses like the one right in front of you, and Sunghoon, with his perfect stance and control, somehow brought even more of that grace out. It was clear that it took a lot of work and talent to reach such elegance.
Although he seemed highly concentrated on what he was doing, Sunghoon noticed you after a minute of you standing there, all but gawking at him. You see him chuckle as he subtly changes his position on the horse and slows to a trot, heading towards you.
“Hey,” he calls out when you’re within hearing distance of each other. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just… taking a walk,” you say, pointing to the path behind you with your thumb but your gaze not leaving Sunghoon, still wearing an expression of astonishment on your face. “Sunghoon, that was- I mean, just, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You looked amazing,” you say, unable to keep your honesty at bay. If the girls from the club had seen him ride like this, then you were definitely starting to understand why they were so smitten over him - you felt almost starstruck.
He chuckles again and looks down bashfully, hoping the dim light hides his growing blush from you. “Thanks. I wasn’t really doing anything special.”
“Not anything special, are you kidding? I’m serious, that was awesome. It was like- like a figure skater gliding, or like a ballet dancer doing turns or something,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.
Your grin gets even wider when he lets out a giggle at your words, immediately covering his mouth with his palm when he hears the sound he’s made. He really does have a thing for being paid attention to and praised, you note.
“So you were just on a walk?” he asks awkwardly as a way of changing the subject, scratching the back of his head.
“I needed some fresh air, I guess. Plus, I’ve only been staying in the club, so I thought I’d take a walk around.”
“I can show you around when I’ve got time this week, if you want.” His offer seems to come as a surprise to the both of you, but you nod anyway, grateful for the extended hand.
“That’d be nice,” you say. You’re not sure what’s happening when you two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling shyly at each other, but you don’t hate it. 
“Have you ever been on a horse?” he asks, breaking the silence first.
“Well, just a couple times, but it wasn’t lessons or anything, so I don’t know if it counts- wait, wait, what are you doing?”
A sudden mischievous smile has made its way to Sunghoon’s features as he dismounts, bringing the horse next to you. “Wanna try, then?”
“No,” you say with a pointed look. “No way. That horse is taller than me, Sunghoon, I’m not getting on him.”
“Oh c’mon, I promise you it’s not scary, and I’ll be holding onto the reins the whole time. We can just walk back to the club like this.” His eyes are working hard to convince you, and his small pout makes what little resolve you had crumble.
“Fine. But you better not let go of that horse.”
“I won’t,” he says, and something about his tone makes your qualms dissipate.
You walk over to where he’s standing on the left hand side of the horse and hook your left foot in the stirrup. Sunghoon instructs you to place your hands on each end of the saddle and hoist yourself up. It requires a lot more arm strength than you’d have imagined after seeing so many riders do it effortlessly, but Sunghoon is there to help you up as soon as he sees you struggling, two strong hands coming up to hold you at the waist and lift you onto the horse. You tell yourself it’s the physical exertion and not his touch that renders you breathless.
“Wow,” you say when you look around you, almost two meters above ground.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”
A small giggle escapes your lips. “Yeah. Pretty cool.”
“How does it feel? Are you sitting okay? Here, I’ll change the stirrup length so they fit you. Or we can just cross them over the saddle, since you won’t really need them, anyway.”
“No, I’d rather wear them, please,” you say, and your slight anxious tone makes Sunghoon chuckle.
When he’s done adjusting the stirrups for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he shows you how to hold the reins properly and tells you how to get the horse to start walking. “We usually teach beginners that you knock your heels against their flanks, but because Flame has only been mounted by more advanced riders, he might not like that. Don’t panic,” he reassures as soon as he sees your eyes go wide, “just press your calves against him instead of using your heels. Here, see? I’m holding him by the front of the reins, so he won’t run off.”
“Right, right,” you breathe out. Sunghoon’s right there, so there’s no reason to stress about this.
“Good. Just a small pressure from your calves, and we’re good to go.”
Flame is very reactive, already started walking when you’ve barely squeezed your legs against him. With Sunghoon practically directing the horse for you, you realize there’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the ride.
“This feels nice,” you say as you try to get used to Flame’s quick but steady rhythm. Sunghoon’s smile is better than any other spoken answer he could’ve given you. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you decide to speak up.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Sunghoon replies, looking up at you.
“Why were you so mean to me the first night I got here?”
He seems slightly taken aback by your question, but you get a glimpse of a guilty expression before he looks back down. “Right, sorry about that. I’ve kind of been feeling bad about it all week, but I was scared to bring it up.”
“It’s okay, I’m just curious about the sudden change is all,” you say.
“I just-” he starts, but then seems to think for a bit. “I’m not the best with strangers, for one. Plus, you were going to stay for the whole summer. I’ve built a routine for myself every summer here, and I don’t like it when something, or someone, disturbs my peace. Also, no offense, but I’m not a huge fan of you city folk. So many people at school have this weird prejudice against me for being from the middle of nowhere, so I’ve kind of got a low tolerance for them. So before I even met you, I didn’t really like you. Sorry, that’s harsh.”
You tell him not to worry about it. His words make you understand him a bit more, and you’re glad it doesn’t seem to be anything too personal against you. You tell him to go on and he sighs. “And you know, I talked with my parents and they told me it’ll be nice to have someone else around to help, and that your grandmother always talks highly of you, and that it was stupid to have decided in advance I wouldn’t like you, and I sort of agreed, but I couldn’t bring myself to be okay with it all. It’s like, we’ve been fine all this time, so why bring in someone new? My parents told me that technically this whole property belongs to your grandmother, and that she could bring anyone she wanted, and I couldn’t really say anything against that. But anyway, I told myself that if I just was cold and pretended you weren’t here, that it’d be fine. But then I- I saw you, and…” his words trail off here and he looks down as if embarrassed to say what comes next.
“And?” you pry, too curious not to.
You really have to focus to hear his words because of how low he mumbles them. “And you were really pretty…”
This confession that seemingly comes out of the blue makes your heart swell with satisfaction and you can’t help but tease him about it. “What was that? I didn’t hear you clearly.”
“Oh c’mon, you heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”
“I want you to say it again, though.”
He sighs and gives in. “Fine. I said you were pretty.”
You laugh, way happier than you should be at his words, and he whines at you to not make fun of him. “So you were mean to me because I was pretty? Doesn’t make much sense,” you taunt.
He sighs again, shaking his head a bit as if in disbelief he’s actually talking about this. “It’s just that… I wanted to be nice, I promise you I did, but I just… I’m not even sure myself. I think it just pissed me off even more, because it wasn’t like having to ignore some rando, it was having to ignore a really pretty girl, which obviously I don’t really want to do,” he says, and you laugh again. “But then you ended up being really nice as well and even funny, and I felt like an asshole for being mean. Which I should never have been in the first place, I know. I’m just… bad with strangers, like I said. Not used to them. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, though, so I’m sorry.”
You look at him with a smile and thank him for apologizing. Sadly, it’s a lot more than most nineteen-year-old boys would do, so you appreciate it. You spend the rest of the ride teasing him about how he thinks you’re pretty and how he was really acting like a tsundere, earning a few embarrassed chuckles from him. Something about getting him flustered just gets you going: his shy smile that reveals a pair of dimples and another of fangs, the blush creeping on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet. Too adorable.
When you reach the entrance to the club, he helps you get off the horse, holding you when your knees almost buckle at the impact of your feet against the ground. For some reason, you weren’t expecting to be so high up, even though you had been on a nearly two-meter horse for the past fifteen minutes.
“You know, I could teach you how to mount, if you’re interested,” he says as you brush some horse hair from your leggings.
That’s the second offer Sunghoon makes you tonight; he’s really showing you his nice side now, you realize with a flip of your stomach. You could just say yes, that sounds fun, but instead, you decide to annoy him some more. “Didn’t know I was so pretty that the Park Sunghoon would offer to give me lessons!”
He rolls his eyes playfully and starts to walk away with Flame. “Forget it then.”
You giggle as you catch up to him and nudge his shoulder with yours. “I’d love to.” 
-
From that day on, it’s a lot easier to be around Sunghoon. He still doesn’t let you complain, and you can tell the walls he’s built around himself have only shrunk by a few bricks, but at least his attitude doesn’t flip around anymore. He reveals a side of himself that’s goofier than you’d have imagined, cracking random dad jokes and making side comments that never fail to make you laugh. He’s also quite sensitive to your teasing, always looking away with a blush, mumbling a small whatever at your words, but his shy smile lets you know that he doesn’t actually mind it.
The riding lessons usually happen in between work breaks or at the end of the day, and after a few of them, you know how to get a horse to start, turn, and stop, and you don’t like a complete fool when the horse’s pace goes up to a trot, having mastered the art of sitting and standing at the right time. Sunghoon had shown you a few horses you could practice on and you’d gone for a piebald horse named Picasso whose garrot reached your chin, because the agglomeration of white hairs at the top of his otherwise black head formed a small heart.
Although you’d noticed from the get-go that Sunghoon was nothing less than gorgeous, it hadn’t hit you in the face until now that you could call him a friend, and every time he smiled or that the light hit his eyes a certain way, your heart skipped a few beats. At first, you told yourself that that was it - you found him pretty. That didn’t mean much more than you being able to recognise beauty, and it certainly didn’t mean you actually liked him as anything else than a friend.
That was until this one day, when he was giving you a lesson after everyone had left the club. In the south of France where temperatures often rise to the high thirties in the summer, heavy storms are bound to break out. This was one of those days - it had been raining the entire day, but it had calmed out a bit at the end of the afternoon which was why you had gone ahead with the lesson. However, twenty minutes into it, the rain got heavier again and thunder suddenly rang, loud and resonating in the emptiness of the fields. Horses are generally skittish creatures, and Picasso was no exception, the sound frightening him so much that he took off in a rapid gallop. In less than a fortnight of lessons you hadn’t developed the strong legs and quick reflexes of an advanced rider, and you were unable to keep up with him, falling off of him with a yelp, everything happening in the fraction of a second.
You fell right on your butt, the pain shooting off from there and spreading to your whole body and taking away your breath for three long seconds. You had barely the time to register what had happened that Sunghoon was already next to you, frantically asking if you were okay and telling you to stay still. He pulled his phone out and called Yeji, telling her to come to the riding hall quickly. 
From your peripheral vision you could see Picasso pacing back and forth at the other side of the hall, as if to calm himself down. Sunghoon held you up with one firm hand planted on your back, his other hand resting on your arm as his thumb brushed your skin comfortingly. He helped you regain a normal heart rate by making you mirror his long and controlled breaths, worried eyes never once leaving your face. 
Yeji got to the riding hall in no time and immediately spotted you sitting on the floor and Sunghoon crouching over you, but her brother asked her to please take Picasso back to his stall before she could walk over to the two of you. She nevertheless asked if you were okay and you nodded, trying to give her a faint smile that reassured both her and Sunghoon.
“You feeling better?” Sunghoon asked when your tears had finally stopped falling, wiping away the ones that had rained down your cheeks and reached your jawline. 
You nodded, taking a deep breath through your nose that turned out to be useless when you opened your eyes and realized how close Sunghoon was, face merely inches away from yours and arms wrapped around you, taking your breath away more than the pain had. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, more shocked than anything.”
He let out a chuckle of relief and brushed the hair away from your face, fully putting your heart and lungs out of order. “I’m glad. Falls always happen when you first start out riding, but they’re still really scary. I was worried you got badly hurt for a second there,” he says simply, and before you can even process his words, he asks, “Are you feeling ready to get up?”
You can only nod, looking up at Sunghoon like he saved you from a near-death experience as he helps you up. If he notices your gawking, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re thankful for it. In your three weeks of knowing each other, you’ve been the one to tease Sunghoon and make him unable to say anything. Even just in general, you’re used to being the flirt that makes boys blush - very rarely were they able to do the same to you, even though they all tried their hardest. Yet Sunghoon, without even realizing it or doing it on purpose, had just made your heart flutter and your brain draw a blank. You wished you could blame it on the shock you just had and the pain still making your legs weak, but you’re reminded of all the times a simple smile or passing touch had put you in the same state, and you know you’d be a fool to continue on ignoring them.
It takes you literally falling flat on your ass to realize you have feelings for Park Sunghoon.
-
Unsure what to do with this newfound information, you decide to keep things between you and Sunghoon as they were. You’ll be leaving at the end of August anyway, no need to make things awkward for the remainder of your stay. Although some moments make you wonder if he might feel some kind of way for you too, you try not to think too much of them and enjoy your friendship as is. 
When you’ve reached a level where you being on a horse isn’t a danger to yourself or those around you, Sunghoon keeps his promise of showing you more of the premises and you go on horse rides together, allowing you to discover random creeks and benches that were placed in the middle of nowhere. You go on these a few times a week when you’re all done with your tasks of the day and the raging heat of the sun has somewhat calmed, and to your surprise, you actually really enjoy being out in nature, even though bugs are still a very much unwelcome part of it.
One day he mentions vet school and you’re reminded of your grandmother’s words on your first night here about how it wasn’t particularly what he wanted to do, so you ask him about it. He turns to you with a stunned look on his face. “I didn’t know she knew about that.”
“She told me she noticed a lot of things like that.”
He turns his head again and gazes up at the sky. “Well, she’s not wrong. It’s my parents that wanted me to go to vet school. I’d be happy just taking care of the club and making a living that way, but they say they don’t need my help year round and that it’s better for me to take up a better job.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to do it, it’s very impressive that you’re top of your class.”
He chuckles shyly and a blush appears on his cheeks. “Did Yeji say that? I only got the top grade for a couple of subjects, not all of them,” he says, making you scoff as if to say ‘still, very impressive.’ “And you know, I still like it and find it interesting, and if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”
“Yeah, I get that. My parents are both doctors so there was never any doubt in either their or my mind that I’d become one too, until I started my first year and realized that maybe I could’ve done something else.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
You turn your head to look at him and he mirrors you. “Cause if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”
You both look away with a chuckle. “Guess we’re more similar than I thought we were,” he says, taking you aback, but you’re very glad he thinks that way. You turn to your side, leaning against your elbow as you peer down at him.
“What about a riding career? Had you ever thought about that?”
“God, yeah,” he answers without any hesitation. “My parents signed me up for a few competitions when I was younger, and I won a couple. It made them happy, so I was happy, but I also actually really liked it. My parents never really asked how seriously I wanted to take it, though, and I didn’t say anything, so when Yeji started showing a lot of interest in competitions and becoming a professional rider they focused their attention on her and assumed I didn’t really mind, I guess. I never tried to prove them wrong. As I said, I’d be fine just taking care of the club.” He sighs and pauses for a second. “She was really young when she said she wanted to have a horse riding career, and my parents just ran with it. Now that she’s older and it takes up basically ninety percent of her life, I can tell it’s a lot of pressure on her. But it’s too late to switch places and she’s the same as me, doesn’t want to let down our parents. I just hope she won’t push herself too much, you know.”
You nod, listening intently to his words. “I’m sure you’ll be there to watch over her if she ever does. You seem like a good older brother.”
He smiles and looks up at you. “I try to be.” He reaches a hand up to your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The sudden, unfamiliar and intimate gesture takes you by surprise and as soon as he registers your wide eyes and agape lips he retracts his hand, apologizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I just- I don’t- I’m sorry,” he stammers, looking away with a blush.
You don’t say anything for a few seconds, too stunned by what just happened, and he looks back at you, calling out your name in a small voice. His worried expression immediately crumbles when you start laughing. “It’s fine,” you say between giggles. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles again. “Sorry, I just did it without thinking. My friends and family are always super touchy so I’m just used to that sort of thing.”
“I’m the opposite,” you say, and Sunghoon raises his eyebrows. “My parents aren’t very affectionate. I mean, they tell me they’re proud of me, and buy me gifts and stuff like that, but we never hug, or say we love each other. You’ve seen my grandma, right? The only time she’s hugged me in the almost three weeks I’ve been here was the very first day, and that’s because we hadn’t seen each other in six months.”
Sunghoon nods and hums at your words. “Yeah, now that you say that, your grandma isn’t the type to hug, or, I don’t know, pet your hair or anything, even though I’ve known her basically my whole life. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, and you shake your head.
“No, don’t worry, you didn’t. It was actually… kinda nice,” you admit, looking away from him quickly.
“Really?” he asks with one of the widest grins you’ve ever seen on him, and you can’t believe this is the same boy that glared at you as he opened the door just a few weeks ago. You look at him from the corner of your eyes for a few seconds, trying to hide your smile, but give in and nod.
He opens his arms wide and says, “Come here,” and you look at him in disbelief.
“As in…” you say, pointing with your index finger to his chest, and he nods, blinking slowly. You scoff but do it anyway, resting your head on his chest, and a weird but warm bubble envelops your insides as he circles your waist with an arm and caresses your hair with his other hand.
“Is this okay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine.
“Yeah,” you whisper back. “This is okay.”
-
One Friday morning when he’s grooming Nellie and you’re braiding Picasso’s mane, he tells you he’s driving to the city tonight to meet up with his friends. “We’re just going to McDonald’s and then the cinema… and they’re kinda losers, you know, but it’d be fun if you came too. If you want to, I mean,” he offers, his shyness preventing him from looking you in the eyes. When you say you’d love to, his whole face lights up.
The day passes and when the clock strikes six p.m., you walk out of your grandmother’s house and find Sunghoon who’s waiting for you, back resting against his parents’ car. Hands in his pockets and sunglasses on, you can tell he’s trying to look cool and it makes him all that much more endearing to you. He fixes his posture and takes his sunglasses off when he sees you approaching, as if trying to get a better look; he’s seen you wear cuter outfits than tank tops and denim shorts for the dinners with his family but you’ve never worn such a pretty dress, and his heart speeds up at the mere sight of you.
“Like what you see?,” you say when you’re closer to him, twirling around in your dress.
“You look beautiful,” he says, and the look on his face must not be far from the one you wore when you saw him with Flame in that clearing a couple weeks ago.
His honesty makes you a bit shy, and you thank him as you ruffle his hair on your way to the passenger seat of the car. He stands there dumbfounded for a second until you call out his name, getting him back down to reality.
On your way to Perpignan, he tells you about his friends Heeseung, Jay and Jake, and how they all met two years ago. He shared a dorm with Jay and Jake in their first year of preparatory classes, and Heeseung, in the year above, was assigned as his mentor. They all clicked instantly and have been practically inseparable ever since, although they all live quite far away from each other, which is why it’s easiest to meet up in Perpignan when they’re on break from their studies.
“Heeseung’s girlfriend will also be there. Her name is Yunjin, she’s really nice, so if the guys get annoying you two can just talk together.”
“Why, do you guys have a tendency to get annoying when you’re together?,” you ask lightheartedly, making Sunghoon chuckle.
“Not always, but it’s a possibility. They’re nice though, so don’t worry. Jay and Jake especially are outgoing, even though Jay kinda ruins the mood sometimes cause his jokes are just awful. Heeseung is a bit shy though, just don’t take it personal if he like, doesn’t really talk to you or anything.”
“That’s funny, that reminds me of someone,” you say with a smile, unable to stop yourself. Sunghoon just replies with one of his famous whatevers.
It takes you about an hour to get to Perpignan. When you arrive, his friends are waiting outside of the McDonald’s, the boys waving with their whole arms in your direction while Yunjin watches them cross-armed, a smile on her face. “Oh, God,” Sunghoon murmurs, already embarrassed by his friends. “They’re not always like that, I promise,” he says as you walk over to them.
“Really,” you deadpan when they’ve started chanting Sunghoon’s name, watching as his face turns a deeper shade of red.
“Hi guys,” he greets them, bro-hugging Heeseung, Jay and Jake and kissing Yunjin on each cheek. You remind yourself once again to start from the right and not the left, and greet the boys first. They all say “hi, Y/N” and give you their names, and you’re quite flustered that you don’t need to tell them your name.
“Sunghoon’s told us a lot about you,” Jake says with a knowing expression, and you all chuckle when Sunghoon mutters “shut up, Jake.”
You go to greet Yunjin next and you’re surprised when, rather than simply pressing the corner of her lips against your cheek like most people do when they greet someone they’re not particularly close to, she actually kisses your cheek, an extra-friendly gesture. “I was so relieved when Sunghoon said he was bringing a girl,” she confesses, reminding you of Yeji, “I can’t deal with having to babysit these four all the time. Look at them,” she says, gesturing towards the quartet with a nudge of her head. They’re sizing Sunghoon up, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks and brushing away invisible creases in his t-shirt as he tries to swat their hands away, to no avail, and you can’t help but laugh at them along with Yunjin.
You all head inside the McDonald’s, getting into pairs of two to pick your order on the giant touch screens. You choose a McChicken, potato wedges and ice tea, and Sunghoon chides you for getting wedges instead of fries.
“People who get those think they’re better than everyone else,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Because we are,” you say with a smile. You touch the screen to get to the payment page but Sunghoon goes back, saying he’ll order too.
“But I need to pay?” you say, looking up at him questioningly.
“I can pay for the two of us,” he says nonchalantly, and you tease him with an ‘ooh.’ “Shut up,” he mutters, already blushing, “just let me do something nice for you.”
“Fine,” you smile, nudging his shoulder with yours a bit. “Thanks. I’ll get the cinema tickets then.”
He turns to you abruptly, his eyebrows drawn in together. “But then that cancels out me paying for this…” he whines, and you give him a look as if to say, “yeah, exactly.” 
“I don’t mind getting the tickets,” he says. “I get paid for my work at the club but I never spend any money, so, you know, I can get this for you. It makes me happy,” he mumbles, avoiding your teasing gaze.
“Thanks, Hoon,” you say, the nickname escaping your lips before you can stop it. He doesn’t seem to mind it; if anything, his blush gets deeper. You think he might end up eternally red at this rate.
“Of course.” He orders a double Big Mac, fries and a coke, and you tease him for getting such a boring meal. “They’re classics for a reason,” he defends himself. 
You swear you’ve never seen him so red and so stuttery as when you get on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you for paying, and you think there’s no way he could get any cuter than this. His friends don’t miss it and Jake punches him very obnoxiously in the shoulder as what you can only assume is a weird congratulatory gesture.
His friends are a bit annoying, but in a funny way, so it’s okay. You’re so unaccustomed to their very unique sense of humor that everything they say and do makes you laugh, whereas they’re used to behaving like that and don’t even question their weirdness anymore. Contrary to what Sunghoon told you, Jay’s jokes land with you every time, even when the whole table grunts. 
Most of the conversation, to Sunghoon’s dismay, is spent telling embarrassing stories about him, which his friends have a lot of after having seen him drunk so many times. Heeseung asks you about how it’s been being with Sunghoon at the club, and you don’t really notice the sly smirk on his and Jake’s faces until you’re done answering. You tell them about all the things he’s made you do, but when you notice him about to complain, you add that it’s also been nice, learning how to ride a horse and spending time in the countryside.
“So you’ve seen Sunghoon ride, then?” Jake asks, and Heeseung’s snort tells you it’s not an innocent question.
“Yeah, I have,” you say, but it comes out more a question because their behavior confuses you.
Jake gives you a pointed look. “And, what did you think? I mean, it’s not the coolest sport out there, is it?” he asks, and the way Sunghoon looks down at his half-eaten burger is enough for you to put the puzzle pieces together.
You frown slightly. “Well, I think it’s a lot cooler than running after a ball and pretending like you’re gonna die when you twist your ankle,” you reply, remembering Jake’s mention of him playing soccer. Jay is quick to diffuse the tension when he sees Jake about to bite something back, saying to just talk about something else. You back off and look at Sunghoon, who seems to have completely spaced out and left the conversation. You rest your hand at the top of his knee, his attention snapping back towards you and he gives you a small smile, then turns to his friends and the conversation starts again as if nothing had happened. You’re thankful for it, because you don’t wanna create trouble the first time you meet them and make it awkward, but you really don’t appreciate his friends making him feel like he’s not “cool” because he’s a horse rider; there’s already enough stigma about it being a girls’ sport, he doesn’t need any added pressure from them.
The rest of the meal goes well, Heeseung and Yunjin throwing fries at each other, and the table making fun of Jay for eating his McFlurry so messily. Apart from the horse riding comment and the fact that they love teasing him (which you do too, to be fair), Sunghoon’s friends are nice and make him laugh, so you relax around them once again, although you and Jake exchange a few tense eye contacts. You won’t feel sorry for defending Sunghoon, even if you’ve known him for three weeks and Jake has for two years. 
When you’re done eating, you walk to the movie theater that’s just two minutes away, the boys ahead and you and Yunjin in tow. “I’m really glad you spoke up for Sunghoon earlier, and I’m sure he appreciated it too,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear. “I’ve tried speaking about it with Heeseung, but he and Jake just don’t seem to get that it actually annoys Sunghoon and they say it’s just for fun. I did horse riding when I was a kid, so I know how hard it actually is, and Jay is just a bit more mature than them, so we try to get them to stop, but they still do it a bit. Their humor is basically just making fun of everyone in their group, so sometimes they don’t know when to stop.”
You nod at her words, the situation a bit clearer now. “He should bring them to the club and show them how good he is,” you say. “Or better yet, make them get on a horse so they can see firsthand that it’s not the horse doing all the work like everyone says.” Yunjin laughs and agrees, saying she’d pay to see those boys on a horse. 
You reach the cinema as you make a note to talk to Sunghoon about this later before you can forget. You ask Yunjin what movie you’re seeing, realizing you had no idea, and she rolls her eyes. “I wanted to go see the new Marion Cotillard movie, but the boys said it looked boring, so we’re going to watch some horror movie. I don’t even know the name, but I’m sure it’s just a rehash of the same tired haunted house plot.”
While Sunghoon gets the tickets, you sneak to the food counter and get two bottles of coke and a large popcorn to share with him. He complains that he could’ve gotten that but you shut him up with a tut. 
“Are you good at watching horror movies?” you lean in and whisper when you’re seated and waiting for the movie to start while ads play, and you see him shiver slightly, but that might just be because of the aircon in the theater and not your proximity.
“What do you mean, am I good at watching them? Do you mean if I like them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.
“No, I mean if you get scared easily. You can like them and watch them a lot but still get scared. I feel like you’d scream at all the jumpscares,” you add that later part just to tease him, and you know you hit bullseye when he looks away with a scoff, straightening in his seat.
“I guess they’re fun to watch, but no, I don’t get scared. And I’m definitely not going to scream.” He looks down at you with a smirk, his confidence hitting him out of nowhere as it sometimes does. “But I know you will, so feel free to hold onto my arm when you get scared,” he says, and it’s your turn to scoff and look away.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be alright,” you say just as the lights start to dim and the movie starts playing.
It takes a while for the movie to pick up, so the first half hour, you’re not really into it, paying more attention to the way your hand brushes against Sunghoon’s whenever you reach for the popcorn at the same time rather than to what is happening on screen. However, when a ghost with a very unpleasant face suddenly pops out, you can’t keep yourself from jumping in your seat and letting out a small gasp which Sunghoon would’ve made fun of, had he not been twice spooked as you were, the pieces of popcorn he was about to eat discarded somewhere at his feet because of the jumpscare.
You share a look with Sunghoon and when the both of you realize the other was completely bluffing, you burst into quiet giggles. He offers you his arm to hold onto again and you roll your eyes but take it anyway, glad for the reassurance his warmth brings you. You wrap one hand around his bicep and place the other in his hand, interlacing your fingers together, and for once you’re the shy one and can’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze on the screen when you feel his eyes on you, surprised but pleased by your cute action.
You spend the rest of the movie like this, bodies turning towards each other every time something scary happens on screen as if instinctively going to the other to find comfort. If you weren’t in a public place, you probably would’ve ended up in his lap. Or he in yours, perhaps.
The loss of his warmth when the movie ends and the lights turn back on makes your heart a bit sad, and you already find yourself waiting for the time you’ll get to feel him next to you again. When you walk out of the theater, the sun’s finally set and the sky is starting to get dark. You all walk back to the parking lot, Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Yunjin ahead, talking about the movie excitedly and recalling their favorite scenes, but you and Sunghoon hang back a bit. He’s silent and for a second you’re worried all the hand-holding has made him awkward but when you look up at him, he gives you a smile that calms all your nerves in an instant.
Jake suddenly turns around to face you, walking backwards. “What did you two lovebirds think?” he asks.
“It was alright,” Sunghoon answers. “It had some scary scenes but I couldn’t really get into it.”
“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you two were too busy being all- ow!” Jake starts but is interrupted by a kick in the shins, courtesy of Jay.
“Can you read the room, just once in your life, bro?” he says, and Jake rolls his eyes but turns back around anyway, leaving you and Sunghoon to laugh at his friends’ antics. 
When you reach the parking lot, you say goodbye to everyone, saying it was nice meeting them and you hoped to see them again soon. “If you can, you should try and visit the club at some point, it’d be nice seeing you there,” you tell Yunjin as you hug her goodbye.
The car ride home is silent at first, betraying both your and Sunghoon’s shyness. “Tonight was nice,” you start, wanting to start a conversation after a few minutes of just looking out the window.
Sunghoon responds immediately as if he’d been waiting for you to say something. “Yeah? I’m glad. I was scared you weren’t going to like my friends or something…” he says, glancing at you with a worried expression on his face.
“Well, I really liked Yunjin and Jay…” you trail.
“But?”
“But…” you sigh, too late to turn back, but unsure whether it’s your place to bring this up. “Heeseung and Jake were nice, you know, but that comment they made about you horse riding really brushed me the wrong way.”
“Aww,” Sunghoon coos, and you roll your eyes at his fake saccharine tone. “Did it make you upset for me?”
“It did!” you say, wanting Sunghoon to know you were serious. “Friends shouldn’t make fun of your passions. Plus you’re really good at it, and I’m sure they’d be impressed by you. I talked about it with Yunjin, you know,” you add before he can cut in. “She said it happens all the time and you’re used to it, but it’s not something you should have to put up with. You should have them over at the club some day.”
Sunghoon hums, pouting his lips a bit. “I don’t know… It’s not that big of a deal. It’s how we mess with each other.”
“You looked really down when they were saying those things, Hoon. You’re allowed to say when something bothers you. And if they don’t listen, then they’re assholes. I know you’ve been friends for a while now, and I’m not trying to make you cut them off by any means, but I think you should talk to them. If they’re good friends, they’ll understand and not want to say something that hurts you. At least I hope so,” you say, looking out the window again to hide how upset this truly makes you. Sunghoon’s next words come as a surprise to you.
“Thanks, Y/N.” You look back at him with a questioning look, wordlessly asking him to go on, and he sighs. “I’m sort of used to keeping everything for myself. Taking a step back so I don’t take things personally, not complaining and just doing what I’m told even if it’s not what I want to do, stuff like that, I’m used to it. I just- I don’t wanna bother anyone, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me I’m allowed to voice things out.”
You don’t know what to say for a few seconds, shocked by this revelation. It’s very fitting of him - sacrificing his potential career for his sister, going to vet school to please his parents but taking care of the center whenever he’s on break. You didn’t know this behavior went deeper than that, and it was ingrained in him to just take it all and never put up a fight.
You say, “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. Sometimes, you even need to,” and it’s an unfamiliar breath of fresh air that blows away some of the weight on his shoulders, hearing those words. He chuckles a bit, hoping that the tears pooling in his eyes don’t accidentally overflow.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but it’s nice knowing I have the option. Thank you, Y/N,” he repeats, and you smile at him, relieved when he smiles back.
The rest of the car ride goes by in a flash as you make fun of each other for being so scared of the film and jump from topic to topic like frogs bouncing around lily pads, somehow neither of you ever losing track of the conversation. You tell him someone with such a boring McDonald’s order doesn’t deserve to have opinions and he says that of course you’d think that since you chose potato wedges instead of french fries.
Without noticing it, you soon reach the center, and Sunghoon walks you to your doorstep after parking the car. You stand in front of each other at the door, and you seriously feel like the main lead in a teen rom-com, butterflies in your stomach and all the works as you look up at him, expecting a little something.
“So…” he starts, pressing his lips into a flat line to hide his smile.
“So…” you repeat, nudging your foot with his as you both look down.
“Tonight was nice,” he says sheepishly and you can’t help but laugh, him soon imitating you.
“It was. But we’ve already established that, I think.”
“Right.” His gaze finds yours, and the look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it’s on an acid trip. You stare at each other for a few seconds, unable to look away, and you’re about to run off into the house, the tension too much to handle, when his eyes finally drop to your lips. Knowing him, he probably won’t do much more, so you take a small step towards him and raise your lips towards his, closing the distance between the two of you inch by inch, getting closer, closer, closer, until-
“Sunghoon!” Yeji’s voice rings out in the night, taking you aback as you gasp and stumble a few steps back, not wanting her to see you almost devour her brother’s face. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, then lets out an exasperated “what.”
“I can’t believe you went to see that new movie without me. I saw it in Jay's story. I told you I wanted to go see it!”
He sighs and looks at you, mouthing a “sorry” before walking towards her, hooking his arm over her shoulders as he walks her back to their house. 
“Sorry, lil sis. We can go watch it together, I don’t mind seeing it again. Also, why do you follow Jay? Unfollow him,” he commands, and after that you can’t hear anything because they’re too far away. You watch them walk with a smile on your face, appreciating their little moment together, and your heart does a little somersault of joy when Sunghoon turns around to wave at you from his door.
-
After that night, you’re more determined than ever to turn that almost-kiss into a actually-happened-kiss. However, your resolve soon seems to have been for nothing when Sunghoon tells you about how he wishes he didn’t have to leave with his parents, but they won’t let him stay, and you’re reminded of the Parks yearly vacation that starts the next day, exactly three days after the night out.
It’s a late Sunday afternoon and you’ve done everything you needed to for that day, so you and Sunghoon went off on a horse ride as you often do, deciding to take a break when you reach a field in which a bunch of haystacks rest. You only had to exchange a look to understand the other immediately, so you tied your horses to a tree and raced over to the closest stack, helping each other get to the top and laying there.
“I wish you didn’t have to go either,” you say, playing with a loose strand of hay peeking out from the stack in the small space between you and Sunghoon.
“You gonna miss me?” Sunghoon teases, grinning as he lightly nudges your shoulder.
“As surprising as it sounds, I think I might,” you say, and from the corner of your eye you see his grin get wider.
“I think I will too,” he replies, and he giggles when he sees you try and fail to suppress a smile. “Actually, I definitely will,” he adds just to see you smile bigger, and it works.
“When are you leaving again exactly?” you ask to change the subject.
“Early tomorrow morning. I still haven’t packed,” he says and sighs.
“We should head back so you can pack,” you say even though you don’t want to do that at all.
“Yeah, we should, but I don’t want to,” he replies, practically reading your mind. “I wanna stay here for a while.”
A small silence settles between the two of you, but it says more than a thousand words. The tension that has been hanging over your heads for a while now but only thickened after Friday night is almost palpable now. You’re laying so close that your arms are almost touching, occasionally brushing when one of you shifts, and if you turned your head, his face would be right there, which means his lips would be right there. Well, one of you is going to have to do something about this tension, you think, and it’s definitely not going to be him.
“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head towards the boy next to you. He does the same and your eyes meet. In this late afternoon hour, the sun is right behind you and he has to squint a little bit and use his hand as a shield to look at you properly. He looks a bit stupid like that, but you think he’s cute.
“Yeah?”
The warm feeling that spreads over your whole body at the sound of his voice is what gives you the confirmation that you want to say what you say next, and the courage to do it.
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyebrows raise slightly but he’s quick to hide his surprise and starts grinning instead, revealing those fangs of his you love so much. You have a feeling they’d leave the cutest marks on your skin. “Sure,” he says, letting his eyes drift down to your lips just like that other night.
So you do.
You lean in close enough to press your lips onto his, letting them touch for a brief second before leaning back again. A small pout forms on his lips at the fleeting contact. “That’s it?”
You could just eat him whole, you think. A kiss will have to do. “What did you want?” you ask, trying and failing to hide a smirk.
“That wasn’t a proper kiss.”
“Yeah? What’s a proper kiss then?”
He looks away with a huff. “I’m sure you know what a proper kiss is. Why would you ask to kiss me if you’re not even gonna do it properly…”
“How about you show me then?”
This makes him look promptly back at you, his eyes a bit wider. When he just gulps without saying anything, you add: “Or should I try again? Properly this time?”
He nods, eyes set on your lips. He’d always found them pretty and inviting, and he’d caught himself daydreaming about this exact moment a few times, but now that it was right in front of him, his brain was short-circuiting. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for you.
You find it cute how he screws his eyes shut before you’re even kissing him, making him look like a k-drama female lead during the first kiss scene. You can’t help but smile a little even as you bring your lips to his once again, this time a bit firmer, a bit deeper. He waits for you to move your lips against his before he does so too, but once he’s started, he’s unstoppable.
In fleeting conversations and off-hand comments, you’d learned that Sunghoon had had a couple girlfriends but that it always ended after a few months. When you’d accused him of “virgin behavior” after he did something embarrassing for an almost twenty-year-old, he’d fervently defended himself of very much not being virgin and very much having had sex before, which you’d said was what a virgin would say, but you knew he was saying the truth because he wasn’t the type to lie, especially about this sort of thing.
What was sure was that he kissed you like he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. His shy demeanor from a minute ago is completely gone as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, holding you tight against him. His hands were shy at first, but when yours made their way to his hair so you could gently tug at the strands there, he understood he didn’t need to be so polite. One of his hands found your waist while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb coming under your chin to tilt it up towards him. 
Your lips move against the others’ like you’d done this your whole life, and you’re unable to keep it Disney-friendly for long as your feelings and the fact that you were finally touching each other like you’d been wanting to take over any reason you had left. The kiss turns hungrier, needier, hotter, as if catching up on all that time you lost to dilly-dallying around each other. It’s easy to slip your tongue inside his mouth and you swear you hear him moan when your tongues come into contact, the small sound making your brain turn into mush and giving you one goal, and one goal only: hear him again.
You pull away and press a palm to his shoulder, and he lets you push him down on his back as you straddle his lips, positioning your core right over his growing erection and watching with a smirk as he bites his lips and furrows his eyebrows, humming at the feeling of you against him. You press your lips back against his and note with satisfaction that his movements are messier than before, kissing you mouth open and letting you take full control of the kiss, almost unable to focus on kissing you and on feeling you grind very lightly, almost teasingly against him. Slick pools in your underwear at the angelic sounds he’s making, and you’re very happy he doesn’t seem to be shy about being vocal because his moans are the prettiest sound you've ever heard.
You move away from his lips and trail wet kisses on his cheeks and jawline, moving down to his neck and his Adam’s apple, gently biting and sucking the skin at the base of his throat, enough to make him squirm underneath you but not enough to leave a mark, even though you’d love to, the thought of other girls seeing him all marked up because of you filling you with a sense of pride you didn’t know you could have.
You find his sweet spot at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder, so you kiss him more there, tracing the other side of his neck with your fingernails. He’s so sensitive and those actions alone are enough to have him whine a small “fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” and you think you might actually go insane with lust for him. 
You’ve just started kissing him on the lips again, his hands holding your hips so tightly you think they might almost bruise your skin and his kisses desperate and needy, when his phone buzzes. Taken aback, you pull away quickly, and he whines at the loss of contact. He goes in to kiss you again but you tut and tell him to check his phone in case it’s important. You note that he does what you say, and you wonder whether that’ll hold up for other situations. You observe him as he unlocks his phone and reads the text, and you curse yourself for waiting until he leaves to do this. You could’ve had him heaving, cheeks rosy, lips slightly swollen and eyes blown out for some weeks now, but your hesitation prevented you from doing anything, and now you’ll have to wait ten more days to see him like this again - that is, if he wants to do it again.
“It’s my mom,” he says with a sigh, snapping you out of your reverie. “She says I need to come home and pack my bag and have dinner.”
You pout at each other and he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face in your neck. The rather intimate action surprises you a bit, but mostly you find it endearing, and it was pretty obvious Sunghoon would be the clingy type. You’re happy he feels comfortable enough around you to show this side of him - plus, it makes him ten times more adorable than he already was in your eyes.
“I want to go even less now,” he murmurs, voice muffled and you giggle at him as you caress his head.
“Same. But ten days will go by quickly, right? And I’ll be right here when you come back,” you say, leaning back so you can cup his face in your palms and look at him, his cheeks a bit squished. “You’re so cute,” you whisper with a smile, and the compliment makes his cheeks heat up but for once he doesn’t look away and keeps your gaze locked in his.
You peck his lips quickly and get off of his lap. “Right, we should go then,” and when he whines in protest, you add, “your mom will be mad, Hoon,” which is enough to convince him.
You head slowly back to the center and walk the horses to their stalls, talking about this and that as you often do, but you grow silent as you near his house, dreading having to say goodbye. The only difference with Friday night is that you’re standing at his door and not yours; the tension and heart-fluttering awkwardness are the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, because you had your tongue down his throat just fifteen minutes ago.
“You’ll be alright when I’m gone, right?” he asks, taking your hands in his and letting them hang between you two.
“Yeah, I will. Plus, your parents’ friend is coming to take care of the club, right? I’ll help her, and I’ll hang out with my grandma while you’re on vacation and the ten days will be over before we know it,” you say, more trying to reassure yourself than him.
Sunghoon sighs but nods as if trying to convince himself too. “Right.”
“Right,” you repeat, and look up at him with a smile. The thought that this might look completely dramatic to any outsider crosses your mind, but you ignore it because you’re really not looking forward to spending ten days without Sunghoon here. When he comes back, you’ll only have three weeks left, and that simple fact already makes your heart ache.
He takes you in his arms and holds you close to him for a few moments. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he whispers in your hair. “Don’t miss me too much. But not too little either. Just the right amount,” he jokes, and usually you’d have punched his chest or something but right now all you can do is chuckle. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips, and when you take a step back, he opens the door and waves at you goodbye, then disappears inside the house.
-
Not to be dramatic, but those ten days are probably the longest of your life. The Parks’ friend, Madame Rasson, is nice enough, and you enjoy helping her out and having dinner with her and your grandmother every night, but she’s no Park Sunghoon. You don’t really have the urge to gallop away with her and kiss at the top of a haystack as the sun sets behind you, nor do you feel like a small part of your heart stays with her when you’re not together.
Sunghoon calls you every night under the pretext of wanting to know how the horses are doing, but you know Mrs Park and Mme Rasson are keeping in touch and that he just wants to talk to you. You don’t call him out on it though and let him tell you about his day when he’s done pretending he cares about who did what and who went where. After a few days, as you’re nearing the end of a call, he tells you he misses you then hangs up right after as if he hadn’t been basically crying into your shirt about how much he didn’t want to leave and how much he’d miss you just a few days prior, but you just giggle and text him that you miss him too, which he texts a heart back to.
Yunjin also comes around one day, saying she missed horse riding and wanted to hang out again, so you show her around the club and go on a horse ride together, taking her to all the spots Sunghoon took you to, pointing with a giggle to the spot where you made out. She gasps when she hears that and lightly slaps your shoulder. “You two made out?” she says, surprise and excitement all over her face. You only giggle some more and nod, face heating up.
“I mean, it was obvious it would happen at some point. You guys were giving each other major heart eyes the other day.” You roll your eyes and say you weren’t even though you know you very much were. “Plus, the guys send a lot of voice messages on their group chat and I sometimes listen to them with Heeseung. The way Sunghoon talks about you is so cute it makes me want to throw up sometimes.”
The thought of Sunghoon talking about you to his friends makes your heart jump and swell with pride a bit. “Really? What does he say?” you ask, not looking at Yunjin to hide the stupid smile you’re wearing.
“He just talks about your day and what you guys did, but he’ll focus on a random thing like the way you said hi to the horses or how you ate your food and he’ll be like, it was the cutest thing ever. He doesn’t go into too much detail cause he knows the guys will make fun of him but it’s still really sweet. Heeseung told me he’s never talked about any other girl like that, you know,” she says, looking at you pointedly. “And you probably also know Sunghoon isn’t the easiest to get to know. But he’s clearly let you in, and he really wanted you to meet the boys, so I think he really, really likes you.”
You give yourself a few moments to process Yunjin’s words, but all you can say in the end is “Well, I really, really like him too,” and Yunjin laughs at you.
She stays over for dinner, charming your grandmother with her jokes and willingness to help, and spends the night as well. You two stay up until late talking about your families, school, how she met Heeseung and how cute you and Sunghoon are, and the fact that you have to stay quiet so as not to wake your grandma up makes you want to laugh even harder. When she leaves the next morning, she mentions that she saw the sea was really nearby and asked if you’d been.
“I haven’t yet, but Sunghoon did say he knew a spot and would take me sometime… I’ll ask him about it again,” you say, and she nods fervently, saying she hasn’t been to the beach forever. You hug each other goodbye and you wave at her until you can’t see her car anymore, and you get that empty feeling of being alone again, so you go find your grandmother and bother her with tons of questions which she answers patiently. Five days to go until Sunghoon comes back.
And then these five days are over, and Sunghoon finds you in the middle of the afternoon, taking a nap in your grandmother’s backyard and oblivious to the fact that the boy you like the most is back. He wakes you up by taking your sunglasses delicately off of your eyes and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You frown and open your eyes bit by bit until you recognise the boy hunching over you and then open your eyes all at once, sitting up in your lounge chair and wrapping your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, pulling him down towards you.
“Hi,” he giggles, chin hooked over your shoulder.
“You’re back!”
“I am.” He pulls away to peck your lips, and it’s like he hasn’t even left a day. “I’ll go get changed and check on Nellie and then we can go for a horse ride, if you want?”
You nod excitedly. “Sure. I’ll go get the horses ready.” You both rush to your respective destinations and meet again fifteen minutes later in the grooming hall just as you finish buckling Picasso’s saddle. Sunghoon pecks your lips once more just because he can, and then you’re off.
Sunghoon’s prepared a blanket so you could lie in the grass in the clearing. On your way there, you ask him about his vacation and he admits it was actually really fun. They drove down to Spain, spending a couple days in Barcelona and then a week in a smaller seaside town. In terms of weather and landscape, it wasn’t very different from their hometown, but the food was amazing and the people very welcoming, and Sunghoon and Yeji could finally put their years of learning Spanish in school to the test.
“I took a lot of pictures because there were so many things that reminded me of you or that I thought you’d like,” he admits bashfully, taking out his phone from his bag once you’re settled on the blanket. You rest your head on his chest and rest your hand on the side of his stomach, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your ear and commenting on the pictures he shows you, giggling when he starts rapidly scrolling through fifteen consecutive selfies.
You try to keep up a conversation but it’s a bit hard to do when his neck is right there, close enough for you to press kisses on or to nuzzle your face in if you just lifted your head a bit, and his skin is soft and warm and you want to feel all of it under your palms. Even Sunghoon, who usually never shuts up when he’s with someone he’s comfortable around, is quiet. His sigh when you trail your hand up from his waist to his shoulder tells you he’s probably thinking the same as you, and as soon as you graze your fingers through his hair, he’s rolled you onto your back and his lips are on yours, kissing you with all the need that’s built up over the past ten days. You have a feeling just kissing won’t be enough to satisfy either of you today.
There’s a sense of urgency to all of your movements, the way all four hands are restless and travel each other’s body tirelessly, pulling on the other’s hair, kneading the skin here, caressing it here. Sunghoon bites down on your lower lip and the action makes you moan, so he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your kisses are open-mouthed and wet and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because they translate all the desire you have for him and you want him to know exactly just how he’s making you feel.
You remember how much Sunghoon likes it when you compliment him, or tease him using your words, so you decide to do just that. When he starts trailing kisses your jaw, then sucking and biting at your neck, leaving tiny marks there, you whisper his name, making him hum. 
“Hoon. I want you so fucking bad.” 
You feel him trembling at your words and he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, whining as he continues pressing wet kisses there. He ruts his hips into yours, seemingly more by reaction than deliberately. “Want you too,” he murmurs, and slips his hands underneath your t-shirt, the flesh on your stomach burning everywhere his hands touch it. You lift your arms so he can take the piece of fabric off, and he’s quick to find the back of your bra as well, unclasping it and revealing your breasts to him.
In no time he’s already delving into your body, pretty pink lips circling and sucking on one of your nipples and deft fingers playing with the other, warmth spreading all over you at the intense pleasure he’s finally giving you, wetness already starting to make your underwear stick to your core.
Your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling whenever it feels particularly good, and he seems to like the pain that comes with it because it’s enough to have him moaning around your nipple. “Fuck, Hoon, that feels so good,” you breathe out. Despite your praise and to your confusion, he pulls away, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your shorts and looks up at you when his fingers are around the button, asking for confirmation to go further. He whispers “thank God” when you nod your head yes.
“Wanna make you feel good,” he says as he drags your shorts and underwear down at the same time, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.
You hold yourself up on your elbows, admiring him and his blown-out pupils and disheveled hair - he’s never looked hotter. “You already were, baby.”
“Wanna make you feel even better,” he says before diving right into your pussy, giving you no time to get used to the feeling as his tongue licks up a long stripe up your folds before finding your clit, alternating between giving it kitty-licks and sucking it. You’re a moaning mess in an instant, pulling even harder at his hair and sometimes holding onto his shoulders as if your body might start levitating at any moment. As if that didn’t already feel good enough, he then adds a finger, and quickly a second one into your hole, his thin and long digits feeling better than yours ever have. He must be some kind of fingering expert because he finds your g-spot in thirty seconds, pressing the sensitive spot again and again until you come apart for him in an embarrassingly quick orgasm, moaning his name and how good it feels like a broken record.
That doesn’t seem to be enough for Sunghoon, however, who doesn’t relent and sends your body into overstimulation until you find the energy to tell him to stop. “Was that good?” he asks innocently when his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Was it good?” you repeat, almost scoffing. “Baby, it was amazing.”
“Really?” he asks, a childlike grin on his face that is worlds away from the things he just did to your body.
“Really. Let me show you how good it felt,” you say with a mischievous smile, pushing his shoulder down so you switch positions and he’s the one laying, back against the blanket. “Let’s get this all off, yeah?” you say, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and when that’s gone, with the band of his sweatpants and underwear. He gulps when he’s fully naked under your curious gaze, but he’s brave and his eyes don't leave your face, patiently waiting for what you’ll say or do next.
“So pretty, Hoon,” you purr as your hands trail from his thighs up to his neck, applying some pressure there, not enough to cut off any oxygen but enough for him to feel it. “And all for me,” you add as you mark his neck just like he did yours, before pushing yourself down his body until your face is level with his now fully hard cock. You press wet kisses to his thighs and hear his breaths get shakier when your kisses get dangerously close to his crotch. “Haven’t even touched you, and you’re already this hard, baby?” you tease, and chuckle when his cock twitches at your words.
“Please,” he implores, voice small.
“Just a second, baby. Be good for me, yeah?” you ask and he nods, eyes screwed shut as if in pain. You had a feeling that Sunghoon might like to give control rather than have it, but you hadn’t thought he’d let you have full power over him like that. You can’t say you dislike it, though.
You don’t want to make him wait for too long, and the sigh of relief he lets out when you finally place your tongue on the base of his shaft and lick a stripe up is worth it. Your baby is loud and lets you know exactly what he likes, and what he likes is when you pay attention to his tip and his sensitive balls at the same time. You alternate between having your lips around his tip, hands massaging him, and your palm circling his tip, taking his balls in your mouth and letting them out with a pop. In just a few minutes, his whole body is shaking under your touch and his moans are getting louder and louder, almost shout-like. He calls out your name and pleads with you to stop, and you look up at him with a worried expression. Before you can ask if he’s okay, he says, “Wanna cum inside you,” and how can you refuse him when his blush has spread to his whole face and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and pleasure, trying his best not to cum?
“Of course, baby.”
He sits up and you straddle his lap, telling him you’re on the pill when he’s about to pull out a condom he’d sneakily brought from his bag. “Fuck, okay,” he says, voice shaky at the idea of feeling your bare walls around him.
You raise yourself over him, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck and his around your waist, you line your entrance up with his dick and then sit back down onto his lap, his cock stretching you out in the best way possible as it slips right in, your wetness serving as natural lube. You waste no time before moving your hips against his, first rocking them back and forth and then raising them up and down, the both of you letting out loud moans and breaths at the pleasure taking over your bodies.
“Y/N, feels so good, gonna cum quick,” he breathes out into the crook of your neck, biting the flesh there which feels surprisingly good.
“That’s okay baby, you’ve done so well, cum whenever you want.”
“Want you to cum too, though,” he whines, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“You already made me- fuck!” you scream out of surprise when Sunghoon’s hands suddenly grip your thighs tightly and he holds you steady like this as he ruts his hips up into yours, the angle hitting right where it needs to. Your brain can’t form sentences that make any sort of sense so you’re left blabbering praises and curses at the same time, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching.
“Fuck, baby, just like that, fuck- so close, Hoon…”
The feeling of your walls clenching as your high washes over you is enough for Sunghoon to tip over the edge as well, your releases mixing together in a loud and sticky mess. You’ve never felt closer to heaven as you do now.
The seriousness of it all soon starts to fade as you and Sunghoon lock eyes and burst into giggles, breathing still heavy and irregular. You help clean each other up and put your clothes back on, but you don’t head home until the sun has long set, feasting on the snacks and water he’d brought along.
You check the time before you go to bed that night. 00:57, Thursday 11th August 2022. Twenty days left with Sunghoon. 
-
Eighteen days left with Sunghoon. Your last days together feel like a montage, like you’re watching a movie in which you play the lead role and you know the ending credits will have to start rolling at some point. You hate to be thinking that way, but the first thing you do when you wake up every morning is check the date and tell yourself how many days you’ve got left with your summer love. 19 days, 18 days. If Sunghoon feels a change in your attitude, how your gaze lingers more, how your touch softens, he doesn’t say anything.
You mentioned how you and Yunjin would like to go to the beach, so he called up his friends and got them to drive all the way over here. He said another time when you told him this is the perfect opportunity to show them his horse riding, and you didn’t push it.
He drives you all to what he calls ‘his’ beach spot, and indeed, it feels like it’s yours and yours only. It’s a bit of a trek getting there, having to walk up a dirt road and climbing some rocks before heading down to a small sandy beach where the sand is so hot it burns and the water only feels refreshing for two minutes, but you love it. He side-eyes Jake and Jay when you take off your dress and reveal your bikini-clad body, and barks at them to stop salivating even though they weren’t looking at you.
Yunjin on Heeseung’s shoulders, Jake on Jay’s and you on Sunghoon’s, the six of you play a tournament of who can make the others fall faster. Your boy has amazing balance, robust legs, a strong core, and decent (surprisingly impressive) arm muscles, so you win, a victory peck turning into a makeout session that everybody groans at, except for Jake who whoops. 
You apply sunscreen on each other’s backs and complain that evening when you’ve got weirdly-shaped sunburns anyway, you along the lines of your swimsuit and him on the back of his knees. You eat the watermelon Jay brought and the boys spit black seeds at each other, not daring to do it to you or Yunjin after the stank look you gave them.
When you get home and everyone has driven off, neither of you is quite ready to call it a night yet. Sunghoon eyes the backseat of his car and you understand what he wants immediately. His skin smells like sun, sweat, sunscreen and sea water, and it’s all so him. It smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating, and you think you’ll never be able to get enough of his scent, of him. You won’t be able to look up at the bright star in the day sky or at an orange bottle of sticky sunscreen the same way ever again. 
You’ve had many things in your life. You’ve had dolls, and you’ve had books and CDs. You’ve also had and still have friends, sometimes even boyfriends. You’ve had fun, and times that were not as fun. You’ve had sex. But you’ve not had anything like what you have with Sunghoon. He’s the one who gave you the intense feeling of truly loving and being loved, the insatiable craving of wanting more, the overwhelming need to see and talk to and feel and smell. 
He’s the one who gave you the best summer of your life, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. It overpowers everything you’ve ever had to the point that it feels like it’s the first thing you’ve ever had; it might be the only thing you ever have, because you don’t understand how you could want anything else now that you’ve had him. He’s all you need.
Seventeen days left with Sunghoon. You’re having your joyful weekly dinner with your grandmother and the Parks when you feel something hit your foot gently. You feel it again, and when you look up at the boy sitting right across the table from you he’s trying to hide a small smile, but you know him too well to miss it. His clothed foot caresses the ridge of your own and you suppress a giggle at the ticklish feelings. You tease him back, and you realize you’re playing footsies at the ripe age of twenty years old, but it doesn’t bother you. You both end up failing at not laughing and when innocently, his mother asks, “what are you two laughing at?”, he coughs and says it’s an inside joke.
Fourteen days left with Sunghoon. The last two weeks of summer lessons have started again and Sunghoon and you can’t run around and lay in random fields at any time of the day anymore, but you still try your best to spend every waking second of the day together, to the despair of his fangirls. However, you still find moments where it’s the two of you in an empty stall and one exchanged look is enough for you to push him against the walls, your lips finding his in the fraction of a second. Sadly, before it can get too heated, a nearby horse always neighs or huffs as if telling you to get a room.
Twelve days left with Sunghoon. Conveniently, Sunghoon’s sister and their parents are out for the night at a party in celebration of the competition season that’s about to end, so you finally get to spend the night in his room. You technically could’ve done it before, but the house is old and the walls are thin, and you didn’t need that kind of humiliation. 
Maybe Sunghoon feels that your time is slowly running to its end too, because as the days pass, he melts under your touch like a candle to a flame even more than before, he kisses your lips with more desperation and he holds your hips tighter as if you were going to disappear from between his hands at any moment. He always asks to please, please let’s cum at the same time and please, please say my name and you do it because you’d do anything for him.
You do it three times in a row, both of your bodies weak and sensitive with overstimulation yet unending desire, and you feel tears pouring down your cheeks as your third orgasm of the night hits you. There’s no way anything will ever feel as good as this. You tell him this, and he says, “I know.”
Seven days left with Sunghoon. He asks you what you’ll do when you go home, and you reply that you don’t know, because even though you’ve been thinking about what little time you have left together, you haven’t been thinking about the time after that, simply because it puts a bland feeling in your mouth whenever it crosses your mind. “I’ll start studying again and I’ll start my internship. I’ll get black out drunk at least once a month to forget all the stress and pressure of being a med student. I’ll think about you. That’s probably about it. What about you?”
“I’ll study too and I’ll have an assistantship at some point too. I’ll get drunk on Thursday nights and take care of the club during the weekends. I’ll think about you, too. More than you, I’m sure.”
“That’s not possible. You won’t ever leave my mind.”
“You won’t either,” he whispers.
Two days left with Sunghoon. He tells you you’re going camping for your last night together, not wanting to leave your side for even a second. “We’ve only got so much time left, we need to make the most of it,” he says, and you wished he knew that that had been your exact thought for the past twenty days.
That night, everything goes much slower than it usually does. You take your sweet time taking the clothes off of each other, reveling in discovering the smooth skin underneath the fabric as if you hadn’t seen it dozens of times by now. You find all of his moles and kiss them one by one, and he takes a full minute kissing down from your lips to your core. His thrusts are slow but deep, and your lips don’t leave the other’s the whole time.
-
Ten hours left with Sunghoon. You wake up the next morning when the sunlight the thin walls of the tent are unable to keep away gets too bright for your eyes’ liking. The warmth of this late August night has made you two drift apart while you slept, but you quickly find his body again and you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep and like himself, which is comforting.
He calls out your name and you lift your head to look at him. When he doesn’t turn his head as well and only gives you his chin and jawline to look at, you know he’s about to say something important. Something he doesn’t dare to say while looking in your eyes. 
Your mind goes back to all the times you’ve laid down next to each other and you hope that those will be what you see whenever you think of Sunghoon in the future. The sun not quite ready to call it a day, a slight breeze picking up, the hay a semi-comfortable mattress that sometimes poked you at the back of your neck and arms. Sunghoon right next to you. You were always happy then, hoping you wouldn’t regret anything later. You wouldn’t have known what to do to prevent that anyway.
All you know is you don't want your memory of Sunghoon to be tainted by this moment right now, this moment in which he avoids your gaze and your heart feels heavy because you’re leaving soon and you won’t get to have him in your embrace like this. You want to be happy when you think of him; you don’t want to feel his absence.
“Yeah?” you answer. He still doesn’t look at you, and you get a bit nervous.
He sighs a deep breath like you’ve never seen him do before. “Is it okay if I say something a bit selfish?”
You love him so much. You realize that maybe that’s what you’ll end up regretting. “Go ahead.”
“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he says, and you almost laugh out of relief.
“That’s not selfish, Hoon. I don’t want to leave, either.” You reach for his hand and he lets you take it, your fingers intertwining immediately as if made to hold each other. To hold onto each other. He still doesn’t look at you, and you know there’s something more there.
“It’s selfish because I’m scared I’ll resent you for leaving,” he says, voice a whisper. 
Ah. There it is.
You squeeze his hand, wordlessly asking him to go on. He takes another breath, a shakier one this time, and he chuckles at the tears he feels pooling in his eyes. “You showed up here out of nowhere and you made me so, so happy. You listened to me and got me to open up, which I usually hate doing. You told me that I was good, that you were proud of me. And now you’re leaving and no one will tell me those things anymore.” The first crack in your heart happens when you hear his voice quiver at the end of his sentence.
“You don’t need me to tell you those things. You know them now, and you have yourself,” you try to reassure him.
The second crack happens when he finally turns to look at you, lips trembling and eyes full of tears. “But I want you to tell me those things.” It takes everything in you to not burst into tears, but you want to be strong for him. For the both of you.
“I can still tell you those things. Phones exist, you know.” A small smile appears on your lips as you try to alleviate the tension. Sunghoon’s eyebrows crease and he pouts his lips; you can tell he doesn’t want to laugh in this moment, but the nudge you give him and your smile make his facade break.
You laugh as he whines, telling you this is a serious moment and to not make him laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say between chuckles and you wrap your arms around him, bringing him to lay his head on your chest. You kiss the top of his head and graze your fingers through his hair. “Laughing is all I can do to stop myself from crying, baby,” you whisper. When you feel a tear roll down your cheek, you add, “And it’s not even working that well.”
Sunghoon buries his face deeper between your breasts and sobs. No more, no less, he sobs, loud, choked sobs that make his whole body shake against yours, and you hold him as tight as you can so that they don’t break him in two. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he manages to say, and that’s when the third and final crack happens and your heart shatters. It breaks into a million tiny pieces that fall all over your body; some of them make their way to your throat while others travel to the tips of your fingers and others lodge themselves behind your knees or in the pits of your stomach. Your heart breaks into sharp pieces and you feel them piercing under your skin everywhere. You feel like you’re gonna throw up.
You and Sunghoon aren’t even technically dating. You’ve known each for two months. You live far, but not halfway across the world; you can see each other again. You will see each other again. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, yet it hurts even more than that. 
“I know, baby, I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I’ll miss you so much too. But we’ll see each other again, right? Paris isn’t that far away.”
His sobs calm down and you hear him sniffle as he catches his breath. “Paris isn’t far away, but we’ll be worlds apart. You’re going to study and become a doctor, and I’ll stay here. You know what medical school is like, you’re going to be flooded with work for at least four more years. I can’t expect you to stay in touch all the time.”
“Well, it doesn’t need to be all the time, does it? I’d annoy you if it was.”
“You could never annoy me,” he says, and it makes you laugh. He’d never have said this two months ago.
“Plus, I’ll still get time off. I can come back next summer.”
He raises his head to look at you and you can see all the hope and sadness in his puffy eyes. You want to kiss away the tear stains on his cheeks. You want to right everything wrong just to see him smile again. “Next summer?” he echoes in a small voice.
“Next summer,” you promise, a smile you hope is comforting on your lips.
-
Next summer doesn’t work out. The one after that either. Your internship is going swimmingly, and so is his assistantship, and you simply don’t have the time to make a trip all the way down there. A part of you is also worried that if you see him again, you won’t have the force to leave.
Those years you don’t see him, you’re reminded of the ten days you were apart during that summer, and how you’d felt like he’d kept a small piece of your heart with him, because it still feels that way. There’s something that’s keeping you tethered to that summer, something that the strongest scissors or the sharpest knife in the world couldn’t break.
For a short period of time, he was all you needed. But reality quickly seeped back in, and now you needed good grades and then a good job, a decent flat, a decent income. You didn’t need anyone like you needed him, but you still wanted them because even if they weren’t as pretty, or as patient, or as kind as your Sunghoon, they were still good, and sometimes that was all you could ask for. You were always sorry that you couldn’t give them your whole heart, because a piece of it had stayed in the south of France and you didn’t have the courage to march down there and demand it back. Selfishly, you hoped you also kept a piece of Sunghoon’s heart in yours.
You did call once in a while, but those calls made both of you more sad than happy, and after a couple years the calls were so spaced out that they only happened on birthdays and special events. The next time you see him, it’s five years later, at your grandmother’s funeral. You can only stay for three nights and you spend most of your time there with relatives, celebrating your grandmother’s life, so you don’t see him much. When you do, you get to catch up for a few hours. He’s almost done with vet school and he’s specialized in equine studies. He’s an intern at the horse vet in Laroque which means he gets to stay in the center and help his parents out. Yeji is on her way to becoming one of the best in the country, he adds with a proud smile. You’re finishing up your last years as an intern in a Paris hospital, but you haven’t changed your mind about becoming a general practitioner, which you need just a few more years of experience for. You don’t miss how his face falls slightly when you tell him you have a boyfriend and that you’re thinking of getting engaged to him. He tells you he’s happy for you with the saddest eyes. The hug he gives you when you have to leave brings back so many feelings and memories, and even after all these years there’s nothing more that you want to do than stay in his arms and never move again.
You break up with your boyfriend as soon as you get home.
On a random Thursday, you’re done with your decade-long studies, and you’re free to go out into the world, a medical diploma in hand. You get a job in a cabinet owned by a friend of your parents, and you like the job, but you know you’re just passing the time until the opportunity you’ve been waiting for comes around.
Every week, you check whether a spot opens up for a general practitioner in the small town of Laroque-des-Albères. It doesn’t for about eighteen months, until suddenly it does, and in a week you’re packing your bags and taking that trip you took twelve years ago.
Sunghoon doesn’t even know. He could be married with a wife and three kids, for all you know, and it’s foolish but you hope he’s been waiting for you. He’s just finishing up a health check on some of the older horses when you get out of your car, eyes finding him immediately. From the other side of the courtyard, he smiles at you, and it’s like the summer you first fell in love all over again.
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tkaulitzlvr · 3 months
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can you make a tom!sub? also i am INLOVE with all your writings💓💓
i was thinking if you could write tom being submissive and the (female) reader not letting him finish untill she says so?also if the story could contain some stuff like handcuffs and you know you know... ( only if your comfortable! )
thank you again and no rush! take your time💓
PLEASE - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: after tom loses a bet that the two of you had made, as promised he has to face his consequence - which involves the roles you usually have in bed completely reversing for the first time.
content: smut
a/n: sub tom has been requested soooo much on my account and honestly i’ve avoided it cause in my eyes he’s like the most obvious dom and that’s all i see him as…but him as a sub is just as hot so i finally decided to write it - i hope it lives up to ur expectations🙏
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my eyes light up when i watch tom look down with a cheesy grin plastered on his face, no longer able to hold eye contact after i had blown him a kiss and winked from behind the barrier. i can just about distinguish his features from the dull flashing lights of the venue, and most importantly, the way his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. i made him blush. the bet which, in any other circumstance would be completely ridiculous, had never meant so much until now. the whole idea is somewhat stupid, tom deciding that it would be fun to see who could make the other blush first - clearly under the impression that he would win. the reward, though not explicitly discussed, is the thing that excites me the most, the endless possibilities from the vague prize of ‘getting whatever you want from the other person’ too good to pass up.
and by the way tom shoots me a quick glance, a defeated smile tugging on his lips, he knows that he has lost too. he shakes his head and mutters something under his breath - not that i can hear it, the speakers blasting out the band’s music paired with psychotic fans’ screams stop me from hearing even what the person next to me is saying. his fingers resume their fast-paced strumming on the guitar splayed across his lap, eyes occasionally darting in my direction until he stands on the stage above me, in line with the rest of his band.
“thank you so much for coming tonight paris. we love you all and hope to see you again soon, goodbye!” bill’s voice is followed by thousands of high-pitched screams, the irritating sound only seeming to get louder when tom snatches the microphone from his brother, shouting ‘thankyou’ to the crowd in his thick german accent.
i make my way to the backstage area whilst tom and the rest of the band say goodbye to the fans, throwing drum sticks and guitar picks into the crowd as they would after every show. i flop down onto one of the couches, the loud screaming still not slowing down as i wait for tom to exit the stage, knowing that he won’t be thrilled after losing the bet he was so eager to initiate.
“you did so good baby, i’m so proud of you!” i smile widely when tom walks through the door, standing up from the sofa and engulfing him in a tight hug, burying my head into his shoulder. he smiles weakly, planting a soft kiss into my hair and wrapping his arms around my waist.
“thank you schatz.” he mumbles, his voice somewhat sad despite the wide smiles that remain etched on the rest of his band members faces - the show they have just performed being one of their best so far, practically flawless. tom pulls away and moves to sit on the couch behind me, sighing frustratedly and spreading his body across it. i don’t need to ask why he is so upset - not only because the reason is totally obvious, but he decides to express his annoyance himself.
“i can’t believe you won.” he groans, tilting his head back and letting it rest against the back of the couch. he gives me a small smile, not intending to seem mad with me, instead he seems annoyed with himself. he opens his arms out, gesturing for me to join him on the couch. i move over, sitting beside him as he wraps an arm around me.
“have you thought of anything yet? for your reward, i mean.” the pads of his fingertips run along my arm, his chin resting on my head as i smile slowly, knowing the answer to his question the second he had asked it - hell, i had known exactly what i would do if i won the second he proposed the bet.
“i think i have something in mind.”
“you want to be in control?” his face displays a mix of confusion and interest, his eyebrows raised, slight smirk on his lips. i nod my head, moving closer forward as i already straddle his lap with my hair disheveled and lips swollen - tom having initiated something the second we had entered the hotel room. things didn’t turn out the way he had expected though, my hand resting firmly on his chest when he had attempted to climb on top, as he did every other time.
he tilts his head to the side, seeing that i am completely serious about this. his hands find my waist, fingers threading through the loops in my jeans as he grinds my hips over his already prominent erection. i shake my head when he tries to manoeuvre my hips again, placing my hands over his and stopping his movements entirely. his eyes widen, body stuck in place as he seems startled by my sudden change in attitude, knowing that usually i would be underneath him in this moment. he shifts around a little, squirming beneath me and sitting up slightly, his back now resting against the headboard as my legs are wrapped around his waist.
“stay still.” i rest my hands flat against his chest, watching as his mouth falls open a little, lips parted as he looks up at me, his gaze bordering desperate as i can tell that he wants me to do something, though he doesn’t know how to say it.
i shift my hips to get closer to him, a low groan leaving his lips in the process, soon cut off when i press my lips to his own, his noises muffled into my mouth. and when i begin to grind against him at a more consistent pace, his ability to kiss back seems to diminish by the second, his breath hitching in his throat. i pull away, watching as his face falls in disappointment, clearly wanting more than just a kiss. and i plan on giving him that, as long as he uses his words, just as he tells me to.
though words can wait for now, my actions taking control as i reach forward, my hands finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift the material upward and off of his frame, revealing his toned upper half. i throw it to the floor somewhere, returning my attention to tom as his hands reach out, attempting to pull my own small crop top off. he doesn’t get far though, his hands roughly returned to his side as i shake my head.
“no touching. not unless i say so.” he seems to understand that he has next to no control right now, that he can do nothing but wait on me, and i can tell that it irritates him, a low groan sounding from his lips. my eyes never tear away from his own, watching the way he stares intently at my cleavage, eyes drinking it all in as i lift my top over my head, revealing the small lace bra holding my breasts in place. his tongue comes out to flick the small metal piercing that rests on his bottom lip, eyes quickly darkening.
“fuck baby…let me touch you- please.” his voice is barely above a whisper, bordering between frustrated and desperate, both causing him to go next to insane as i deprive him of the one thing he relies on to show affection - touch. he begins to squirm beneath me, attempting to create some sort of friction between us, his hips moving up and down along my clothed heat.
“sit still or you won’t get to touch me at all. you have to be patient.” i scold, watching as he nods his head, his movements soon slowing, cut off by his breath hitching in his throat when my hands make contact with the small metal button of his jeans, undoing it slowly. his eyes stay locked on my fingers, watching as i tug the zipper down, showing no resistance and instead bucking his hips upward and allowing me to slide the denim off of his body when i tug it downward, the material pooling at his feet. i quickly slip out of my mini-skirt, our underwear now the only thing separating us, and i can tell that it drives him crazy.
his chest rises up and down, a thin coat of sweat lining his forehead as his entire body jolts with even the slightest of movements, desperate whines leaving his lips when my hands finally palm him through his boxers, the first bit of attention i give towards the place where he craves it most.
“fuck…oh god, oh my god.” his head falls backward, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when i run the palm of my hand up and down his length, still separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. his erection seems to get more and more painful with each second, every gentle touch i press to his clothed dick generating more sounds from his parted lips - small whines soon turning to loud groans, to the point where he can’t handle it any longer.
“please schatz…do something…need it so bad-shit!” his eyes squeeze shut, wincing slightly when i touch his tip through his boxers, this area more sensitive than the rest of him. despite his pleas, i decide to go that little bit further, knowing how crazy it will drive him.
“what do you want me to do tom?” my voice is low, crossing the line between innocent and seductive, creating a sickly mix of the two that seems to drive him crazy. my head moves downward, lips directly against his ear as i take his lobe in my mouth, biting it lightly before releasing it, feeling the way his whole body shivers below me. my lips make contact with his neck, placing slow kisses, just enough to tease him a little more. “you have to tell me what you want baby.”
“you want my hands?” i whisper into his ear, my hand trailing to palm him once again, yet another groan falling from his lips. “or my mouth, maybe?” i take the skin of his neck between my teeth, sucking slowly before letting it go, my tongue running over it momentarily. he stays quiet, his breathing heavy and body becoming more restless.
“or…” i add, pausing for a few seconds, buying time to leave him guessing, pulling back to study his face, the sight enough to resemble heaven on earth - or at least something pretty damn close to it. his eyes are half-lidded, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue poking out of his mouth. he watches me intently, eyes fixed on my hand as it moves to grab his own, trailing downward to my clothed heat, placing it flat against my panties. “do you want this?”
he nods his head rapidly, fingers trying to pull the lace from my lower half, not getting far as i pull them back, leaving him even more desperate than he was seconds ago.
“need to be inside you.” he whines, sighing under his breath and adjusting himself once again, thrusting his hips ever so slightly in the hopes that he will feel any contact, even if it is only for a second. but when i smile weakly above him, sitting up a little and reaching for my panties, his eyes visibly light up, thrilled by the possibility of finally getting what he wants. i step out of my underwear, fingers finding the clasp of my bra and removing it from my frame. tom’s eyes scan my body hungrily, starting at my now exposed breasts, moving down to my lower half. his hands reach outward, making contact with my waist as he pulls me closer to him. i let him this time, watching the way relief takes over his expression from being granted the simple permission of touching my body.
the pads of his fingertips trail upward, moving along my stomach, just about to touch my breasts before i stop him, much to his frustration.
“please baby…can’t take it- need you so bad, need to touch you…” he is practically begging at this point, his body tired and sweaty beneath me, desperate for any sort of relief.
“wait.” i state simply, showing him no sympathy, though my actions seem to act as some consolation as my hands make contact with the waistband of his boxers, fingers dipping underneath them teasingly. his breath catches in his throat, breathing becoming even more erratic as i get closer and closer to giving him what he wants, before tearing away his hope and moving my fingers almost completely away. i tug on the waistband, slipping my fingers in once again, inching closer to his dick, the presence of his boxers frustrating to him as i can only do so much with them there. my hand finds his length as i run a single finger down it, a loud moan pouring from tom’s lips as his head falls backward. i struggle to fit another finger into his boxers, the fabric restricting my movements too much - and it drives him insane.
“fuck schatz…take ‘em off, please…just take them off.” he whines loudly, groaning when i slip my hand out of his boxers, only to tug them down ever so slowly, almost too slowly for tom as he bucks his hips slightly. his dick springs free, hitting his lower abdomen and god, the sight is enough to make me cum on the spot. it is almost painfully hard, the veins within it more prominent than ever, the tip red as pre-cum spills out of it. i almost pity him, watching how he grunts at the slight touch of my fingers wrapping their way around the base.
he hisses when i pump him a few times, my thumb moving to swirl around his tip, his mouth falling open whenever i apply pressure. i don’t give him too much, though, nothing that brings him anywhere close to his release, just enough to show him what he can receive, and he craves for more.
“please just sit on it, please schatz…i can’t, want you so bad- fuck!” he attempts to bring one hand to his hard dick, stroking it once before i pull him away roughly, swatting his hand and placing it by his side.
“what did i say, hm? you have to listen to me to get what you want.” all he can do is nod his head, far too focused on my actions as i speak his eyes glued to my heat as i begin to move forward, lifting my hips upward so that his tip is aligned directly with my entrance. my hands place themselves on his shoulders, maintaining a firm hold before slowly sliding downward, taking just the tip inside of me. he whines loudly, hands flying to rest on my waist, his fingers already digging into the skin, bound to leave marks.
i lift my hips upward after a few seconds, his tip sliding out of me as he whines in frustration, desperate for something, anything, besides from being teased like this. he knows that there is no point in trying to do anything himself - realising that i will just stop him. instead, he watches impatiently as i shift my hips downward again, taking a little more inside me than i did last time. i moan quietly at the sensation, his dick slowly stretching me out as i stop when he is around halfway.
his eyes are now completely closed, squeezing shut as his mouth is now wide open, chest rising and falling at a fast pace, clearly far too lost in pleasure from my minimal acts to think about anything else.
“tell me what you want baby.” my voice is more forgiving this time, lacking the harsh tone it had when i scolded him all those times. now he knows better than to initiate anything, his eyes slowly opening when he registers what i say.
“keep going.” he pleads, his hands trailing to my hips, squeezing the flesh roughly. he clears his throat, though his ability to sound even a little bit composed is long gone, and he knows it too, soon realising when he opens his mouth to speak again, his voice low and whiny. “take all of me, please baby…”
i lean my face closer to his own, lips ghosting over the corner of his mouth. “open your eyes…watch me.” i smile when his eyes flutter open, dark and tired, their gaze flickering to watch where we are connected, struggling to stay open when his dick begins to slowly disappear inside of me, inch my inch.
“oh god-fuck…feels so good…” i haven’t even moved yet, staying sat completely on top of him, not circling my hips and instead adjusting to his size, my walls stretched out as i wait for the pain to turn to pleasure. it doesn’t matter that i haven’t done anything yet, not to tom, anyway. the evident euphoria on his face tells me enough, the continuous teasing i had put him through meaning that literally anything is enough to leave him a moaning mess.
and when i begin to circle my hips, grinding them over his pelvis, the noises that sound from his parted lips become louder and more inaudible, once clear attempts to say my name now barely understandable, lost in the whines that take over any speech. his body shines with a thick layer of sweat, highlighting each defined muscle from beneath me as they contract with each harsh squeeze of my hips. i lift them up, almost all the way off of tom’s dick, before slamming back onto it, soft curses spilling from his lips when i repeat my motions, soon finding a fast rhythm. somehow his hands don’t leave my waist, taking advantage of how i allow them to rest there, afraid that i will tear them away if he decides to move them anywhere else. but i see the way his eyes are fixated on my breasts, fighting the urge to close them purely so he can watch the way they bounce up and down with each movement of my hips. there are times when he jerks his hand upward, seeming to hesitate and return it to its position on my waist, though it doesn’t take long for the urge to become too strong.
“let me touch them liebe…please- just wanna touch them.” a string of pleas follow his request, his voice returning to a low whisper as he awaits my response, his head falling backward when i angle my hips a certain way, his tip brushing directly against my g-spot. i moan loudly at the feeling, eyes rolling to the back of my head as i repeat my movement, his tip drilling against it repeatedly. i am far too lost in pleasure to refuse his ask, nodding my head and mumbling a quick and almost inaudible “go ahead baby”.
and he wastes no time, his hands rushing to cup my breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples as he lets out a satisfied groan. he squeezes the flesh harshly, mesmerised by the feeling as the movements of his hands become more feverish, his need seeming to increase as he moves his head forward, allowing his lips to make contact with them. he places rough and open-mouthed kisses onto the flesh, kneading what isn’t in his mouth, sucking on my breast for a few seconds before running his tongue over the skin, his lips leaving a trail of purple marks scattered across my chest.
“i’m so close…please don’t stop baby- fuck, don’t stop- please!” his voice vibrates against my breast as he continues to kiss the skin, often cut off momentarily by a loud groan whenever i clench around him. and i can tell that he means it, his dick twitching inside of me every few seconds, the frequency of his moans increasing with each movement of my hips.
“you’re not cumming yet.” i state through breathy moans, circling my hips and digging my hails into his shoulders. he whines in response, pulling his head away from my breast to look upward at me. “hold it, you have to wait for me, mhm?”
“can’t baby- i can’t…fuck- it hurts so bad…” if i weren’t to desperate to chase my own release, i would probably pity him and let him cum out of sympathy, though now all i can focus on is finding my own climax, my bounces becoming more sloppy and feverish, craving nothing more than to release the knot in my stomach that begins to build.
“yes you can.” i breathe out, taking my hands and pressing them to the back of his head, bringing his lips closer to my breasts and moaning when his tongue swipes across my nipple. “you can cum when i say so.”
the knot in my stomach becomes more noticeable, my free hand moving downward to rub soft circles on my clit, my head falling backward at the overwhelming pleasure, knowing that it won’t be long until i get to my release. i don’t tell tom that, though, watching intently as he can no longer plant firm kisses to my breasts, instead he falls backward to rest his upper half against the headboard, soft and frequent curses pouring from his lips as he holds back his release, the task becoming harder and harder for him as each second passes.
my own head falls backward, eyes rolling back as i finally let go, feeling my release wash over me. i clutch onto tom’s back for support, rocking my hips back and forth slowly as i ride out my high, still aware that tom hasn’t come yet. and i can tell that he can’t hold on much longer.
“please baby…please let me cum- it hurts so bad schatz, shit!” tears begin to roll down his cheeks, soft whines spilling from his lips far more often than before. the slow roll of my hips on his dick doesn’t help - the angle allowing him to hit the deepest spots inside of me, my walls unconsciously clenching around him when the pleasure gets too much. “need it so bad baby, just wanna cum, please…”
my lips collide with his softly as he still tries to kiss back, the taste of tears on his mouth as i move against him slowly. “c’mon, cum baby…” he sighs loudly once he registers that he has my permission, no longer able to kiss back as his head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing, loud and elongated groans elicited from his lips as i feel his hot cum shoot into me, coating my walls as i ride out his high.
“shitshitshit…oh my fucking god!” he begins to lazily thrust upward into me, anything to increase the pleasure he already feels, his movements somehow matching mine as he moans into my mouth, his hands glued to my hips. his nails dig into the skin, leaving harsh marks there. eventually, both our movements slow down, tom’s body trembling as it lays against the headboard, his breathing fast and heavy. i collapse on top of him, his dick still inside of me as i rest my head on his chest. he rubs my back up and down, fingers tracing random patterns there.
“fuck me.” he mumbles into the now silent room, my head whipping upward to look at him, his fucked out expression enough to leave me mesmerised, taking in every feature on his face - the way his eyes struggle to stay open, slight wrinkles on his forehead from his furrowed brows, his lips remaining slightly parted, he somehow looks perfect. “you need to be on top more baby, that’s the best sex we’ve had.”
his hand tiredly reaches to cup my cheek, drawing my face nearer to his as he connects our lips. the kiss is lazy and sloppy, still filled with passion as i press my lips firmly onto his own. he pecks them a few more times before pulling away, standing up and pulling me toward the bathroom to clean up.
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spidybaby · 5 months
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Hi♥️
Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?
Gold Digger | Part III
Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.
Warnings: cursing.
A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.
Part one | Part two
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London - Seventeen months later
"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"
"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."
"And what's stopping you?"
"What if we don't work out?"
"Time is unpredictable."
"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"
"You know that is not the case. You told me that."
"I'm scared."
"It's okay, it's going to be fine."
Paris - Eighteen months later
14:35 p.m.
"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."
"Yes, I found the one."
He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.
You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.
"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."
"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.
After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.
They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.
"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.
Paris - Kylian therapist office
"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"
"Oui, I wrote my heart out."
"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."
"Don't you want to read it?"
"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."
"It happened." He nods.
Parc des princes
- 5:30 p.m. -
"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."
"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."
"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.
"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.
The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.
"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.
"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.
"That's it, Junior."
Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.
Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.
His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.
But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.
"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."
"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"
"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"
"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."
"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.
- On the other side of France -
"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."
"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.
"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."
Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."
"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."
"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."
"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."
"Okay, no biggie."
You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.
When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.
"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."
You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.
Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.
You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.
An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.
"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."
"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"
While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.
You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.
"I think I want the other one more."
"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."
"Oui." You nod smiling.
While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.
"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."
"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."
Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."
"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.
They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.
While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.
"Okay, this one would be."
"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."
You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.
You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.
- Kylian's House -
The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.
But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.
He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.
Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?
After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.
But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.
All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.
But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.
- Neymar's house -
"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"
"I bring her something."
"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."
The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.
He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.
"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."
"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."
They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.
The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.
"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.
"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."
"In Spain?"
"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."
He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.
"Dude, I really miss Verrati."
"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."
"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."
Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?
He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."
"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.
"I do, and I'm thankful for that."
- The furniture store - Hours prior
"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."
"Hello, roots."
"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.
Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.
"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.
"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."
"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.
"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."
"So you're back for good?"
"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."
"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."
Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.
"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."
"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."
You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.
"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."
"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.
Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."
"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."
Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.
"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"
They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.
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It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.
The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.
Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.
The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.
Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.
But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.
You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.
Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.
You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.
So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.
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The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.
You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.
His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.
You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.
"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."
"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.
"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."
"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."
You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?
"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"
- Dressing room - Parc des princes -
"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.
The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.
And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.
His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.
Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.
"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"
Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.
"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."
"I'm good, I promise sir."
"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."
"I promise."
After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.
The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.
He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.
The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.
He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.
Even when you're not there, he still did it.
While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.
His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.
That same ring he bought two days before that night.
The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.
Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.
Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.
Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.
Sure, there won't be anybody after you.
Unsure about you being his future.
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"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."
You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.
The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.
You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.
Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.
Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.
She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.
And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.
You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.
You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.
"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."
You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.
So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.
You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.
The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.
You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.
The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"
"Hello"
"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"
You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"
"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"
"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."
"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"
You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.
"I don't want to be a bother."
"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."
"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"
"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.
You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.
Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.
After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.
You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.
- Bondy - Later that day
Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.
The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.
"Kyky"
Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.
How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.
"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."
"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."
"I just want this bad time to end."
"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."
He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.
"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."
He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."
"Deal."
While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.
"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."
"Sorry, I'm just nervous."
"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."
You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.
"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."
"Get to the point." You laugh.
"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"
You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.
"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."
-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -
"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"
"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."
He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.
"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.
"Yeah?"
"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.
He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.
"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."
Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.
When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.
"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.
The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.
"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."
Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.
"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."
"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."
"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."
"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."
"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."
"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."
"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."
You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.
You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.
"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.
They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.
You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.
His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.
You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.
"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."
"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.
He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.
"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."
He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.
"How?"
"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."
"Why wouldn't I?"
You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."
He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.
Fuck it, he thought.
Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.
The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.
"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."
You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.
"Can you look at me?"
He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.
"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."
"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."
You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.
His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.
When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.
You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."
He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."
You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.
"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."
Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.
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The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.
The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.
But oh boy, how wrong they were.
You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.
"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."
You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."
"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."
"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.
Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.
"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.
"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."
The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.
When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.
"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."
"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."
"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.
"Are we alone?"
You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.
He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.
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- Five months later -
"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.
He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.
During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.
"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.
"Why would I get free Uber eats?"
"Uber eats Ligue 1"
"Bébé, just no."
You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.
You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.
"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.
"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."
You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.
The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.
"We're okay, thank you."
"He's in the garden. He's reading."
He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.
"Père."
Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.
"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."
"Hi, sir."
"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."
You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.
"Sit, please."
You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."
"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."
Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.
"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."
"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."
"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."
You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.
You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.
You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.
🪷🪷🪷
🏷: @slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko @megannandrewss @unstablefemme @suzysface @nightlockcornucopia @ama1a2 @topguncultleader @lunamelona
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loupy-mongoose · 8 days
Text
I had fun writing this part, and got it done quickly. :>
Speech guide; Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak in parentheses)
PREVIOUS NEXT (Not yet)
~~~~~~
After walking a good ways, the group arrived at a cozy looking house with shrubbery in front of a covered porch, located at the edge of the woods surrounding the town.
On it, sitting on a porch swing, was a blond man, his head facing away from them. Soon, he turned to the approaching group. And as soon as he saw them, he stood up with a wide smile and shimmering eyes. Randy noticed what appeared to be dark claw scars down his cheek, and a white scarf was wrapped around his wrist.
Suddenly, Jamie broke into a brisk run, meeting the man at the bottom of the porch steps. Without breaking stride, she leapt into him, flinging her arms around his neck. He lost his footing and fell into a sit on one of the steps. But his face was that of pure joy as he pulled the small girl into a full hug.
As the Linden trio caught up to their escort, Randy saw her give the man a peck on the cheek. She then got up off of him, allowing him to stand as well. Pari floated over and nuzzled him fondly before draping herself over his shoulder.
The man scanned them with a friendly smile that shone in his green eyes, eventually holding his gaze on Lav. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but... He pointed at her with both hands. I'm guessing you're Lavender?
Randy looked to his daughter to see her give a shy smile and a nod.
He turned back to the man, who, although it was hard to tell in the fading light of day, appeared to be as tall as Randy himself. ...No, maybe a wee bit taller...
Yes, this is Lavender. He placed his hand on her shoulder. He then motioned the hand that was still in Akoya's. And this is her mother and my wife, Akoya. I'm Randall. Linden.
The man reached out to shake hands with Randy. I'm Cody Rennard. It's wonderful to meet you all!
It's nice to meet you too, Cody. Akoya took her turn to shake. You're a breath of fresh air next to Jamie.
Randy gave her a sharp look. Akoya, that's a little rude.
She's right, though.
Randy turned to Jamie in surprise. The girl had gone up onto the porch and was sitting on a stool, wiping her feet thoroughly with a wet cloth and a bucket of water. She shrugged as she worked, giving him a blank look. I know how hard I am to get along with.
Hey now, I won't take any slander against my wife with our guests. Cody pointed at her in playful anger. Including from her own mouth.
Randy and Akoya's eyes widened. Wife??
The man gave them a toothy smile. Yeah! Been married five years now.
Five years?? How old is she?? I thought she was a kid! Akoya was absolutely flabbergasted. She's as tall as Lav!
Randy attempted to stop her, to dial her back a bit, but he had to admit he was surprised too.
I'm twenty-six. Jamie stood up and stretched, a gleam of amusement flashing in her icy gaze. But as she relaxed, it vanished and left only exhaustion. And tired. Let's go inside.
Oh! Hey! Cody gestured to the newcomers to follow them into the house, but he spoke to Jamie as he held the door open for them all. I got a surprise for you, but it's to share with our guests too. If they want any, of course. I'm sure they'll get eaten regardless~
Jamie looked up at the blond man, her eyes shimmering in curiosity, as she walked past him into the house.
Randy saw the girl sniff the air and look around.
Oh!
He followed her line of sight to see two short boxes stacked on each other on a bar counter. She bound over to them, her tiredness seemingly forgotten. Cody you're amazing! Thank you so much!
Donuts? Lav's eyes twinkled longingly, and she looked up at Cody. Can I have one?
The blond man smiled at her, giving a flourishing motion toward the donuts. I did say she had to share.
Lav nervously approached the counter. Jamie had seated herself on a tall swiveling chair and bit into one. Randy felt a rush of joy as the red-haired girl--or, woman, apparently--handed the box carefully out so Lav could take one.
Thank you, Miss Jamie. He couldn't see his daughter's face, but could feel the same joy flash from her as she took a donut.
Jamie gave her a nod. Mm-hm! She then turned to Randy and Akoya, for the first time appearing at ease and genuinely friendly. Want some?
Akoya shook her head, and Randy held his hand up politely. No thank you. We're not too into sweet stuff.
Mm. Jamie placed the box back on the counter and took a second donut. More for us then.
So... Randy turned to Cody. Is... is this where we'll be staying? H-how much do you even know?
I know that you're here to see someone named Nicodemus, who's the mate of the Mew Jovie. And if you want to, then you're very welcome to stay here! I'm sure Jamie's brother and sister-in-law would gladly let you stay with them too, but I like having guests. He gave them a warm grin. Adds some spice to life, you know?
Could we see our room, then? We have a lot to discuss.
Cody began to move further into the house. Of course! Right this way!
Wait.
They all turned to Jamie as she hopped off the seat. She steadily met the eyes of the Lindens, alternating between the three, her icy gaze glimmering seriously.
(Cody needs to know about the Mews)
Randy felt his blood chill, and could feel sparks of fury flickering off of his wife. He glanced at Cody, trying to gauge his reaction.
(Don't worry, he can't understand me.)
(But he should know. He's far, FAR less likely to hurt them than I am.) Akoya's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Jamie looked at her as she went on. (That's not to say I would. Whoever those Mews are to you guys... I guarantee they'll be well protected and welcome here.)
For the first time, Pari spoke from her perch on Cody's shoulder.
(He'll be so happy to see them, I promise!)
It wasn't hard for the Lindens to make up their minds.
The energy they got from Cody was vastly different from Jamie's--Randy had to admit, it was far more welcoming.
Even besides that...
He literally had a Mew vouching for him.
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~~~~~~
PREVIOUS NEXT (Not yet)
Bit of a shorty this time. Unfortunately gotta wait 'til next one for Mew Reveal 2: Electric Boogaloo. (I need room for it, hehehe~)
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boxofbonesfic · 11 months
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Title: E-Vite 4/20 [A New Hire interlude]
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Alpha!Mob!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader
Word Count: 4,382
Summary: Ari’s mate finds herself invited to a brunch featuring more than just bottomless mimosas. 
Warnings: 18+ Only, Drugs, Recreational Drug Use,  Mob AU, Age Gap, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Darkfic, Breeding, Smut, MINORS DNI, Dead dove: Do not eat
A/N: i’m so sorry this is so late! but (i hope) it’s worth it! takes place roughly a week or so before reader and Ari leave for Paris. a little character development i think you’ll all enjoy. divider by @firefly-graphics​. dedicated to @cocobutterqwueen​, who prompted this work ❤️
This work is entirely unbeta’d, and unedited. Though I don’t own any of Marvel’s characters, this work and the plot contained inside are entirely mine. I do not consent for this work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Enjoy 😘
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You purse your lips, your brows drawing together critically as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You heave a dissatisfied sigh, brushing imaginary dirt from the hem of your white tennis skirt. 
 “Too much?” You mutter, rocking back and forth on the heels of your matching ivory sneakers. “It’s too much, isn’t it?” The silver charms on your bracelet jingle softly as you begin wiggling out of your skirt, trying to undo the hook-eye closure on the back. You aren’t expecting to see your mate there, leaned in the doorway of the walk-in closet with an amused smile playing at the edges of his full lips. 
 “Third outfit in fifteen minutes, Sweetheart. You nervous?” There’s a teasing note in his voice that makes you pout, shaking your head even though it’s obvious he’s right.  
“No, I’m not nervous.” You continue fiddling with the zipper until Ari closes his hands around yours. It’s silly, to be this anxious about meeting a bunch of people you’ve already been talking to for weeks, but you are. Joining Moms of Riverside County had been a whim. At most, you had expected to find new dinner recipes, maybe a few fun things to do with Liam. Instead, you’d found… a community? 
 Some of the members were a little out there, but there were far more good apples than bad. People posted pictures, shared memes— not pronounced “may-mays” as Ari had pointed out, to your embarrassment. There was even a group-chat, which you had recently been invited to—✨🔥 Cool Moms of Riverside County🔥✨, which had given you a good laugh. You weren’t particularly active yet, but even so you had been tagged and invited to a private brunch being hosted by one of the members you actually talked to with some regularity. 
  Come if you can! We’d love to see you! Sabrina’s casual message outside of the group chat had left you scrambling to respond last night, typing out at least thirty messages and showing them to Ari before deciding on one. 
  Okay! Thanks for inviting me, I wold love to come!
 “I-it’s just a facebook group thing.” You mumble, and he chuckles, kissing your forehead. 
 “It’s okay to be a little nervous about meeting your internet friends for the first time.” He must feel it in the bond, the electric apprehension running through every one of your limbs and down to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Just be yourself, Sweetheart. Trust me, they’ll love you.” He turns to exit the closet, but pokes his head back in. “And I like the skirt.” 
 An hour later, you’re in the Jeep on your way across town, Sabrina’s address punched into your phone’s GPS. You’re trying to think of potential conversation topics in your head, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel. You’d already checked the list of people in attendance—only ten, including you. 
  Exclusive.
 Sabrina’s house is half an hour outside of the city, nestled in the rolling hills off the highway. The private drive is blocked off by a wrought iron gate that you have to pull up to an intercom to get open. You lean out of the window, jabbing your thumb into the button. 
  “Yes? Who is it? Shh, Adrian!”
 You lick your lips nervously. “Um, it’s uh, it’s—”
  “Oh wait, I know who you are! I can see you on the camera. Come on in, girl!” The intercom buzzes loudly and the fence slides smoothly out of the way. It takes a full three minutes to get from the gate to the house, and when you pull up, there’s a line of expensive looking cars parked along the side. You take up the rear, taking a deep breath before hopping out. Gravel crunches under your feet, and as you’re heading up the stairs the front door opens. 
 “OhmyGod Hi!” You recognize Adrian from his pictures, his long dark hair piled up in a bun on top of his head. “How are you? Come in, come in,” he motions you forward with a wide smile. In one hand is a half full glass of wine, and he hugs you with the other. Underneath his rather fruity cologne is a distinctly Alpha scent, and when you pull away, you spot half a ring of teeth marks on the skin beneath his collar. 
 “Good, thanks,” you sputter, stepping over the threshold. It’s a monster of a house, the ceiling looming far above you. The air is heavy with the scent of warm sugar and brown butter, like someone’s baking. You cast a look around the foyer, there are pictures of Sabrina with her children, her husband—who just so happens to be the headmaster of Liam’s school. You toe off your shoes in the entryway, and Adrian scoffs. 
 “Oh, you don’t need to do that. Sabrina doesn’t give a shit about mud on her carpets,” he laughs. 
 “Habit, I guess,” you say, your own nervous laughter ringing awkwardly in the air with his. “I, um, have-have you been in the group long?” The questions you practiced in the car tangle confusedly together on your tongue. 
 “Like three years, I think?” He waves his hand as he shrugs. “But it got a lot more fun when Sab starting modding. Way more jokes.” He fixes you with a sly smile.  “Let’s go  get you a drink!” You tail Adrian through the house, and the sound of voices gets louder and louder as you go. The long hallway opens up into a massive kitchen, and a gaggle of people surround the marble island in the center of it, only a few of whom you recognize. 
 “Ladies,” Adrian claps his palm against his khaki-clad thigh, holding his wine glass aloft as he raises his voice to get their attention. “And gentle man,” he giggles, placing his palm against his chest, “Our last guest has arrived.” You duck your head in embarrassment as a little cheer ripples through the rest of the attendees.
 “Sorry I’m late, I think the e-vite said 4:20—”
 “Girl please.” You recognize Keisha’s fiery orange locs from her profile picture. “I just got here ten minutes ago. Sabrina! Girl where are you? You know I don’t know where you keep the glasses in this maze.” By your count, there are about seven people here, eight, including you. “Are you sure she’s the last one, Adrian? I thought Barb and Hannah were coming, too?”
 “Kayla’s got chicken pox, they cancelled this morning,” Adrian replies. “They’re fine, though, said she’s holding up well. Marathonning every episode of Bluey, apparently.” As the two of you join everyone else at the counter, Sabrina appears in the opposite doorway. 
 “Sorry, I went to get a lighter. Glasses are above the sink—hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” Sabrina is tiny, strawberry blonde curls piled on top of her head and secured with the biggest, pinkest bow you’ve ever seen. She reminds you of a Malibu Barbie—mansion and all. Sabrina rushes over to you, quickly depositing the tray of what looks like cigarette papers and lighters on the counter before hugging you tightly. 
 “Thanks for coming!” Sabrina looks genuinely happy to see you. They make room for you around the island. “I just moved here like a year and a half ago and it is so hard to make friends.”
 You let out a relieved breath. “I know exactly what you mean.” You had been nervous about coming, about whether or not you were actually going to fit-in . It feels like there are huge holes where general knowledge should be about how to act, what to say. All the culturally relevant gossip you know hit it’s expiration date a decade ago—but surprisingly, you don’t feel as terrified of that as you had been before arriving. 
 The conversation flows easily, and you finish your first glass of wine with a comfortable, warm buzz. Adrian makes it his business to serve the cooled cookies, and when you take two, he laughs. 
 “Okay, girl, I see you!” You blush as you bite down, gooey chocolate coating your tongue. 
 “I didn’t eat before I came,” you admit, polishing off the first cookie and starting on the second. “These are so good,” you add, and Sabrina preens. 
 “Thank you! I baked them myself.” Sabrina ducks down beneath the island countertop, and you hear the sound of a drawer rolling open, and then shut again. “I will admit I found the recipe online, though.” As she stands, she tosses a plastic bag of—
  Oh my God.
  Your eyes widen as the baggie of weed lands on the table, and they dart worriedly to the faces of everyone else there. No one seems surprised or upset, in fact, Keisha claps excitedly. 
 “Good,” she chirps, plucking a single paper from one of the packs on the silver tray. “I’ll roll.” 
 You shift nervously on your feet, unsure of what to do. You’ve never smoked before—the most you’ve ever done is drink alcohol, and even that you don’t do with any regularity. Ari’s beers in the fridge at home remain mostly untouched by you, and the occasional glass of wine is the extent of what you generally allow yourself. Not that you mind, really—
 You tap jittery fingers against the granite, and Adrian clucks his tongue at you. 
 “What’s wrong, babes?” His eyebrows crease with concern. “Not a joint person?” 
 “N-no?” You force yourself to calm down—these are all adults, and it’s not like it’s… illegal here, per-say. “I um, I haven’t actually ever… smoked. Marijuana.” 
 “You haven’t?” Sabrina’s gaze moves worriedly from your face to the half-eaten tray of cookies and back again. “Are you… kidding?”
 You sigh, dragging an embarrassed hand down your face. “No. Ugh, my… my parents were um. Really strict. Sorry. I’m not a narc or anything, I just, um, never really—” Sabrina grabs your hand with a soft smile and the rambling word vomit screeches to a halt. 
 “You don’t have to explain yourself at all. I just, well, I kind of thought you knew, to be honest.”
 “Knew?”
 “Yeah, it’s said 4/20 brunch, on 4/20,” she looks at you with a leading expression, but whatever reference she’s trying to make flies entirely over your head. You raise an eyebrow. 
 “That wasn’t… the time?”
 “420 means weed girl!” Adrian yelps, doubling over with raucous laughter. He rests a hand on his hip as he gasps for air. “This was a weed brunch!” You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning. “Oh my God the cookies! You ate two of them!” Cold realization crosses your face as you turn to face them in horror. 
 “There was weed in the cookies!?”
 —
 Ari is waiting for you in the kitchen when you call—he’d been expecting you home half an hour ago, and though he wasn’t worried, he was beginning to get antsy. The bond is open—wide open, in fact—and your hazy amusement permeate it like smoke. 
 “Hi, Sweetheart. You okay?” He asks, and you giggle. 
  “ I’m good. I’m so-oo-oo good, ” you sing, drawing out the syllables. There’s a loud splash, and Ari raises an eyebrow as you gasp loudly through the receiver. 
  “Don’t drop your phone!”
 “I’m not gonna dro-op it,” you hiccough, and Ari can practically hear your pout. “She said I was going to drop my phone, but I’m not going to drop it—”
 “Kitten. What is—”
 “Can you come get me?” You say, cutting him off in a dreamy, small voice. “I don’t think I should drive. The floor is moving.” Ari pulls away from the phone, staring at it with confused, narrowed eyes.
 “The floor is… moving.” He repeats your babble, just to make sure he’s hearing it right. You heave a relieved sigh, as if he’s validated some previously held suspicion. 
 “Yes. And I really don’t think I should drive. I’m all wet.” 
 “Okay baby. Can you send me your friend’s address? I’m going to call Martine over in case Liam wakes up, and then I will come and get you.” 
 “Okay.” You hang up with no warning, leaving your confused and exasperated mate staring at his phone. It takes several minutes—and quite a few nonsensical strings of emojis—before the address comes through. 
  She’s drunk, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. A little wry smile plays at the edges of his mouth as he buckles himself into the Bentley. She has to be. He’s not upset as he turns out of the driveway, skirting generously around Martine’s car. He’s glad you’ve made friends—the tight fist your father had kept around your life has left a lasting impression, one Ari is eager to erase. 
 The traffic choking the highway eases as he circles around the city, the exit dumping him out into the rolling foothills on its outskirts. The address you’d sent him is one that takes him into familiar territory, and when he pulls up to the gate, it buzzes open before he has a chance to push the button on the intercom.
 Ari exits the vehicle, taking stock of each car lined up in the driveway—including yours. He pauses at the front steps, listening, before making his way around back instead. The sounds of music and laughter grow louder as he rounds the side of the house. Your scent is here too, cut with others and diluted by the smell of chlorine and charcoal smoke. The yard opens up before him, carefully manicured green surrounding the deeply set in-ground pool. 
 “I don’t remember inviting the mob.” An amused voice makes Ari turn, before he scoffs. 
 “You wouldn’t have to, Sabrina, you married it.” He replies, shaking his head before reaching down for a hug. “It’s been a while.” Sabrina tokes long and hard on the joint in her hand before she laughs. 
 “You’re telling me. What are you doing here?”
 “My mate is here.” Ari peers over Sabrina’s blonde head, squinting at the pool. “The one on the pizza floaty.” 
 You’re sprawled on the double-wide rubber float, chatting animatedly to a man sitting on the pool steps up to his waist. Sabrina claps her hands, loud, animated laughter escaping her grinning mouth. 
  “That’s your mate? Oh my God. I think—I think I’m gonna pee.” She doubles over, while Ari frowns down at her. “Sorry. Sorry. I just—Odd couple. In my defense, she is the sweetest person on earth, and you’re… you.” Ari purses his lips.
 “Yes, well, you’re related to me,” he says dryly. “I still don’t think you’ve forgiven me for putting worms in your hair.” 
 “I haven’t. It was disgusting.”
 “I was eight.” 
 Sabrina ignores him, flicking a honey-blonde lock over her shoulder before making her way over to the pool. She wades in, waving to get your attention. You look utterly relaxed, your limbs draped loosely across the floaty. Your fingers and toes trail in the water as a you drift. You sit up as Sabrina approaches, and for a moment, your wild hair is framed perfectly in the light of the setting sun.
  Little lioness.
 The words she speaks to you are snatched away by the wind as Ari approaches, squatting by the edge of the pool. You’re wearing a swimsuit you no doubt borrowed from Sabrina, a bikini he suspects is at least one size too small. Sliding off the edge of the pizza-shaped float, you wade over to him, a dopey smile on your face. 
 “Ari!” 
 “Hi, Kitten.” He leans down when you reach wet hands up to hug him. Ari doesn’t mind, drawing his fingers affectionately over your bare shoulders and back as he presses his face to the side of your throat. He can’t help but check. Underneath the heavy scent of the chlorine—and a light coating of weed-smoke—is your true scent. Just yours, like he’d known it would be. He kisses your forehead. You giggle. 
 “I did what you said,” you whisper loudly. “It worked! I just said, um, that I never smoked, but then I ate the cookie—two cookies, I think. Maybe more?” The story devolves into meaningless ramble that leaves Ari laughing. 
 “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Kitten.” 
 “So this is the mate.” A lanky Alpha with a joint in a rather fancy looking cigarette holder appraises Ari, his other hand resting on his hip. He offers it to shake. “Adrian. The pleasure is yours.” Ari shakes it. “We did try to keep her out of the pool but she made some very convincing arguments.” 
 “I see,” Ari replies, chuckling as you give a stout nod from the pool. “She does have a habit of getting her way.” The resulting pout that forms on your full lips is worth the half-truth. You make your way toward the pool ladder, slipping once before finding your footing. You’re sopping wet, water running in rivulets down your soft skin. Up close, the swimsuit you’re wearing is even smaller, the fabric straining to hold back the supple flesh of your breasts. 
 Ari clears his throat, and Adrian snickers. He shoots the other male an irritated look, but Adrian only grins. 
 “I packed you a to-go bag, chica. It’s in your purse. You crazy kids have a good night.” He winks, and you wave absently.
 “You too, Adrian!” You turn back to Ari. “He’s nice, right?”
 “Yeah,” he replies, dragging his eyes up from the curve of your hip where the tie is sinking sinfully into the soft skin there. “Nice. Where did you get this?” He fingers the spaghetti thin strap at your shoulder. Sabrina sidles up next to you with a knowing grin, looping her arm around your shoulders. 
 “Well, I couldn’t let her just jump in, Ari.” He levels an annoyed glare at her. “What kind of cousin would I be if I let your mate ruin her nice clothes?” You gasp exaggeratedly. 
  “Cousin?”
 “First or second, or something like that,” Ari grumbles. She laughs.
 “Remind me to tell you the worm story,” she replies conspiratorially, clapping you on the back. “You go get your clothes.” 
 “I’ll be right back,” You press a kiss to Ari’s cheek. He can’t help but watch you walk away, the damp fabric wedging itself neatly between the cheeks of your ass. God-fucking-dammit. 
 “It reeks out here,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You’d better not be turning my mate into a pothead. I don’t want to have to get into weed distribution, you know how messy that is.” Sabrina waves a hand dismissively. 
 “Nonsense. Thad’s got a great thing going on with Rogers and Barnes on the east coast. He can cut you in if you want.” She winks. “I like her, you know. Genuinely had no idea she was, um. Yours.” Ari smiles, in spite of himself. 
 “It’s hard not to love her.” 
 Ari opts to wait out front, and he isn’t out there long before you stumble out clutching your purse. Your shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from your skirt, exposing the swimsuit you’re still wearing underneath. You look up at him apologetically through your lashes.
 “Thank you for coming, Ari, I’m sorry—”
 “Don’t be, Kitten,” he chuckles, helping you down the steps toward the car. “I’m glad you had a good time.” 
 You loose a high pitched giggle. “I had so-oo much fun. S-Sabrina’s so nice! She said she wants to hang out more. And—” You gasp, turning to him with a suspicious glare. “She said you put worms in her hair.” Ari laughs, shaking his head as he opens the passenger side door. “How could you do that?”
 “I’ll bet she didn’t tell you she dumped cat litter on my head the week before,” he replies, shutting the door before you can respond. He can see that you’re talking anyway, chirping brightly to yourself as Ari rounds the front of the car. He’s not quite sure why, but the sight of it makes his heart swell, even as he shakes his head. 
 “—gross!” You finish, looking at him definitively. 
 Ari slides into the drivers seat, nodding. “It was.” 
 “Will we come back for the Jeep?” You ask in a small, guilty voice. “I like the Jeep.” Ari nods, chuckling.
 “I promise.” The stoned, dopey smile you shoot him in response makes Ari wonder just how many “cookies” you’d eaten. You slump lazily in the passenger seat, stretching like a cat as he pulls out of the driveway. You sit there, blissfully unaware of the way that fucking bikini is eating away at his nerves. You drag a hand across your bare midsection, absently playing with the loose bikini strings.
 Of course you can’t see the way the edges of your dark, puffy nipples spill just over the edges of the triangular scraps of fabric. Sabrina’s attempt to help you maintain your modesty has done exactly the opposite, leaving you so indecently exposed that Ari finds himself wondering how the soft, plump lips of your cunt even fit in the bottoms. 
  God-fucking-dammit.
 Ari knows he should be focusing on the sparsely populated road, on the hour long drive it will take to get you home— not on the way he can see the pebbled outline of your perfect fucking nipples through that flimsy excuse for a bathing suit. Ari dares to glance in your direction again and groans quietly. You’re running your hands along your bare thighs, giggling and gasping at the sensation of your palms on your own skin. 
 “Ari, I didn’t know I was this soft,” you mumble, your eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Did you know that?” 
 He scrubs a hand down his face. 
 “Jesus, Kitten, you trying to kill me tonight?” He moans, dropping his head back against the seat. You lean over the middle console, an apology already on your trembling lips. 
 “I’m sorry.” It’s like you’re completely unaware of it, the thrall you have him in as you rest a warm little hand on his thigh. “How can I make it better?” 
  Martine’s fine at the house with Liam, right?
 —
  “Oh-oh God!” Your face is hidden, pressed against the hood of the car. Ari has your trembling legs spread as far apart as he can manage, his cock disappearing between the cheeks of your ass. “F-feels— oh— ” You’re even less articulate than usual, your sopping, needy cunt squeezing down around him like a vise. 
 Ari’s got your little white skirt rucked up around your waist, and the offending bikini pulled to the side so he can watch you take him. Seeing your pussy stretched open wide and straining around the veiny length of his cock is almost as good as feeling it. Ari doesn’t resist the urge to crack the palm of one hand against the cheek of your ass. You squeal, and God the way you fucking clench down is almost enough to make him bust right there—
 “Ari!” His name sounds like a desperate prayer on your lips. You’re practically writhing underneath him, your hands forming little fists on the hood of the Bentley. “G-God, feels—” He loves you like this, the words all gibberish on your loose tongue. “Fuck!”
 He especially likes it now that you’re high, hoarse curses falling from your lips as you raise yourself up onto your tip toes trying to meet his thrusts. It’s like some of your carefully crafted filter has come apart, allowing through the Kitten that isn’t afraid of judgment or reprisal. 
 “M’so full,” you whine pathetically, peering over your shoulder at him pleadingly. “More?” He isn’t expecting your breathy, perfect little plea, and the softly uttered request seems to go straight to his cock, and it throbs hard inside you. Ari groans, his head lolling back on his shoulders as he stares unseeingly at the night sky. “More, please.”
 The knot at the base of his cock is already starting to swell, and Ari clenches his teeth. Bracing one hand between your shoulders as he anchors the other to your hip. 
 “More, Kitten?” He asks, chuckling darkly. “Greedy girl. Can you even take more?” Ari draws back until the head of his cock pops out, and he slaps it wetly against your cunt. Slowly, he presses himself into the fucked-swollen mess of your pussy. He doesn’t stop when you begin straining against his knot, murmuring dark words of encouragement. 
 “You asked for this,” he reminds you, grinning when your forehead hits the hood with a thunk, and you let out a muffled cry. Ari joins you, a harsh growl tearing from his throat as his knot pops inside. “That enough, Kitten?” He asks through clenched teeth. “Your hungry fucking pussy finally full, Sweetheart?” 
 You push back against him, a lewd squelch filling both your ears. That’s enough of an answer for Ari. He growls, clamping down on the back of your neck with one hand as his fingers sink deep into the meat of your hip. His thrusts are shorter now, but fuller , and each one leaves you mewling and crying.   His whole world is condensing down to a single point. You’re all that matters, you, this moment, his cock buried in your slick, sweet core—
 “Oh f-fuck, God, Ari, c-cumming—” The nonsense that you manage to string together only barely precedes the way your cunt clamps deliciously around him like a hot wet fist. The pleasurable buzzing in the back of Ari’s skull becomes unbearable, traveling down his spine and shooting like electricity to the base of his cock. 
 Ari groans, bending over your back to sink his teeth into your shoulder, holding you still while he cums. He still doesn’t know how to explain how right it feels to press inside you and let go—like he’s supposed to. Fuck and the feel of you—Ari groans as you shift, your velvet walls shifting against his still hard cock. He leans back, releasing you so that he can stare appreciatively at your cunt.  Lips bulged out from the heavy girth of his knot, a mixture of both your fluids leaking out around it. 
 You peek over your shoulder at him, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Your eyebrows are creased together, your glassy eyes shining with real worry. 
 “Ari?”
 “What’s the matter, Kitten?”
 “I think I left my phone.” 
  end
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leclercss · 1 month
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Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc), Part 2
Masterlist
plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating, violence and some swearing
authors note: part deux, enjoy. sorry this took so much longer than anticipated to write. also, excuse the darker tone to this chapter, it'll get lighter from here xx
word count: 5.2k
taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar, @tremendousandsonorouswords, @cmleitora, @victoriaholland, @amalialeclerc, @queensofshinigamis, @tempo-rary-fix, @starmanv, @happylittlereader, @trouble-sistar, @lightdragonrayne, @persephonemv1, @dreamingofautopia
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If you couldn't read Charles' expression before, you most certainly couldn't now. For the first time this evening, it was Charles who was stumbling over his words.
"Wha... Wait... what?" was all he could muster up.
There weren't many times when you had been with Charles where he struggled to find his words. Even if he was angry, like the last time you saw him all those years ago, he still managed to say something. But tonight, he couldn't. He was speechless.
To relieve him from his pain, you repeated what you had said a few moments before. You too were struggling to string a few words together.
"Charles, I never went to New York".
Even by repeating yourself, Charles still couldn't find the words and it looks like the wheels inside of his head are trying to turn and make some sort of sense but everything is just breaking down and failing to work cohesively. And so, rather than having to respond, he looks out of the window of the taxi, taking in the Parisian sunset. His hand is no longer on your thigh but is now clawing at his facial hair.
The rest of the taxi ride is quiet, aside from the taxi driver's radio playing lowly in the background. But at one point you think you hear Charles whisper to himself, "Je ne comprends pas".
I don't understand.
The sound of Charles' keys rattling breaks the silence between you and Charles as he leads you upstairs to his apartment. He still hasn't said anything since the taxi, aside from thanking the driver. You haven't made much of an effort yourself to fill the silence because in all honesty, you're not really sure what to say or what Charles' reaction would be to whatever you did have to say. He was clearly stunned at your revelation that you in fact never went to New York and you were stunned yourself - by his question, his reaction, hell, this entire date. None of this made sense.
In the space of an hour, you went from being clueless about your blind date, to finding out that out of the +3 billion men in the world you just happened to be set up with your ex and to now, with Charles asking you to come to his apartment. Your mind was working overtime to catch up. Those two Aperol Spritz' were clearly not enough to numb whatever your brain was trying to process right now. You clearly needed something stronger.
You tried not to laugh but you couldn't help think about the fact that as much as Pierre poked fun at you for your messy love life, even this situation that you now found yourself in would even be too much for him to process.
The two of you quietly make your way into Charles’ apartment before staggering off. He muttered something about getting you a drink and so you take the opportunity to take in his apartment. Your heels are the only thing that is making a sound as you slowly walk around his living room. It’s a lot more sophisticated than his apartment in London that he shared with Joris and Riccardo. Gone are the Ferrari prints and in their place are pictures of modern art, strategically framed across the walls. It feels too classy to be a bachelor pad, if that was what Charles used it as. Your mind briefly lingers back to Pierre's comment about Charles needing to fuck a lot of girls to get over you.
With Charles still in the kitchen, you slowly make your way over to the large bay window and admire the Parisian streets outside as the sun slowly begins to set across the city. You let out a little sigh. It feels like no matter where you call home these days, chaos seems to follow you. Well, everywhere apart from Singapore, life felt so easy there. No expectation, the only pressure being your job. Was it too late to go back?
Your attention is finally pulled back to reality as Charles hands you a glass of white wine.
“Thank you,” you say, taking the glass from his hand. You can’t miss that his own glass of wine is practically shorty. Charles’ notices this and dryly chuckles.
“I drank it on the way, let me get some more”.
He’s flustered, his cheeks turning slightly pink out of embarrassment. He doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he turns away and heads back to the kitchen. You can’t help but find it a little funny how you’re now the composed one, especially in comparison to Charles’ entrance during your date.
As Charles re-enters the living room, you take a seat on the edge of his sofa, you’re not too comfortable yet for you to treat it like a welcomed or returning guest. Charles follows suit, taking a seat on the arm chair across from you.
It’s still quiet between you both, neither of you know how to start this conversation. Whatever game plan Charles had previously has now gone straight out of the window while you never had an opportunity to even create a game plan, you were just thrown into the deep end without any arm bands.
You watch as Charles’ slowly runs his index finger along the rim of his wine glass while he stares at his own movements. Deciding to break the silence, because any conversation is better than this, you begin with some small talk to ease yourself into the conversation.
“Your apartment looks great,” you say politely as you look around the room once more.
“Thanks,” Charles mutters, his eyes still fixated on his wine glass.
“Did you decorate it yourself?”
Charles shakes his head.
You let out a little laugh. “Interior design was never your strong suit,” you joke, hoping to lighten the mood but it doesn’t anything but.
“A friend did it,” his words almost come out like a grunt.
Silence falls onto the room once more.
Something chaotic begins to brew inside of you. You know you’ve got nothing to lose, and out a stupid sense of curiosity, you carelessly throw out your next question, “Was it a girl that did it for you?”
Charles instantly tenses up at your question and you know you're playing with fire. You notice his jaw twitch in irritation. His shoulders now hunching forward and his hand is how clenched around his wine glass. And by the tension in his fingers, you’re amazed that it hasn’t cracked from the pressure.
He’s debating whether to say something or not. And he does, but not before taking a large gulp of his wine.
“Why don’t we just skip the small talk and get straight to fucking shall we?”
And as he says it, he’s finally looking into your eyes. The pendulum swings once more and it's your turn to be nervous again.
“Excuse me?”
He lets out a little chuckle but from the expression in his eyes he’s not joking around.
“Listen, [Y/N], I didn’t invite you back to my apartment so we could exchange interior design tips. So, let’s just skip to what we’re good at which is sex,” he continues with a condescending tone. “We can either do it on my sofa if you like, or by the big window so you can take in the Parisian skyline as I fuck you from behind. But my bed also works, your choice”.
You can’t help but scoff, “And that works for all the other girls you’ve taken here, right?”
You want to slap the smirk that Charles’ is giving you right off his face.
“No,” he responds sarcastically. “I let them finish their glass of wine, or two, maybe even play them a song on my piano before I ask them to take their clothes off”.
Oh, so I'm not even worthy of even getting through my wine? you think to yourself.
It's your turn to laugh but you know it’s hiding what you really feel. You’re confused but most importantly, you’re disappointed in the way that Charles is speaking to you. He had never spoken to you like this before.
“And what makes you think I’d want to fuck you anyway?” you retort, hoping that you sound assure in what you're saying, but you're not, your voice trembles. And Charles doesn't miss it.
And my God, he looks so arrogant as he looks you up and down. He’s so obvious with his gaze as his eyes become fixated on your boobs before making their way down to your thighs, which are now more exposed than before thanks to your dress riding up from sitting on the sofa.
“You’re wearing that dress aren’t you?” the smugness practically oozes from his tongue.
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Well, if I’d of known that you were going to be my date then I definitely wouldn’t have wasted this dress on you”.
Charles throws his head back as his smile grows even bigger.
“It's such a shame that you’ve lost your sense of humour since I last saw you, amour”.
You scoff once more. His use of amour is no longer a term of endearment but a way to mock you. But you can't let him know that he's winning, so you somewhat fight back, "At least I’ve managed to grow up in the last three years. Unlike some”.
“And yet you’re still here”.
Your eyes meet his and you gulp. His piercing green eyes are glistening as he enjoys seeing you squirm. He’s been waiting for so long to see you again and he’s not going to let you forget how you made him feel. And he doesn’t care that he’s coming across as a dick when he’s doing so. You broke his heart, and he’s willing to be petty about it.
Despite your disgust in how he’s speaking to you since you arrived to his apartment, you know he’s right. Why are you still here? What sort of resolution are you going to get from this? And you remember how naive you were earlier to think that Charles had moved on when he was being nice to you. Oh how wrong you were.
“Well, now that we’ve established that you’re staying-“
“Who said I was staying?” you growl.
“Well, as I said before, you’re wearing that dress and I think it’s pretty obvious that you planned on getting fucked tonight, so I’m happy to cut to get to it,” Charles continues nonchalantly, “Pierre, as well intentioned as he is, did drop the bomb that you’ve been having a bit of a dry patch when it comes to your love life so I can’t blame you for getting your hopes up”.
You’re growing more irritated by his sarcasm and attitude by the second. Your jaw can’t help but twitch as he drops the truth bomb on your pathetic love life. And so you retaliate, unknowingly falling right into his trap.
“And Pierre was ever-so-kind to let me know that you’ve been so miserable and bitter that you’ve had to fuck anyone with a pulse to get over me”.
You see a flash of anger fall onto Charles’ face but it’s gone as quick as it came. You wouldn't be sure it even happened if he didn't respond the way he does next.
“Better than whatever pathetic shit it is you’ve been doing,” Charles responds. "Random hook ups, pathetic tinder conversations. Are you scared of commitment or something?"
You say nothing but you're breathing heavily. You're the one who is now gripping onto their wine glass for dear life, holding onto whatever composure you have left.
"There was one thing that Pierre didn't tell me though. How did you and Lewis end things, amour?"
What a little...
Who the fuck does he think he is?
This conversation has taken a dark turn and it’s enough for you to want to get out of here. Something you should have done before. You slam your wine glass onto the coffee table, before standing up to make your way towards the front door.
You hear Charles get out of his seat, closely following behind before he grabs onto your arm.
“What’s wrong, amour?” his voice is sickeningly sweet as he taunts you once more, pulling you back towards him.
“I’m not going to sit here and let you talk to me like this,” you spit. But your voice cracks as you can feel ears form in your eyes. This whole evening has been humiliating and now Charles is hanging your desperate love life in front of you, like it's a toy that can be poked and prodded at for entertainment.
And if you thought that by leaving that Charles would retreat, you were completely wrong.
“Sorry, baby, thought you were into men who treated you like shit”.
Slap!
You're not sure who's more surprised by the slap you've just given Charles, you've both been stunned into silence. The hand that he had on your arm immediately removes itself from you, now finding itself pressed against Charles' cheek. He winces at his own touch, the flesh that was met with your slap is beginning to sizzle.
One of your tears spills over as you make eye contact with Charles, your expressions matching one another. Horror. It takes you a few moments to realise what you've done. Unwilling and unable to accept the consequences of your actions, you decide to bolt for the exit. But as soon as you open the front door, it's been slammed shut. Panicking, you turn around to see that Charles has followed you, his hand is above your head holding the door closed.
You're not sure why you feel scared, but you press your back against the door. You're pressing into it so hard that you hope that it creates some sort of portal to take you somewhere far, far away from here. Anywhere but here.
But your dreams are cut short because Charles is standing in front of you, still holding the door closed while the other hand caresses his cheek, marked with your handprint.
"No, you don't get to just run away from me again," he barks as he hovers over you.
"What?" you ask in confusion.
"You've done it to me once before and I won't let you do it again," he replies. His breathing his heavy, chest rising and falling dramatically as he looks into your eyes. "You've left me once before without an explanation. You're not doing that to me this time".
His tone is much more gentle this time. The last few moments have made him feel vulnerable. His find flashes back to the last time he saw you and how he watched you walk out of his front door, never to be seen again until three years later. Despite his bitterness towards your break up, he wasn't going to make that mistake again. No, it was time for some answers. Ones he had been waiting for for three long years.
He removes the hand that's above your head on the door and places it back down by his side. "Can you just stay, please? I think you owe me that much".
You nod.
"Okay," your voice barely a whisper. "I'll stay but at least let me get a cold towel for your face".
It's Charles turn to nod.
He makes his way back to the sofa while he waits for you to return with a cold, damp cloth. When you return, his eyes never leave you as he watches you sit down beside him. He watches you as you gently places the damp cloth against his cheek. He hisses out your touch.
"I'm sorry," you whisper as you begin to dab his face gently, this time your touch hurts less.
Apart from your very brief apology, the two of you say nothing for a while. Charles' eyes are still on you as you take care of him. He gulps as you take your other hand and brush away a strand of hair that's fallen onto his cheek. His mind goes rushing back to all of the times that you touched him before. But now it's in such different circumstances and you both feel like strangers to one another now. He wants to touch you again, to see if it still feels the same. If your skin is still as soft as before. It always used to be so warm and silky, it felt like satin beneath his touch. But he's too scared to try, after all you did just slap him a not so long ago, because of shitty words that he said to you.
"Charles," you say before pausing. You look at him briefly as he nods, waiting for you to carry on. He's looking at you with such puppy dog eyes that you can't help but feel guilty as you see that he still has some redness on his cheek. But you carry on. "I'm sorry for hitting you. I... I shouldn't have done that".
Charles chuckles a little, "It's okay, amour".
"No, no, it's not okay. I shouldn't hit anyone," you protest, this time holding the cloth against his cheek.
Charles smiles at you, "Honestly, it's okay. I deserve it, I was being nasty."
You let out a little sigh.
"I really am sorry," you say as you look into his eyes.
"I know, amour".
It's all the two of you say for a few more minutes before you finally remove the cloth from Charles' cheek. The redness has calmed down, but he still feels a sting from your touch.
As you place the cloth on the table, you reach for your glass of wine, realising that it's been untouched. You take a sip before handing the glass to Charles. He smiles before taking it from your hand and taking a sip himself.
As your wait to find something to say, you begin to pull at the hem of your short dress. How do you carry on the conversation from here? The last time you tried to speak it went from being petty to nasty and to, in your case, being violent. But Charles' demeanor is different this time, he seems a lot calmer and he doesn't want to make your life a living hell any more. He watches you fiddling with the hem of your dress and pulling at a loose string. He places his hand on top of yours to stop you from pulling at the material any more.
"Hey, don't do that. Your dress is beautiful, I wouldn't want you to ruin it," his tone is so gentle. So much so that you tears begin to form in your eyes again. You can't even look at Charles as your eyes remain fixated on your lap. You hadn't realised your tears had spilled over until landed on the bottom of your dress, leaving the smallest of damp spots.
"Hey, hey, please don't cry," Charles whispers as he wipes your tear with his thumb. But by him telling you not to cry doesn't mean that you stop. If anything, feeling his hand on your face only makes it worse. "Please don't cry, [Y/N]".
Charles cups your face in his hands as he lifts it up so you're looking at him. "Charles," you begin but your breath catches in your throat. The evening is beginning to overwhelm you and you can't seem to be digesting anything that's happening in a reasonable way.
"Tell me, amour," Charles says as he wipes your tears once more.
Amour.
Fuck, even the way he's saying it now is so confusing. It's so gentle and so kind and you don't deserve any of this.
"Did you mean it earlier? When you said you only invited me back to have sex?"
Charles sighs as he shakes his head.
"No! No, I was being an asshole, okay," he tells you. "I didn't mean it."
You nod but you're not sure if you believe him. You wouldn't blame him if he fucked you and then left you because in Charles' eyes, that's what you did to him three years ago.
"Hey, hey, look at me," his voice is more commanding this time that you can't help but look at him. He hesitates for a moment, before he leans in to kiss your forehead. "I didn't mean it, amour. I was just angry, that's all".
You nod but you still feel overwhelmed with his touch and so you lean back on the sofa to give yourself a little bit of a break. Charles follows suit.
Silence falls on the room once more but this time, the two of you taking turns drinking the wine from your glass, hoping that the two of you find the courage to address the elephant in the room.
This time, it's Charles who breaks the silence.
"You... you said in the taxi that you never went to New York," he begins. The volume in his voice is much lower this time.
You nod slowly.
"What happened? Why did you change your mind?"
He nervously awaits your answer and he doesn't miss the little sigh that you let out.
"Charles, I... I was never going to New York. It was never the plan. Lewis kept asking but I always said no," you tell him.
Charles' scrunches his forehead at your confession.
"But you told me-"
"No, that day when I came to see you. I planned on telling you that everything was over between Lewis and I but I don't know what happened. I just couldn't get the words out, after everything that happened it should have been easy but it wasn't. Because I'd never been able to say out loud that my marriage was over. And when I told you that Lewis asked me to join him in New York, I didn't tell you because that's what was happening. I told you because I was scared and confused. You talked about moving in together and I panicked. For the first time in seven years he wasn't going to be in my life and I just didn't have time to process it," you tell him, "And so when you asked me if I was going, I just froze. I... I don't why I did. But by the time I got over my panic you thought that I had basically confirmed that I was going with Lewis but I never was. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did, hell, I would have had the same thoughts. But he was never an option any more, Charles, it was always you".
Charles stays silent as he lets all of your words sync in. He had been so wrong this whole time and he spent so many days and months hating you. Was he so wiling to believe that you were leaving him to stay with Lewis because he couldn't believe that it would finally be true? He'd always heard that the spouse never leaves their martial partner when it comes to having an affair. But you and Charles never had an affair. You had a relationship, and one that Lewis knew all about. So why had he gotten it all so wrong?
"When you told me to leave, I... I took the cowards way out. I don't blame you for not believing me. We were both tired and I gave up. I'm sorry that I gave up, Charles," you say. It's your turn to wipe the tear from Charles' cheeks.
"No, I pushed you away," he says quietly.
You shake your head. "No, you didn't. You did nothing wrong," you tell him.
The two of you take a few minutes to process your confession to Charles. The tears have now dried up for the both of you but the weight of the conversation rests heavy on your hearts.
"If you didn't go to New York, where did you go?" Charles asks.
You let out a little sigh. "I went for a job opportunity in Singapore. And I took it, so I moved about three months after things ended between us".
Charle lets out a light-hearted chuckle. "Singapore, that must have been nice," he says, "How did you manage in the heat?"
"I didn't," you laugh, "I basically lived a nocturnal lifestyle. But it was nice, I enjoyed my time there. I think I grew up a lot while I was there".
You pause for a moment, your smile falls a little as you carry on. "I do think about what would have happened if I'd stayed in London though..." Your sentence trails off as you begin to think about the what ifs.
"Well you know, London. Always busy and always expensive," Charles jokes. You smile at him softly.
"Kind of like Paris, right?" you say and he nods in response.
He takes a moment before asking his next question, "Do you regret going?"
Uncertainty takes over momentarily before you reply, "I don't know. I wish I kind of did things differently".
"Me too," Charles mutters.
Your eyes meet each others and this time it feels different. It feels like you're both longing for one another. You're not sure who initiated the first move as you both lean in for a gentle kiss which soon escalates as Charles pulls you onto his lap while you reach out to cup his face. The kiss deepens quickly as the two of your run your hands over any body part you can find on the other.
Charles' hands going from your hair on the back of your head to your waist. At some point, they end up on your ass which is now exposed due to the movements you've been making on his lap. Your hands too find themselves in his hair before making their way over his shoulders and down his clothed chest but you don't miss the tight muscles that sits below the thin material.
You hum as Charles' lips make their way to below your ear before making their way down your neck and finally to your chest.
"I wasn't joking when I mentioned this dress earlier," he says as he stares up at you, his eyes are full of hunger, "it was meant to taken off".
You can't help but squeal as he dramatically pulls your straps down to reveal your chest and it doesn't take long for him to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples. You moan as he begins to suck on the sensitive skin.
"Fuck," you let out as your hands grip onto his shoulders.
Tonight has been such a mind fuck that you feel dizzy at his touch. How the hell have you ended up in this situation where you've gone from slapping Charles for being an asshole to having him sucking on your tits. Maybe he was right and that you did like men that treated you like shit.
But that was baggage that you could unpack another day as you're suddenly brought back to your senses when you feel a flash of cold air on your vagina. You look down and see that Charles has pulled your panties to the side.
He looks up at you menacingly as his right hand makes its way down your body while the other holds your him in place. You can't help but yelp as his fingertips brush against your clit.
"Charles," you sigh in relief as he presses more pressure onto your sensitive bud.
"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't imagined this image over the last three years," Charles teases as he slides his fingers between your folds. "Mmmm," is all you can say.
"I still have those photos you know and some of the videos that we took," he continues as he left hand makes it's way back up to your breast, missing the feeling of full flesh beneath his fingers.
"Charles," you whisper once more as you grip onto his hair.
"All you have to do is tell me how you want," he says and you're falling into his touch when he suddenly pushes two of his fingers inside of you.
"Shit!"
Charles takes your profanity as a sign to continue but this only sends you into overdrive. No, it's that dizzy feeling again and you suddenly feel light-headed. His fingers are moving in and out of you but all you want to do is push yourself off his chest and you do.
"Stop," you cry as you lift yourself of Charles' body.
Charles is stunned at your sudden change and becomes flustered, trying to understand why you're no longer wanting him to touch you.
"Amour, what's wrong?"
You're panting as you recover from the sensation of Charles while you're also trying to gather your thoughts at the same time.
"I don't think this is a good idea," you eventually say. You don't miss the look of disappointment on Charles' face. "It's not that I don't want to, I just think that... that we've gone through so much tonight. We haven't really processed anything and I don't want us to regret this".
Charles nods. He'd do anything to have you right now but deep down he knows you're right. The events of tonight have been chaotic, petty and at times toxic. This was the first time the two of you had addressed what happened and even then it was only a short conversation. He's only just gotten you back into his life and despite what his mouth was running with earlier, Charles didn't want to lose you again.
"You're right, I'm sorry," he says softly.
"Please don't be sorry. We both wanted it but it's not the best thing right now," you say. You want to break the tension in the air by cracking a joke, "If you want, we can both tell Pierre that we fucked to mess with his head".
Your joke works as Charles releases some tension by laughing before letting out a "Fucking Pierre".
At some point, you end up resting your head against Charles' chest as the two of you enjoy the silence for the first time this evening and for the final time, Charles interrupts a quiet moment between you two.
"Can you stay tonight? I... Nothing has to happen, I'd just like you to stay," he says quietly. You look up at him and nod.
The two of you eventually make your way to the bedroom and slowly undress each other as you get ready for bed, with Charles lending you one of his football jerseys.
And while he sleeps ever so soundly, his chest gently rising and falling as he lets out slow breaths, you find yourself not being able to sleep at all.
As the sun begins to rise on an early summer's morning in Paris, you find a pen and paper in Charles' kitchen before leaving him a note on his pillow:
' I promise I'm not running away this time, I just think that we both deserve the chance for a clear head in the morning.
I'm so grateful that I got the chance to see you again.
Amour xxx '
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