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#the freedom that paper gives

dwuerch-blog · 2 months

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The Paper Shredder

Not long ago, in our community’s FB group, a neighbor sent out a plea for help. She needed a paper shredder to rid herself of all those old financial records, letters, and documents. She was done with the build-up of paper overload. In a matter of minutes, neighbors were quick to provide her with theirs. Truthfully, I need that paper shredder, too. But more than the paper shredder, I need to get…

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#1 Corinthians 13:5 #2 Corinthians 5:17 #blog #burn party #forgiveness #inner healing ministry #inspiration #life giving freedom #love keeps no records of wrongs #new creations #paper shredder #records of wrongs #words and actions #write offenses

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moonjxsung · 5 months

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Visions of You in Solitude

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

W/c: 26.5k

Warnings: erotic painting, mentions of masturbation, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), breast/nipple play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (fem receiving), cum eating, use of pet names, drinking

Synopsis: You were hired to paint him- not fall for him. But intentions quickly shift when Hyunjin finds himself infatuated with you and learns the secrets you harbor.

18+. Mdni!

•

There’s something to be said about the loneliness that comes with being an artist. The repetitive cycle of translating tangibility to canvas or paper in whichever chosen medium. Fleeting muses you draw inspiration from, which quickly become burdensome as you’re faced with them every waking second of your day. Obsession with perfecting your craft, the anxieties that come with criticism of your life’s work and sometimes even succumbing to changing it entirely at the hands of someone else’s advice.

It’s very seldom even your craft at a certain point, only existing to satisfy the visual demands of others and turn a profit when displayed at a show. And it’s certainly not for everyone, not when it’s this lonely and rooted in the discomfort of personal solitude.

From this proximity, the blinding white walls that span the perimeter of the waiting room feel like that of a prison’s- coupled with the glossy laminate flooring and glaring white lights, you feel completely entrapped.

“They’re almost ready for you,” your boss says abruptly as he enters the room and occupies the gray folding chair next to you. “You have everything you need?”

Headcount- your black leather briefcase of oil paints, brushes, charcoal, pencils, paint thinner, old rags and your painting palette.

“The canvas is already set up,” your boss chimes in as if he can read your mind. “And there’s a seat for you. Just relax, and don’t push yourself.”

You take a deep breath, doing your best to follow his advice- but a part of you wants to get up and leave, to run away from all of this. Painting is your passion, it’s your forte and it’s been your life’s work for as long as you can remember. But being commissioned like this, for men much richer than money you’ll ever see, it feels suffocating.

They don’t tell you their names these days, nor the name of whatever organization they’re from. Last month it was an elite group of stock investors, the month before, it was a famous violinist from Japan. And today, it’s a male group, eight members with net worths that look like telephone numbers, or so you’ve been told. And it’s not that you’re intimidated, but you do get self-conscious at the prospect of people watching you while you paint. At some point, it’s like you become the model, their eyes boring into your flesh as you paint long strokes across the canvas and order them to hold still.

“Five minutes,” your boss now says, checking the time on his silver watch and adjusting it so that it sits a little higher up on his wrist.

You wish he wouldn’t count the minutes. You wish he’d stay quiet, allow you to sit with your thoughts and ruminate the day ahead of you. And yet he taps his heel in syncopation with the second hand on the clock above you, the echoing click of both driving you up the wall.

“I need a breather,” you state suddenly, sitting up from your chair and smoothing down your smock. “I need to go outside.”

“Three minutes,” he responds sterly, tapping at the glass lens of his watch and motioning to the door.

You shove your way past the double doors, past the white tiled hallway and just in front of the double doors that lead to freedom again. Two minutes.

It’s like your body is giving out on you involuntarily, your knees buckling as you grip the stair railing and steady your breathing. A quick glance around to ensure no one’s caught you heaving so nervously- and you’re too late. A man saunters down the hallway past you, his hands shoved casually in his pockets as he cocks his head to stare at you, his long black hair falling loosely around his shoulders as he does. He’s tall, and slim, with an elongated torso hugged by an expensive denim coat, his slender legs on display in black slacks and complemented by a sharp pair of boots. You don’t catch a very good look at his face, his figure blurring by as you check your watch, to the second now- you’re supposed to be inside.

You waste no more time jogging down the hallway past the figure and back into the waiting room, where your boss is angrily tapping his heel and scanning the room for you.

“There you are,” he says frustratedly. “No more breaks if you can’t manage your time. They’re waiting for us.”

And with a deep breath, he helps you gather your art supplies, motioning in front of you to the brightly lit room. You take one breath, and then two, as you finally begin into the painting room, eight men already seated and ready for you.

The crowd is nothing like the stock investors, or the violinists you’re used to. They’re rowdy, and loud. They very seldom sit still, cracking jokes amongst themselves and shoving each other off the wooden stools every other minute. You do your best to keep your gaze away from them when you don’t need to look at them, trying to memorize their features in intervals so you can focus on just the canvas in front of you as you paint. But it’s nearly impossible, their melodic voices pressing you for answers and insights into your artist career.

“What’s the hardest painting you’ve ever done?” One asks, his baritone voice sounding almost startling in contrast to his bright appearance.

“There’s lots,” you reply quietly. “I’m not sure I can pick one.”

You give him a small smile, trying to memorize the freckles on his face before turning back to the canvas, hoping you won’t have to glance back over at him for the next minute or so.

“Let’s take five,” your boss says as he enters the room again, two iced coffees balanced in his hands. “Thanks, guys.”

And the men scatter to their break room, where neat trays of food are already set out for them to choose from. As the doors swing closed behind them, you watch them select from a variety of pre-cooked noodles, assorted fruits and vegetables, packs of chips and trays upon trays of desserts. They’re fed as though they’re the ones doing all the painting.

“Coffee,” Q says, setting down a plastic cup in front of you, the straw already conveniently placed for you.

“Thanks, Quinton.”

Your boss, Quinton, or Q, is a brutally honest man when he wants to be, quick to comment on your work and keep you in your place. He runs your calendar like the military, never missing an important appointment and opting you in for every profitable painting session possible. He’s another thing you find suffocating at the worst of times, always somewhere breathing commands down your neck and dragging you to every private event under the sun.

“Let me see,” Q states plainly, gesturing to the canvas with his cup of coffee. You shyly angle the canvas toward him, hoping he won’t scrutinize anything about your pacing- you’re trying to get out of here as quickly as possible, and you silently pray the art doesn’t reflect that sentiment.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t, swiping a few stray eraser shavings off the canvas and giving you a nod.

“Looks good. Remember, we just need the skin tones and facial features. The clothes and all that can be filled in later with our reference pictures.”

You nod in response, taking a generous sip of your coffee, realizing this is probably the worst beverage you could’ve picked to calm your nerves. The caffeine pulsates through you, making your heart flutter even more than it already is, and the bitter taste leaves little to salivate over.

“How much longer, do you think?” You inquire, chewing on the tip of your straw nervously.

“No more than an hour, if you keep up this pace,” Q responds. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick, have everything ready again for when I get back. Don’t make me wait.”

You watch as he gets up from his own wooden stool, placing his cup of coffee where he sits, and exits the room to the corridor once again.

You’re alone in the painting room, the white sheets that line the floors staring back at you with little eyes in the form of paint splotches. From behind the door, you can still hear the eight men shuffling about, laughing loudly and downing their snacks. And you want to leave again, the feeling instilling another sense of foreignness inside of you. Like you don’t belong here, even though you’re the painter. You feel small, cramped, even useless, as you stare down the painted flesh outlines across from you.

A click of the door closing beside you garners your attention, and you look up expecting Q to return and resume the session. But it’s not Q- it’s the same figure from earlier in the hallway, slowly making his way inside and hoisting himself back up on the wooden stool. He keeps his head down as he gets comfortable again, two hands running through his black hair and slicking it back out of his forehead.

And then he looks at you- or stares, rather, two hands resting on the exposed wood in front of him as his legs balance on the wooden beams below. You can feel his eyes burning into your figure, and you do everything in your power to avert his gaze and keep your eyes locked on the canvas in front of you. But he remains like that, staring, for several minutes, until you nervously tilt your head to catch his gaze.

You feel your heart race as you do, catching a glimpse of his flawless features as he furrows his brows in concentration. His silky black hair isn’t the only striking thing about him- he has piercing brown eyes, which narrow with such intensity as he remains seated there, unmoving and confident in his stance. His plump lips contrast beautifully against his chiseled jawline, and his lanky figure makes him look like the contemporary art statues you’re so acquainted with, like he’s formed from wire and positioned to slouch so artistically in his spot.

You say nothing to the man, opting to give him a little nod, before focusing back on the beverage in your hands. And despite his clear fascination with you, he doesn’t reciprocate, instead pulling a cell phone out of his back pocket and preoccupying himself again.

You can’t quite tell if he’s rude, or strange, or even just unaware that his presence is so uncomfortable when he’s choosing to speak through cold stares instead of words. As you watch him through your peripheral vision, you hear the familiar sound of Q’s boots click through the doorway, gesturing rapidly at you and at the canvas.

“Let’s continue,” he orders, clasping his hands together with such purpose. “Where are they?” Q then questions, his eyes darting over the quiet man’s indifferent posture. And the strange man finally gets up from his stool, making his way through the break room door to usher the others inside once again.

They follow like a row of ducks, back to their respective seats, some of them with drinks in hand as they share whispered laughter amongst themselves and make little effort to sit still. You have no trouble picking up right where you left off, the innate talent to mirror figures in front of you coming in handy as you race the clock to complete their flesh-colored outlines.

Most of them converse lightly amongst each other, holding your gaze with a more serious expression when they catch you looking over at them.

Except for the strange man.

He’s relentless in his ways, continuing to stare so impolitely at you, his eyes piercing daggers right through your soul as he cocks his head to the left, and then the right, studying your face as you study all eight of theirs. What his intentions are exactly, you have no clue, simply opting to avert his gaze when you can and keep busy with your painting.

One hour later, the canvas illustrates all eight outlines of flesh and distinctive features, highlighting the beige freckles on one man’s, the toned biceps of another, and all other features that set them apart from each other. True to Q’s reminder, their clothes are traced in outlines, but color is void of their stencils, as you still have to bring the canvas home to complete the finishing touches. When they’re dismissed for the day, the gentlemen are all led by a sculpted man with a big smile who introduces himself as the leader, orchestrating the bows and applause that are held for you.

And as he ushers them out one by one, the strange man who’s been watching you all day is the last to leave, lingering a little bit too long with his hands shoved in his pockets like he wants to say something. He loiters by the canvas for several minutes, but you make no move to angle the painting at him, usually maintaining a certain extent of confidentiality in your work to keep the surprise.

He seems to take the hint, almost nodding indirectly at you and more toward the wall, as he finally saunters out of the room with his hands still in his pockets, his strides painfully slow as he disappears from your sight.

And when you look back to the painting, you cock your head at his outline, trying to gauge whether your art properly captures the sheer sense of unnerve he instills in you with his features alone.

Painting sessions are burdensome. They require a lot of planning ahead of time, stocking up on supplies, scheduling around the hours-long timeframe and of course, the mental preparation of having to be stared at by rich men for several hours.

But perhaps critique sessions are even worse these days.

Your paintings are typically set in stone after the initial outlines, considering there are usually a few important figures who review your work and give you the go ahead to take it home and finish it.

Yet sometimes, you still have people complaining, pointing out unimportant features like the color of their sneakers which aren’t to their liking. It’s normally Q who fights these battles for you, refusing to allow you to make any changes since the payments are made upfront, too. But sometimes, even he caves, ordering you to pull out your briefcase and mix a darker shade of green or add more volume to the subject’s hair.

It’s the worst with investors, who put their audacity at the same level as their incomes. But with boy groups like this, you’re unsure, having never done a painting for a band prior to this one.

The finished canvas is transported in a nylon zip-up bag, held by yourself and Q as you fit it inside the truck and secure it with metal prongs. While the drive there is just an hour long, it feels much longer than the last time you traveled there, perhaps because you’re much more nervous.

And perhaps also, it’s because of the same strange man as last time, who you already know is going to have a mouthful to say. The way he lingered by your work station a little too long, wouldn’t stop staring and even excused himself from his own break early to resume his insufferable task of making you uncomfortable. You reckon it’ll be a comment about his hair, asking for a longer length or more volume. Maybe something about the stage outfit you were presented with and how it doesn’t make his legs look long enough. Or knowing his douchebag tendencies, maybe he won’t hesitate to ask for a fucking bulge in his pants at this point.

When you arrive, Q calls over the building staff to help transport the collosal work of art, while you wait awkwardly on the side with your hands shoved in your pockets. You take a moment to crane your neck and look up at the building, a tall glass monument with blue-tinted windows and cobalt text that displays the company name. It’s just as intimidating as you remembered it, instilling the same unnerving feeling that a hospital might.

When the building staff are finally making their way inside, you follow reluctantly, making yourself as small as possible behind them while they navigate the long blinding corridors. It’s an unusual feeling to be at the top floor of the building that you were just looking up at from the street below, and as you pass the windows that line the hallways, you can make out the rows of cars and people that now resemble ants from this high up. It’s as though you were never down there to begin with, like the world is different from up here, much more secluded and shut-in.

And seeing the pin boards that line the walls, with photos of successful artists and flyers for company events, it very well might be, this haunting building where dreams either go to flourish or decay.

Into the last door on the right, eight chairs lined up for eight artists who definitely seem to have flourished. The building staff set up the canvas at the front of the room, securing it into its wooden easel, and Q occupies himself setting up a recording camera which points directly at the painting and captures all eight chairs in the frame. It’s common protocol for events like these to be filmed, not always for public consumption, but for the staff to archive important commemorative moments in the artist’s name. Once the camera is rolling, Q gives you a thumbs up, gesturing to the staff to permit their exit as you make your way to the front with him.

“Ready?” He asks, clasping his hands together as he eyes the camera nervously. You say nothing in response, giving him a small nod, before taking your spot on the other side of the canvas and folding your hands behind your back.

For a few moments of complete silence, the two of you keep your gazes fixed on the clock that lives on the wall across you, the hands ticking with the passing seconds as you await the arrival of the band. Q turns to say something, seemingly disregarding it as he turns back to the wall and shifts his eyes to the door every few moments.

You wish he wouldn’t be so… anticipatory. You wish he’d just stand there, like a rock, indicating nothing of importance, so that you could put less weight into this and unveil the painting to them without any reservations.

Here’s the painting, you want to say. It took me forever, so don’t criticize it. You guys are shorter than my usual subjects. Except for the weirdo- and he stares too much.

You smile to yourself at the thought of being so candid with them, before an abrupt push of the door startles you, and you instantly straighten your posture at the sounds of boots clicking along the floor, leading the eight men who live on the canvas behind you.

One by one they take their seats, dressed to the nines this time in black slacks and collared button ups. They even flaunt ties, mirroring the businessmen you’re used to painting, and the fancy attire quickly makes you nervous as they fold their hands in their laps and fail to joke around like they did the last time.

“Welcome,” a booming voice says, as other important looking figures stand around the room and eye the covered canvas. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, and we’re eager to see what you’ve come up with.”

Applause fills the room, inclusive of the members of the band, which you finally allow yourself to look at. They sit properly, hands folded in their laps and serious expressions painted on their chiseled faces.

Except for the strange one, again, whose gaze is locked on yours. He cocks an eyebrow curiously, as though you’re the one doing the staring. And you quickly turn your attention back to Q, hoping that disregarding the men will calm your nerves a little.

“… she’s paid particular attention to detail,” Q continues, and you realize you’ve missed half his speech already.

“And we are so excited to hang her work in this renowned building as a commemorative piece for the members. Without further ado, please let’s unveil the artwork.”

As he finishes, two members of the staff tug on the beige cloth, letting it fall to the tiled floor beneath it and expose the giant portrait.

Their faces light up instantly, little “woah’s” filling the room as they rise from their seats to take a better look. They laugh at their own figures, they point out each other's and most of them even pull out their cellphones to snap photos of your art. It’s always a gratifying feeling, having a crowd admire the fruits of your labor this way, especially when you aren’t immediately met with verbal protest against your creative choices.

You take a few steps back to give some room to them, the staff talking amongst themselves and gesturing to the building where you presume they speak about where the painting will live.

“It’s a hit,” Q says, coming around to tap you lightly on the arm. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Quinton,” you respond. “I’m glad everyone enjoys it.”

And the staff applaud you once more, bowing to you and lining up to shake your hand as they begin to file out of the room again.

The members stick around for a good while, unable to take their eyes off the painting as they point out each other's features and admire their own. And as they begin to leave, several of them thank you personally on the way out, giving you a bow and shaking your hand.

“Thank you, really,” the man you remember being the group leader says to you. “We are so honored to have worked on this with you.”

Another clasps your hand in his, bowing several times before speaking. “Seungmin,” he states his name politely. “Thank you, I think you really did our old group leader justice.”

“Hey!” The leader calls, and you can’t help but laugh a little in response.

The others share similar sentiments, bowing and shaking your hand as they exit, chatting excitedly amongst themselves as they make their way down the hall for their next schedule.

And when you turn to face Q, you’re met with the last member, who folds his arms in front of him coldly and eyes the painting with raised eyebrows.

Like clockwork. He doesn’t like it, he’s going to request a change be made to it and he’s going to berate you in front of your own boss.

“It’s nice,” he chimes in casually from where he’s standing.

“Thanks,” you reply, Q gathering the cover from the floor and zipping it up again.

“Just one thing,” he says now, turning to face you.

“Oh, we normally don’t make changes after-”

“I have a freckle under my eye,” he finishes. “The left eye. You didn’t catch it.”

Your eyes scan the painting, where his chiseled face and long hair stare back at you, a serious expression in his eyes like he wears in person. And then you glance at him standing in front of you again, a small brown mole under his left eye, just like he speaks of.

“Go ahead and add it,” Q says, as he zips up the cover. “That should be on there already.”

And you nod your head at both of them, unzipping your briefcase again to retrieve your paints. He’s watching you like a hawk again, towering over your bent figure as you pull out a thin tube of brown paint and squeeze just a miniscule dollop onto the back of your hand. You retrieve your thinnest paint brush, dipping it into the paint and swiping it across your skin to rid the excess from the fine hairs.

It feels as though you have to paint it with his permission, as you bring the brush to his face and glance over at him for instruction. He gestures to his eye, motioning for you to start, as you bring the brush to his canvas flesh and tap on a tiny, single dot.

He stares at it for a moment, cocking his head as though a brown dot somehow won’t be to his liking. And even Q holds his breath while he waits for a comment from the man. You begin to say something, your lips parting silently, stuck on what to remark as you await his feedback. And then with bated breath, he finally speaks, giving a small nod as he does.

“Good,” he says simply. “It’s me now.”

Q nods at him, nods at you, and then gathers your belongings as you cap the loose tube of paint.

“Do you have a card?” The man asks suddenly, and Q pauses his shuffling about to retrieve one from his coat pocket.

“Here’s her card,” he says, against your silent protests. “She’s available for commission any time. Payments are up front and scheduling is through me only.”

The man nods, thumbing the gold foil cardstock in his slender fingers, and then shoves it into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hyunjin,” he says curtly, reaching his hand out to yours. “I’m the main dancer.”

And you just nod, placing your hand in his reluctantly as you shake once.

“Y/n.”

His hands are cold to the touch, the metal of his rings feeling like blocks of ice in your grasp. He holds it there for a moment, his narrowed eyes shooting daggers into yours, before he finally pulls away and pivots to leave with the rest of the band.

And you can only catch a glimpse of the back of his head when he’s halfway out, before Q turns to speak to you.

“Looks like we may be back very soon,” he remarks, latching your briefcase once more. “I’d hold on to that brown paint if I were you.”

Exactly four days pass before you hear from Hyunjin again. In fact, you’ve all but forgotten about the little run-in, until Q barges into your studio while you add the finishing touches to another client’s piece.

“I have a proposal for you,” Q voices, setting an iced coffee on the table beside you while you dip your paintbrush in a muddy cup of water.

“What is it?”

“Well financially, a massive opportunity. Career-wise, much of the same thing you’re already doing.”

“Businessmen?” You question, working your paintbrush in thin strokes to add hair to the figure on the canvas.

“Band,” he replies simply. “The same band you did last week. Just one member, though.”

And you know instantly who he speaks of, your face contorting into an expression of disgust as you wash your paint in the cup of water once more.

“Hyunjin?” You query.

“That’s him,” he says, snapping his fingers as the name comes back to him. “He’s offering double what we paid last, and just for an individual piece. That’s a massive markup from what we usually charge.”

“I don’t know,” you reply hesitantly. “I’m pretty busy with this, and we-”

“I already said yes,” he states simply.

“You did? What- I thought this was a proposal.”

“Yeah,” he says with a scoff. “A proposal to get your stuff ready. We start tomorrow. And he wants you to bring every color you’ve got.”

“Tomorrow? Don’t we already have a prior commitment?”

“Already moved them out,” Q says, sitting on the chair across from you.

“Look,” he begins, sighing deeply. “I know you’re hesitant about these things. But this is the best move you can do, career-wise. Painting these famous figures is a gold mine for us. One day you could be commissioned to paint royalty, and then we’ll be reaping three times our salary.”

And you sigh, too, knowing very well that he’s right. Being a painter who gets commissioned to commemorate important characters, you know the best thing you can do for yourself is say yes to every opportunity. You’re very seldom able to, which is why you have Q in the first place. But the prospect of spending another day with Hyunjin scares you, and you’re not sure Q would consider it a legitimate concern if you brought it up to him.

“I’ll be there, too,” Q interrupts, almost as though he can read your mind. “It’s just him. One day, max, and then you can pick up your other projects.”

It doesn’t seem like there will be a way out of this one, no matter how much you pray that things will fall through eventually.

“One day,” you echo. “And then I’m tunnel vision on the rest of my projects.”

You can tell Hyunjin’s thought about this very carefully, judging by the way he saunters into the room with purposeful strides and slings a bag off his shoulder.

He’s dressed a little more casually today in a denim jacket and jeans, with layered silver jewelry that contrasts nicely against his jet black hair.

“Like a model headshot, but painted,” he describes his vision to you, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

“I want it to look really serious. And maybe a cool-toned color palette.”

He’s meticulous with his requests, and you wonder briefly if he dabbles in art, himself.

“Sure, we can do that,” Q responds, jotting down a few points in a small notepad.

You say nothing, letting Q do all the talking, but Hyunjin’s eyes glance over at you briefly like he wants you to acknowledge the request. So you just nod graciously, giving him a thin-lipped smile, and begin to undo your briefcase.

Hyunjin assumes his same spot on one of the wooden stools, dragging it closer to you by its leg and propping it within eye-view of your big canvas. And then he sits on it, or rather slouches, adjusting his gaze to look straight at you and maintain a cold, serious expression.

It’s just as unnerving as you’d remembered it, having this model-looking figure pierce daggers through your soul while you mix your paints- cool-toned ones, at his request, and prepare for the hour-long trek of capturing his essence.

At least you won’t have to talk to him- or so you’d assumed from the last session you completed with him.

“What’s your process like?” He asks, his sultry voice perfectly matching his features.

“Oh,” you remark, mixing a set of paints to mirror his even skin tone. “I don’t know, I just paint what I see.”

He nods, satisfied with your less-than-wordy answer, and then he begins to prod you with more questions.

“What are your favorite art supplies?”

You cock an eyebrow at this, well aware that you have a long list you can indulge him in, but not wanting to share your secrets with this complete stranger.

“I dunno,” you reply softly. “Oil paints, and graphite pencils really.”

Hyunjin nods again, and then he glances at Q, who gives him a thin-lipped smile much like yours, trying his hardest to remain polite with Hyunjin. You know Q is likely frustrated with you for not entertaining this conversation in a more lively manner, especially considering what he paid for this session, but you’re not going to indulge him in anything except painting him- and only for this one session, like you promised Q.

And the rest of the session is uneventful, Hyunjin poking you with questions about your personal favorite paintings or inquiring about a time you messed up on an important piece. All questions which are answered with brief “I don’t know’s” or “there are so many, I can’t choose.”

And although you are trying hard to keep Hyunjin at a distance, nothing seems to faze him, his head nods and little hums serving as indicators of his satisfaction with all of your answers. He doesn’t get pushy, like your other clients often do, and he even presses Q for a few answers as he makes sense of your work.

At just past 5, the session draws to a close, as Hyunjin rises from his stool and announces he has to tend to his evening dance practice.

“It’s nice seeing you again,” Hyunjin says as he approaches you, giving a small bow as Q waits off to the side.

“Thank you,” you voice back, glancing at Q for a push to leave.

And Hyunjin extends a single hand, gesturing for you to place yours in his, as he towers over you with a curious expression.

You reluctantly place your palm in his, letting the cool metal of his rings graze your skin as he clasps his thumbs over your fingers and rubs them in gentle back and forth motions. He doesn’t bring it up for a cordial peck, he doesn’t shake it- he simply caresses your artist hands tenderly, before letting go again and turning to give Q a small bow as well.

“Take care,” Hyunjin says, pivoting to exit the room into the corridor.

And as Q pesters you with orders to clean up your workstation, you examine your own hands, rotating your own fingers around, like they might somehow be changed by his touch.

ON HOLD- The notes under your projects on the big calendar in Q’s office read, written in dark red pen and underlined twice across the pages.

You furrow your brows in confusion, setting your bag down as you enter for the day and ready your art supplies.

“What’s going on?” You ask Q, who’s busy sorting through a stack of invoices.

“Have a seat,” he replies plainly, gesturing to one of the leather chairs that accompany his grand wooden desk. And you do, sitting on the very edge of the chair as you await further instruction from him.

“A gift came for you,” Q says, slinging a large box on the desk in front of you.

You stand up once again, peering inside at the myriad of oil paints, sharpened charcoal pencils, new smocks, palettes and even books about artists and their works. You dig through the supplies, heart racing at the expensive choices, feeling undeserving of all the presents the box contains.

“This is all for me?” You question, baffled at the prospect that anybody could care enough about your career to indulge you in such a fine assortment of goods.

“Read the card,” Q then says, his arms folded in front of him as he nods toward the top of the cardboard box, where a simple yellow envelope is taped to the cover, cursive text scribbled on the front. Hyunjin, it reads.

You undo the seal, pulling out the small card inside, which only contains a short, cold sentence, in contrast to the warm gift.

“For the next few”, it says, not so much as a sign off or even a simple “thanks”.

“Next few?” You repeat, meeting Q’s gaze with a confused expression.

Q sighs, sitting across from you, folding his hands out on the wooden surface where you can see them.

“His manager called this morning,” he begins. “And commissioned us for another one. Except this one has a long set of rules. He wants you to use these supplies, he wants to visit your studio instead of occupy the company building. And he specifically asked me not to accompany you.”

“What?” You exclaim, angered at the sheer audacity he has, and knowing very well that you only agreed to one painting.

“That’s completely against our rules,” you continue. “Did you tell him no?”

And Q gives you a sheepish grin, gesturing to the stack of papers he flipped through earlier. “They’re offering quadruple the pay,” he says sternly. “He’s obsessed with your work.”

“So what?” You argue. “I have a ton of other projects to finish. And I’m not throwing all of that away because some guy wants time alone with the artist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting alone time with an artist,” Q emphasizes.

“This is a huge sacrifice, Quinton. I wish you would’ve run this by me earlier.”

Your eyes meet the calendar above his desk again, counting the number of projects with a big ON HOLD scribbled below them. Q sighs, evidently feeling a little guilty for his own actions, and then pinches his wireframe glasses between his fingers, pulling them off his face and tucking them into the pocket of his blazer.

“I’m willing to give you 10% more than what you already make from these.”

Your gaze snaps to his, a bewildered expression on your face as you process his words.

“What- seriously? Quinton, that’s-”

“His company’s loaded” he says with a shrug. “The guy is so much bigger than I thought he was. People love him.”

And your gaze flickers between the calendar and the big red text, Quinton’s hopeful stare and at the box of new art supplies you’ll be required to work with.

Q doesn’t need to press you for verbal confirmation, knowing that the caress of your fingers over Hyunjin’s name on the envelope serves as answer enough.

Your studio is particularly messy on Wednesdays, housing all of the project paraphernalia from the days prior. Today is no exception, canvases that sit on easels lining the walls and cans of paint thinner spread out on the tarps. You make your best attempt at shoving everything against the wall, creating a clear pathway for Hyunjin to stride into the way he always does. And you set up your canvas prior to his arrival, getting all of your necessary supplies in place to avoid the awkward few moments of setting up while he watches you so intently.

He’s a punctual idol if you’ve ever met one, arriving at 5pm on the dot, expensive-looking sunglasses shielding his eyes from the barely visible sunlight outside, and a black beanie pulled over his head. He looks like he could be a security guard of his own, the all-black attire even more unsettling as he makes his way inside.

There’s a reason you never house clients in your own studio- the reason being it’s small. It’s office-sized, large glass windows on one side of the wall that overlook a sea of greenery that’s now overgrown with all the recent rains. The floor is gray concrete, stained just about everywhere with swatches of paint and charcoal pieces. And the two tabled surfaces that are available are covered in art supplies, the color of the furniture now indistinguishable as they house tubes of paint, brushes and cans of thinner.

“You can put your bag on the chair there,” you say as he walks in, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

He does as told, setting a designer crossbody on the folding chair by one of the tables, and then he stands confidently, observing the room as he awaits further instruction.

He takes long strides around the perimeter of the room, leaning closely into the existing canvases to study your techniques. But he says nothing, remaining much quieter than last time, the only sound coming from his heeled boots as he moves elegantly around the studio.

“I’m ready,” you say, and Hyunjin turns around to face you. He cocks his head slightly, and then he brings one hand up to pull the beanie off his head, letting his brown tresses fall loosely around his handsome face, not requiring much adjustment as they seem to fall in disarray so perfectly. He pulls his sunglasses off as well, folding them between his plump lips before tucking them into the pocket of his jeans as he finally stops to look at you.

He looks as handsome as he always does, his unreal features looking as though he was modeled by a painting and not the other way around. You feel small in front of him, and unimportant, as he approaches you and stops just in front of your much smaller figure.

“How do you want me?” Hyunjin asks, cuffing up the sleeves of his black knit sweater.

“It’s up to you,” you reply to him, giving a small shrug as you speak.

“This one’s your call,” Hyunjin retorts. “I want it from the artist’s vision.”

And you can’t help the blush that creeps up on your cheeks, feeling embarrassingly flustered at the idea of someone caring even slightly about your vision. Everything’s from your client’s vision- the outfits, the poses, even the adjustments they request following the painting’s unveiling. It’s very seldom that you’re able to provide any directions to the standard of your vision, and though it’s unexpected, it’s a little endearing.

“My vision?” You echo, tapping your fingers on your chin.

You glance around the room at the supplies you have on hand, nothing special, but definitely materials you can work with.

Without replying to him, you pull forward one of the folding chairs, setting it down in front of your easel and gesturing to it.

“Could you sit on the top part? Like, on the back of the chair?”

Hyunjin nods, climbing up onto the chair and balancing as he takes a seat on the back part. It’s a little unstable looking, but Hyunjin seems to manage just fine, spreading his legs casually and running his hands through his hair.

“Your hands,” you chime in, taking note of the silver watch he flaunts on his left wrist. “Could you rest them on your knees?”

“Like this?” Hyunjin questions, sprawling his palms out over his kneecaps.

“Not quite,” you reply. “A little more like…”

And then without warning, you take both his hands in yours, positioning his elbows to rest atop his kneecaps so that his hands hang loosely in front of him. He cocks his face up to meet your gaze, the same intense expression he always houses, and you take a step back to admire the position.

“Exactly like that,” you say to him. “Tell me if you get uncomfortable and we’ll take a break.”

Hyunjin shoots a small smile, perhaps more of a smirk at you, as he sits still and watches you begin to paint in long strokes along the canvas. Your movements are fluid and impetuous, but every stroke proves itself more robust than the last, painting a clear outline of Hyunjin’s seated figure as he keeps his eyes on you. And maybe it’s because you’ve chosen his pose this time, or because it’s your third time doing this with Hyunjin, but you don’t feel nearly as uncomfortable anymore, keeping your attention on the painting and disregarding any implications that might derive from his cold stare.

“I wasn’t sure which brand of oil paints you preferred,” Hyunjin says suddenly. “So I bought you three kinds.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply softly. “Thank you for the gifts. You really didn’t have to.”

“You have a talent,” Hyunjin voices. “I hung the last one up in my own studio.”

“You have a studio?” You question, remembering Q had previously mentioned something about him being an artist.

“I do,” Hyunjin answers. “It’s nothing like this one, just some canvases in the shared dorm we have. But I paint in all my free time. If I wasn’t here right now, I’d probably be painting.”

“That’s interesting,” you reply. “I’d love to see your work someday.

And Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate to pull his phone out, navigating to his camera roll to show you some of his pieces. He flashes you a painting of a bouquet of roses, placed in a glass case atop a table. Another showcases a city street, scribbled cars and people that line the pavement. And a whole gallery of them depict people- couples, in particular, in all sorts of romantic poses. Kissing, hugging, embracing with such passion and force, almost consuming each other with their visible desperation for one another.

“They’re beautiful,” you say, in awe at the technique of his art. You weren’t expecting him to be so good, for someone who doesn’t paint as a full-time career.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replies, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve learned so much from you.”

“Me?” You retort with a small chuckle. “I highly doubt that, your stuff is very unique. But I’m flattered that you’d say that. Thank you.”

Hyunjin keeps his gaze on yours for a moment, cocking his head to the side as though he’s observing your features. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes narrowing and widening again as he takes in the sight of you dabbing a little more olive paint into his complexion. And then he straightens his back, steadying himself on the chair with two hands gripping the sides.

“When was the last time you left this studio?” He inquires with a smug expression. He sounds a little more serious now, and his tone of voice makes your heartbeat race.

“I don’t live here,” you reply plainly. “I leave every day.”

“When was the last time you escaped?” He then clarifies. “When was the last time you weren’t confined here for the purposes of work?”

You furrow your brows, trying your best to keep busy with your task and avert his gaze.

“This is my job,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to escape.”

“I’m a dancer,” Hyunjin states matter-of-factly. “I don’t live in the studio at the building. Sure, the bright lights and the walls of mirrors help with the choreography. But sometimes I dance in my dorm. And sometimes I dance in a big grass field when nobody’s watching.”

You pause your brushstrokes for a moment, finally meeting his gaze as he stares down at you. He raises one eyebrow, waiting for an answer, which you fail to provide him with as he leans forward once again and clasps his hands together.

“You feel trapped here, don’t you?”

And suddenly his words infuriate you, the sheer audacity of him to walk into your studio demanding all these rules from you, like your boundaries can be overlooked if they’re bought. And who is he to pry into your life like this, knowing next to nothing about you except that you’re a painter? It’s blasphemous- offensive, even.

“I’m not trapped,” you say, standing from your stool and backing away from him a little. “I love my job. I can quit whenever I want to, and this is my passion.”

“Who are you when you’re not painting these portraits?” Hyunjin inquires, and your eyebrows contort into a much angrier frown.

“Who are you to imply any of this, anyway? You’re an idol. You’re the one who’s trapped in the confines of a million rules- are you even allowed to be here right now? Who are you when you’re not putting on the mask of a completely different persona?”

You exhale frustratedly as you finish, taking a moment to catch your breath, and trying your best to avoid his gaze. But when you meet his piercing eyes again, he’s smiling, a wicked expression on his face like he’s amused at your lashing.

“I’m glad you asked ,” he says simply.

“What?”

“I’d assumed it was part of your vision, to maybe scratch below the surface of the flesh outlines you paint. I know there’s more than meets the eye to your work. You have this passion about you.”

“Passion?” You reply nervously, now fiddling with the brush still in your grasp.

“Mhm,” Hyunjin responds casually. “Like you want to lash out. Go on, get it off your chest. I won’t mind.”

And you say nothing again, shrinking back into the confines of your wooden stool as you swirl the brush around in the same mug of water and dip it back into a dollop of paint.

“I’m sorry,” you voice to him. “I don’t treat my clients like this. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders sag a little, as though he was waiting for you to keep the chaos alive in this little studio. He just nods, and then he assumes the same position as earlier, his knees spread in front of him and his hands resting comfortably on his knee caps as he slouches forward.

You resume the task of shading in his skin tone, adding highlights to the elevated portions of his face and glancing over at him in intervals to confirm where the light hits him.

“I’ve learned so much from you,” Hyunjin says for the second time tonight, and you’re still unsure what he means by it. “I think we could learn a lot about each other.”

And the studio falls silent for the remainder of the session, as he allows his eyes to bore into your soul while you translate his being onto the canvas in front of you. Or at least the parts that are able to be translated.

Your calendar is blocked off for the remainder of the week for other clients, Hyunjin rescheduling his sessions as he prepares for a performance overseas.

Your heart sinks a little when Q announces the schedule change to you, secretly praying you haven’t completely ruined your artist/client relationship with Hyunjin. He’s definitely a little odd, and he can be pushy when he wants to be. But he’s undeniably more intriguing than the investors you’re used to housing at the studio, telling you stories of his dancing and inquiring about all your favorite techniques every chance he gets.

He’s the first client who’s ever uttered the word “vision” when it came to yours, and not his, and you can’t let go of the value it added to your last session with him. You had yelled at him, ordered him to stop projecting his thoughts onto yours and asking personal questions. But it was the first time you felt alive, somewhat visible to a client as you painted them. His eyes pierce through your soul, every tangible inch of it, and not just the empty shell of who you are when you’re not existing so loudly. And Hyunjin seems like the only catalyst that allows you to exist loudly these days, even Q walking all over you like you’re an extension of his tedious ways.

Although your last conversation didn’t go quite as smoothly as you’d hoped it would, Hyunjin’s words continue to circle your mind relentlessly, your heart trying to make sense of them no matter how hard you try.

“Who are you when you’re not painting these portraits?”

It’s a fair question, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a discourteous one, either. Maybe he’s genuinely curious about the woman you are when you’re not following Q’s orders. But where has Hyunjin pulled the implication from that you’re anyone except for the person assigned to produce these portraits? You’ve given him no reason to think anything of you besides the well-mannered, focused painter you are. And to imply anything else would also, by extension, imply he knows something about you.

“I’ve learned so much about you,” he had also said to you, twice in the same session. And can one really learn from two, three sessions of watching an artist paint? Sure, if he was more focused on your technique and your mannerisms rather than staring at you so intensely. But he hadn’t seemed to be interested in much else, simply keeping his gaze on yours and asking base-level questions about your artist career.

If anything, you could learn a lot about Hyunjin, who has the whole world at his disposal and walks around this place like he owns it. He speaks of you like he’s trying to study you. He wants to learn from you, despite being the one wielding much more knowledge and wisdom than you could even begin to fathom. True, you don’t escape this studio- and you don’t utilize it without the intention to work. In fact, your work consumes you most days, your personal life just a microscopic dot in the grand scheme of this arrangement.

But Hyunjin seems to think otherwise, his generous gifts and his fascination with returning seeming to imply something else. Like he wants to learn from you, or like he’s convinced he already has.

In apprehension, like he knows you.

“Where are we going?” You query when Hyunjin arrives next, quickly ordering you to gather your supplies and ushering you to the door.

“We’re not painting here today,” he says plainly.

“What? No, Hyunjin I don’t paint anywhere except for-”

“The studio or a company,” he finishes. “That’s the issue. I want to take you somewhere more lively.”

“I can’t be around people,” you respond. “I don’t… it’ll just mess up the whole process.”

“Do you trust me?” Hyunjin asks suddenly, his hand extending out to yours for the briefcase you grasp.

What a simplified question- absolutely not. You don’t trust him, that’s the issue with leaving the studio. You’re still not sure of his career as a whole, you’re not sure why he’s so adamant about breaking all sorts of rules and you don’t know anything beyond his name.

“No,” you reply. “I don’t think I trust you at all, actually.”

And Hyunjin just smiles, stepping forward to take the briefcase from you.

“Good,” he replies, the same amused smile plastered on his face. “That means there’s still a lot I can teach you.”

He watches you slip on your coat, undeniably confused, but in a trance-like state obeying his commands, like your heart won’t let you hear your brain’s protests.

Hyunjin doesn’t drive. He doesn’t need to, having his own personal chauffeur at his beck and call, able to go just about anywhere in the evening during his allotted hours of free time. Ones he normally spends in the studio, watching you paint.

You sit quietly on one side of the fancy black car, your hands folded neatly in your lap and staring at the passing blur of city lights out the window. Hyunjin occupies the other, one of his slender hands resting atop the briefcase in an attempt to steady it whilst the driver makes sharp turns and brakes a little too harshly.

You watch as the city roads turn to one long paved road, surrounded by tall grass and trees. And this path goes on for a while, maybe 20 or 30 minutes, as you remain in comfortable silence. The driver seems to be acquainted with the road, turning every way he needs to, no form of navigation telling where to go, simply having memorized the route. And Hyunjin doesn’t seem tense in the slightest, humming softly to himself as he taps his fingers along the leather surface of the briefcase.

The fork at the end of the road signals the stopping point for the driver, who hits the brakes, but doesn’t turn the car off. The keys remain in the ignition as he comes around to open your door, guiding you out with one hand and bowing graciously to the both of you.

“One hour,” Hyunjin says to him, sliding him a generously folded bill.

The driver nods, occupying his spot in the driver’s seat, and you watch him make a U-turn before driving off down the path again.

The environment is quiet, much quieter than any spot back in the city. It’s nothing except for trees and tall grass that sway with the gentle evening breeze, the sky swallowing up a now orange sun as nighttime begins to over both of you. If you squint, you can even see the mountains from here, some of them lined with little yellow lights, probably vacant buildings or farm workers. And the birds sing their last songs of the day, mellow tunes that harmonize with the growing chirps of crickets.

“It’s pretty here,” you remark to Hyunjin, who stands looking out at the view with his hands tucked in his coat pockets.

He doesn’t reply for a moment, his long hair swaying with the breeze. And then he tilts his head in the direction of the briefcase, nodding once.

“Paint what you see,” he orders.

You nod reluctantly, scrambling to open the briefcase and set up your supplies.

“Do you want to stand there? Or… do you prefer something else?”

He smiles, a little amused at your rushed state, and then he shakes his head.

“Not me,” he clarifies. “The view. Paint what you see.”

You swallow a lump in your throat, stopping your movements and pondering the words for a moment. You haven’t painted a view in god knows how long. Your skills are rusty, your techniques are skewed and the whole concept of it makes you shudder.

“The view?” You question back. You take a moment to look at the view again- there are possibilities everywhere. Green grasses that resemble paint strokes themselves, a deepening blue sky with strokes of blues and blacks, stars like paint splatters and trees with sponge-painted bushels. The art is everywhere, the possibilities are vast and endless with a view like this one.

“The view,” Hyunjin echoes. “Don’t take it too seriously. This isn’t some company's order to paint me. I just want to see the world through your eyes.”

And you nod, once, Hyunjin helping you latch your sketch pad to the easel as you mix a myriad of blues and greens together on your wooden palette.

He flips through your sketch pad for a little while before stepping away, nodding at the pages upon pages of art unlike any of your portraits. When you think he’s going to move, he doesn’t, remaining in the same spot and nodding his head at the works. And you feel a little shy, a little confused at why he’s taken so much interest in the work you complete on the side, work completely unrelated to any of your portraits. When he reaches a blank page, he meets your gaze with a small smile, nodding his head once at you as he finally moves out of the way.

And then you finally begin, hesitantly, as Hyunjin finds a spot in an undisturbed part of the grass, sprawling his long legs out in front of him and pulling out a sketch pad from his own bag. He angles it away from you, beginning to make long, generous lines with his charcoal pencil, peering over at the trees every now and then to gauge their shape. And you remain there, a comfortable silence among both of you, as you both capture the view in your respective visions.

The technique comes back to you instantly, like motion memory, quickly sponging leaves into the trees and pulling the dark sky from its draped position over you to plaster it onto the canvas you work on. Blues, greens, glittering whites for the night stars and fantastic shades of chartreuse and viridian find their homes on the canvas, so carefully placed and mirroring the view you overlook. You emulate the shadows, the waning glints of light, even the sounds seem to live on the picturesque view where time stands still in the confines of four walls.

Hyunjin doesn’t disturb your work flow- in fact, for most of the time you remain there, you cease to remember he’s even working on a sketch of his own, his delicate figure disappearing among the trees as your peripherals shut him out and bring nature to the forefront.

It’s only an hour you’re there, like Hyunjin had promised, before he’s returning to your spot and standing behind you to look over your shoulder.

“Beautiful,” Hyunjin states dramatically. “Beautiful, and spectacular, and shining.”

You chuckle lightly, wiping the brush on your smock and tucking it away in one of the front pockets.

“Will you sign it?” Hyunjin asks, cocking his head a little to try to find where your signature currently sits, but finding nothing.

“Oh, yeah,” you respond, bringing a charcoal pencil to the bottom right and scribbling a quick signature.

He scans the painting once more, tracing a finger over the corner where you’ve added your signature, and then he gives a small nod before meeting your gaze.

“This one’s my favorite,” Hyunjin tells you. “Because it’s entirely your vision.”

“The ones I make of you are my vision, too,” you explain, and Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

“I like how you see the world. Not how you see me. Or anybody else, for that matter.”

And you find yourself blushing again, unsure if his intention is to fluster you with his poetic words, but well aware that he’s having the effect on you regardless.

“Thank you,” you echo politely. “I like this one, too.”

Your gazes remain fixed on each other for a brief moment, the grass now standing still as the night falls over you, stars glittering in the black sky and the crickets singing their nocturnal songs.

For the first time since meeting him, Hyunjin looks less cold at this proximity to you, his entire demeanor exuding softness and comfort as he smiles at you. Maybe it’s the black puffer coat he wears, the collar pulled up to his chin to keep warm from the frigid winter night around you. He wears his glasses, too, these ones a thicker black frame, pushed high up on his face and a little dorky, admittedly. But it’s also because he seems kinder, more warm and welcoming. There’s no existing rush to capture him any which way- in fact, there’s no pressure to capture him at all. And maybe when you’re not translating his model-like appearance onto canvas, you’re able to step back and admire that he’s soft under his hard exterior, he’s so gentle and human.

At first, you debate telling him, a sudden urge inside of you to apologize for your presumptions of him and admit that he’s slowly become your favorite client to be around. Maybe he’s right- maybe you do have a lot you can teach each other. He lives a life of lavishness, entertaining varying aspects of his idol career and serving a role of great importance to those who know him. And he is certainly of importance to your career, being your highest-paying customer and the one you’ve painted the most now. But he plays a role in other parts of your life too, allowing you to try new techniques, entertain your vision, circling your mind with his poetic words and his strategic motions. All lessons which allow you to grow outside the confines of your studio, too.

But you settle on silence, not wanting Hyunjin to think too boldly of you. Maybe he’s like this with everybody he crosses paths with. Choreographers, vocal coaches and painters alike. Maybe he’s simply as fascinating as he looks.

As you study him again, the sound of a car engine interrupts you, and you turn around to find Hyunjin’s driver has returned as promised. You bring a hand up to shield your eyes from the bright headlights that illuminate the whole field, as Hyunjin helps you gather your supplies again, securing the canvas in its case and transporting it into the backseat of the car with the driver’s help.

Hyunjin holds the door for you this time, ushering you inside, and then he comes around to slide into the backseat next to you.

“I think it’s going to rain,” the driver says as he puts the car in reverse.

You crane your neck to look at the sky through the tinted windows, dark blue clouds that loom overhead and seem to make the night even colder.

“I have one more place we need to stop at,” Hyunjin says suddenly, sitting forward to make eye contact with the driver through the mirror.

The driver nods in response, as if the last location is a secret kept between them, as he begins down the dirt path again in silence.

“Ever been here?” Hyunjin questions, as he holds out a hand to guide you up the stairs. The steep concrete stairs lead to a grand crested marble doorway, a bronze statue out in front and dimly lit lamp posts that illuminate the sign overhead.

Museum of Modern Art.

“Once, a long, long time ago,” you respond. “I think I usually steer clear from galleries since I don’t show my work at them.”

Hyunjin chuckles softly, stopping at the front door and meeting the gaze of a security guard, who promptly strides over and opens the door just an inch.

Hyunjin pulls out an ID, and a folded paper of some sort, and you watch as the security examines it briefly before nodding. It’s only then that you realize the museum is closed for the evening, the only person around behind the night security, but of course that rule doesn’t apply to Hyunjin, who can get in just about anywhere with the flash of a smile.

“It’s the only way to visit with no one else around,” Hyunjin says, confirming your theory. “They let me stay as long as I want. Sometimes I draw here.”

You nod at his words, giving a small smile as the security eyes you intensely, and then he opens the door to guide both of you inside. Hyunjin removes his coat, slinging it over a nearby coat hanger, and he flaunts a white knit sweater with his dark jeans, looking cozy in contrast to the dark winter night outside. He holds your sketch pad tucked under one arm, and then he skips excitedly to a room behind a curtain.

“This one’s my favorite!” He exclaims, giggling softly like a child might. “Do you know they’re all made out of recycled materials?”

And you brush the curtain aside, being met with the sculptures he speaks of, neutral-toned figurines that appear to be made of paper mache, all resembling people. Their forms hold each other, mimic ballroom dancing, and even embrace each other in a tender kiss as they stand tall in the center of the room.

You watch as Hyunjin snaps a few photos with his cellphone, craning his neck to view them at a better angle, and then he turns to face you.

“What do you think?” Hyunjin asks.

“They’re beautiful,” you reply. “They kind of remind me of your drawings.”

He shoots you a flustered smile in response, touched that you’ve even remembered what his drawings look like. And then he graciously bows as he ushers to another room.

“I think you’ll like the next one.”

The next room behind another dark curtain is a gallery of paintings, all of them abstract forms of art that experiment with different colors and mediums. You take a while in this room, sauntering down the row of canvases and observing how each one captures something completely different from the others. Some include only cool-toned shades, their strokes much smaller and overall more somber. Some play with warm tones, long generous strokes that capture passion and heat. And some mix both, two stories dancing in harmony on one canvas, contrasting light with shadow and love with regret.

As you cock your head slightly, observing the way the colors are so evocative from this proximity, Hyunjin comes to stand next to you, cocking his head in a similar fashion and taking in the same details that you do. And if someone were to stand behind you, maybe both of you would mirror the painting, too, two hues of life and recluse working in perfect harmony alongside each other.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asks, and you hum in response.

“Yeah. I love these colors.”

Hyunjin nods, giving the painting a last once-over before nodding in the direction of another curtain.

“Come on, I want to show you this last one.”

The last room houses a little bench, where Hyunjin occupies the left side and pats the spot next to him. You take a seat, your hands folded neatly in your lap, as you observe the colossal painting in front of you.

It’s a watercolor painting, one amorphous shape at a far distance, yet at this proximity, the tangible outline of a figure, sat with legs pulled to the chest and crouched in a position evoking such sadness.

The cold blue hues highlight the shadows which define body parts among the pile of limbs, the curve of a breast, the almost indistinguishable outline of a leg, aspects you have to really squint hard to make out. But the colors complement each other so artistically, and the figure in the painting looks so melancholy, so longing for something more than the confines of the canvas she lives on.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hyunjin voices, and you nod, swallowing as you remain quiet.

He pauses for a moment, his voice hitching in the back of his throat, before speaking again.

“The artist was a child prodigy,” he begins. “Apparently they painted all their life and then became a sort of recluse into adulthood. No one’s seen a painting from them since. This was their last big project.”

“Interesting,” you remark quietly.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin replies. “And their art is always titled around themes of loneliness and solitude. Every painting kind of feels like a puzzle piece leading up to their disappearance from the art world.”

Hyunjin says nothing as your eyes dart around the room, swallowing nervously as you ponder what to say. And nothing comes to mind, nothing that won’t make you seem crazy, or irate.

And then before you can protest his actions, he flips open your sketch pad he’s kept tucked under his arm all this time, flipping through a few pages until he’s nearly at the end. He stops at one of your paintings, cool aqua hues filling the paper in the same manner as the one hung on the wall.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Hyunjin finally says, and you realize he’s turned to face you now.

You stand up at this point, smoothing down your blouse and turning away from his gaze.

“Sorry, I have to go-”

You search for an exit, unable to locate one amidst the dark curtains and the dimly lit room. And the only thing you can think to do is walk back the way you entered, beginning back through the abstract painting gallery as Hyunjin follows behind you.

“They’re amazing,” Hyunjin says. “You have a talent. Your paintings were always my favorite-”

“Please, stop,” you interrupt, your heart beating erratically as you make your way past the paper mache sculptures.

“Why did you stop making them?” He asks, now standing still in the entrance, the security guard on high alert as he watches Hyunjin’s stressed demeanor.

“Sorry,” you voice to the security guard, bowing to him. “I have to go, thank you so much.”

And without turning to look at Hyunjin, you push the doors open, making your way out of the museum and onto the concrete steps. It’s raining now, hard, like the driver had predicted, and you march right past his parked car to one of the taxis parked by the curb.

The cab driver takes an address from you, punching it into his navigation system as he begins to drive down the street, and you pray he can’t hear the quiet sniffles coming from you in the backseat.

As he pulls away from the curb, you glance out the window at the museum, where Hyunjin’s now shoving past the door and standing still, his hands dropped at his sides and a hurt expression on his face.

His hair falls damp around his face as he lets the sheets of rain wash over him, his driver exiting the vehicle in a rush to get Hyunjin back into the safety of the car.

But he remains there, unmoving, his hurt gaze fixed on yours, as you turn a corner and fall out of his sight.

And just like the sessions were uneventful before Hyunjin, they’re much more uneventful after him, too.

Putting the sessions on hold for Hyunjin is nothing, his life full of vibrancy and color when he’s not spending an hour or two with you in the evening posing for a painting. It’s time he fills with extra dance practice, vocal training, spending time with his members and even doing art of his own.

But for you, it means returning to a life of mediocrity, requesting stock brokers to angle their big heads in a more appealing manner so you can capture every one of their unsightly features. You’re ogled at by salesmen, disrespected by accountants and not a single one of them could give a shit about your vision.

A part of you wants to call Hyunjin and apologize, to explain that he was out of line in his approach to identify you and catch you so off-guard. But you’re mostly angry at him, for having ruined something so beautiful you took pride in every week. Now he’s gone, the sessions put on pause until further notice and your life forever changed by Hyunjin, though he’ll keep living his life of lavishness despite being the source of all your pain.

“Now that we don’t have Hyunjin on the books after this week, I need you to resume the work on Mr. Lee’s painting. Let’s not lose sight of the ones we started prior to his pieces,” Q says, as he flips through a clipboard of printed schedules.

“This week?” You echo in question. “I thought sessions with Hyunjin were put on hold until further notice.”

“They were,” he responds. “After your last session this week. He’ll be here tomorrow evening. He’s your last client of the day.”

“Tomorrow?” You repeat, pausing your brush strokes as you turn to look at him. “He requested to come in tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Q replies with furrowed brows. “Why, is there a problem? I already told him yes.”

“No, that’s fine,” you reply, rotating the brush around in your fingers as you think over his words. “Tomorrow works fine.”

Despite the sessions being put on hold, you’ll still have a moment to explain yourself to Hyunjin and make amends. It might not get you exactly where you were before all of this, but the thought of letting Hyunjin part ways thinking you despise him makes your stomach turn. You’ll still get a moment alone with him to rekindle the state of your friendship.

… Or so you thought. When you arrive at the studio the next day for your last session, Q is still there, organizing papers at one of the tables and still dressed in a fancy blazer and tie like he never left from this morning’s session.

“Quinton?” You call, setting your purse down and toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Yes?” He responds, not looking up at you.

“Are you… don’t you normally sit these sessions out?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he says casually. “I’ll be sitting in on this last one. I know they were put on hold pretty abruptly, and I wanted to be around for your last one.”

You give him a small nod, protesting his actions mentally. You won’t get a minute alone with Hyunjin after all- not with Q watching you like a hawk. You want to scream at him, to tell him he has to leave and that he’ll be permanently disrupting the client-artist relationship you’ve developed with your highest-paying customer if he stays and taints the room with his overwhelming presence. But he largely determines the success of your career, whether you like it or not. And requesting Q’s absence will most certainly point to something more going on between you and Hyunjin.

“Right,” you reply. “That’s fine.”

You wish Quinton wouldn’t be so… mechanical. You wish he could trust that you’ll get the job done, despite any existing tensions between you and Hyunjin. You wish he wouldn’t pretend to care about being present, when in reality you know he just wants to make sure it wasn’t you who screwed something up. And you wish he would leave you alone with Hyunjin to make amends the way you know you need to before you part ways with him.

When the door opens once again, you both turn your heads to look at Hyunjin, who strolls in with casual strides, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His gaze falls on Q, and he furrows his brows together, finally looking at you, with a confused expression on his face.

“Welcome!” Q says obnoxiously. “I’ll be sitting in for this session, I hope you don’t mind.”

Hyunjin shoots him a thin-lipped smile, giving a subtle nod as he slings his bag off.

“Sure,” he replies. “That’s fine.”

He assumes his spot on the same wooden stool, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap, and then he turns to meet your gaze.

“How do you want me?” Hyunjin asks. He sounds more somber than the other times he’d asked the same question, his voice trailing off a little as he waits for a reply.

“This is good,” you say, taking your own seat and beginning to work light strokes across the canvas. You start with his jawline, the same chiseled jawline you’ve gotten so used to painting, working a robust angle where the crook of his neck meets his cheeks. Then his eyes, the piercing intensity of them, narrowing involuntarily as he poses with such skill, the same eyes which have graced the covers of magazines and album covers. His lips, plump and rosy, forming a small pout as he remains silent. And the outline of his luscious brown tresses, which fall beautifully around his face and soften the rest of his features.

He looks so enchanting this evening, like he’s straight out of one of the paintings at the museum. And your anger feels almost completely dissipated once he’s in front of you like this, just a pressing urge to be alone with him so you can communicate properly.

“Looking good,” Q says as he comes up behind you, his hands folded behind his back.

Hyunjin’s eyes dart over at Q’s standing figure, glancing over at you again while you paint. You attempt to shoot him an apologetic expression, wanting to tell him it wasn’t your idea to have Q here watching your every move. But you can’t properly convey your emotions to him with Q practically breathing down your neck.

“Beautiful work”, Q chimes in, nodding as you add the color to Hyunjin’s hair.

You can feel yourself getting frustrated with him, wishing so badly you could at least ask him to wait on the other side of the room like he normally does. But he remains there, crowding around you as you work and filling the room with his awkward presence.

“I’ll drag up a chair,” Q says with a small chuckle. “So I don’t have to stand.”

And both you and Hyunjin watch as he pulls up a folding chair, dragging it along the floor in one painfully slow motion, the sound of the legs screeching against the concrete floor as he places it next to you and takes a seat.

Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours again, cocking his head slightly as though he’s asking why you’ve allowed Q to be so overbearing today. But none of this is according to your plans, either.

“Go on,” Q urges. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

You hadn’t even realized you’ve stopped painting, grasping your brush between your fingers as you watch Q adjust in his seat and gesture to the painting.

“I think we should take a break,” Hyunjin says finally. “My leg is cramping a little.”

“Of course,” Q echoes back. “We can take five. There’s a vending machine out by the front door. And the bathrooms are on the right, by the-”

Q can’t even finish his sentence before Hyunjin’s shoving his way past the door, taking long strides away from the studio and waiting outside. He pinches the bridge of his nose in deep annoyance, letting out a deep sigh as he ponders the evening’s events so far.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you tell Q, setting your brush down and following Hyunjin. “I’ll be right back.”

And you follow his footsteps, pushing on the door to meet him outside, where he stands with one hand on his hip, the other massaging his temples frustratedly.

He looks angry, as you predict he would be, but you approach him anyway, fiddling with your thumbs as he stays quiet for a moment.

“I organized this last session to speak with you,” Hyunjin says in an annoyed tone. “I should’ve known you’d invite him.”

“I didn’t invite him,” you say quickly. “I didn’t even know he’d be here, I swear. He just stayed, and he was insistent on sitting in.”

Hyunjin finally drops his hand at his side, meeting your gaze, a softening expression on his face.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off,” he finally says. “I overstepped my boundaries. I’m just here to pay you for art. Not prod into your personal life.”

“I know,” you say back. “I wanted to explain to you, but…” your voice trails off, remembering this is technically your last session with him. And judging by the way everyone speaks of him, it’ll be near impossible to contact him again after this.

“It seems like I missed my chance,” you finish, referencing Q’s persistence.

Hyunjin glances around for a moment at the overgrown plants that line the studio windows, still damp from the evening rain. It looks like a jungle out here, the plants providing no clear view through the windows and instilling such a peaceful sense of privacy.

“Could you stay a little longer?” Hyunjin questions. “After he leaves. I just want to talk to you before I go.”

You think over his proposal for a moment- Quinton is punctual at leaving right past the hour mark. He never stays longer for hours than he needs to, but he’s no stranger to you utilizing the studio to finish up some of your work after hours.

“Sure,” you say finally. “Just pretend you’ve left after the session and I’ll tell him I need to stay longer. Don’t wait near the parking lot or he’ll see you.”

A somber smile grows on Hyunjin’s face as he nods in response.

“I’m going to call my driver and tell him I’ll be longer than the original session. Meet you back inside.”

And you make your way back into the studio, where Q is busy shuffling through papers at the table.

“Ready?” He asks, already taking strides back to his stool, positioned far too close to your canvas and Hyunjin’s seat.

“Yeah,” you reply, sighing a little as he occupies the seat next to you and glances around the room for Hyunjin.

“He’s taking a phone call,” you explain to Q. “Just give him a minute.”

And Q pushes his glasses further up his nose, humming in response as he observes your painting again.

“You’ve really mastered his features,” he comments, scanning over Hyunjin’s painted outline. “Even his eye mole is already there.”

And you scan the painting too, at the little mole painted just below Hyunjin’s left eye as he requested.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess I have.”

You wouldn’t forget it, because everything about him occupies your mind, much like his figure lives on your canvases.

It’s just half an hour more before you’re finished with Hyunjin’s painting. It’s still lacking some detail, like the contours along his face and the buttons of his cardigan. But they’re all details you give yourself time to finish later, before you wrap up your final piece and gift it to Hyunjin.

Q is relentless in his micromanaging for the remainder of the session, making useless comments about your techniques and asking Hyunjin about his own work. Hyunjin’s answers are all short and echo his clear annoyance, desperate to finish the session in order to speak with you privately. But you both remain collected in your manners, graciously conversing with Q and reaching the end of the session.

Q reviews his invoice documents as Hyunjin slings his bag on once more, standing by the door as though he’s ready to leave.

“Payment was finalized today, and your sessions are on hold until your tour is completed.”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin responds, bowing graciously. “It was a pleasure to work with both of you. I’ll be back when we’re done overseas.”

“Don’t hesitate to reach out!” Q calls, as Hyunjin makes his way past the door. He waves Q off with a small smile and then turns the corner until he’s out of sight.

“Well, there goes your best-paying client,” Q remarks with a deep sigh. “We have a lot more to pick back up on. I know Mr. Lee’s paintings are still in progress-”

“Thank you, Quinton,” you voice to him. “We’ll talk scheduling tomorrow. Please just get home safely.”

“You’re not leaving yet?” He queries, already pulling on his canvas bag and hanging his clipboard from a thumbtack on the wall.

“I’m going to finish the details while I still remember them. I’ll only be an hour longer.”

Q shrugs, making his way pivoting on his white canvas sneakers and giving you a small wave.

“Call if you need anything,” he says plainly. “Make sure to lock up.”

“I will,” you echo, craning your neck as you watch him finally exit past the door and jog down the stairs. You can’t see Hyunjin anywhere, but Q doesn’t seem to notice him if he’s still around, starting his car and speeding out of the parking lot.

And not even a full minute passes before Hyunjin makes his way back inside, shaking water off his hands.

“I stood under one of the gutters,” he says in a disgusted tone. His hair is stringy wet with rain water, and he chuckles when you meet his gaze with an amused smile.

“You’ll have to let me paint it like that, someday,” you respond, and he laughs lightly.

You take a seat on the folding chair previously occupied by Q, and Hyunjin assumes his same spot on the wooden stool. For a moment he says nothing, observing your face as you tap your fingers along the metal of the chair below you. There’s not a sound in the room between the two of you, with the exception of a small creak coming from the wooden stool as Hyunjin adjusts his long legs. He runs his hands through his hair nervously, and then he licks his dry lips with his tongue before speaking.

“I have something for you,” Hyunjin says suddenly, his voice echoing around the empty room.

He stands up to pull his bag off the floor, and then he digs around in it for a moment before pulling out his sketchbook. You watch as his slender fingers open the spiral-bound cover, flipping past pages upon pages of sketches and paintings. He flips close to the end, and then he stops, bookmarking the page with his index finger before turning the book to face you.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like it,” he says, keeping the book shut in anticipation. “It’s just something I drew.”

And then with bated breath, he opens the book out to you, adjusting the page in your view to give you a clear sight of its contents. It’s a carefully drawn sketch, of you, standing in front of an easel with a brush in your hand. Painting, like you always do. You recognize the scenery around you as the spot he took you to the other day, the long charcoal streaks perfectly capturing the grass that surrounded you and the tall trees that overlooked the hills. Although it’s a sight familiar to you, it also feels so foreign, seeing yourself through somebody else’s eyes. It feels peculiar to remember people also perceive you while you paint. It makes you feel less unimportant, a little more visible.

“Wow, Hyunjin, this is…”

“Do you like it?” Hyunjin interrupts.

“It’s so lovely. Really. I feel like I don’t deserve this.”

“You do,” he’s quick to respond. “You’ve drawn countless ones of me. And of so many other people. I wanted to gift you one of your own.”

You run your fingers along the thick paper, watching as Hyunjin tears it along its perforation and hands it to you.

“Please, keep it,” he urges.

And you bow once in response, turning to set the drawing along with your bag so you won’t forget it.

“Thank you,” you finally say. “I love it. I’m going to hang it with all my favorite art.”

Hyunjin smiles in response, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and then he shoves his hands in his pockets again, leaning against the wooden stool as a silence falls over you both.

For a moment, you ponder what to say to him, wanting to explain the events from the other evening, but unable to verbalize anything amidst your nervousness. Any way you think about it, you fear Hyunjin is going to get mad, especially considering you’d just walked away from him in the face of confrontation. But you also couldn’t help it, his accusation coming so suddenly and so boldly, regardless of it being based on any sliver of truth.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin breaks the silence. “I don’t know if I was right or not. But it wasn’t my place to ask you.”

You nod at him, initially planning to divert the topic. But you can’t any further, a growing urge inside of your chest to unveil the truth to him, knowing he’s already pieced this much of it together.

“It is my painting,” you say finally, your voice shaking a little. “I specialized in those ones before portraits. They kind of gained traction when they were first unveiled, and a lot of galleries picked them up. But they drew a lot of criticism, and it became so draining to be the topic of people’s judgment. I think being perceived so heavily just kind of… scared me off. So I shifted to portraits instead, and I no longer do public showings or galleries.”

Hyunjin doesn’t react in a shocked manner, nor does he press you for questions immediately. He just nods, taking in your words, and then he meets your gaze with a concerned expression.

“I learned so much from you,” he explains. “When your paintings were unveiled at the annual art show across the city, I was so mesmerized. They’re why I started painting, too.”

You chuckle lightly, shrugging at him as you slouch back in your seat.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do them anymore.”

You think over your response for a moment, and then you stand up from your seat, too, furrowing your brows together.

“How did you… know it was me?” You question, cocking your head slightly.

“I had a hunch when I first saw your painting techniques. But I also knew it the moment I saw your other paintings in your sketchbook,” he explains. “My favorite painting of the series is printed out and taped to my locker in our dance studio. It just felt like you. I paid attention to your art for years. I was bound to know it when I saw it.”

You nod for the umpteeth time tonight, making sense of his words as you think back to the signature you drew in front of him back in the field.

“I’m sorry I figured it out,” Hyunjin says finally. “I know this was an elaborate plan to remain anonymous and shift your focus to a new form of your work. And your portraits are amazing. But you have a real talent for those older ones. And the whole series just… it changed me.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you tell Hyunjin, looking up to meet his gaze at last. “If anyone was going to find out, I’m glad it was you.”

“You are?” Hyunjin questions, and you hum in response.

“As a client, you have this really interesting way of making me feel seen. When I’m around you, It feels a lot more comfortable from the businessmen I’m used to. It’s like…” your voice trails off as you struggle to finish your sentence. “I feel like I did when I was painting my old stuff. I can see the world beyond just portraits for a little bit.”

Hyunjin says nothing, his eyes flickering down to your lips and back at your eyes once more, which are wide with curiosity and passion as you speak. It’s such a sight to see you talk about your art with this level of devotion again, color in your face once more as you attest to your life’s work.

“Tell me,” Hyunjin begins. “Why are all your paintings so lonely?”

You chuckle softly, shrugging up at him.

“I am lonely,” you say simply.

“I’m lonely, too,” Hyunjin remarks.

And your expression turns serious again, your eyes not leaving his intense gaze as he flickers over your parted lips and takes one step closer to you. He’s towering over you at this point, a strand of hair falling into his face as he lets himself lean into you a little more, just barely grazing his lips over yours.

“Can I please kiss you?” Hyunjin asks so politely, his voice coming out in a whisper as he stops himself from pressing his lips to yours while he waits for an answer.

“Yeah” you finally reply in a whisper of your own, almost on your tippy toes to match his towering height.

And then without another second to waste, Hyunjin closes the gap between both of you, leaning down to press his plump lips to yours and embrace you in a tender, desperate kiss.

He tastes like mint, his lips working against yours with no particular rush, yet his mind still running rampant with thoughts of having you as close as possible. It feels so wrong kissing him here, in the studio you strictly use for the purposes of completing your work-related tasks and nothing more. But with Hyunjin’s lips on yours and his slender hands snaking around the small of your back to pull you closer, it also feels so thrilling, instilling a sense of desire deep within you that can only be fulfilled through acting upon the emotions rooted in your innate fascination with Hyunjin’s entire being.

And you feel visible right now, so tangible when Hyunjin’s nimble hands are running down the sides of your waist and sprawling his delicate fingers along your flesh. It’s you kissing him here, not some shell of who you are when you’re capturing the essences of millionaires on canvas. You’re not the scribbled outlines in Hyunjin’s sketches of couples consuming each other with such passion, though you mirror them. It’s you, child prodigy artist turned portrait specialist, and Hyunjin, in all his fame and splendor, who chooses to spend his free time with you in this studio teaching you about yourself the way you learn from him, too.

Hyunjin’s hands move to tug off the fabric of your cardigan, slouching it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, where it piles in disarray among the white tarp that houses loose paints. You’re pretty sure there may still be wet paint on its surface, but you don’t care, your body desperately arching into Hyunjin’s tall frame as his hands cup your cheeks to kiss you even deeper.

You can barely reach him while his frame looms over you, only able to reciprocate his kisses on the tips of your toes as he takes full control of you with his mouth. And Hyunjin seems to take notice of this, intertwining his hands in yours and pulling you down with him as he sits among the tarp and sprawls his legs out in front of him. You bestride his lean figure, balancing yourself on his lap as he adjusts himself on the concrete floor, and you both laugh when you take note of the admittedly uncomfortable positioning. It’s not meant for lovers, this dinky studio and its cold, concrete flooring. But it’s nothing that can’t be overlooked when his lips are back on yours, kissing you breathlessly and tucking strands of hair behind your ears. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, an indication by Hyunjin’s definition that he’s wanted this so badly. And he knew it from the moment you walked into the company building the first time, nervously preparing yourself out in the hallway like you weren’t going to be an absolute pro at your craft the way he now knows you are. He also knew it every time he observed your paintings, both your old ones and the newer ones that capture Hyunjin with such ease, every minute detail that builds up his intense stare only to break him down and soften him, translating this multifaceted version of him only you seem to visualize. And he gains confirmation of it when he’s finally acting upon his urges, your hands snaking around the back of his neck and moving in tandem with his hungry kisses against yours, grasping at his flesh like you’re trying to prove to yourself he’s real, too.

His sweater is the second article of clothing to go, your bodies only separating from one another briefly as you guide the knit fabric off over him and discard it beside you in the tarp. Your hands find his torso reluctantly, running your fingers along his flesh as though asking for his permission. And Hyunjin smiles when you do, placing his hands over yours and pressing down a little firmer for you, so that you can feel every inch of his toned body. He wields the body of a dancer, delicate curves that run along his sculpted obliques and highlight the years of intense training he’s done. His body feels strong underneath you, but he still feels soft, his touches exuding the gentle fondness he possesses for you.

And you’re kissing him again, all while his hands find your tank top and he separates to undress you, pulling it off over your head and tossing it aside. His hands are quick to find your breasts, splaying them over the mounds of your chest and massaging gently as his kisses turn hungrier. You can feel him getting hard underneath you, and you can hear his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he struggles to contain his growing bulge while you straddle him. But you indulge him even further, undoing the clasp of your bra with your own hand as you continue kissing him. Hyunjin doesn’t notice until your hand reaches out to toss your bra aside, a gentle rustle emitting from beside you as it joins the pile of discarded articles of clothing. And he separates to take in the sight of you, raised goosebumps along your bare skin and your nipples aroused for him, the cold air grazing over your chest as you wait for him to resume his touches. Hyunjin gasps a little, leaning forward to take one in his mouth, and then he begins to suck harshly as his tongue swirls around your bud generously and trails saliva along your skin. You moan at the sensation, Hyunjin digging his fingernails into the small of your back and leaving little crescent marks as his sucking resumes harshly, soft moans bubbling from the back of his throat, too, as he stays latched to you. And then he pulls away to give attention to the other one, his teeth grazing the tip of your nipple before sucking again, his eyes shutting as he relishes in the taste of your skin in his mouth. Hyunjin’s hips rock gently against you as he does, chasing the friction of your legs around his crotch as he grows even harder beneath you, desperate for some release. And then he pulls away finally, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with lust and a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. You bring a thumb to his forehead, swiping the bead off his blushed skin, before cupping your hands around his cheeks and bringing him in for a kiss.

“Please let me fuck you,” Hyunjin says sheepishly against your lips, groaning lightly when he feels you squeeze your thighs once against his crotch.

“You want to?” You ask teasingly, massaging your hands up and down the sides of his neck as he nods eagerly.

“I really, really want to,” Hyunjin responds, shutting his eyes as you squeeze your legs again and pepper his face in kisses, trailing from his forehead, to his cheeks and down his neck. Hyunjin leans back on the palms of his hands in a state of pure bliss, taking in the sensation he’s only dreamt of until now. And when you nibble down on his neck, beginning to suck a small bruise into his skin, he sits up suddenly, his hands finding yours and pushing you away gently.

“Wait,” Hyunjin says. “I can’t… do hickeys. Company’s orders,” he admits, a little defeated, and you nod your head quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you remark. “I totally forgot.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin almost cuts you off with a kiss, leaning forward and sitting up on his knees. He guides you down onto the tarp, hoisting himself up over you so that his figure is now hovering over yours, and then his hands find your pants.

“You can do hickeys though,” Hyunjin says in an amused tone, trailing kisses down your neck the same way you did him, and latching his teeth onto your flesh to suck a line of purple bruises. You chuckle underneath him, the sensation tickling a little, but still adding to the generous pool already formed between your legs. And as Hyunjin presses into you with his kisses, you can feel his erection graze your upper thigh, once more seeking the friction of your body for some sense of relief as he longs to feel you around his hardened cock.

“Hyunjin,” you voice as he kisses you, and he hums quietly in response.

“You’re hard,” you remark, your eyes flickering to the tent pitched underneath his jeans.

“Sorry,” he replies, pulling away with a worried expression in his eyes, and you shake your head quickly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure. “I just want to take care of it for you.”

And your hands find your own jeans, pulling them off your legs and tossing them aside. Hyunjin’s eyes skim over your lace panties, the trim almost see through with delicate feminine patterns, and he begins to undo the button of his jeans, too.

He kisses you as he snakes off his own pants, not wanting to separate from you any more as his eagerness grows to be as close to you as possible. And when he’s finally letting his hard cock rub against the fabric of your panties, moaning softly at the sensation, he knows he won’t be able to take it much longer if he doesn’t make love to you right here in the studio.

So his hands work to pull off his boxers, finally freeing his erection against his abdomen and gasping with the cool air grazes the tip of his cock. You slide off your own panties as well, tossing them aside and letting his cock rest against your bare flesh now, his precum painting your clit with his preemptive arousal as he ruts against you. Your flesh is slick with his arousal and yours, the existing lube between both of you allowing your skin to glide upon one another so effortlessly, the same way your lips work against each other. And he continues to push his hardened length against you until he’s halfway inside of you, your cunt taking him with no struggle as he thrusts inside of you now. You adjust to his thick girth easily, his length seemingly never ending as he pushes deeper and deeper into you. And then he gives one particularly hard thrust, bottoming out inside of you and coaxing a fervent moan out of you.

“Is it okay?” Hyunjin asks, wincing at the sensation of your walls hugging his erection.

“So good,” you whine, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Feels so good.”

And he begins to move in and out of you at a slow pace, trying his best to stave off the orgasm he’s already close to reaching as he fucks you, filling your cunt entirely with his long cock and bottoming out every time he thrusts himself back in.

And he tries to kiss you, but he can’t, his mouth simply looming over yours in its parted position as he echoes his moans into you and lets his saliva-coated lips graze over you. He looks like the subject of an erotic painting himself, eyebrows arched up so artistically with every thrust, melting into your touch as you run your hands through his hair. His initial dominance over you is quickly shifted to that of submission to your mind and your body, little whines leaving his lips as he lets you consume him whole and mold him between in your touch, like he’s made of clay and you’re the sculptor. His lanky body seems to extend as he sways his hips into yours, little dips from the pads of your fingers embedding into his pale skin. He folds effortlessly above you, the points of his elbows jutting out as he steadies his body over you, like he’s made of wire and positioned to balance over you so perfectly, not very sturdy, and yet bent and snapped just right so that he can remain glued to you. And if you were to climb out of your body and paint this exact moment, all you would see are an indistinguishable, amorphous set of limbs that seem to dissolve into each other like hues of paint on a palette. Two colors swirling around to make one, the two of you like primary colors that create endless possibilities when mixed together like this, offspring of a hundred different shades, painting the darkened studio around you with your yearning for one another.

And as Hyunjin brings a hand to stroke your cheek gently, a smile grows on his breathless lips as he realizes he’s brushed a thick stroke of wet paint along your skin. The indigo stripe contrasts coldly against your flesh, still glistening in its freshness like he’s just begun on a blank canvas.

“It’s paint,” Hyunjin says as you gasp at the cold sensation, smiling too, when he swipes it again with his thumb and flashes it down at you.

And you chuckle lightly below him, taking note of the bright orange streak that lines his neck, just below his adam’s apple. You’re not sure when it got there, or whether it was from you or him, but you run a finger through it too, bringing it to his cheek to rub your thumb lovingly across his face and paint it there, too. And in one swift motion, Hyunjin swipes the palm of his hand along the tarp, coating it in hues of indigo and deep violet and gray, cupping a hand around your breast to coat it in the same wet substance. And you do the same, your hand dipping generously into the myriad of reds and fuchsia paints that live below you, running a hand down his chest and painting a long stripe along his toned torso.

You both laugh, as he picks up his pace again, pushing himself to the hilt inside of you, the paints melting together with your sweat as he fucks you rhythmically again. And like two blank canvases finally being put to use, new colors blossom between the two of your longing bodies, shades of magenta and blue-gray making themselves known across your breasts and his torso. The colors are vibrant and robust, transferring life from the dull tarp of the studio floor onto blank slates of skin. You wish you could step out of your body and capture the colors forever, mix paints together into little jars and name every shade after every feeling Hyunjin’s ever given you. Longing, lust, fear, fascination, infatuation, obsession.

“I think I’m obsessed with you,” Hyunjin breathes into your mouth so desperately. “It’s indescribable, the things you do to me.”

He lets his hands intertwine with yours again, giving them a small squeeze as he fucks you a little faster now and lets his groans shift into small whimpers that escape his lips.

“Please let me cum inside you,” Hyunjin begs, his cock slipping against your cervix with ease as wettened noises of his arousal pooling against yours fill the room. “Please, please, I promise to take care of you, baby. I feel like I belong here.”

He’s a whimpering mess for you now, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he fucks you and lets his hands explore every inch of your body. You want to cry, too, at the realization again that this all feels so tangible, that he makes you feel so seen when he’s hovering over you, placing open-mouthed kisses onto yours and letting his melodic moans fill your ears. The paint between you serving as proof that he’s touched you so desperately and wholly, creating art together in the confined space of your otherwise dull studio. And you want to feel him cum inside you, too, as a final reminder that you’re visible to him, that you’re no longer a fleeting, anonymous artist when you’re with Hyunjin. That he sees you for exactly you are, he knows your deepest secrets, and yet still he holds you, whispering words of permanence in your ear and letting you mold him like art. He’s an artist on his own, and he’s art at the hands of you, both of which draw you to him in ways you can’t begin to fathom, unlike anything you’ve felt before. And he teaches you that you’re an artist on your own, and art at the hands of a lover, both of which you hadn’t considered before Hyunjin, deeming yourself invisible in your comfortable solitude to the vast world around you. But the two coincide to echo the same sentiment that he teaches you exactly the way he also learns from you.

“Cum inside me,” you breathe desperately, grasping his hands a little tighter as he fucks you at a faster pace now.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin confirms, still staving off his orgasm until your verbal consent is heard.

“Yes,” you respond, wrapping your legs around his waist and making your best attempt to kiss him through his release. And you do, your lips moving against his in labored breaths, as he finally twitches inside of you and paints the inside of your listless body, hues of glazed white arousal filling your aching cunt as he whimpers through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin, breathes, giving a few more thrusts as he slows, his arousal dripping onto the tarp below you as he pulls out. And he rolls over to lie beside you, a mess of paint streaks sprawled out along his skin as his chest rises and falls with slowing breaths. The two of you say nothing for a moment, your eyes glued to a blank canvas housed on an easel in front of you.

It’s an almost blinding shade of white, begging for an ounce of color like the shades that now live on your skin. And through your heavy breaths, you picture the endless possibilities that can fill in the empty spaces above you. Grasslands, trees, oceans, clear waters and a vast, endless blue sky…

There is no overseas schedule Hyunjin has to tend to. You’re already aware of this, Hyunjin explaining to you that he made it up to put the sessions on hold and to keep Q from pressing him with questions.

But he resumes the sessions after a few weeks of putting them on pause, because he can’t seem to stay away from you any longer.

Hyunjin reckons he has a couple dozen of your paintings in his room now, all similar portraits of his face, portraits you capture in your signature formal essence, his face staring straight ahead or off in the distance, complete with the fine details of his long dark hair and the mole under his eye.

Only now that Hyunjin is back, Q is present at nearly every appointment. You’re not sure why things changed, and Q maintains a new stance to Hyunjin that the guidelines are based on adjusted company policies. But Hyunjin will do just about anything to be close to you- even if it means putting up with your obnoxious boss breathing down your neck every minute while you paint him.

The sessions are somehow even more unnerving than they used to be, Hyunjin still making every valiant effort to convey his obsession with you through intense stares and little gestures only the two of you can read. Q is obstinate in his ways, his gaze constantly flickering between you and your paintings to ensure everything is going swimmingly. But Hyunjin wishes so badly he could spend the entirety of these sessions alone with you, getting to break down your walls and see you for the person he knows you are when you’re not doing portraits under Q’s all-seeing eye.

With every passing day, and every passing session, Hyunjin grows a deep hatred for Q, despising the way he watches you work and chimes in to converse with the two of you. And he knows he shouldn’t, aware that Q is just your boss and nothing more. Something you’ve reiterated to him time and time again, but he can’t help it, desperate to have you all to himself every second of the day, a deep-seated longing to protect you from the hurt you’ve been dealt and wanting so badly for you to break free from the monotonous cycle you’ve confined yourself to of painting for anyone except yourself.

You can tell Hyunjin hates Q, judging by the way he doesn’t so much look in his direction when he arrives for his sessions. But you can’t convey the slightest bit of reaction in front of either of them, too scared of the prospect of what would happen to your career if anyone were to find out you’re fucking a client.

You maintain a professional composure around Hyunjin, despite the knowing stares he gives you and the sketches you catch him slipping into your purse when Q isn’t looking. At times he’s not around, you complete your daily tasks, well-mannered and organized to the clients who hire you, shooting them kind smiles and complimenting their black business attire when they show up for the evening. When the days draw to a close, Q is punctual as always, leaving just minutes past your last appointment and taking his work home with him.

And when his sleek black car turns out of the corner of the parking lot, Hyunjin slips inside like a mere shadow on the wall, quick to seduce you all over again and gift you with all of his recent sketches. Some of them are portraits of you, smiling or focused on your work. Some of them are erotic nude shots of you, lying on the tarp of the studio or touching yourself the way he pictures you do when you’re all alone. And some of them include both of you, your bodies tangled desperately into each other and drowning in your yearning and love. Sometimes nude, his hands on yours and fucking you mercilessly. Sometimes fully clothed, his lips on yours and bundled up in winter clothes. But always together, always desperate in your touches and always so tangible. You reckon he’s persuaded you into being fucked you on every surface of the dingy studio by now- against the canvases, on the tarp- several times, on the table Q typically occupies and just about every stool available to the two of you. And while Q is oblivious about why you stay a little longer every night, Hyunjin is both calculated and persuasive in returning so you two can get some time alone, time that always ends with his seed dripping out of your still-aching cunt, bodies entangled somewhere within the studio and covered in fresh swatches of paint.

He may have somewhat of an obsession with you, but life is teeming around the studio when Hyunjin is near, the colors and shapes of your work much more robust and vibrant when he’s striding around the space commenting on all his favorite pieces of yours. And you relish in stories of his days, typically spent at fan events or at dance practices. Having him return feels like having your physical figure return home to you, the world in complete equilibrium when he’s near, much less lonely than the one you’re used to.

“I could watch you do this forever,” Hyunjin remarks, watching you glide a brush along your canvas, filling in the shadows of a figure on the canvas in front of you.

And this one’s not a portrait- it’s a watercolor figure, much like the ones you used to paint back then, the technique coming back to you with ease as you highlight the convexes of a body mirroring yours and add varying hues as highlights.

Per Hyunjin’s request, you paint the figures occasionally, only because he’s repeatedly expressed his fascination at watching you complete the process in a live session. The paintings reminiscent of your old work aren’t for sale, nor are they critiqued by anyone except for yourself. And they’re certainly not done with the knowledge of Q, who would turn irate at you utilizing the studio’s supplies for anything but portraits.

They’re just for his viewing pleasure, a little exchange you indulge him in as he continues to gift you with sketches of his own.

Hyunjin’s arms snake around your waist as you paint, his head resting on your shoulder as he watches you dip your brush into a mug of water and dilute the caramel shade that taints the bristles.

“Will you add a second one?” Hyunjin asks in a curious whisper, his lips grazing your ear as you paint.

“A second one?” You echo.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, working a trail of kisses down the shell of your ear. “This one’s you. Will you add me?”

You chuckle lightly, dipping your brush into a warmer shade of brown and swirling it around to gather the color on the fine hairs.

“So they can resemble us,” Hyunjin says, his kisses traveling even lower. “Paint me fucking you the way you like it.”

You chuckle softly again, not missing the way Hyunjin’s hands travel to your skirt, flipping it up to graze his hands along the mound of your upper thigh.

“Hyunjin, I-” you begin to say. But you can’t answer him, shutting your eyes in pleasure as you hear him unzip his jeans behind you and position himself.

“Keep painting,” he says in a sultry whisper, pumping himself lightly behind you as he pulls your panties down.

And you try, bringing your brush to the canvas to add a second figure like he’s requested. But you can hardly make it past the first few strokes before Hyunjin’s sliding into your dripping cunt, letting his hands grip your waist to steady himself as he begins to move.

“Go on,” Hyunjin encourages, as his hips thrust in and away from your trembling figure, your hands trying their very best to keep hold of the little wooden paint brush and fill in his form.

You manage to add a subtle few streaks, beginning the amorphous outline of Hyunjin’s hair, his tall lanky figure towering over yours and taking you with such desperation.

But you don’t get very far before Hyunjin is angling your face to kiss your drooly lips, his hands now finding purchase on your breasts as he continues to fuck you. And all of this is wrong, you know very well. You’re not supposed to be sleeping with a client like this, much less one this powerful, this rich and who wields so much he can hold against you. One slip up and Hyunjin can go tell the world about how you’re the artist who disappeared to sell yourself out to rich men for all their selfish needs. And any option you have to defend yourself would never hold up against his wealthy corporation and all its investors.

But you also can’t help but give into his urges when he’s around, his lips so tantalizing on yours and his cock filling you so fully and completely when he has his way with you.

Maybe it’s not even just about the sex for you- maybe it also has something to do with his stories you live through vicariously, listening to tales of the outside world while you’re trapped in this studio or at the businesses of wealthy men. It’s also the drawings he makes for you, ones you find yourself staring at for hours after he leaves, like proof that he was here and he touched you. The drawings are you in your most tangible form, his hands on yours and his lips on the curves of your neck. It’s like a glimpse into a version of yourself that ceases to exist when he’s absent. And it’s the late hours of the night he spends asking so politely to watch you paint your older work, always so fascinated with the way your mind conjures up varying lonely figures crafted from watercolors and a nylon bristle brush. Older work you hadn’t realized you missed so dearly until you began producing it for Hyunjin again.

But you know that to Hyunjin this is just a exhilarating idea for him, to view your art the same way he carves out a couple hours each week for a museum tour or to sketch in one of his books. He probably finds it more convenient to fuck you here where nobody’s around than to stroke himself in a dorm he shares with three other men. And you can feel it in the way he so desperately pleads you to paint for him or cum for him- that his obsession with you is less about you, and more about the thought of you.

Maybe this is just the result of Hyunjin uncovering a secret nobody else paid close enough attention to connect you to. Or the thrill of you being his favorite artist for years, and realizing you’re finally tangible in front of him, real, and not disappeared like he previously took you for. You reckon it must be the same phenomenon other girls feel toward him, getting intimate with somebody they idolize, desperately cupping his face like it might dissipate if they don’t grasp hard enough. But just the thought of somebody doesn’t imply love. It doesn’t imply a mutual understanding, and it certainly doesn’t imply permanence for either party involved. When he’s gone again, you’ll cease to be real like you already are when he’s not around. And then every vision you have will be rooted in unfaltering solitude once more, your anonymous life resuming again.

“Will you cum for me?” Hyunjin asks, and you snap back to the feeling of his cock twitching in your dripping cunt as he grips your waist. “God, you don’t understand what you do to me.”

You can’t give him an answer before you feel him reaching his release inside of you, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into you and slowing his pace again as he moves your hair away from your face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Hyunjin says sheepishly as he pulls out. “Sit down for me,” he orders between kisses to your neck, trailing down to your shoulder, grazing his hands along your waist and groaning against you.

And he’s already guiding you back to one of the stools, kneeling between your legs and spreading you for him, your glistening cunt on full display for him to taste.

“Want you to cum for me,” Hyunjin whispers, before positioning one of your legs on the wooden dowels of the stool. You can’t verbalize anything to him before his tongue is darting into your entrance, lapping his own release out of you and trailing up to give attention to your swollen clit. He works you in such desperate motions, tongue working your core like a starved animal and eagerly trying to coax an orgasm out of your trembling body. When his arousal is effectively brought out of your tight cunt and painting the tip of his tongue white, he coats your clit in it, giving kitten licks to your bundle of nerves as he hums against your flesh and whispers little pleas for you to let go.

And between your pussy still clenching down around the sheer memory of his cock inside of you mere minutes ago, and his plump lips kissing all over your wettened core, you do let go for him, dribbling cum down the edge of the wooden stool and threading your fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down to your thighs in encouragement.

“So good,” Hyunjin murmurs as he comes up for air, intertwining his fingers in yours as you get cleaned up. You shoot him a little “thank you”, and Hyunjin presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand as he nods, getting dressed once more and tucking his softened cock back into his boxers.

“Come here,” he states. “I want to ask you something.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“It’s exciting,” Hyunjin retorts.

He guides you to his same wooden stool, where he climbs upon the seat and then takes your hands in his again as you stand in front of him, pressing a small kiss to your palm before speaking.

“You know I care about you, right?” He begins, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you reply.

“And you know I love your art.”

“So you’ve told me,” you say, and Hyunjin brings your hand up to press another kiss to your palm.

“I have a proposal for you,” he then says. “And I just want you to hear me out.”

Your heart sinks at his words, already fearing the worst as you wait for him to elaborate. You pray he hasn’t done anything to reveal your identity, or to make these secret erotic sessions public, knowing you’d both never live a normal life again at either of the instances occurring.

“What is it?” You ask Hyunjin, heart racing in your chest.

He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand soothingly, trying to calm you down before he speaks.

“I privately sponsor the art gallery every year,” he begins. “I put some funding toward a painting of my choice and it allows those artists to have their pieces displayed for the winter show and make connections,” he continues.

“Okay…”

“And I want to sponsor you this year,” Hyunjin finishes, giving your hands a little squeeze.

“Hyunjin, there can't be an installment of your face at the art museum. People will get suspicious.”

“Not my face,” he says reassuringly. “Your art. Like the ones you used to do.”

And you feel your throat dry up at his words, the exact thing you’d feared coming to fruition.

“I can’t,” you’re quick to say.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t do those paintings anymore. I can paint you, or another person or whoever. But I can’t do one of my old ones.”

“But your old ones are beautiful,” Hyunjin says. “It doesn’t have to be your old series. You can start a new one. Do something entirely different.”

“I don’t want to do something entirely different, Hyunjin. It’s a chapter of my life that’s been closed already. You know I don’t do those anymore.”

Hyunjin maintains his collected composure, his eyes softening as he speaks to you.

“You’re not happy doing portraits. I know you. You have a spark in you when you’re painting for yourself, and people love them. You deserve to be doing what you love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, letting go of Hyunjin’s grasp and shaking your head. “I’m so grateful for the offer, but I can’t put myself back out there again.”

“You can still be anonymous,” Hyunjin offers. “Some artists I’ve sponsored choose to remain anonymous and only reveal to serious patrons of their art. I can make sure they don’t find out who you are.”

“It’s me and my art I don’t want to be seen,” you emphasize.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything now, rising from the wooden stool and reaching for the iced coffee he’s placed on the table beside you.

“Okay. I won’t press it any further.”

He swirls the cup of ice around in his hand, and then he hangs his head in defeat.

“Hyunjin, seriously. Thank you for the offer. It’s sweet of you to consider it. But I’m not ready yet.”

He shoves a hand in his pocket and cocks his head slightly.

“Is this because of Quinton?”

“What? Hyunjin, I already told you our relationship is strictly professional-”

“Not romantically,” Hyunjin continues. “You’re like a slave to him. You do everything he tells you to do. He probably doesn’t let you leave this studio.

You’re quiet again, not answering him immediately. No, you don’t stay here at Q’s behest. But it just feels safer to follow his advice. He was just a client when you met him, but he took you under his wing to get you where you are now. He runs all your schedules, he books your appointments for you, he even gives his say on most of your work. He’s the only part of your old life that’s remained the same, despite your transition to portraits, and cutting him off would be stepping into a world completely unbeknownst to you.

“No,” you say finally, but you don’t expand further upon your stance.

“You’re so lonely here,” Hyunjin responds frustratedly. “And yet you follow orders from the same person whose job it is to keep you invisible.”

“Why should I follow your orders?” You retort.

“Because I love you.”

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you reply frustratedly, finally feeling the anger overtake you as you continue your angered speech. “You love the idea of me. You love the idea of escaping your crazy rich life to try and resolve the tortured artist you’re so infatuated with. You love the idea of fulfilling somebody’s life with your presence because it’s all you do for a career. I’m not the person I was when I was doing those paintings- I do portraits now, and I work under somebody who knows what’s best for me. And you’re just a client I’m sleeping with.”

Hyunjin purses his lips, amused you would stoop that low for the purposes of declining his offer. And then he shakes his head as he speaks again.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I’m just some client you’re sleeping with. I never tried to push you out of this line of work you hate so much, or drew you on every page of my sketch book or made love to you in every square inch of this goddamn studio. I’m not proposing this because I care about you and I want you to do what you love, it’s because I’m just a client you’re sleeping with.”

And he pivots on his heel to exit the studio, taking rushed steps toward the door as tears brim the corners of your eyes.

“Hyunjin, wait,” you call desperately.

“I see you,” Hyunjin says suddenly, turning around to face you. “I see all of you. Your work didn’t just materialize by some anonymous form. You’re a painter, a really talented one, and I don’t want you to feel this all-consuming solitude anymore. I say that because I love you, not just because I’m sleeping with you. If you want to remain invisible to everybody except Quinton, then be my guest. Just know that I tried.”

And without another word, the studio is empty again, the tip of your brush still dripping with the remnants of the warm brown color and every intention to add a second figure to your painting.

You don’t speak with Hyunjin any more that evening. Or the next day. Or perhaps for a whole week following the conversation, for that matter. The reality is that you want to partake in his offer, the thought of it candidly piquing your interest to paint something other than another rich man. And it would be nice to watch your art be displayed for people to see just once, rather than to live on the walls of a company where only people within a certain tax bracket will ever grace your work. But what you reiterated to Hyunjin still stands- you’re scared to venture out into the competitive world of art galleries again. Your old series was a hit, sure, but it was also torn down relentlessly by those who didn’t understand it and those who simplified it down to its medium. And it was a much harder endeavor to make people understand your watercolor forms, unlike the portraits Q advises you continue producing.

But you can’t seem to stop thinking of Hyunjin’s proposal as a whole, understanding very well that his offer is one of the kindest things he could propose to you at this place in your life. He sees you- all of you, and subsequently he knows that you’re unhappy in this monotonous abyss of adding new features to the same faces every day. The way a change for you is determined only by a shift in a client’s pose or even just an addition of their pet- it’s all so repetitive, exactly what art isn’t supposed to be.

Maybe you’re just scared of getting rejected again, or perhaps it’s that you’re scared of finally being seen again, anonymous or not, putting yourself on the map again and being perceived.

“I want a painting,” Hyunjin says as he saunters into the studio one evening, throwing off his bag and dragging a stool to the middle of the room.

“Oh- Hyunjin, pleased to see you again,” Q remarks, bowing and giving you a nervous look.

Hyunjin doesn’t even acknowledge him, keeping a stern gaze locked on yours as if he’s challenging you.

“We have the evening booked today,” Q begins. “But I’m sure we can accommodate something for next week-”

“I need it now,” Hyunjin replies. “I’m willing to pay five times your asking price.”

And you narrow your eyes at Hyunjin, knowing he’s making his best attempt to provoke you and disrupt the work you’re completing per Q’s orders.

“How do you want it?” Q then asks, not hesitating to put aside your entire evening for Hyunjin’s offer.

“I want to be in a suit. And I want to be holding a wad of cash. I want to look like an investor.”

“Interesting,” Q says, his gaze flickering to yours. “She can do it though.”

Q turns to face you, giving you a knowing look as he raises his eyebrows. “I’ll clear your calendar for today and we can stay and work on this piece.”

And Hyunjin looks to you, too, waiting for you to protest, to say something along the lines of a refusal to partake in the outlandish task. But you avert both of their gazes, readying your paint palette and gesturing to one of the stools in front of you.

“Have a seat,” you say plainly, void of any emotion or desire to fulfill the task. And by the way Q hovers over you, void of autonomy, too, Hyunjin concludes.

“How are things at the company?” Q asks Hyunjin, leaning in a little too close to you as you begin painting long strokes on the canvas.

“Fine,” Hyunjin says, not taking his gaze off yours. His eyes are narrowed like he’s challenging you, yet you don’t give him the reaction he searches for.

“You must be busy,” Q remarks, his hands folded behind his back. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you’re running her schedule like the fucking military,” Hyunjin retorts, cocking an eyebrow at him. Q takes a sharp breath, but he doesn’t argue, doing his best to keep in line at your highest-paying client.

“She’s pretty busy,” Q replies reluctantly. “But it’s nothing she can’t handle.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, again waiting for you to chime in, but you still don’t, working on adding details to Hyunjin’s tresses on the canvas.

“This will be my final session,” Hyunjin then says, and your head snaps to meet his gaze.

“Is that so?” Q questions. “Going overseas again?”

“Indefinitely,” Hyunjin replies. “Not overseas, I’ve just no need for the paintings anymore.”

Your lips part as though to ask if he’s serious, but you can’t, not with Q here alongside you.

“I have so many of them now,” Hyunjin remarks, not taking his eyes off you. “It’s been a lovely time with the two of you, but I won’t be returning after this evening. I hope you understand.”

“Please don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s anything we can provide you with,” Q voices. “I hope we’ll remain connected with the peers at your company.”

“Oh, you will,” Hyunjin replies. “I’m sure the investors and the senior managers will love portraits of their own. She’ll have a lifetime of portraits to complete when I’m gone.”

You can feel a pit forming in your stomach, queasy at the thought of carrying on this task of capturing rich businessmen and ceasing your sessions with Hyunjin. He’s unmoving in his attempts to make you revisit your old art. But his begging has also been eye-opening, making you realize just how much you hate this line of work and having Q breathe down your neck.

Hyunjin has a point, you’re unhappy doing portraits. You love the watercolor figures you paint, you love your time with Hyunjin and the feeling of unending curiosity he instills in you. There’s no solitude when he’s around, filling every aspect of your life with such color and vibrancy like the figures you paint. And you learn from him just as much as he learns from you.

But the fear remains, the feeling of hopelessness remains, the perception that Hyunjin is only obsessed with an idea of you and that your career is far gone from the watercolor figures you painted so long ago.

And of course, that you require Q’s uncompromising presence in your life to be even close to successful. He’s the one who transitioned you to a successful career of portraits after your previous line of work fell through. And you’re not sure you can shift to a new focus without him to guide you.

“Hyunjin,” you say suddenly, garnering the attention of both he and Q.

“What is it?” Q replies, as though you’re referring to him. And you wish he wouldn’t be so… disruptive, making you lose your train of thought as Hyunjin waits for your words with bated breath.

“I’ve completed the initial outline,” you settle on saying. “It should be sent over to you in a couple days.”

And he nods, a somber, thin-lipped expression on his face as he understands you’re never going to divert from this path of fear you walk, one you’re forcing yourself to stick to.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin responds, getting up to leave again. “I’ll see you around.”

Private events are seldom actually private for Hyunjin. The interior of the gallery is organized accordingly so that patrons can mingle with their respective artists and all of the prestigious guests invited.

But the exterior is only private up the crowd control stanchions, where beyond it live hordes of people wielding all sorts of fancy cameras and cell phones, snapping photo after photo and analyzing every one of Hyunjin’s movements.

Hyunjin’s attending an art gallery today, the crowds murmur amongst each other, the message echoing all over the city and overshadowing the art itself, which hasn’t even been unveiled yet.

His departure from the black limousine he arrives in is met instantly with deafening screams, the repetitive click of camera shutters and commands for him to angle his face every which way. The people stop to stare at his fitted black suit, the long black hair he sports styled slick out of his face and expensive jewelry he flaunts as a clear indicator that he’s a sponsor of the evening’s show, alongside a long list of other wealthy individuals.

His hands remain tucked in the pockets of his black slacks, giving a gracious bow to the fans before making his way inside to the main event.

And the gallery is significantly more packed than he’s used to, people crowding every square inch of the marbled floors and admiring the intricate pieces of art. The curtains are pulled back neatly so that guests can roam freely among the halls, easels set up in neat rows and canvases mounted on walls to display all the sponsored works of art.

Hyunjin is quick to gravitate to the long white table pushed against the wall by the entrance, set up with generous servings of hors d’oeuvres. And in a bout of nervousness, he’s sampling the cheese platters and the varying flavors of wine, sighing as he swirls a glass of cherry merlot between his slender fingers.

He was supposed to be here sponsoring you tonight, unveiling your paintings for the world to appreciate once again, and so that he’d finally put forth the notion that you’re more than the halls of law offices your portraits exist in.

But that was three weeks ago now- three weeks in which Hyunjin failed to visit you like he’d warned he would. And three weeks in which neither of you reconnected, letting the temporary affair between you dissipate like the sketches he stopped producing of you, like the portraits he finished collecting from you. And like the hope he held onto that maybe you’d come around and entertain a life in which you aren’t so comfortable being invisible and inhibited at the hands of your Q. But that never came around, and although Hyunjin is frustrated with you, he misses you just as much, knowing very well he could spend a lifetime learning from you if only you let him. Now in the gallery he once dragged you to, where he admitted to having learned the secret you hid, he can only pray you know that he sees you for who you are, and not some invisible producer of your static portraits. That a life lived in complete solitude doesn’t have to be the answer to succumbing to your fears, even if it feels more comfortable than the perception and the critiques of others. And that although the idea of you was a lovely one indeed, he loves every part of you, not just the concept of you- and pushing you to grow was his way of making it known.

The gallery hosts are quick to introduce the paintings and their respective sponsors, a variety of them being under anonymous titles and names as they choose to remain hidden, too. But Hyunjin doesn’t wait around to listen to much of it, examining the paintings on his own in between nervous trips to the snack table, where he gets tipsy off a little too much cherry wine. It’s his first time not being a sponsor to a specific painting, instead having opted to donate a large sum to the gallery in his company’s name. But after you declined his invitation to be sponsored, Hyunjin didn’t see it fit to highlight the work of any other painting. It’s you he wants to see up there, proudly showing off your work and making a name for yourself in the industry again the way he knows you secretly want to. And he so badly wishes he could stop by your studio one last time to tell you that he’s not sure he can ever sponsor another painting again if it’s not one of yours. Your art circles his mind relentlessly, as do your words, your heart, your body and your real, tangible presence.

“Nice, isn’t it?” A voice says from beside Hyunjin. He almost jumps, the wine making him a little tired at this point in the evening, not having socialized with many people while he stands in the corner of the room and takes in the sight.

“Quinton?” Hyunjin voices plainly, scowling at his uptight demeanor as he leans against the table beside Hyunjin and crosses his legs.

“So nice to see our former highest-painting client,” Q responds. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve never seen you at one of these,” Hyunjin chimes in. He then looks around the room frantically, thinking maybe you’d accompanied him to the event tonight.

“Don’t bother,” Q says, as he takes a sip of wine. “I’m alone. Just scoping out the competition.”

He’s quiet for a moment, swirling his glass of wine around in his hand before speaking again.

“She never had a portrait at one of these gallery shows. Said they felt too commercial. Of course her old stuff was shown just about everywhere. I think she was just scared.”

“You mean- you knew?” Hyunjin questions.

“Of course I knew. I led her career’s entire rebranding. Of course she didn’t love the portraits, but the money came to us like you wouldn’t believe. And coupled with her fear of these gallery walks and important figures, we had no choice but to compromise. I got her the opportunity to paint people like you. And she did all the work.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, simply shaking his head and crossing his legs, too.

“She had a lot of people who believed in her art.”

Q shrugs. “She was free to walk whenever she wanted. Her fear kept her controlled, not me. I’m just another businessman for all she cares.”

And Hyunjin gives a small nod, finishing the last of his wine.

“Look, I can’t help but feel like I owe you an apology,” Hyunjin says finally. “I was just a little jealous whenever you were around. Not that there was anything going on, I just mean-”

“You think you’re the first client to have taken a liking to her?” Q interrupts. “I’ve seen it a million times. People want to take advantage and they get obsessed, and they start pulling crazy shit like offering five times the pay for a simple portrait.”

Q looks down to examine his leather shoes, adjusting the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose. And then he sighs frustratedly before speaking again.

“I would know,” Q then says, doing his best to avert Hyunjin’s gaze. “She’s a tough one to crack. She loves her paintings, and being alone and I don’t think she’d ever give the time of day to a good man. Not even if he followed her to her next endeavor.”

Hyunjin nods at the marbled floor, and then his head snaps in the direction of Q’s somber gaze.

The way he speaks of you, the way he gets a little too close to you for Hyunjin’s liking- Hyunjin finally thinks he understands. It’s not just the fear of being perceived that keeps you from picking up your old life again. It’s the fear of abandoning Q, who so arrogantly feels like he’s owed something for helping get you back on your feet after you shifted your work’s focus.

He’s the only other person who knows your secret, and he holds it over you like it makes him more important than anyone else in your life. He reduces you to a lifetime of following his orders, likely because he’s bitter that he was never the solution to your loneliness. A wealthy businessman himself, it was Q who kept returning for paintings once not long ago, accumulating piles of your work and making every last effort to pursue you. But when he wasn’t successful, he convinced you that you were right about your fears, that it was your best move to take his advice and he’d keep you turning a generous profit as long as you stuck by him. Q was so hopelessly devoted to an idea of you, and when he couldn’t help you overcome your fears, he became the catalyst for your fears, instead.

“You and I are a lot of the same,” Q voices. “Two rich men with dreams just out of our reach. It seems money can’t buy you everything, after all.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, swallowing nervously and looking at Q. And then Q shakes his head as he sets his glass of wine down on the table.

“Only I’ve never seen her willingly paint the same client so many times the way she does with you,” he finishes. “I guess she really liked being seen, after all.”

Q adjusts his glasses once more, and Hyunjin feels his heart sink at Q’s words, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty for not having contacted you again.

“Could you tell her I stopped by?” Hyunjin inquires.

“Me? Oh no,” Q begins. “I can’t get in contact with her. No one can.”

“You- what? What do you mean?”

“Exactly that,” Q responds. “She told me she was done, and she walked out on me with a single watercolor palette and a notepad. She didn’t say anything else.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Hyunjin interrupts to ask, and Q shakes his head.

“She just left, and it’s been almost a month and she’s still MIA. Maybe she’ll come crawling back when she needs another rebranding.”

Hyunjin can feel his heart sinking deeper and deeper with every passing word that leaves Q’s lips.

He’s tried your cell phone- twice since leaving, and you never answered. But he assumed it to be a fleeting argument that would eventually make amends in due time when he could stomach visiting the studio again- not you running away from all of this for good.

“I have to go,” Hyunjin says frantically, chugging the rest of his wine and slamming his glass on the table.

“It was me who found her the first time,” Q says, not taking his eyes off the art across the room.

“What?”

“It was me who chased after her. After she disappeared. Don’t be surprised if she shuts you out when you finally do find her- I think I’ve already scarred her enough with my relentless attempts at persuasion.”

Hyunjin nods nervously, watching as Q cocks his head at the art, still averting Hyunjin’s gaze. And when he finally does turn to look at him, his eyes are glossy with tears, guilt painting every feature on his face.

“Could you just tell her I’m sorry?”

Hyunjin nods, though he makes no verbal promise to relay the message to you.

“Don’t do what I did,” Q emphasizes. “I think you’re the one person who makes her feel like art, herself. Don’t ruin this.”

“I forgot my ID today,” Hyunjin remarks to the security guard in the late hours of the evening. He’s met with a gracious bow, the same security guard opening the door and ushering him inside anyway.

“Don’t worry about it. Take as long as you need.”

The security guards all know Hyunjin very well now, taking note of the way his visits increased tenfold following your departure from the city.

At first he felt as though maybe he was searching for you when he’d come out here, any ounce of proof that you had indeed existed the way he remembered, and hopeful for the confirmation that you moved on to something new.

But as paintings cycled through their respective artists, and exhibits cycled through varying themes, it was a confirmation he never received, never finding a hint of you among the gallery. Thus, Hyunjin drew the hopeful conclusion that you’d escaped to a nicer city, worked on your old paintings again and made a new life for yourself, independently instead of under the overbearing presence of any other man. It’s what he wishes, at least, feeling disheartened every time he remembers you’ve very seldom lived any part of your professional career for yourself only.

The gallery is quiet at this hour, akin to the silent gray evening beyond its walls, and Hyunjin’s shoes squeak along the floors as he makes his way over to the curtains that veil the artwork.

New sculptures, by the same artist who had formed the paper mache ones. These ones are formed from wire and clay, the figures once again embracing each other in tender touches and dances. Hyunjin studies every careful bend and arch, making a mental note to sketch some of them when he gets a chance.

Another room houses a similar spread of modern art from before, these ones all coinciding with the warm lighting that hangs overhead, strokes along the canvases all housing similar warm-toned hues. He knows you’d love this installment and its careful attention to making use of color.

And the last room, the same little room behind a curtain, a small bench in front of a colossal canvas and just barely lit for his eyes to make out the scene.

Hyunjin’s seated before he can even examine the artwork, squinting carefully at the painting to get a better look. He even makes a conscious decision to put on his black frame glasses, making every attempt to get a proper look at the artwork in front of him.

Diluted hues of paint and water dance along the canvas, figured outlines he’s very familiar with, and the essence of solitude radiating from every brush stroke. Only this one isn’t one figure- it’s two, a warm-toned figure and a cool-toned outline holding each other in a tender embrace, their faces indistinguishable, true to the mystery of your work.

And between them, bright hues of paint, yellows, blues, magentas, fantastic mixtures of chartreuse and vermillion, all painted like brush strokes along their yearning bodies and illustrating a profound sense of togetherness, much more robust than the ever-present solitude.

“Visions of you in solitude,” reads the small bronze beneath the canvas.

As he cocks his head to make sense of the painting, he feels the leather of the bench dip beside him, indicating the presence of another patron. And at this hour, he doesn’t need to turn his head to understand who it is.

“There’s two,” Hyunjin says with a small smile, not averting his gaze from the painting.

“It felt incomplete without one.”

“Is that…”

“You?” You question quietly.

He nods in response, eyes scanning the swatches of paint between their bodies. It has to be me, he thinks. It has to be us.

“Maybe it is,” you reply. “I don’t disclose my processes to just about anyone. But you’re welcome to make your assumptions how you see fit.”

Hyunjin gives a breathy chuckle, finally turning to meet your gaze.

You look lighter- happier, as though you have the weight of your fears and reservations off your shoulders for once. Hyunjin can’t help but lean a little closer into you before stopping himself, knowing he can’t come in here to mirror the same thing Q once did long ago.

“You’re doing galleries,” he settles on saying.

“And they scare the hell out of me,” you respond, huffing a little at the end of your sentence. “But, it is nice to be seen again.”

He gives a little nod, and then his mind goes back to Q, who had asked to relay his version of an apology to you. But Hyunjin hesitates to speak of him, not wanting to taint your new art with the mentions of the old businessmen who took advantage of you.

“I’d have kept my distance if I knew how this went down the first time,” Hyunjin explains, hoping you’ll get what he implies. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to shift your focus. I just wanted you to be happy.”

You sigh for a moment, scanning the painting across from you, too, before turning to speak to him once more.

“Of all the clients I’ve painted, you were the first to ask about my vision. I think you do see me. And I think it was easier to say you loved an idea of me, because I couldn’t understand why you’d love any other part.”

Hyunjin nods, not taking his eyes off of yours.

“I learn from you the same way you learned from me,” you continue. “And you make me feel so seen. But I’m learning how to do that without needing you, too. Getting comfortable with my loneliness, I don’t think it’s something I was able to practice very much. At least not with…”

Hyunjin nods, not needing to hear Q’s name to know who you speak of.

“I understand,” Hyunjin voices. “And I want you to take all the time that you need. What matters is that you feel fulfilled, and that you’re not being pushed at the hands of somebody else. That’s more than enough for me to love you at a distance.”

And you nod at him, your heart swelling at his words as he turns to look back at the painting once more. The two of you stay there like that for several minutes, observing the way you’ve so carefully captured the togetherness you feel when you’re beside him. Swatches of paints that echo the color he brings into your life, and yet rooted in the solitude you’re still learning to be comfortable with. Visions of him in your own solitude, also creating a version of yourself that will continue to learn from him as much as he learns from you. And still art at the hands of him, both when you’re loving him wholly, and at this comfortable distance from each other.

And by the summer months, he’ll love you at a close proximity when you’re ready again, exchanging passionate embraces behind the curtains at galleries and making love to you in your shared apartment. He’ll continue to draw for you, and remain the biggest fan of the two-piece figures you illustrate with watercolors, capturing the same sense of togetherness and yet unwavering solitude that comes with breaking yourself down to the world around you. And the love will be reciprocated unconditionally by you, who finally feels seen at the hands of somebody who perceives you beyond just a concept.

But for now, he’ll remain right here, at this comfortable distance, allowing himself to learn from you as much as you learn from him. And the love will be undemanding, but it will be real, tangible.

[ ᴛᴀɢs: @drhsthl , @straykeedz-recs , @caitlyn98s , @moonlinos , @cottonsthings , @jaykyo , @write143 , @pinkcinnamon444 , @maximumkillshot , @auraleeknow , @skzms @coastalmaine , @venomracha , @lmhcats , @felinows , @maexc , @kang-min-joo , @liinoracha , @sealovesbts , @hanniessleepyeyes , @hyunjinsamdl , @chans1aptop , @yomomma104 , @sheraall , @kbbok , @silentreadersthings , @beomkgyu , @diorrxluvskz , @dancerachaslut , @jeannie-beannie , @heeseungshim , @weareapackofstrays , @bethanysnow , @inlovewithmusician , @kite-lee , @heartheartisa , @katsukis1wife , @minhosbitterriver , @y-ur--i , @seung-mine , @sskzlover , @bomi-ja , @crisle19 , @binniesbang , @leritzreyw , @lixiesundrop , @chopchopslide-juggalo , @vsereniasstuff , @morethancupcake , @fun-fanfics , @awillowbent , @unstiqn , @lixiesfairygf ]

add yourself to the tag list here.

#stray kids #skz #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #Hyunjin smut #hyunjin skz #request #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang Hyunjin #skz scenarios #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids hyunjin #Hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #Spotify

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rayghosts · 10 months

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tim drake is a rare case where every wild, out-of-context thing you hear about him gets even wilder with context

made up a fake uncle to avoid getting adopted? first he had to steal his dead dad's will and change it to include the name of his fake uncle, then he forged an entire legal paper trail to fool even batman, and finally hired an out-of-luck actor to play the uncle and had brainstorm sessions with him about his character backstory. judging from his surprised reaction when bruce offered to adopt him, he probably did this to avoid being put into foster care and didnt even consider that bruce might want to adopt him (even though he already adopted three orphans before him) (and then bruce learned about this and gave him more freedom and crimefighting gear so tim could like him)

snuck into gotham during no man's land? he did this twice, first by himself to meet his girlfriend in the hospital while she was giving birth (he snuck into the ER as a nurse), then with his young justice friends who thought he was having daddy issues with batman and wanted to help (this was before he was adopted by bruce) (they also picked up an atlantean tourist on the way who wanted to sightsee gotham)

blew up several of the league of assassins' secret bases? before that he spent days working with them as a member to gain their trust (this was when he robbed that art museum) and all the while they were holding his dad's coworker's daughter who came to search for tim and learned about his secret life as an assassin before she learned he was robin (and then somehow fell in love with him)

becomes evil batman who kills in the future? not only that, he also convinces his friends to be evil with him and then takes control of half the country right after he kills every rogue in gotham and also his aunt. tim fought this version of himself at least three times, and each time swore that he would never become gun batman (he still becomes gun batman)

used his own legal last name as a hero name? he didnt even come up with the idea for that, he met an alternate earth version of himself (also evil) who was using that name and thought "oh that's a good name" and stole it for himself. he didnt bother to check if other drake's identity was public before he started using it. then he got pulled aside and told off personally by batman for using such a dumb name and that's why he's not called drake anymore

insulted jason to his face while he was trying to kill him? did this multiple times and even kicked jason in the nuts once (not while they were fighting, just as payback) (he's jason's favorite brother now)

and then anything that happened with young justice doesnt need any context because it's exactly as weird as it sounds. yes, he did save the fate of a planet by playing baseball with his friends. yes, they did invade an entire sovereign nation to rescue their one friend's parents who had turned into babies. yes, they did see santa claus die in a fiery explosion

#dc #batfam #robin #red robin #tim drake #young justice #young just us #batman #dc comics #mine #1k

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akajustmerry · 1 year

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anyways, instead of focusing all your energy on calling out Succession and the Last of Us for being anti-palestinian, here's some of my favourite media made by Palestinians 🇵🇸 and their allies...

Salt of this Sea (2008). Dir. Annemarie Jacir. Heist film set in Palestine about 2 Palestinians who help a Palestinian American woman rob a British bank who refused to give her the money her grandfather left her.

Netflix original series, Mo, created by Mo Amer. Dramedy about Mo, a Palestinian American without papers, trying to stay out of trouble until his US citizenship is approved (he's already been waiting for 12 years). This just got renewed for a second season!!!!

Farha (2021). Dir. Darin J. Sallam. Coming of age story about a 14 year old girl trying to survive the Nakba in 1948. Tw: settler colonial violence.

In Between (2016). Dir. Maysaloun Hamoud. A film about 3 Palestinian women, one of whom is queer, in their 20s living under occupation. Heart-warming story about friendship, solidarity and revenge. Tw: sexual assault.

In Vitro (2019). Dir. Larissa Sansour. Breathtaking short scifi film set in a future where Bethlehem has been destroyed by an ecological disaster and two scientists from different generations are trying to remember what happened. This film is pure poetry and I think about it constantly.

It Must Be Heaven (2019). Dir. Elia Sulieman. A charmingly absurdist film about Elia Sulieman seeing parallels to Palestine everywhere he goes as he tries to make a film about his homeland.

The Crossing (2017). Dir. Ameen Nayfeh. Short film about Palestinian siblings trying to cross an Israeli checkpoint to visit their grandparents.

Ramy. Episode 3 of season 3: 'American Cigarettes'. Far and away the best episode of TV of 2022, and also directed by Annemarie Jacir. Ramy goes to occupied Palestine to make a diamond deal with some Israeli brokers, but his horniness takes him to The Other Side. I think about this episode almost everyday, it's unlike anything I've ever seen.

Freedom Is A Constant Struggle by Angela Davis. A book of interviews and essays conducted by Angela Davis on how systems of racism and colonial violence are all connected, and how solidarity between communities of colour are vital, using the long-standing allyship between Palestinians, Aboriginal peoples and Black Americans as case studies.

As fine and good as it is to call out Zionism in media, rmr to also support Palestinians, their work and their art. Feel free to suggest more ❤️

#palestine #free palestine #Ramy #Mo #farha #films #tv #/

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jeoncopi · 6 months

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• — freedom overseas — •

GET INTO IT: feeling carefree each time he traveled shouldn’t be different for jungkook. as much as he wishes to feel like this back home, he can’t help but restrict himself at all times. - one thing about you working abroad and his schedules matching your timezones (better when it hits same destination), he could only wish and live for the best. ‘cause that’s exactly what he’ll get.

pairing: jungkook x reader.

word count: 3.4k

be aware of: graphic smut and unprotected sex (be always safe). reader can’t resist jk, car sex, jungkook smokes here so uhm.. y-yeah..

author’s note: since this is supposed to be a drabble (lol). hopefully my next work will end up being with more than 2k (lol) kisses and let me know what you think 😇. istg this story changed 2837 times hajaja

when you step outside the restaurant walking towards jungkook who’s smoking, footsteps froze at the sudden image.

he smokes? since.. when?

bewildered, you blink twice as your eyes carefully watch him take another hit of the small nicotine. this is definitely a whole new side of him you didn’t know about.. completely new, but it got you confused. you’re not crazy to remember him talking about his hate for cigarettes because of how much his dad used to do it back when he was little.. right? like that wasn’t a dream. you’re pretty sure he has expressed his disgust to you. almost agreeing with you.

sigh..

the more you look at him as you approach him feels like you can’t even get mad at him.

..why? well.. pinocchio wouldn’t be proud of you if you say he didn’t looked hot doing it.

ugh! what are these thoughts!

you definitely despise the smell of cigarettes! you even hate the sight of it, but why does he gives you quite the view? - you blame it on the way he carries himself with so much confidence yet— is so unbothered when he opens his mouth talking with your friends. his outfit too and how an all black combo always look so good on him.. but then, the simplest thing as him holding that tiny folded paper around his pointy and middle finger touching in between his soft and natural pink lips with a very boyish smile almost made you feel like having a lucid dream. why? because.. well, you were definely wet now.

what..? no!

yes, you are. you could feel it now. if only he could feel it through your panties..

mm.. no!!

mm.. yes!! you hated daydreaming fantasies with him like this but your body and mind could be very uncontrollable sometimes. feeling a single drop down your panties.. what can you do now? aren’t you supposed to hate this? you do! but why is your body reacting this way? it’s not wrong but it isn’t entirely right either considering you don’t like cigarettes.

deciding to ignore all the carnal thoughts running through your mind, you keep walking straight to him. as sticky and annoying as it feels.

“so.. is this your way of getting fresh air?” you start as soon as your friends started parting ways. tone rather calm compared to the troubled mindset you had a few seconds ago.

startling him, softly so. “ah.. ha. this.” he responds. eyes blinking on beat as soon as he grins. you watch carefully as his hand shakes the little tobacco rolled paper.

“yeah.. this.” shyly pointing at it, “how long has this being going on?” voice still calm, you didn’t put too much effort in questioning him. it’s his body at the end of the day and you know just how stubborn your boyfriend can get.

“mm..” smoke exhaling from his mouth and he’s mindfully careful when he does it tilting his head up for the smoke to follow that direction and not be even near close your entire face. “not long ago, actually. taehyung once brought this one vaper and i was curious by its smell each time he used it, so I bought one. strawberry ice cream, to be clear,” he laughed, you do too. “it was weird but I liked it.”

“hm..” slowly crossing your arms around your body you lean against his car in thought. not breaking eye contact even a second, jungkook could feel it. “what made you change your mind? m’not gonna lie. I’m surprised. I remember you once saying you hated it.”

and it’s like your gaze is looking for answers and jungkook can clearly see that. knows you too much. thinks it’s so cute too. the way your curiosity rises each time he takes another hit, he can trust your mind being full of unanswered questions for him. he knows what you mean as well as knowing how much you don’t like it either. but the fact that you aren’t mentioning none of it to him it just makes him look at you with nothing more but warm eyes. thinking he loves you too much.

“so do you.” he states by wanting to make that clear. so you know that he knows. so you know that he won’t and isn’t getting crazy about it, that he’s aware. but you could only understand that if he really explained why.

so that’s what he does.

“remember that day when I texted you about living one life?” you nod. “well, I decided to just give it a try. I want to try everything that I can when it comes to things that I want. be it temporally or not. during my whole life.. as long as I live, there’s probably not gonna be a second chance right?”

“right.”

“at least not in this body,” and he’s so soft spoken that when he shakes once more what’s left of the cigarette’s butt before taking his last hit, the sound of a familiar plastic sound resonates through your ears and that’s when you see him pull two tiny tabs of what seems to be gum off his pocket. and you can’t believe he just did that. suddenly the image you were seeing right now, not matching with his current actions. so you can’t help but give a small smile as soon as he handles one tab for you to take with his pretty big eyes.

he continues, “even though it damages my body a little, there’s a balance thing called in life. i’m not getting addicted and I don’t do it excessively-“

“I was worrying about that, actually..” you voice out, interrupting him. “you tend to get obsessive over things.”

it makes him smile, softly. “I know. but I won’t, I promise. you know my thing is drinking alcohol anyways.. even though that isn’t entirely good either..” making you laugh in unison as you lightly punch him.

“at least you’re aware.”

“hey!” he hugs you side ways. “candy isn’t so much good for your health either..” walking towards the side of his car so you can go.

“but i’m not obsessed.” you huff about it.

“could be. you do get a bit obsessive.” bopping your nose.

“stop!”

making him laugh, “okay.. hop on.”

“I hate you.”

“show me how much.” and.. he closes the door with the biggest playful smile.

oh.. no, not again.

and there you are, left with a big hysterical smile plastered on your lips as you try to breath in, breath out the sudden rush of your body. — come on! it’s not as if you weren’t fucking wet a few minutes ago as soon as you saw him do the things you hated the most.. right? ..you totally got this..

but who.. who were you lying to? it’s not like you could control your body when you haven’t seen him in weeks anyways..

yeah.. you were a mess.

still, you tried to play it cool. “are we heading back towards the hotel, right?” genuily asking.

he responds as soon as he closes his door. “yeah, why?” staring at you now. “wanna go somewhere else?” one palm touching your bare thigh when he asks.. you know there’s nothing wrong with it, and it should be normal at this point of your relationship too, but your hormones were getting the best of you so you just play it off, gently pulling his hand away as much as you didn’t wanted to. deep inside.

“not actually, was just asking.” it’s the truth, but jungkook only squinted his eyes before resting an arm on top of the handbrake, his face’s closer to yours. not enough for you to loose your sanity but close enough into getting a whiff of his rich cloudy scent. although, you can’t deny how fine he looked staring at you like that, his eyes always seemed to shine no matter the situation. only that this time around, everything you could sense from it was nothing more than desire flaming throughout his dark orbits.

“you know we can go wherever you want, right?” staying like that for a couple of seconds, all you can answer is a slight nervous “I know.” and jungkook can sense your sudden shyness. thinking is cute but this could only go one way or the other.. if you both play your cards right.

staring at you for a couple of seconds, jungkook’s piercing gaze switch between your lips along with your boobs and neck before getting ready to turn on the car.. making you exhale a little air after, as if you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“originally, I wanted to get back so I could brush my teeth or something to be honest.” talking about smoking. “I’m not much of a fan of the aftertaste,” he laughs. “but if you want to go somewhere else,” a hand slides through your thigh.. again. only this time, he squeezes it two times. “I’m down for it too.”

one hand on the steering wheel, another one on your thigh.. it’s moments like these when you question if he knows how effortlessly irresistible he is.. sure, it might be something simple. he’s not doing much either. is just that his side profile and the way his hair lingers in his face and overall the way he’s shaped and how you can literally see the bump of his chest pop for how much he works out mark through his shirt that it makes you want to trace his pectorals with your fingers forever makes you want to eat him and that’s it but.. uh, isn’t that the definition of being so stupidly effortlessly hot?

when you softly press both your legs together, his hand seems to scalate close to your inner thigh..

oh jungkook.. perhaps, are you having the same thoughts as me?

still, you try your best to ignore it. “ah.. so that’s why you have gum with you, isn’t it?”

“caught.” rising both hands up as played guilty.

and as you stare at him.. you notice once again, he looked fine. your legs squeeze and you slightly arch your back when your gaze is back on the street still trying to ignore the finest hottie beside you. - jungkook, on the other hand, just smiles to himself and starts driving. you can’t help but give little sneak peeks at the way he gently but confidently grasps the wheel with one hand.. as soon as the other one approaches your thigh once again.. - he always did this but you were uncontrollable tonight. can’t help but immediately give him those eyes as soon as he reaches your beloved red light.

you swore going back to the hotel wasn’t the main priority. you wanted him now. - so slowly tilting your head to the side, your voice is airy when “babe..”

“mmh?”

and that’s when he sees you. you don’t say a word but he already knows what’s that thing you’re craving the most, and that thing it’s him. he doesn’t speak either. just staring at you under the red light, his hand traces a path towards your slowly opening legs. when you bite your lips into a smirk, his fingers are already pushing your panties to the side. confirming his most prominent thought. you’re wet as fuck.

“were you waiting for this?” eyes gazing up and down your body, his voice is cheeky when he asks. biting down both of his lip rings. “fuck. just how long were you this turned on?” playing with your clit “and why didn’t you told me..” as your body twitches. “it makes me crazy..” whispering more to himself.

—

when you’re gripping the head of his seat increasing the pressure between your arms so you could balance your jumps more deeper and precisely above him, he feels like he could cum in any moment. controlling his breathing, he tries to concentrate in order not to but the way your breast bounce and how you manage to leave quick steamy kisses over his neck makes it so hard. mostly when he has this desire to kiss all over your chest and suck on your titties. but his hands are also gripping so hard at the side of the seat, he barely touches your legs and he feels like a teenager are over again.

the fuck is this coming from him not wanting to last? he blames it on the long time you haven’t seen each other. 3 weeks exactly without your kisses and physical touch.. when he remember fucking almost (if not) everyday when you stayed at his house or he stayed at yours. - there’s always this deep desire whenever you’re close to each other, jungkook doesn’t think it will ever go away and to be honest he doesn’t even want it to ever disappear. always thinking about if it’s you, then everything will be okay.

but as you’re both very into it, something similar like a flash, lights up a little the dark street jungkook managed to set you up. - you both ignore it at first but after two more times, you stop bouncing hard on him switching to slow circular movements that still makes jungkook bite his lips for how good you feel.

“don’t stop.” he’s confident, palming your ass.

“I think there’s someone watching us.”

“I’ve notice too.”

but you both end up stopping your movements regardless.

quickly looking around, the flashes has seemed to be gone but as you keep searching for someone, jungkook just stares at you only to caught your attention back by squeezing your ass two times. making your eyes meet as he mischievously smirks.

“I couldn’t care less from last time, you know it.” sensually kissing your lips. he’s provoking you all over again.. “let them have a show. it’s what they want.”

and you know he’s referring to that one time you both fucked on a balcony being overseas too. - paparazzis had caught you fucking and while you were worried about him getting bashed for it (for the blurry clips that spreaded back then), he ended up being so calm about it to the point of fighting with his company saying he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to fuck his girlfriend. - and while he understands the depth of why they asked him to be careful, he still thinks it’s just bullshit and that the people who love him for him, will just accept and be happy that he’s happy experiencing what every normal person does. so why everybody can be happy but him? he’s just the same human with needs and desires..

“but this isn’t-“

“stop worrying about me. I know you can’t help it, so let me just say there’s nothing wrong with us wanting to fuck.. I bet they’ve their own experience so why can’t we have ours?”

when you hold his face, you know what he means. knowing how hard it is for him to tell you to stop worrying about it since he once told you he couldn’t just tell that to you because it make him feel careless about your feelings, but you do really get him this time..

when it comes from his personality, a part of you loved that. love that he doesn’t care, love that he always chooses his happiness because at the end of the day he knows he might only have this one life. and even if he don’t, he still wants to enjoy it at his best and that’s why when he motions your hips to move by gripping the side of your waist, both of your bodies stick so close to each other that the image of him biting his lips as he contemplates your body makes you not want to regret this and so you don’t. realizing you’ll only have this from time to time.

“fuck this.” you moan to his ear when jungkook kisses are needy and steamy, confirming just how badly he wanted to try this.

talking about it it’s something but actually experience this feeling of sex in such a limited place (even when this car is very spacious) was really hot and adrenaline reaching. windows foggy and all, it almost feel like a movie. you believe that at this rate it’s even difficult to look at inside the car so if those strangers were really filming or whatever, they’re footage will be already ruined.

you smiled a little because of that. but it didn’t lasted long when you suddenly feel both of jungkook’s hands around your hips manhandling the way you were going to start bouncing on him.

“let them see if they’re so interested in me. I couldn’t care less.” he just doesn’t give a single fuck right now and that only makes you want him more.

see, whenever he’s on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ moment.. you believe that’s when he’s the most sexiest and dangerous. - maybe you were too into him but each time he showed this side of himself.. you can’t help but love it and be turned on for it at the same time.

—

while he treats you like his personal fucktoy, he does gives you times were you could move at you own pace. but the sounds and the way he touched you were making it hard for you so there’s nothing left when you say, “I- I want to cum.” with such a tiny desperate voice, it makes jungkook grin.

“do it.” voice tender compare with his hot-messy image. “mm, i’ll cum too if you do.” moaning afterwards.

and the good thing is that he really can make himself cum once you do. all he has to do is concentrate in the way your walls contracts into him as if they were gonna swallow, he loves it each time. say it feels too rich, too tight for him to handle. - so when you’re both done, after driving for a while, you don’t see more cars trying to follow you.

“gonna sleep so well tonight, i’m so fucking happyyy” he singsongs as soon as he lays in bed, pulling you into his chest for a hug. “no more nightmares,” he kisses your forehead. “my princess is here.”

smiling to himself, you feel so shy and loved at the same time. gently kissing his lips. “I can say the same.” lovey-dovey eyes looking at him.

he caresses your hair. ”my pretty little princess.”

you smile. “I hope you don’t go hard on yourself.” saying after knowing what’s coming if there really was someone witnessing what happened earlier.

“don’t worry.” softly smiling, “I told you I didn’t cared, didn’t I?” caressing one of your cheeks.

“hm. but still.”

it makes him look at you with warms eyes. “keep being cute. i’m grateful that you worry this much about me..”

“don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. it’s the truth.” pause. “I just love how caring you are because that means you really must love me..” tone serious.

“of course I do, silly!” you tease him, making him laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“let’s sleep now. we’ve so much things to do..”

“..and so much little time..” you follow.

“I know.” he sighs. “but we can make it.”

“we always do.” you proudly smile, he does too.

“I love us so much.” he says once again.

you laugh. “okay, let’s sleep sentimental boy.”

“you love me this way.”

“you know I do.”

and after teasing each other for a while, you both end up falling into your sleep for a brand new, busy and maybe more exciting day..

2K notes · View notes

neo-percs · 6 months

Text

DEEP END:: ( park Sunghoon )

WARNING:: 80's au, summer fling, high school au, skinny dipping, rich boy! Sunghoon, smut, harsh language, descriptions of drowning and passing out, smoking (weed & cigarettes ) Angst, misunderstood situation, mutual pining, fluff, insults & accusations, mentions of vomiting, terrible parenting, trespassing, oral! (f&m receiving ), riding, handjob, masterbation (m) virgin! Sunghoon, poor! Reader, experienced! Reader, pool sex, y/n teaches sunghoon

SUMMARY:: after saving Sunghoon from drowning at the local pool; y/n offers to give him swimming lessons which leads into way more than expected.

WORD COUNT:: 36.6K

A/N:: this is a repost from my old account, the longest fic I’ve ever written and I refuse to make a part 2 since this took me half a year to write.

You were broke, while most girls at the ripe age of 19 would be living it up on the beach with booze they stole from their parents liquor cabinet; you were stuck on lifeguard patrol in the slums of the south side right next to an old run down diner scraping 5 dollars an hour for 5 days a week.

While girls your age could bat their lashes and easily get 100 bucks out of their fathers; you could barely be trusted with a sticky nickel and a paper clip. It's not that you hated the job, you just disliked the reason you had to work there.

The community pool is for mothers who are freshly divorced preying on boys who just graduated or even other womens husbands, snot nosed kids wanting a sense of freedom, and teenagers who just show up and stare down someone else they find attractive.

You only sigh and continue to look around the pool area. Your eyes catch a familiar face, Choi Yeonjun. He had already graduated and yet he was staying back with his friends for the summer before he's off to another semester of college in the fall, and boy was he a sight to see. Shirtless, hair wet and covering his forehead as his smirk tugged his lips as he watched his friend dunking each other's heads under water.

Lucky enough for you; your sunglasses shielded your eyes as you practically drool over the older boy, and it wasn't until you heard loud obnoxious laughs coming from a group of boys as they moved in a pack all near the edge of the pool. As they near the deep end.

As many of them rough house and find their way into the warm water of the pool one boy sat at the ledge only letting his feet dip into the water. Kicking his feet splashing the clear water as his eyes focus on the tiled flooring on the pool that reached almost 20 feet.

Sunghoon's heart pounded in his throat as he looked at the bottomless pit that was the community pool. And although Sunghoon lived nowhere near this part of town he still came with his friends because they rough house too much to go to the country club pool that his family liked to bring him and his sister to every year.

This year there were a few new additions to the group; Jake Sim had just moved into town from Australia, and Yang Jungwon and Nishimura Riki had been introduced to the group sometime last school year. Sunghoon had seemed to adjust to the new additions yet he guesses that they don't know much about his summer secret.

"Get in the pool Hoon, it's fucking hot" Jake says with a bright smile to his friend only to be brushed off with a shake of his head "I'm good, I think I just wanna chill here for a bit" he reasoned. Sunghoon hated to admit he can't swim, and if anybody hasn't noticed he has a big ego and it would in fact bruise said ego to admit he can't do something a toddler can do.

It was very embarrassing, Sunghoon has met plenty of cute girls at the community pool but immediately when being offered to swim with them he has to turn them down, his ego is too bruised already from knowing he can't swim but telling his friends that he can't seriously kicked him down a few pegs.

"Don't be lame Sunghoon it's only a little water" Jay teases as he splashed the brunette with the water in his face making Sunghoon's nose scrunch in distaste. Without the realization that Riki had been plotting. "Whatever I'm just gonna sit over on one of those chairs," he says as he lets his feet pull out of the water leaving wet prints on the concrete in his wake.

As soon as he stood at his pull height a pair of large hands were felt on his back. "Just swim with us for a bit Hoon, the water won't hurt you," Niki says as he pushes Sunghoon's back gently. Making Sunghoon's heart leap immediately "I'm good, I just don't feel like swimming," he says nervously as he stumbles over his words. "Come on, I wanted to play chicken" Ni-ki whines as he repeatedly presses into Sunghoon's pale freckled back.

But soon the small pushes turn into shoves and Sunghoon can feel his feet on the ledge coming closer and closer to slipping on the soaked slippery cement. Anxiety crept into the front of his mind as his friends watched with smirks and smiles while they tease him. His own personal torment, he felt like everything around him was becoming muffled watching as all his friends float at the surface while the cool water splashed around.

"Really Riki I think I'll sit this out" he stutters as feels the shoves are becoming too much and hopes that his younger friend will just ease up. But to his dismay, Riki is determined to get his friend in the water. Sunghoon could feel his heel on the edge and his breathing was becoming more and more ragged he let out a yelp, twisting on his foot Riki's push mid-turn left Sunghoon free-falling into the air as the sound of friends cheering reached his ears.

Panic. Sunghoon could feel the cold water engulf him as he sinks deeper into the water. Flailing his arms in hopes air could fill his lungs and his body would feel the heat of the sun again. But to no avail, he sinks further and further until he touches the bottom of the pool. Holding his breath until his throat burned his eyes seeing the bottom half of other people swimming.

For what felt like minutes Sunghoon let a scream die in his throat while water filled his lungs, his vision blurred and darkening with every passing second as his hair clouds his vision he lets exhaustion take over his person. His fight to keep conscious is a weak one, and the bubbles slipping past his lips reach the surface of the pool.

His friends all stare with wide and worried eyes as they realize that Sunghoon wasn't coming back up, the bubbles coming from the bottom of the pool in the same spot he had fallen in signifying that. "Alright Sunghoon, you can come up now. You don't have to hold your breath to scare us" Jake says with a worried tone. Anxiety creeps up on his friends as they all refuse to believe that their friend intends to put fear into them.

But the eldest of the group had taken extra precautions. Sinking his head underneath the water letting the chemicals burn his eyes, the blurred sight of his younger friend at the bottom of the pool where nobody could reach with a limp body. Panic takes over him as he comes up catching his breath "he's at the bottom passed out, wave down the lifeguard" Heeseung says in a rush as he dunks his head once more to see if Sunghoon would move. Yet to no avail he had sat in the same slumped position as his hair messily covers his face.

The distant sound of his friends yelling for the lifeguard had Heeseung pulling his head away from chemically induced water as he shouts "he's over here at the bottom" he sees you, pulling your keychain and glasses off your eyes are frantic as you make eye contact with the wide Bambi eyes of Heeseung who's guiding you over to his passed out friend.

And without little hesitation you dive in head first with wide eyes, looking at the very bottom of the pool you see him. The brunette boy with messy hair passed out against the very bottom of the pool. As you near him you lift his arm over your shoulder and push your legs against the floor helping you both float back to the surface as you use the rest of your willpower to kick your feet until your both above water.

Swimming past everyone in your way you see two people at the edge of the pool reaching to help you pull him out. "How long was he under there for?" You asked as you pulled yourself out of the pool seeing as they lay him down on his back. "2 or 3 minutes" one of them answers you as you push his hair out of his face and press your fingers against the space between his jaw for a pulse.

It was barely there but he wasn't breathing without another word; you tilt his head back and center your hands on his chest preparing him for CPR. Pressing into his chest repeatedly as you trained, fingers pinch his nose as your other hand holds his chin leaving his mouth to open you press your lips to his cold ones blowing air into his lungs as his chest weakly rises and falls.

Doing it a few more times and as you were about to press your lips to his once again a loud fit of coughing could be heard making everyone sigh in relief at the sight of the boy leaning over onto his side coughing up water as you held a hand over your fast-beating heart. Patting his back as he coughs up pool water you look up at his friends. "He'll be fine, he just needs to rest. '' You stand up, grabbing the towel his friend held out to you and wrapping it around Sunghoon's shoulders who had been shivering.

"I'll call a medic out to check on him, just sit him down in a chair" you look back down at the boy who had seemingly gained the attention of almost everyone at the pool. And as you walk away to the small staff building you hear the boy mumble "how long was I out?" And you almost crack a grin.

Sunghoon felt embarrassed. Not only did people refuse to go back in the pool for at least 30 minutes because of him but when he was getting checked by the medic you stood there the whole time watching his flushed face as they ask him stupid questions he could barely comprehend. And after deeming that Park Sunghoon had not suffered any real damages other than a bruised ego he told his friends to go back to swimming while he sat down.

You had been given a break and you chose to grab a popsicle and approach the boy you had single-handedly saved. Sitting down in one of the harsh pleather beach chairs "so... you feeling any better?" You ask as you take a bite out of the sweet blueberry-flavored ice. "yeah, just embarrassed I guess. Now everyone knows... I can't swim" he trails off his words as he feels his face heat up with embarrassment.

"It's okay to not know how to swim you know?" You say trying to make the boy feel a tinge better. "Yeah right," he scoffed "You know how to swim, and if it wasn't for you I'd probably be in an ambulance on the way to the hospital while some old man gives me mouth to mouth," he says giving a dry chuckle. You couldn't help but laugh at his words.

"I'll tell you what. I can teach you how to swim. I give lessons to kids during the weekends" you say with a small smile as you think about the young kids who you always have a giggle with every Saturday morning as they all ask you to watch whatever stunts they pull.

"I didn't know you taught teenagers," he says looking at you as you bite off another chunk of your popsicle. You shake your head "I don't, but I could make an exception and teach you when the pool closes since I lock up and everyone else leaves" you said. You had only offered because you truly felt bad.

"I don't know... couldn't you get in trouble for that?" He asks wearily, really Sunghoon was just afraid to learn how on the off chance he ends up drowning, again. "Not if we don't get caught... I have the keys so just show up tomorrow a little after 8 the gate will be closed but not locked. I'll be waiting" you say as you get up from the seat walking into the small building reserved for employees only.

"I never agreed....to that" he trailed off as he was now talking to himself. Squinting as he sees his friends happily swimming and splashing each other, while the teen girls and pretty moms dressed in color-coated bathing suits tan in the raging sun that was practically blinding.

——

Although Sunghoon never agreed to swim classes, he sure did wait in the parking lot of the community pool waiting 15 minutes past 8. Sitting in his car contemplating if he seriously should be doing this. Of course, the only cons were that: he doesn't learn how to swim and possibly drown again, or that he could be caught sneaking in by security.

The pros outweighed the cons so he opened his car door, locked it, and walked past the closed gate of the community pool being met with your back facing him as your feet were in the cool water. The clanking of the entrance closing makes you turn your head.

Sunghoon stood awkwardly watching as you look at him "you were sitting in your car for so long I thought you'd never come in here" you laugh shaking your head. "Well can't a guy be cautious? I mean I'm not exactly ecstatic to get back in a pool the day after I drowned" he said monotonously which makes you laugh.

"Well aren't we here to fix that now? I was just gonna do the floaty method until you were ready to try and swim on your own" you shrug. "The floaty method?" He asks curiously as he walks closer and sits on the edge beside you and looks at the reflection of the soft light coming off the pool.

"Yeah. It's when you lay on top of a floaty and you paddle around until you get the hang of swimming. That's how I learned as a kid" you smile as you look over at him seeing the soft blue hues from the water on his skin. "That doesn't seem too hard," he says content with the likes of how you decided to reach him.

And with that the both of you shed out your clothes and dressed in your bathing suits, you grabbed a spare floaty and handed it off to Sunghoon who looked exasperated "why'd you give me a pink sparkly one?!" He whined "because it was the first one I found," you say defensively. "And you didn't think I'd want one that's like uh I don't know not pink?" He says.

"I'm sorry princess I'll be more considerate next time, but right now I'm not worried about the stupid color of your floaty. Just get in the pool and lay on the damn thing" you tease him as he tosses his head back groaning and mumbling snarky comments under his breath.

Watching as the boy tosses the glittery floaty into the pool he uses the steps to get in slowly as he whines at the cold water. "You need to stop whining about everything," you say making sunghoon roll his eyes.

"For someone who doesn't know my name you sure do find yourself being comfortable telling me what to do," he says spitefully which makes you purse your lips in the realization that neither of you had introduced yourselves. "And for someone trying to blame me you didn't even ask my name to begin with," you said rolling your eyes.

"You can't be criticizing me when you haven't told me yours either?!" He bickers which makes you groan. "Y/n, but I asked you first and you couldn't use common courtesy to introduce yourself?" you ask with a faux offended tone. "Are you trying to peer pressure me into feeling bad?" He asks dodging your question.

"Just tell me your name or by the time you get in the water, the sun will be down" you sigh as you point to the pool. "Sunghoon, I mean I already knew your name because your one of the cool lifeguards" he nods "really? I just sit down and blow a whistle for like three hours" you explain with a small chuckle. "Yeah, but half of the time you let us get away with anything" he laughs as thinks of the time you were on duty and watched them play a full match of chicken and never once told them to stop.

"Let's just- start the lesson before the sun goes down completely" you mumbled as you felt heat on your cheeks and neck at his comments. "Lay your stomach flat on the floaty hold both of your arms out fully and paddle like you've seen your friends do at the pool." You say watching as he slowly inches into the warm water. "What if I fall off?" He asks he was too anxious to find out, he hoped, and prayed that he didn't have to relive the nightmare of drowning again.

"You won't. And this is the shallow end. So if you fall of just stand up on your own two feet and you'll be okay" you say in an attempt to comfort him. "I'll be in the pool watching you the whole time. So if you do end up drowning, I'll be there okay?" You say raising your brows at him with soft eyes almost instantly making him melt. He nods as he was now waist deep into the water, the waters blue reflection on his skin as he settles onto the small donut shaped floaty.

Stepping into the water yourself you stand near the edge of the pool feeling the small slippery tiles on your skin as the sound of the filter hums in the background of soft splashing and squelching of wet skin against the plastic toy sticking to Sunghoon's skin. "Like this?" He asks as you see his arms get lost inside the water soaking under the burnt yellow and orange hues of the sun.

And you don't know why it had taken you from when you saved him up until now that he was kind of attractive. The way his brown hair stuck to his forehead, or how buff he looked, maybe it was the freckles and moles that littered his back along with his muscles that flex every time he tried to adjust himself comfortably.

Blinking away your small daze you nod "yeah, now just kick your feet and paddle with your hands at the same time" you say watching as you watch the chlorine filled water ripple over his skin as he by memory mocks what he'd seen often at the pool. It was not really good to say the least.

"You need to stable your kicks or else your gonna sink, that floaty won't be able to hold you up forever" you scold him slightly watching as he fails to move very far with his lack of support that he legs are providing. "It's hard to move your feet and hands at the same time" he whines. "Well then you'll keep struggling if your body can't adjust" you said with a grin hearing him whine even louder.

You felt bad because he couldn't do much, so you caved. You caved and you pulled his floaty near the steps of the pool. You told him not to move his hands and hold onto the floaty while he kicked his feet. It was like the young kids you taught in the early morning, he was so excited when you let him go and he actually moved.

Not too far, he was dead serious about not going close to the deep end, he looked like his life flashed before his eyes when he saw how bigger the numbers got when paddled half way through the pool, he was so scared he asked you to pull him back to the shallow end.

You knew that you were gonna struggle with him.

——

And man we're you right. You decided that you would start teaching him 3 times a week and you were now on your 6th lesson. He ditched the floaty and was now asking you to help him hold his breath. The both of you had gotten so comfortable with each other that you would sometimes even dry off at the edge of the pool eating popsicles and talk for 30 minutes before deciding it was getting too late.

Now being one of those times. It had been a few minutes after the both of you had decided that the lesson was over, you had opened up the staff only building and took out two Cherry popsicles from the freezer you and you coworkers had often put cold drinks and treats inside. You could hear the distant buzzing of street lights and the chirping of crickets.

As you settle on the now dried concrete you hand him the cold treat and stare off into the water with a question sitting on your tongue you had been waiting to ask for a while. "How come... your parents never offered to get you a swimming class?" You ask just above a whisper hoping not to ruin the peacefulness around you.

He only shrugged "my parents don't care about that stuff. While everybody else was learning how to swim at seven, I was attending business meetings with my parents" he mumbled in realization that he never got to have fun much when he was younger. "Ouch" you say flatly. "Yeah, and it wasn't like I had any friends to swim with anyways. My parents called them 'distractions from my own success' but when I got older they didn't care as much. No more business meetings, and at one point I think my dad tried to pimp me out to his friends daughters so he could get in a good word" he laughed.

"So your living it up now that they aren't breathing down your neck?" You ask in speculation "I mean if that's what you would call it. My mom still flaunts me off to her girlfriends about how smart I am, so I just do everything I can to make her happy" he mumbles slightly embarrassed about how he just opened up to you about family.

"Mama's boy" you giggle which makes him scoff as he gently shoved your shoulder "what about you and you're family?" He asks as he watches your giggles die out in your throat. "I mean we aren't the most wealthy on the block, and we damn sure aren't any country club members. But I guess we get by just fine" you shrug "you got any siblings?" He asks in hopes that lightens the mood "no but I wish I did" you say with a feint smile.

"You don't. Trust me, if you had to wait an hour for your sister to get out of the shower I bet you'd be telling anyone who's an only child to not even ask your parent for another kid" he laughs as he's reminded of his little sister and him bickering early mornings when the other has places to be. "Really?" You laugh "it's a nightmare" he groaned.

The both of you begin to revel in the short silence between the both of you until you heard footsteps and a clicking of what you assumed what a flashlight making you gasp "oh shit" you wince as you stand up off the concrete floor. "What?" Sunghoon asked in a loud whisper "security, we gotta run or else we could get arrested and I could lose my job" you wince as the both of you look for the closet way out due to the security guard standing at the entrance.

As you see the light from his flashlight you lock eyes as you point to the fence. "We either jump that, or hope he's not in good shape" you say as you watch the guard turn the corner. "Hey! It's after 8 o'clock you can't be here!" He shouted as he sees you and Sunghoon scramble to collect all of his things and dashing around the pool and into the frigid grass.

Only for the guard to run in the same direction trying to beat you to the fence. Throwing his bag and towel over you both begin to as the cold metal of the fence digs into your bare feet. "You little bastards! I don't get paid enough to deal with horny teens!" He shouts as he approaches the gate with an attempt to grab your ankle but to his dismay was kicked in the nose harshly feeling the wet grass that has stuck to the bottom of your foot now on his face.

You and Sunghoon shouting and laughing out of pure fear you wouldn't be able to get out of there without most likely getting arrested for trespassing. "You know you aren't getting paid enough for this" you laughed as you wiggled your leg out of his grasp, Sunghoon finally jumping down to the other side standing infront of you holding out his hands hoping you'd trust him to catch you.

"Hurry" he laughed watching you pull your leg over to the other side and without much thought let yourself jump into his arms, you ignore the slight burning in the bottom of your feet as you feel his hands around your waist tightly. "Do you have a car?" He asks as the both of you jog towards the parking lot.

"No, I walk to work" you say as you feel small pebbles stick to the bottom of your feet as you both lead yourselves towards the almost empty lot. "Why didn't you say so? I could've been giving you rides home after lessons" he said as he unzipped his bag to pull out his keys. Trying to find the right one he unlocks it.

His headlights beaming onto you giving the both making you wince at the sudden flash. "Well can you give me a ride now?" You ask as he begins to walk to his car "that was the plan in the first place. I'm not leaving you here" he says snidely "not every rich person is a douche you know?" he says mockingly which makes you feel a sudden heat flash of embarrassment on your skin at his sudden assumption which was correct.

You follow behind him almost awkwardly as if you two hadn't been spending the past few weeks sneaking back into the pool and teaching him how to swim. Approaching the door of his car barely seeing the cherry red paint of the handles of his car you pull it open. The scent matching its color; sickeningly sweet cherry candy and leather.

You sit in the white leather seats hoping the feeling of it wouldn't absolutely burn you alive from being under the sun in the parking lot all day. But to your suprise his seats were mildly warm, the both of you putting on your seatbelts and he put his keys into the ignition listening as wind blows through the small vents on his dashboard and his engine practically groans and vibrates your whole body. Smiling at you he could hear the feint voice of Janet Jackson playing he didn't mind too much.

"Which side of town is your house on?" He asks as he pulls out of his parking space slightly hoping the pudgy security guard won't try and push his luck trying to get extra cash if he gets his license plate. "The west side, just keep going up the street and take a left I'll show you the streets to turn down" you mumble in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from explaining that your from the run down side of town. "I know where it is, just point out the turn on the main road" he says trying to push the lump in his throat.

Sunghoon was nervous, he's only been to west side once before and it was to get onto the highway for a road trip with his friends, he's never actually made a stop, let alone had to leave alone on the more violent side of town. He didn't think there was anything wrong with the people who lived there like you for example; you were nice enough to teach him how to swim. He didn't know about everyone else though, he was born and raised in the suburbs coddled into believing that the safety of his neighborhood had everything he needed and he wouldn't dare set foot into a neighborhood lesser than that.

You didn't blame him for looking shaken up, most people assume that all people from the west side are thieves, druggies, gun slingers who don't have jobs or live off of paycheck after paycheck. It was just a reputation that had stuck and though you never fit the criteria you weren't one to let it affect the way you lived life, you would just hope that it doesn't change the way Sunghoon sees you after you've built yourself a good budding friendship with him.

But the look of nervousness was blinked away in an instant as he looks over at the glove compartment in front of your lap. "I have a few tapes in there if you like any of the songs I have" he says pointing at it, you nod fiddling with the handle until it slammed open which almost earns a yelp from you. Sunghoon laughs at your tiny struggle while he turns onto the basically empty road and leaving behind an empty parking lot.

As you dig through the cassettes you see a bunch of mixed music, some jazz, hip hop, even rock, you make a few impressed faces at his music which has his eyes flickering at the tapes then to your face which makes him scoff with a small grin on his lips "why are you making those faces? Is my music taste that bad?" He his eyes goes back to the road as he nears a stop sign easing on his breaks. "No I'm kind of impressed, I didn't take you for an AC/DC fan" you pick up one of his tapes flashing the cover of it written in black marker.

"You shook me all night long is my guilty pleasure" he mumbled with a shy shrug which earns him a small giggle from you. Pushing the tape inside the slot you hear it shuffling around before it starts to play which makes you smile and put the rest of the tapes that had fallen into your lap back inside the glove compartment. Sunghoon turning up the volume he starts to sing in a terrible accent that has you laughing.

"You're corny" you laugh as you both exchange looks while he sings along messily and shouting over his own speakers, it all felt nice in the moment. Loud music, smiling and laughing, the top down on his car and you could feel the wind whipping past your face it felt nice. Singing along while you both laugh as you zip through a silent neighborhood and onto a busy street with more cars.

The lights turning into orange blurs as you see the streets of the middle class disappear into more run down and abandoned buildings, smaller one story homes, house that looked to have been burnt down or worse. Sunghoon still managed to hold his smile as he could hear the soundtrack end, and when the two of you made it to the main road on the west side it was utter silence between you two.

"Tell me when to turn" he mumbled looking around at the houses with a curious gaze. "Turn at the next street" you answer him pointing to green sign that read 'church hill avenue' Sunghoon eases himself until he turns onto your street, he can see the obvious smile on your face at the familiar houses that you've always known. He slowly drives down the road making sure he doesn't miss your house.

"My house is the small yellow one at the end" you grumble at how you have to describe your poor living situation; small, cramped, it didn't look bad in the least if sunghoon was honest. He could see the small garden he assumed your mom has right beside your front porch that had a few plastic chairs and a table with a rusted metal lid as an ashtray. Sunghoon was unfamiliar with a neighborhood and it was very obvious from the way he pulled into your driveway instead of stopping at the curb.

Shutting his car off he gets out of the car and opens your door. He was treating you as if the both of you had just come back from a date, but regardless you took the hand he held out to you as he ushered you to the front door. You both stood on your porch awkwardly. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't think we can do lessons at the pool anymore" you say almost biting back a smile. "That's fine, I have a pool at my place you can teach me there if you want" he suggests which makes your eye almost twitch in annoyance.

"So you've had a pool this whole time?" You ask in disbelief "yeah" he says bluntly nodding along with his answer "and you didn't think to tell me that before I risked losing my job and sneaking you in?" You ask breathily almost laughing at how stupid the both of you had been. "Sorry?" He says almost as a question. "It's fine" you shake your head.

"Uh I can start picking you up after your shifts and you can give me lessons, how does that sound?" He asks which makes your brows furrow "pick me up?" You ask, you have no idea why he was going out of his way to come get you when he would have to drive all the way from the south to come get you, then east to his house and then to the west side just to drop you off.

"Well I'm not gonna make you walk, I already told you" he mumbled he felt a heat on his face regardless of the cold night air on his skin. "You don't have to do that Sunghoon really" you try to reason with him "I want to. You should really get inside though, it's kind of cold tonight" he said with a sickeningly sweet smile looking at you with soft eyes.

"Right, and thanks for the ride and stuff" you give a smile back stepping closer you lean in giving a small chaste kiss to his cheek "goodnight hoon" you whisper as you pull away opening your front door leaving a stunned sunghoon who was lifting his fingers to his warm cheek that had turned a deep shade of red as he could feel your sticky lipgloss on his cheek.

He watched as you disappeared behind your front door, when you close the door he could only mumble a goodbye before walking back to his car in a small daze too caught up in the little peck you delivered to his cheek. Starting his car he replays the same tape you both had been blasting and having the time of your life to on repeat with sickeningly sweet smile on his face driving back to his side of town.

——

When lessons at Sunghoon's house began it was almost awkward, running into his parents who seemed almost out of touch with kids your age and let alone their money getting to their head. How could you forget the third lesson in Sunghoon's pool and you were doing a lap, the feeling of cold water on your skin and the familiar scent of sunscreen and melting cherry popsicles that were sitting on the plastic wrappers.

You could hear the sound of the back door sliding open to which you only assumed was the lanky brunette boy coming back with whatever snacks he could find for you both. But you were completely and utterly wrong. It was his mother Mrs. Park, you could see where Sunghoon had gotten his looks from he was almost a carbon copy from the smile to the beauty marks that littered her face and neck, brunette hair just like her son, she looked to be in her early 40's or late 30's yet no wrinkles on her flawless skin.

You swim to the edge as she stood there "hello" she says politely to which only makes you smile and return the greeting "are you Sunghoon's girlfriend? I've never seen him bring a girl home before" the woman giggles as she looks down on you, almost as if she was judging your looks to see if you were fit for her son just based upon looks alone.

"I'm not. We met at the community pool where I work at" you smile at her but you watch as her smile almost fades "you work a job...on the North?" She asks sounding almost disgusted at the sound of it. You let your smile drop, your first impression of his mother seemed to not be going well already, though you weren't the type to judge someone based off first conversation yet the look on her face says it all.

"I do, but I live on the West, getting around is hard when your only ride is a bike while your money goes to tuition" you says letting out an awkward huff of a chuckle. "Right... what college are you applying for hon?" She asks tilting her head "most likely Duke or Brown. I'm still debating, my credits and GPA were high enough I just I'm struggling to choose" you say which makes her brows furrow. "Best advice, go to a community college; it saves your cash especially for someone who lives on the west side" she shrugs scrunching her face before turning on her heel and retreating towards the gate that leads directly to the driveway.

You clench your teeth at the comment watching the privileged woman walk away with her head held high. You didn't like people who looked down on you for social class, and you would think that because Sunghoon didn't treat you any less than because he figured out that you weren't living it up in the suburbs sipping on wine coolers and inviting boys over that his mom would be less than pretentious and not make comments.

But what could you expect from a rich woman with nerve and audacity. "Hey, you okay?" Sunghoon says trying to slip past the small crack in between the sliding door and the doorframe. He looked stuck but you could only giggle letting the moment with his mother past. "Yeah I'm good, what did you find in the pantry this time princess?" You laugh as you lift yourself on the warm concrete soaking it in the shape of your thighs and hands while water dripped all over the place.

"Nothin' much peaches, just stuff to make s'more on the stove and a pack of cherries from the fridge" he says holding up the plastics bags filled with different things wiggling them around teasingly. Peaches, he had been calling you that for a while now. After you kissed his cheek he could smell the peach lipgloss you had marked his cheek with.

"Before we even eat I want to try half of a lap around the pool. You can touch 10 feet for me right?" You ask mindlessly looking at the pool as the orange-ish hues from the sky bounce off the heavy chlorine filled pool. For you? Of course Sunghoon would do it for you. He doesn't know what's gotten into him since a week has passed and that kiss on the cheek had practically aligned the sun and moon for him. He was fuzzy in the head and anytime he thought about it he couldn't help but hold a hand to his heated cheek in the same spot.

"Hm? Hoon. You can do it right?" You ask once again breaking him from his thoughts immediately as he nods dumbly. "Yeah, no I can do it. I've been training for this" he says lying through his teeth. He was shitting himself, yes he did trust your lessons and he's been swimming without a floaty for half a week but he doesn't trust himself. Sunghoon has been so eager to impress you that even when you leave after lessons he sits in the pool for an extra hour or two to keep trying. He doesn't want to waste your time.

"I'll watch, I'm gonna be in the pool too. You don't have to be scared because I'll keep watch and if you want to quit midway I'll come get you" you say sweetly. Sunghoon softens completely, you were so nice for what? It didn't make sense to him; you and him were so different in so many ways, yet you go out of your way to do all these nice things for him while he can barely offer to drive you home after lessons without you putting up a fight.

You pull him by his forearm to the pool while he messily tosses down the bags of food into a lawn chair, guiding him over to the stairs only at five feet, the both of you walking in like it's a routine you have been doing for weeks now. The water feels warm now as it laps over your skin and darkening the red color of your swimsuit.

"You ready?" You ask looking over at the weary boy who seemed to be in deep thought staring blankly the water ahead, he thought of how it got deeper and even though he was attempting to achieve getting farther into the deep end 10 feet was nothing. "Mhm" he nodded as his eyes narrowed, he refused to let himself be embarrassed in front of you again and he wanted to prove he was making progress without a stupid floating toy holding him up.

"Just remember to come up for air if it starts to become too much" you mumble bringing your finger to your mouth anxiously biting at your nail that had chipped away polish on it. Sunghoon let himself walk deeper into the pool until he feel it was harder to reach with his feet. Sucking in a deep breath his eyes are screwed shut tightly, letting himself sink under the water.

He does exactly what you taught him, kicking his feet and basically scooping up water to push himself further to the 10 foot mark on the side of the pool. Not wanting to go any further his eyes burned from the chemicals, rushing to the top of the pool he paddles himself to the edge gripping the concrete with an iron grip he was anxious at how far he had gotten and was not ready to push his luck.

When his ears had finally popped he could hear you cheering him, you were smiling so wide that sunghoon couldn't help but smile back equal as happy maybe even more, hearing you laugh made his chest swell with pride. While he takes in deep ragged breaths and swims back over, his hair sticking to his face and his eyes red, and blurry. "I did it!" He says nearing you.

Pulling you into a hug the both of you are smiling, you can feel the warm water stick to your skin as well, not that you minded much, lifting your arms around his neck you bask in the hug feeling like a proud teacher who watched her kid get their first A+. But as your giggles and laughs grow quiet the both of you latch onto each other not wanting to waste the moment of being so close and basking in the sweet and sentimental achievement.

Sunghoon's hold on your waist tightens as he leans back to catch your gaze. He looked unreal, his eyes red, water dripping from his hair down his face, his lips puffy and stained from eating popsicles, and his skin was so warm pressed against yours. Your hand moving from his shoulder to the side of his neck, you could see the way his sharp eyes flicker from your lips back to your eyes.

Hesitantly he leans in, you do the same until your foreheads press together gently and you feel the bridge of your nose bump his your eyes fluttering shut anticipating the warmth of his lips on yours he leans closer, hesitation dripping all over him. You lean in as well, your stomach felt like you had been riding a roller coaster over and over again and the closer you moved together you could feel his warm breath on your lips which makes you feel like you're at the tipping point of the ride and you're about to hit the drop.

Your eyes flutter closed and you both pull together like two magnets as your lips catch each other's softness. You suck in a small breath through your nose as your lips move in a rhythm. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck letting your fingers entangle in his brown hair .

His hand on your hip giving it a small squeeze, his tongue licks a small stripe against your bottom lip making your part your lips, you brush your tongue against his shyly feeling his warm wet tongue against yours. Letting out a small groan, Sunghoon backs you against the tiled wall of the pool lifting one of your legs over his hip. You could feel the bulge behind his shorts grow as it presses into your front.

"Do you wanna come inside? It's getting dark" he mumbled against your lips that were aching from all the hard pressure on your lips yet nodding as you were almost begging for more. You lift yourself onto the still wet concrete feeling the water drip down your legs as your swimsuit sticks to you like a second skin. You watch as Sunghoon pulls himself out and by the gods themselves had the blessed you with the sight.

You could see his muscles and veins protruding throughout his arms, his hair messily dripping wet and falling over his eyes, he looked absolutely delicious with his feint abs glistening with a small happy trail just below his navel. To say that the gods above took their time with Park Sunghoon was an understatement, because they put every attractive trait on that man and gave him a heartbeat.

When he's back to his feet you see a smile on his face as he holds his hand out to you, the excitement rushing through your veins hand your heart beating a mile a minute the wind blowing in your ears makes you shiver, watching him fumble with the sliding door awkwardly before slamming it open after using his fingers to pry it open eagerly by the crack. You could only giggle at how needy he was being as he pulled you inside, this time using the handle this time to shut it.

You've only been through Sunghoon's living room and kitchen, so when he guides you through the spacious halls as you blindly follow him just as eager and needy. When you finally stop in front of a door which you assume is his bedroom you think about how big the door is, how nice his upstairs is. Everything about the Park residence was expensive and gorgeous although it wasn't really the first thing on your mind at the moment.

Sunghoon opens the door to his bedroom, the curtains drowning out anything from the outside world that had nothing to do with him and you right now. Closing the door behind him he gently presses you against the door his lips colliding with yours once again, his hands pressed to your hips you both grind into each other letting the friction get you both worked up while you tug on his hair.

Rubbing your tongue over his the feint taste of cherry popsicles is just as apparent between the both of you. Titling your head to the side deepening the kiss you could feel his hands trail from your hips to the curve of your ass kneading the flesh harshly pulling you even closer if that was even possible.

Your skin sticky as the feint smell of sweat and chlorine became apparent, Sunghoon pulls you both away from the door not bothering to break from the hot and heavy kiss until you come to a stop, Sunghoon's legs hit the edge of the mattress he pulls away sitting down you could see it sink underneath him. His hands greedily pulls at the back of your thigh while his dark eyes look up at you "sit on my lap" he mumbled as he leaves small wet pecks of your stomach.

While you lazily attempt a nod your legs feel heavier than before you straddle his waist, your can feel through the skimpy bottoms of your bathing suit how hard he had become making you smirk. Before pulling him into a kiss much more needier than before, your teeth clashing and tongues tracing, spit falling onto your chins as you sloppily make out.

Your hips slowly start grinding against him earning a low groan, you smile into the kiss as his hands trace from your lower back to your thighs, rubbing gentle shapes into your skin. Slowly pulling back your teeth latch onto his swollen bottom lip making him gasp as his nails dig into the skin of your thighs most likely leaving crescent shaped indents.

Pulling away your lips latch onto his jaw leaving opened mouth kisses down his neck finding the perfect place to suck and bite on his skin, hissing at the feeling Sunghoon was throbbing through his shorts as your finger nails drag across his chest sending shivers down his spine. He didn't mind the feeling of your warm breath on his skin, or the way your hips drag against his, not even when he tilts his head back and he feels your tongue against his throat.

He was utterly intoxicated by the feeling, more than that. Sunghoon was needy, he needed more, but a thought had crept from the back of his mind— he lacks experience in bed, the farthest he had ever gotten is going down on a girl and vise versa, but it made him even more nervous that you wouldn't want to do anything because he is a virgin.

"Wait- wait" he mumbled as he pulls back gently "I've never had sex before" he whispers he looks down at his lap hoping that you wouldn't laugh at him or anything of the such for ever even being inside of someone before. He's 19 for crying out loud, and it makes his skin burn and mind race admitting that to you. Your presence made him vulnerable in ways he's never been with girls he's dated in the past.

Your eyes soften as you sat pressed against his chest "we don't have to do anything you don't want to do" you shake your head as you hoped he would meet your gaze, when his eyes flicker from his lap to your eyes he can see you genuinely mean every word spilling from your lips. "It's not that I don't want to do anything- because god I really want to, I just- I've never went as far as being in between someone's legs" he muttered gently.

Your hands trail up into his hair with a soft smile "if that's what you wanna do then- we can do that" you say nodding your head sternly. You were grateful for his honesty, most boys you've ever had a fair share of hook ups with have always lied about experience, the amount of fake orgasms you've had in your time was one too many in your opinion.

Smiling at your words Sunghoon nods and steals a peck on your lips, humming in satisfaction of your warm glossy lips pressed against his. Your breathing becomes heavier as you let out small choked moans practically be swallowed by Sunghoon; who was absolutely eager and needy he could barely let your lips separate for longer than a second.

"Can you sit on my face?" He whispers breathlessly against your lips, you can feel your legs quiver at the question as his fingers brush against the warm skin on your thighs letting out a shaky breath you nod as you pull yourself out of his lap. Pulling your swimsuit bottoms down and kicking them off your ankles you could barely look at the expression Sunghoon held on his face as your self consciousness had settled within bones.

Sunghoon's eyes met your bottom half, he could see the slick of your own arousal on your thighs and he couldn't wait to have his face between your them. But as his eyes meet your face he could see the worried look you carried making his brows furrow "you look beautiful" he murmurs as he reaches out for your hand tugging you close. "You look really beautiful" he says even louder than before as he leans his head down to meet your gaze hoping to see how genuine he had been.

Seeing your smile rest easily on your lips has him releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. His hand dropping from your hand to the back of your thigh urging you to sit. Straddling over his waist he eases himself on his back as you crawl over his chest. You straddle his face over it as he comes face to face with your pussy making your thighs shake.

Your knees dig into the mattress as you crawl over his face, your thighs trapping his head between your thighs, the smile on his lips makes your stomach flutter. You were nervous to sit down all the way, making you hover over his face cautiously. "What are you doing? Sit all the way" he spoke to him with a small laugh that made his chest bubble.

He's met with the pretty sight of your pussy and thighs glistening in your slick arousal. Looking back up at you his gaze darkened as he gave small kisses against your thigh.

You gasp as you watch his head disappear between your legs. The heat of his mouth nearing your pussy he licks small stripes against your clit before he sensually licks from your entrance to your clit, and sucking on your clit with fervor.

You moan as your head falls back and your fingers find their way to his hair. The sounds you make are so pleasurable to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please fuck me with your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thighs, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cold metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head away he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Don't you?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were heating up, yet if it weren't for the lights that were barely peeking through his window into his bedroom you would see his raging blush. you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words.

"Say it" he demanded, making you clench harder "yes please- please go faster Sunghoon" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on his.He hums as he watches his finger get sucked inside of you. Moaning at the sight with sparkling eyes. His fingers hitting all the right places stuffing your pussy as the sloppy sounds of his fingers pounding into you as if you were his personal fuck toy.

"So good- just for me right?" He asks as his tongue finds its way back to your clit, he looks up at you choking on your moans "yes" you say feeling a familiar pressure build in the pit of your stomach. "I'm so close" you whimper.

sending tingles down your body before he licked big stripes of your cunt, sucking on your clit, his tongue working wonders on you. "Cum on my face- please" he says, his free hand shaking on your thigh. Your hips grind against his face as the feeling of his fingers so deep inside you curling had you gasping for air desperately.

His thumb replacing his tongue as he rubs circles on your clit, your hips shake as your mind is clouded with the sudden rush of your orgasm. You let out an almost pornographic moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you until you ride out your high.

"So good" he coos as you grip his wrist as overstimulation starts to creep in. Waiting for you to come down he slowly removes his fingers as he is eager to taste you.

Sunghoon's dripping fingers make their way up to your clit as his mouth makes its descent to your puffy lips. he pushes his heavy fingers on your clit as he adorns your lips with light pecks and kitten licks before using his free hand to pull them apart and licking your entrance. his mouth sucks hard in its endeavour to taste all of you.

Your hips buck at the feeling the sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more "oh god" you say shivering at the feeling. Pulling away his eyes look up at you while his lips attach themselves to your thigh, he bites and sucks the skin on your thigh in different spots leaving red and purple spots to bloom into hickeys as the hours pass.

Pulling away he lifts his fingers still covered in your cum up to his lips sucking on them becoming addicted to the way you taste. Licking whatever remnants of cum was left on his plump lips "You taste so good" he mumbled as he watched you pull away from him with a poor attempt to catch your breath and come down from the sensitivity between your legs.

"When you said you'd never had sex before I didn't expect you to be that good at going down on someone" you say breathlessly making Sunghoon laugh as he sits up using his forearms to hold his weight. "I didn't say I was bad at being in between someone's legs" he says shaking his head. "Well for a virgin I'm assuming you wouldn't between many peoples legs that much" you huff as your back hits the pillows on his bed. He coos at you while his hand reaches out for you "all that teasing and now you're all pouty" he says as he scoots closer to you landing a hand on your still naked thighs.

Shaking your head at his sudden cockiness "what about you?" You nod at him which earns you a soft yet confused look "what about me?" He asks as he finally adjusts himself to be seated beside you. "You're still hard" you point out as both of your gazes fall to his lap. "Oh. You don't have to worry about that, whenever this happens I'm typically doing all the work before she's off somewhere else" he shrugs like it's nothing .

"But I'm not them, I want to finish you off" you whisper as you roll over onto your chest waiting for him to grant approval of your new found fixation. "Okay" he says wide eyed and slightly breathless. Sunghoon was never on the receiving end of pleasure, and for you to be the first girl to even offer made everything align for him. You were nothing like the other girls he involved himself with; all too shallow and cocky, swimming in money, and selfish.

Sunghoon liked you more than he was leading on yet he didn't mind the feeling that settled within his chest as he watched you settle between his legs. Your fingers latch onto the elastic band of his shorts tugging them down as his painfully hard cock spring free from its confinements. His tip blushing red, yet shining with precum down his shaft. The sight made your mouth water you look up at him who had shown signs of nervousness.

"Show me how you touch yourself" you mumbled looking at his hands that had a tight grip on the bedsheets until his knuckles turned red. Nodding mindlessly his hand finds its way to his shaft as his thumb presses against his slit rubbing it gently his hips buck in sensitivity. Reaching his hand over he lets your fingers wrap around his length. His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were your heavy breathing, Sunghoon's harsh pants that he pressed into your neck, his lips pushing kisses to your throat and shoulders when he could.

"Feels so good" he puffs out with a small groan. His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was, moaning at the feeling your thighs press together at the sweet sounds you pull from his throat. Leaning down flattening your tongue against the underside of his cock you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back against the pillow and his breathing was labored.

Lifting his head from the mattress looking down at you, the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been thinking about all day. This was his selfish wish, to see you on your knees, your lip caught between your teeth, with a look of satisfaction as you get him off.

The feeling of your wet palm rubbing against him slowly has left his breathing unsteady and his mind completely blank. His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were his heavy breathing, and you letting out a small giggle at how big his hand looked over yours as he tightened his grip.

He squeezed you, applying a little more pressure and you did, twisting your wrist a little as you got to his head, thumb stroking over him. His hips lifted into your hand and you couldn't help but clench your thighs tight.

"Your hand feels so good" he groans, His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was and you gasp ripped through you as he pulls away letting his hand run through his hair, eyes rolling back at the feeling.

Pressing a kiss to his tip softly earns you a small hiss at the feeling, dragging your tongue against the underside vein of his cock had his jaw slacked and back to his tip before letting a Pearl of spit fall past your lips watching as it slowly runs down shaft fisting him in your hand a few more times before taking him in your mouth.

He's big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is a plaguing reminder. but you don't mind it too much, you like the thought of him when he's all deep in your mouth and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat it makes you gag, and choke, and your eyes get cloudy with tears to the point they spill over, but it's worth it. It's worth it without fail.

You swallow down the already-there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him ; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the mattress once again.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the sheets in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh, ohmygod" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.

The feeling of his tip repeatedly meeting the back of your throat has you gagging and tightening around him. His head was spinning as he tried not to reach for your hair and face fuck you it was becoming harder. Giving up he teaches for the back of your neck pulling you into him as he becomes more and more addicted to the warm and wet feeling in the back of your throat.

His hips thrust into your mouth as he feels himself becoming closer to his much needed orgasm. He really can't help himself you felt so good around his cock, firm hand on the back of your neck as he thrusted his cock in and out of your pretty mouth while salvia dripping down your chin with every snap of his hips. You looked so damn gorgeous covered in pre-cum and spit for him, he couldn't deny that.

He moaned out your name,"Your fucking mouth,"He moaned out to you, caressed the side of your face with his hand on your cheeks your throat constricted around the thick length but god, you didn't care how sore your jaw was, it was so worth it.

"Please? Can I cum all over your pretty face?" He whined as his brows scrunch as he was getting closer to what he wanted. Barely nodding Sunghoon took his chance to keep fucking your mouth finding heaven. a string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his balls.

he can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

He felt utterly shy as he watched you pull away as strings of cum and spit attached the both of you still, watching as you run a finger against the corner of your lip; cum on your finger you press it against your tongue enjoying every flash of lust in his eyes as you try and catch your breath you laughed. "That was" sunghoon trailed off as he attempts to find the exact words of how he felt in his post-orgasm daze.

"Amazing" you huffed as you rolled over to the empty side of the bed. Sunghoon nodded in agreement as he mentally patted himself on the back at being able to make you finish. When your warm hands touched his bare chest he looked over at you seeing how you cuddled up to his side. The skin to skin contact making warmth wash over the both of you.

Basking in the small silence you can hear Sunghoon's breathing which almost makes you fall asleep in his arms. "I'm having a family function Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?" You look up at him with hopeful eyes that he'd take up the offer. Sunghoon on the other hand was nervous. He had never met your parents, let alone your friends within the month you've been giving him lessons.

"Sure" he said before his mind could even process that he'd be meeting your father, uncles, cousins, aunts, and on the off chance any one of your grandparents. But Sunghoon knew he'd honestly never be ready. "Okay, good" you mumbled as you fight the smile on your lips, sunghoon nods in agreement "good" tumbles out of his mouth just barely as the warmth in his chest starts to grow. The feeling is unsettling for Sunghoon, he's felt butterflies, and his face and ears heating up... but never the warmth in his chest.

"Let's take a shower and then I'll drop you off Hm?" He says looking down at you with utter infatuation. You smile at him as you feel the same unfamiliar warmth. The intimate moments shared in the shower of lingering touches and washing each other's backs and chaste kisses was something that came so easily and it scared you how the moment had come and passed like it was nothing, but your mind would save the moments within your mental scrap book of memories you never wanted to forget.

——

Sunghoon was nervous, he felt like he had been riding rollercoasters all morning; even when he had taken a shower he felt slightly light headed thinking about meeting your family. Excited was another emotion Sunghoon almost felt was eating him up from the inside out and ready to rip through his stomach. Dressing nicely for the hot weather and slicking his hair back. Just a few strands that were irritatingly not cooperating with him on the one day he needed it to.

Yet he let it go and decided that just around the time you had told him to show up, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter and kissing his mom's cheek murmuring out a goodbye. "Where are you off to that has you so spaced out?" Mrs.Park asks with a small smile on her face watching her son stop in his tracks.

sunghoon could feel a smile on his lips "y/n's having a family get together and asked me to stop by for a while and say hi" he says as his smile grows stronger.

Mrs.Parks smile had disappeared just as fast as it had came. "The girl that gives you swimming lessons?" She asked as her tones sported a sort of annoyance in it. "Yeah, we've gotten really close since she started giving me those lessons" he nods smiling as he thought to the last time he had saw you. Close, Mrs. Park doesn't do close. Especially not with lower class girls like you that make her son and family get odd looks.

"That's...great honey, have a good time. Don't forget that the country club is having mid summer festival on Monday, it's gonna start at 8:30" she huffs bitterly with a fake smile on her face. Sunghoon doesn't catch her tone nor does he see the tight lipped smile she gives him, only nodding off and taking his leave without a care in the world. His feet felt lighter and his stomach felt like it had been flipped on the drive to your house.

The houses and people walking on the sidewalks blur past, the same AC/DC tape playing from the night you ran from security at the pool, he couldn't help but smile brightly at the memory of it managed to evolve from strictly swimming lessons to whatever the two of you are now (not that he minded). Turning down the familiar street he could see cars lined up against the curb and some parked in the front lawn grass.

Almost baffled at how many cars there had been parked when normally Sunghoon had dropped you off to 4 cars parked in their driveways. The feint sound of music coming from the small yellow house with pretty garden, and people scattered all over the front lawn. Slowing down as he drove past hoping to catch a glimpse of you he does. Sitting at the top of the steps on the porch fitted in a t-shirt tucked into your high waist shorts that showed off your legs, chunky bright red earrings, and your hair styled just right, paired with some white sneakers.

You looked good, different compared to all the times he's seen you always clad in a bathing suit and towel, shorts and tank tops, and hair messy from swimming. He likes the way you look all the time, as he rolls his windows down you make contact and smile almost immediately, waving. Waving back with a grin he felt giddy seeing how happy you had become by his arrival. He find a spot at the curb and stepping out not forgetting to lock his doors like you advised the first time he dropped you off home.

He already has a fond memory at your front doorstep that clouds his mind as you leave a peach scented lip gloss stain on his warm cheek. Blinking away his thoughts as he sees you meet him halfway between the yard and sidewalk with a bright smile.

"Hey, I was wondering when you'd show up. My mom is really excited to meet you" you gush as Sunghoon pulls you in for an almost bone crushing hug. Both of you were surprised by his action. Sunghoon had seen you no less than 48 hours ago yet he was hugging you like he hadn't seen a glimpse of you in years.

Your face heated up at the sudden affection he showed you no less in front of some of your family members scattered around the front lawn. Finding comfort in his tight embrace you wrap your arms around his neck and let your eyes flutter shut as you take in the intimate moment not wanting to pull away at the now familiar warmth in your chest began to grow and your stomach felt like it had flipped.

Slowly pulling away Sunghoon's arms are lazily wrapped around your waist as you hold a minimum eye contact. "Everyone's in the backyard waiting for food, I want you to meet my grandma first" you smile as you think about the sweet aged woman who was awfully honest and hilarious without trying.

"Sounds good, I can't wait to meet her" he says with a bright smile. Hearing how much you were looking forward to introducing him to your family members. When you escort him to the large gate that separated your yard from your neighbors he felt like he could vomit from being so nervous. Wearing a tight lipped smile that screamed 'im going to cry any second'.

But the sight behind the gate made his brown eyes soften; you family dancing and laughing, drinking, younger kids chasing each other around, while the older kids sit at tables talking and gossiping about their summer. Sunghoon had never been in this environment once, just narrow eyes and gossip, expensive family dinners and posh music.

Your family was cool and the most interactive he had ever seen one outside of his small circle of friends who could barely say the same. The music blasts through one of the biggest boom boxes he had ever seen propped up on an empty table. "Wow" he whispers to himself as adoration fills your eyes at the sight of your family. "Come on, I want you say hi to everyone. I don't want it to be an hour from now and someone says 'so your friend can't speak' it happened the last time I brought a friend over. Never again" you say.

Nodding his head Sunghoon watched you shut the gate and guide you towards a large cushioned chair, he assumed by the gray hair peaking over it was your grandma and his smile hadn't wavered once. Your hand rests on the spine of the chair as your face brightens "grandma, I want you to meet my friend Sunghoon" you smile enthusiastically as her lips stretch into a smile.

"Oh! Hello, it's so nice to meet you. You're so handsome" she gushed as her eyes meet Sunghoon's as he laughs at the compliment from the elder women. "Thank you, it's nice to meet you as well! Y/n told me great things about you" he says remembering the time one of your days at the community pool when you told him about how your grandmother taught you how to swim in the large swimming pool she used to own.

"Y/n! How'd you find such a nice boy?" She smiles as she reaches her hand out for Sunghoon's pale one. Grasping it softly she shakes his hand "I met him at the community pool, and I give him swimming lessons" you smile fondly at the two holding hands. "Oh, you live on the north end of town? I heard it's pretty nice over there" your grandma nods. Sunghoon felt flushed and almost embarrassed he didn't know how anyone would react to not living remotely close to how they do.

"No, he lives on the East side, just a few blocks from where grandpa used to live back when you were in high school" you say making your grandma shoot you a surprised look "east side? Do people still grow those little cherry trees in the lawns?" She asks reminiscing her teen years. "Some do, my family doesn't have any trees we have little bushes and a small vegetable garden" he sulks.

"We have a peach tree over there in the corner, but we don't really eat the peaches because my mom is scared that there gonna make us sick or something" you smile. "We should pick some and clean them up sometime" Sunghoon says making you nod. "Go ahead and bring him to your mom, you know how crazy she gets about guests who don't speak" your grandma rolls her eyes just thinking about it.

You laugh and nod your head, Sunghoon bids your Grandmother goodbye as you guide him closer to a crowd of women. Their eyes pierce through him like a pack of Lions preying on their next 'meal' of judgement. "Is this Sunghoon? The boy you've been helping?" Your mom asks a cross the table and Sunghoon could've swore he was looking at the older version of you, yet she looked to be about late thirties with no wrinkles in sight nor a gray hair.

"Mhm, Sunghoon this is my mom" you smile as you wrap your arm comfortably around her waist smiling up at him. "It's so nice to meet you, I'm glad to put a face to a name that I'm hearing of often" your mom says making your face heat up in embarrassment at how easily she could say that. "Glad to know y/n talks about me" Sunghoon smirks at the idea of you talking to your parents about him.

"Y/n can you go in and check on the food in the oven?" Your mom asks as her hand rubs against your shoulder comfortingly. "Sure. If anything is done do you want me to set it out?" You ask pulling away from her grasp she hums watching you pass Sunghoon's now stiff standing figure as he and your mother share awkward eye contact.

Seeing that you were now out of ear shot your mom now taking her chance to evaluate Sunghoon fully. He's handsome, rich, a gentleman, polite, teasing yet humble. "Does she make you happy?" Your mom blurts it was almost surprising to Sunghoon if it hadn't been for the way her lips had twitched and her eyes narrowed while she stared him down.

"Very" he answers quickly, the sudden feeling of being interrogated washed over him. "Good, because I can tell you make her happy. She never brings friends over, let alone a boy. So your special" she says adoring the thought of her child finally showing off her social skills to her family. "I very well I hope I am. She's the nicest, most selfless and considerate person I have ever met" he says with a soft smile and eyes filled with an unknown look.

"Keep her. And I'm not saying it as her mom, I'm saying it because you look like a lovesick puppy just thinking about her" your mom laughs. "What was it like for you when you met the first person you loved?" Sunghoon asks pensively hoping for a serious answer. "I met him in High school, I held on to him, we got married and had y/n. We may not be the richest family but we do what we can" she says thinking of all her years with your father and you.

"Did it ever feel...scary? Not like a stupid crush but something that just doesn't feel real?" He asks once again. Your mom genuinely couldn't help the smile on her face "love is different for everyone, so I couldn't tell you exactly how love feels, but if your interested in someone else your not in love" she says reaching out to pat his arm.

——

Watching through the kitchen window the heat of the oven making the entire house feel like sauna; you watch your mom and Sunghoon converse in the middle of the backyard. You squint your eyes hoping you could read their lips but the beaming sun shining off the glass tables aimed straight for the window almost takes out your ability to have vision completely.

You sigh as you grab oven mitts off the counter seeing how ragged and charred from its run in time you make a small sound in disgust as you open the oven door feeling an even hotter wave roll out onto your skin looking inside seeing a pie baked crisply, smiling as you realize your mom made a peach pie, one of your favorites.

Pulling it out of the oven carefully the warmth of the tin holding the desert seeps through the fabric warming up your palms. You carefully find a free spot on the stove that hadn't been filled by a pot or pan filled with food. You hear the back door sliding open making you look over your shoulder to see Sunghoon standing Awkwardly in the small dining room finding his way through the table and chairs.

Standing in the small doorway watching as you take off the oven mits "you look like someone's mom" he smiles as you toss them onto the counter "yeah right, I'm bad with kids" you laugh even thinking about having to babysit someone else's child. "I doubt that, you work where tons of kids are for hours" Sunghoon says furrowing his brows. "Yet your kid friend still managed to make you drown" your lips curl awkwardly.

"You did not have to bring that up" he points a finger at you sulking at the memory which makes your lips quirk in a smile "I'm sorry, I won't bring it up again" you almost giggle at the pout on his lips. Dragging your feet over to him your arms slink around his neck making his stomach instantly flutter. Like second nature his hands wrap around your waist "yeah? You promise?" He asks with a grin pulling your hips into his.

"Mhm, I promise" you coo as you rake your fingers through his soft hair. "Thank you" he whispers as he leans in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips making you hum unsatisfied with how quick the feeling of his lips on yours felt. "One more kiss" you say dazed looking into his eyes. "Just one more?" He asks softly, you knew it wasn't going to be just one more making you snicker and shake your head.

Pressing your lips to his, shifting over until his back was pressed against the archway, hands perched against your lower back rubbing comforting circles against the fabric. The sound of the back door being pulled open again makes the two of you rip away almost immediately as your cousin comes into view holding a baby wrapped in a small blanket.

"Relax it's just me. Where's your mom's room? I need to put her down for a nap or else she'll get fussy" she says smirking at the two of you smugly, wiping the corner of your mouth shyly you point to the hallway "down there last door on the right" you whisper. She nods as she walks away eyeing up Sunghoon with audacious eyes almost as if she was evaluating him.

His head falls back against the wall looking up at the ceiling as his face is flushed. Sunghoon felt like his stomach had dropped to his ass when the two of you heard the door open only to be relieved when someone just about your age had walked in. "Is that her baby?" He asks curiously as he hears the door to a bedroom click shut.

You nod "no that's her sister, she practically raises the child herself" you roll your eyes at the thought of your aunt who loudly talks and drinks, and hands off her baby to anyone who has free hands. "Ah, you wanna go back outside for a bit it's really warm in here" Sunghoon says as he wipes the small sheen of sweat building up at the back of his neck.

Nodding you both walk out the same way you entered hearing all of the loudness and joy of your family come to surface. It was chaotic hearing the squeal of your younger cousins and the shouting of your uncles as they talk about whatever in the moment had them rowdy.

You felt a tug at your jeans shorts making you look down with furrowed brows until they soften at the sight of one of your smaller cousins at the ripe age of 5 doe eyed and clueless as she holds her arms up awaiting a seat on your hip making you smile at the young girl. "I haven't seen you all morning" you coo at her with a sweet grin. She smiles as her feet are no longer touching the ground as you engulf her in a sweet hug and her legs wrap around your hip.

"I went to go play- and I saw a really pretty flower that I want to give you so I came back" she says her eyes turning to crescents with a sweet smile on her lips as she struggles to let out the words that had already been made up in her mind but you understood perfectly. Reaching into the pockets of her tiny dress you see a small damaged flower, the green stem bent out of shape and some of the small purple petals missing.

Nonetheless you accepted the flower with a smile and nothing but a warmth in the pit of your stomach thank you, it's so pretty" you say as your smile had made the girl reciprocate the same face. Tucking the flower into your hair the petals itching at your temple that you ignore.

From your angle you had missed the way Sunghoon's face had softened and his ears turned slightly red 'not good with kids my ass' was on the top of his tongue yet he held it back watching you set the young girl back down on her feet watching her bicker about being put down with a smile on your face watching the stubborn young girl gripe about the rejection of affection she wanted give her older cousin only brushed off with "I have company but when I get the chance I'll come find you okay?" You say but the girls short attention span caves in on her only running off mumbling a confirmation she understood.

"I thought you were bad with kids?" Sunghoon asks scrunching his nose "she's my favorite kid so I try" you grin making him shake his head "I thought they say 'i can't pick a favorite' when it came to family?" Sunghoon adds making you laugh. "They say that about kids, nobody says it's a rule with cousins because I definitely have favorites" you nod firmly to stand on your point.

"Why is she your favorite?" He asks as he watches the small girl run hurriedly into the crowd of your other cousins to which he assumed were playing tag. "She reminds me of myself when I was younger. Always trying to make other people happy" you say with a feint smile adorning your lips. "She feels like the little sister I never got to have" you say as your eyes latch onto Sunghoon's side profile as he watched your family with envious eyes.

"Why don't we sit down for a while and wait until dinners ready" you say patting his back softly making his eyes rip away from everyone else and zero in on you. "Yeah, what are we eat?" He asks which makes you smile "well at parties like these it's a lot of stuff so you can choose whatever you want and eat it. If you want seconds you can always go back for more" you nod as you guide him to an empty seat at the table filled with all your cousins around yours and Sunghoon's age.

——

Well into a few hours after eating and talking it had started to become dark, all the younger kids settled into the living room watching cartoons or sleeping in random rooms that their parents could find. A small bonfire had been made you and sunghoon settled down in two lawn chairs letting the warmth of the fire run over your skin. One of your uncles slipping the both of you bottles of beer with a sheer smirk only turning away with the face of innocence like nothing happened.

"Did you have fun?" You ask Sunghoon watching his eyes stare into the pit of heat, orange hues wash over his face flickering as the crackling of the fire bring a sort of calmness to the atmosphere. "Yeah, I don't think I've seen a family as hyper as yours other than in movies" he laughs. "Is that a bad thing? Being hyper I mean?" You ask with a slight tilt hoping to catch the look in his eyes.

His head snaps towards you with wide eyes almost panicked "no! Not at all- it's a great thing I just, I'm never this close with my family" he trailed off awkwardly making your lips fall into a small frown. "I know Hoon I'm just fucking with you" you smile as you pat his thigh. Sunghoon makes a sound of false annoyance before his eyes eyes narrowed at you.

Then he noticed the way your arms wrapped around your torso tightly as you began to shiver, the night winds starting to pick up. Sunghoon felt guilty for not having a jacket "you cold?" He asks as he scoots the lawn chair closer hearing the distinct chattering of your teeth. "Yeah but...I'll be fine" you say waving him off making Sunghoon's brows furrow in confusion.

"No, we're going inside it's too cold and you'll get sick" he disapproved of your dismissive attitude as he stands up from the chair holding his hand out to you. Your eyes hold a longing question back. "Are- are you sure you want to come inside? You can go home if you want to I'm sure your tired" you ask with genuine concern.

"I want to see what your room looks like. What kid of host doesn't show their guest around? That's like proper hosting etiquette" Sunghoon snarks as he shakes his hand feigning annoyance at you for not taking it. Your warm fingers tangle themselves between his as he uses basic strength to haul you out of your chair. "I think you need more west side friends hoon.... even they'd tell you to never invite people in your house, that's how shit gets stolen" you say as the both of you begin to treck through following the dim light that shines through the small back door.

"Do I have to worry about that with you?" He asks jokingly and you immediately push his arm making him stumble. The both of you completely forgetting your holding hands making him drag you along with him during his side steps earning a giggle out of you. "Why because I'm from the west side?" You asked with a playful tone but you see Sunghoon's playful smile drop to something more serious "never" he flatly answers making you straighten up.

"I know, don't worry about it I would never steal anyways, my mom raised me better than that" you say hoping to air out the serious tone before the both of you were alone. The both of you finally are engulfed in the familiar warmth of the house as the lights are more dim. Neither of you knowing exactly what time it is and not that it matters you were too wrapped up in the comforting silence and presence of Sunghoon to care.

"You said you wanted a tour right?" You ask looking over at him seeing how he wrapped his arms around himself rubbing his bare arms hoping to get rid of the goosebumps that had risen on his skin. "Yeah, Show me around please?" He asks as he awaits your guide around the small home.

You trail through the kitchen that he had already been in once before, tracking into a small living room with a singular couch and a reclining chair all filled with sleeping kids. Stepping carefully through the small slumped bodies you and Sunghoon stop in front of a wall littered in paintings and pictures of you and your family.

One had caught his eye though; a picture of you and your grandma when she was visibly much younger. You were in a floaty that looked almost identical to the one sunghoon had been using at the community pool. You were smiling as your grandma held onto the pink plastic as the water you kicked had turned into a big blur behind you. Sunghoon smiled softly just imagining a younger you going through the same struggle he is now with disheveled hair and a few teeth missing.

"Who took this picture?" He asks as he smiles at the sight of your younger self as you described. "My grandpa, he and my grandpa didn't live that far away from your house. But after he passed she couldn't afford the rent or taking care of herself alone" you say lowly thinking about how your grandmother had to move in with your family after the loss of her husband.

"Where does she live now?" He asks, though Sunghoon didn't want to pry he wanted to know as much as he could about you and your family. "Here, she has my old room and I have the attic" you shake your head. "Is it not scary up there?" He asks with an undertone of concer written on his face. "It used to freak the absolute fuck out of me. My older cousins used to tell me that spirits haunt the attic and slept on the fucking couch for a month" you almost pout at the the thought of thirteen year old you bundled on the couch in the dark praying the spirits would decide your feeble under-grown body wasn't worth eating.

"And you believed it?" Sunghoon was almost at a loss for words. "You wouldn't? I believed anything those shit heads told me when I was a kid. Now I'm the one telling my cousins if they say Bloody Mary in the mirror three times she'll kill them" you chuckle as you think about the stupid myth that even you believed at one point.

"So you've turned into one of those shit heads?" He asks with clear amusement written all over his face "I take all the credit for all the kids ages 10 through 15 trauma of traditional scary stories" you shrug holding back your smile. "Yeah I see it, you really are a shit head. If my cousins ever did that to me we'd never speak again" Sunghoon jokes making you shove him.

The moment of silence was comforting as the both of you continue to skim over the wall of pictures, sometimes he'd point out one of you over the year and you'd explain. After a while you both managed to trail over to the door that led to the attic. A hallway with two doors, it had seemed very ominous but if it wasn't for the fact that there was a light in the very small hallway.

"I heard a rumor during Sophomore year you shanked a girl in the locker rooms, and if this is your way of taking me out; make it quick" Sunghoon mumbled shakily becoming all too stressed out at the quietness between you two. "You knew me during Sophomore year?" You ask turning your head stopping in the middle of the narrow staircase to look at him.

"Is that all you got of that entire sentence?" He deadpanned. "Well I heard that you got a hand job under the bleacher last year by that Mandy chick who smokes cigarettes in the bathroom" you laugh at the mumbles and rumors that spread like wild fire about Sunghoon and his friends in high school.

"How come we were never friends in school?" He asks completely brushing off your comment, "because I wasn't rich and you weren't exactly the nicest to my friends" you say with a wince remembering one of your run ins with Sunghoon and the rest of his rich preppy friends that he ran around school with.

"What? I was nice to everybody in school" he says defensively. "Park Jisung, the week before Christmas break. You and one of your friends were fighting and basically slammed him into his locker and neither of you said sorry" you say deadpanned earning a hiss from Sunghoon. "Ouch, I don't exactly remember that but now I feel bad" he says with guilt dripping all over his tone as the both of you finally reach the top of the stairs.

Guiding him past the very first door you and Sunghoon enter your bedroom. Neat, decorated, and a lot of records arranged by artist and genre. "Why do you have a picture of Johnny Depp above your bed?" He asks as he eyes the poster poorly taped to your ceiling. "Don't worry about that" you feel your body heat up.

"Right... your room is nice. I knew you had thing for music but I didn't know you had an entire bookshelf dedicated to records" he says as his fingers trail over the many plastic coverings reading them off. "It's a lot of rap in here" he says as he pulls out a random tape skimming over the cover to see it.

You smile "some of those were my dads, he has a real knack for music. But he listens more to Jazz and old school" you shrug as your fingers brush against the rim of one of the old dusty cases of a tape.As Sunghoon's eyes trail around your room once for hoping he wouldn't miss a single detail he see's a small box TV with a small pile of movies and a VCR on top of a long dresser that seemed to be catching up in age as it had paint scratched off and faded old stickers he assumed was from when you were much younger.

"So you've never had anyone in here before?" He asked as he walks a few steps closer, you could feel the air becoming warmer as you heard the slight undertone of suggestiveness in his words. "Nope, nobody was special enough to make the cut" you murmur as you sit on the edge of your bed. "So I'm special?" Sunghoon asks with fire in his eyes as he understands the meaning behind your moms words.

"You could say that" you shrug stubbornly as you look up at him who was only 2 strides away from his legs touching your knees. "You know I am" He nods firmly as if he was trying to convince you to say it out loud. "Only special people get to lay in bed with me and help completely hot box the shit out of my room" you say lifting a brow up at him suggesting he takes the offer.

"What makes you think I smoke weed?" He asks with narrow eyes. Sunghoon does smoke he just wants to be difficult and rile you up. "Because the last time we were in your room I saw an ash tray and a half smoked blunt sitting inside of it" you purse your lips looking at him with expectant eyes. "And you kind of always smell like weed mixed with cologne" you shrug as you attempt to roll onto the other side of the bed and open the bed side drawer with a glass bong standing tall.

Grabbing all of the necessities you smile at the glass shaped like a woman's naked body. Packing the bowl with the green plant and pressing down gently with your finger your hand scampers around the sheets for your lighter. "Sit on the bed don't be shy it's not like I'm gonna smash it on your head" you say with a grin as you see sunghoon sit on the edge and grabbing the small metal lighter off your pillow.

"Seems like you know what you're doing" he says in a matter-of-fact way which makes you scoff. "I smoke a lot sue me. Working with a bunch of kids and parents all week makes me need soothing" you crack a smile at how stressed you sound. "When did you start smoking?" He asks quizzically making you laugh. "When I was 16? One of my friends had helped me sneak out for the first time to a party and she wanted to teach me so she shot gunned me until I actually wanted to smoke from the blunt" you explained as you was the flame of the lighter flicker and engulf the weed.

Sunghoon watches as you take the very first hit as the smoke builds inside of the see through glass as the bubbles formulate, you pull the small tube attached to the bowl taking a larger hit to clear the rest of the smoke before holding it in your lungs and exhaling to let out the largest puff of smoke Sunghoon has ever seen someone indulge in ever.

Watching you a few more times you finally hold it out for Sunghoon who takes it following in what he saw you do. The both of you are practically sinking into your bed on different side as the both of you talk nonsense and memories. "Wait...do you have a record player?" Sunghoon asks as he finally realized as he looks at the bedside table to see the old red and black record player.

"Yeah...choose a song and play it" you say slowly as your eyes feel heavy. The fur blanket underneath you bringing you slight warmth, as the tall lamp in the corner of your room was dim and brought a warmth to the look of your bed room and your pillows threatened to pull you into sleep. But the sudden movements of Sunghoon standing up from your bed and blowing your thick shelf of records kept you wide awake.

The distant sound of your family still outside loud as can be drinking and probably playing a card game brought you a sense of familiarity and a small smile on your face. Lugging himself back over to your bed and slumping himself close enough to your thighs he hands you a record "Selena....didn't expect that" you say softly as you tilt your head opening the jacket and watching carefully pulling to the round shiny black disk from the pocket of the record casing.

Leaning over you set the record on the platter and position the tone arm before hearing the soft crackles of the track beginning. Hearing the beat of 'Dreaming of you' beginning to play brings you relaxation. "When did you listen to love songs? I've only heard you listen to rock and a little of pop" you smile hazily while teasing the brunette boy.

"Who says I can't be romantic?" He asks looking up at you with an arched brow. "I'd just like to see it myself, I know you may have a lot of girls chasing you for the experience but I want front row seats" you smirk as your hand lifts to his hair carding through his dark locks. Sunghoon's hand wraps around your wrist as he keeps your hand on the back of his neck as he slowly leans into you.

Pressing a soft chaste kiss to your lips as if you were glass and if he kissed you any harder you would break. Both of your eyes are low and red, as you both search each other's eyes for any sign of wanting to stop but neither of your faces showed an ounce of it. Slotting your lips between his your lips move at a more passionate rate.

You felt Sunghoon's hand press flat against your thigh needing your skin as his tongue licks a small stripe against your lip, taking it the hint your tongue presses against his making you moan softly into his mouth. Sitting up from his position on his stomach Sunghoon can feel the kiss grow more intense. His hand finds your cheek as he sits up on his knees gently guiding you on your back with your head against the pillow.

His body hovering over yours his hand on one side of your head while the other begins to travel your body down to your upper thigh. Tugging on his hair as your feel the aching between your thighs start to pound. His hands settling on your hip gripping it. Gasping you pull away from the kiss Sunghoon slightly chasing for the feeling. "Do you....want to keep going? I don't want you to think you have to" you say just above a whisper as you and sunghoon hold a stare.

Everything had fallen into place for Sunghoon, he hadn't even cared enough to realize he was getting hard in his jeans from just kissing you in the moment, but he wasn't apposed to the idea at all. "Yeah- yeah I'm ready" He staggered over his words in such a list driven daze. Pressing open mouth kisses to your exposed neck sucking and biting the spot just below your ear that had your moaning softly as you grind against lap pressed against you agonizingly hard.

The friction was just barely enough making you almost whine. As your grip on his hair loosens and your breathing becomes heavier. Sunghoon was becoming needy, he wanted to feel you; all of you. Grabbing onto the hem of your shirt letting his cold hand touch the warm bare skin of your waist.

Although Sunghoon has seen you naked and has kissed you before it all feels different, his stomach was churning, his body was impatient and needy, his hands wants to touch every part of your body he possibly could that you would allow. "Can I take this off?" He asks slipping his hand from under your shirt and tugging at the fabric anticipating your true answer.

"Yeah. Take as much or as little as you want. You want to do this sunghoon so I'm telling you that you don't have to ask for everything when you know the answer is yes" you explain softly, you understood that this was Sunghoon's first time but you want it to come naturally and that he needed not to worry at all.

Inhaling a shaky breath he nods as he pulls your shirt over your head and tossing onto the floor without a care in the world, his lips latch onto your chest kiss and sucking marks all over your collarbones while his hands settle on your waist. Letting your head lay comfortably against the pillow you let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his warm open mouthed kisses against your skin.

Feeling him become more eager as he trails his kisses further down your chest until he reaches the fabric of your bra pressing his face in between your mounds and inhaling the sweet perfume you had on. Your eyes roll back at the feeling making you pull down the straps and unhook it completely. With lust hazed eyes Sunghoon looks up at you as you pull down your bra and drop it onto the floor next to your shirt.

Sunghoon could feel himself twitch in his pants at the sight of you completely topless, your breast look so pretty and he can't help but touch you more and more growing desperate to strip you of every last bit of clothes, touch and kiss every inch he could discover.

Licking a stripe on one of your nipples you roll your hips at the feeling. But as soon as he pulled away you whine, "sit on my lap" he says in a low tone.

Catching a glimpse of the look on his face as the both of you shift until Sunghoon's back presses against the headboard. Pulling his jeans down and tossing them on the floor he looks up expectantly waiting for you to pull yours off as well.

Understanding without saying a word you pull them off discarding them with his as well. Leaving you in your panties that were sticking to you with a small wet patch seeping through the thin fabric.

Crawling into his lap your press your ass down on his bulge with no regard earning you a choked moan. You could feel as your pussy practically stuck to the wet fabric of your panties while you grind your hips against him.

The small wet watch of precum becomes larger as your panties make friction soaking his underwear as well. The outline of his cock rubbing against your clit makes your head spin and you couldn't help but moan and grind harder against him.

"You feel so good" you whimper hearing the sticky sounds of your slick thighs rubbing together, it was messy yet the both of you were too eager chasing some form of an orgasm to care what kind of mess you make.

As you look down at Sunghoon whose head was thrown back while he lets out the deepest groans of pleasure. His hands guiding your hips against his at a faster pace makes you choke out louder moans.

"Fuck" he whispered harshly as you land your eyes on a dazed Sunghoon who was on cloud 9.

You moan at the sight of him making Sunghoon open his eyes and look up at you, "you looked too good" you whisper placing one of your hands down on his lower abdomen as you feel Sunghoon buck his hips into you faster.

The feeling of the fabric running against your pussy slightly burned but it felt too good to care. "Feels so good" he grumbled as the pressure began to build. The both of you chasing your orgasms push your panties to the side rubbing your bare pussy against the fabric of his boxers at a fast pace that makes you whine.

You gasp feeling yourself being sent over the edge, Sunghoon began to slow down but you only shake your head as you anticipate him reaching his peak. "Please keep going, I want you to cum" you moan as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind a trail of red marks.

Your needy words make his eyes roll back as he pushes your hips down, he ruts into you as he moans shamelessly. Sunghoon had no idea if it was just the weed or if your pussy had fucking magic but your sweet moans and the sloppy sounds send him into a spiral of pleasure.

His cum seeps through his boxers as his hips twitch in a bit of overstimulation he didn't care, his hips slow down and then stop completely as he feels himself slowly coming back down to earth.

He lets out a large huff as a shy smile finds its way on his face, he can't believe he just came in his boxers after literally letting you dry hump him like a needy puppy. His hands grip at the flesh of your ass he lets out a small chuckle with a smirk on his lips.

"You're driving me crazy- fuck" he groaned as he continues to catch his breath. You giggle at him still feeling your mind trying to process. You've had sex many times high, drunk, but mostly sober, and none of those times had an orgasm ever felt so good to the point your thighs quivered or you had been at a loss for words. Yet here you were with Park Sunghoon some rich boy you've been hanging out with all summer high and hooking up in your bed room.

No less it was passionate, you didn't understand how a heated make out could lead up to taking someone's virginity but you didn't question it. You were content with just kissing and grinding against the cute brunette boy.

You weren't the only one feeling this way, Sunghoon would have never seen himself actually getting close to third place. Before summer Sunghoon had kept 2 secrets to himself:

1. He doesn't know how to swim,

2. He is a raging virgin.

But no thanks to you by the end of the summer he assumes neither of those things he will have to worry about anymore. The thought makes him smile at you. "What?" You ask sitting up in his lap letting your arms wrap around his neck comfortably. "You teach me how to do a lot of things. Are you sure your a great influence?" He teases as he presses his nose against yours holding eye contact.

"I don't know, are you learning anything valuable with me?" You ask pressing your hips against his with a tilt to the head and a small hum. "Yeah I am" He says pressing small kisses to the corner of you lips, then to your neck and shoulders. "I wanna keep going" he mumbled making you meet his soft gaze. "We can keep going Sunghoon I don't mind" you laugh softly.

"I'll take care of you, I promise you can always tell me to stop" you whispered as you plant a soft kiss on his warm cheek, your hand landed on his rubbing comforting circles on his knuckles. Slowly turning his head, your forehead gently presses against his, the bridge of your nose grazing his you both lean in closing the small gap.

And the moment your lips meet it felt like your very first one, kissing messily while your teeth and tongues clash and your moans practically mixing I to background noise along with the music. He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips. "We'll go real slow" you mumbled pressing chaste kisses to his lips that made him chase after them hoping for more.

Pulling away far enough, your hand angling his jaw to the side getting a good view of his blank skin just waiting to be marked with purple and red splotches. Your lips pressed into his skin earning a soft huff from him. Your tongue running against his skin left him gripping against the edge of your mattress letting his nails dig into the material leaving behind crescent shapes.

Your teeth brush against a spot on his neck that had him choking on a moan "does that feel good right there?" You ask seductively looking down at the wet red splotch on his skin where a small mole had sat idly. Kissing the same spot gently you feel him nod. Humming as you kiss along the nape of his neck and littering hickeys until you reach the hem of his collar. "You wanna take this off for me?" You mumble tugging on his shirt.

"Yeah- I can take it off" he whispered almost as if he were nervous. Sunghoon has never been on the bottom nor has he been inside someone, ever or even coming close. He always thought to take charge, but the way you were kissing his sweet spot and talking to him had him ready to let you do whatever you wanted to him as he pulled his loose shirt over his head messing with his long brown hair messily falling back against his forehead.

To you he looked like he had been made from the heavens above, his skin pale and imperfect yet every scar, mole, freckle, and scab that littered his body. The image of him under you moaning alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you wanted to feel some sort of relief.

Your cold hands met the warm skin on his chest trailing down to his stomach and down to his v-line where you could see a faint-happy trail that disappeared into the boxers that were practically suffocating him. "Lay back" you whisper to him as you slightly put pressure on his stomach implying that you wanted his head to meet the warm soft sheets on your bed.

Your hands rub over him as a trail of goosebumps follows up his skin. "I wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel" you mumble as you lean down your hair falling over your shoulder you press a kiss to his plump lips that were starting to become red and swollen with every passing moment.

Trailing your lips down the column of his throat as he swallows the lump in his throat harshly. Moving down to his collarbones you nip at his skin with your teeth kissing the same spots continuing to give him his own slow and pleasure-filled torture. He chokes out a moan as your warm tongue traced around his nipple and his hips jerk up into you almost shocked at the stimulation and pleasure he had gotten from your tongue on his skin.

"You like that?" You say almost teasingly as your tongue licks a stripe on his nipple that earns another needy moan to ripple through his throat and fill the room. "Feels so good," he says breathlessly "I know baby, I'll go real slow for you" you coo at him seeing how his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his chest.

Kissing and sucking on his skin until you reached his jeans pushing yourself up from his lap your hands trail down to the loops of his jeans which make his eyes open "can I take these off of you?" You ask softly looking down at a dazed and pleasure-driven Sunghoon with red, glossy, doe eyes looking up at you who stood over him.

"Yeah, do whatever you want" he shook his head agreeing to be the victim of your lust and was ready to let you do whatever it is that you pleased with his body. "Good" you say seeing his black boxers you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers tugging them down, over his thighs as he lifts his hips to help you tug them down to his ankles and letting him kick them away onto your floors.

The sight of his cock flushed, and his tip pink and glistening under the lights of your room. Your hands are on his thighs as you get on your knees on the far end of the mattress digging into the springs feeling them ache already and will most likely get fabric burn. Rubbing his thigh you began to kiss up his thigh as he huffs out small shaky breaths awaiting the sheer pleasure you were going to inflict upon him, he was utterly eager to feel your warm mouth on his cock.

Kissing a small beauty mark on his hip that has him squirming as your lips trail and skin across his lower abdomen which earns moans and whines as you take your time leaving small marks on his skin. Your hand trails where his cock rested against his lower stomach semi-hard as your index finger rubs against his tip seeing as a string of precum sticks to your finger still attached to him.

Puckering your lips you press small kisses and his base and up his shaft until you reach his blushed tip, licking a stripe of saliva against his slit had his thighs quiver "fuck" he groaned feeling your lips envelope his tip slowly taking him in your warm mouth,your hand still at his base jerking him off Sunghoon closes his eyes as his hand pushes your head down further.

Flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groan "shit". His head was thrown back and his breathing was labored.

you rubbed your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger. You could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes were closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him. Sunghoon let his hand guide your head to bob while you hollow your cheeks, Sunghoon was losing his mind at the feeling.

Breathing through your nose you could barely breathe as Sunghoon bucked his hips into your mouth, losing himself in the feeling of your warm mouth. Spitting on his tip you use your tongue to spread it, earning a moan as his pats become tugs when your lips wrap around his and you push your head down relaxing your throat you feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

Pushing your head down further you relax your throat taking him deeper until your nose hits his pelvis. Tears cloud your eyes as you almost gag, pulling your head back just a bit you take a deep breath through your nose and begin to bob your head.

You moan as you feel him buck his hips into your throat. "Feels good," he said as you continued to take him in your mouth slurping and bobbing your head, all without hands you were heaven-sent."don't stop" he cursed while moaning out, you speed up your pace as his balls were greeted with a squeeze from your hand. He was approaching his orgasm as his hips buck into your throat relentlessly you gag with each thrust. Tears spilled past your lashes and down your saliva-covered cheeks.

The groans made your pussy ache so you clenched your thighs closed. Sounds of groans buzzing in his chest you couldn't help but let out gags and moans at the tall man above you tears pricked your eyes again but you blink them away and continue taking him. He felt so good your warm and wet mouth was doing it but when you hollow your cheeks. Your hand that was at his base continued to move leaving him to buck his hips into your warm and wet cavern.

You gag as he repeatedly lets his tip meet the back of your throat yet you never pull away. "You take it so fucking- good" he slurs feeling himself twitch, your moans muffled sending vibrations to his dick making him shutter and his orgasm approach. "I'm gonna cum" He moaned as he thrusts one final time before he pushes your head down, cumming down your throat.

Sunghoon felt utterly drunk on the feeling of him coming down from his high, realizing you were still dressed in your pretty panties. "Please fuck me" he whispered, he was desperate to have himself buried inside of you. "You want it that bad?" You whispered looking down at him with a slight shock.

"Yeah, I just wanna feel you so bad" he mumbled as he could feel a blush creeping up on him and his body feeling like it was on fire just from the way you look at him. Pressing his lips to your chest and neck as you grind on his still-hard cock, the feeling of your wet panties and him panting against your skin. "You're so pretty" he mumbled as he sucks and bites at your skin making you bite your lip in hopes that he wouldn't see the smile on your face at the slight compliment.

Humming his mouth attaches to your nipple sucking gently, your mouth falls open as you moan "fuck" you whisper as your fingers entangle into his brunette hair pushing him into your chest, the feeling of his teeth brushing against you makes you unconsciously rut your hips against him dragging the fabric of your panties against his sensitive cock as you both moan.

"I'm done teasing," you say slowly coming back down from your list filled high. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth you lift your hips almost whining at the loss of warmth from Sunghoon's cum covered thighs pulling off your panties but didn't have much time to think about it as you wrap your hand around his still-hard cock.

Rubbing his tip against your clit hearing the slick sounds made you hum as you press him against your entrance slowly pushing him inside your warm and soaked walls you both moan in sensitivity as you sink into him the feeling of hin you had you clenching around him, feeling filled to the hilt "I just wanna cum" he whined under his breath as he guides your hips weakly to move.

"You're gonna cum soon I promise" you whisper as you pepper kisses on his face as you lift your hips to slowly begin bouncing against his lap, a moan dying in your throat as the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls leaves you in an early state of ecstasy. You pull out slowly, just enough to keep his head inside before pushing back in. A groan escaped his throat at how good it felt.

His nails digging into your hips as nothing but pleasure is all he could think about. You hear him breathily moan your name as his tip rubs against a spot inside you that had your eyes squeezing shut, you could feel his hips chasing yours lazily thrusting into you making the both of you groan.

You felt like you were stuffed, Sunghoon sat up until your chests touched. He slowly began guiding your hips to bounce repeatedly at a set pace. The way you sink into him was addictive. Your hands move back to grip his hair, and you tug and pull with each bounce.

"You feel so good" you whisper into his ear, Hoon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head from just hearing you talk dirty. He began to thrust into you, setting a faster pace. You moan at the feeling of his thick shaft rubbing against your silky walls and his tip practically kissing your cervix.

His nails began to dig into the skin of your ass as he continued to let you bounce in his lap, the sound of your moans and the creaking of the bed was all Sunghoon's ears could pick up on with his foggy and fucked out mind.

He was drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like this and it felt amazing. He whispered heavy 'please' for you to go harder as you rut yourself against his base.

A small ring of cum from your previous orgasm began to drip from his base as his thighs hit yours as you continued to fuck yourself harder on his cock. You feel hazy as you moan your nails dragging against the back of his shoulder.

You clenching down on him kept his mind set on doing one thing, and that was getting you both to your hopeful orgasm. Your hair bounced with every hard thrust he gave you hope that you both would cum soon. Your hand found its way to his hair grabbing at his brown tresses making his eyes water at the pleasure and pain

"Fuck, you look so damn good when you cry" you choked out along with a whimper as his tip practically abused your insides. The twist in your stomach made you realize that you were close. "I'm gonna cum" You had moaned, feeling your walls gripping around him tightly. Hoon began to thrust into you faster as he felt that same feeling bubbling up inside of him moaning and whining for release.

He couldn't help but let out a string of curses and moans "fuck" he groaned feeling how you squeezed down on him letting your orgasm wash over you.

The sweet moan you let out pushed him over the edge as he let his cum paint you white on the inside. He could feel you throbbing and his cum spilling past your walls. He couldn't help but thrust deeper into you fucking his cum deeper inside you.

Your hips are shaking with overstimulation. He couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. He just let you fuck him dumb. His whimpers fall on deaf ears as he lays his head against your chest in exhaustion giving small kisses to your skin.

Sunghoon felt like he just won the lottery, not only did he lose his virginity but he lasted longer than you did but only by a short lived 20 seconds, but he didn't care he was too high and honestly caught up in the moment to pay it any mind.

Slowly pulling your body away from his you were tempted to see his cum dripping from your thighs but exhaustion and the weight of your own body convincing enough to make you lay down next to Sunghoon and stare at your ceiling letting your actions and feelings sink in.

Then you realized that your record had still been playing making you close your eyes. "About our Monday lesson...my mom told me there was a summer festival for the country club she goes to and I wanted to bring you" he mumbled as he uses his little strength to turn over onto his side and drape his hand across your waist.

"No" you answer straight barely giving him a chance breath. "Why not? I thought maybe you'd want to meet my friends and y'know have fun" he mumbled as he clutches the sheets that covers your naked bodies. "Sunghoon it's nothing wrong with meeting your friends, it's just- isn't it weird bringing the poor girl to the rich people event?" You ask narrowing your eyes up at the ceiling seeing the poster of the movie star Sunghoon had brought up earlier.

"What? No. Why would that even bother you? Everyone's going to be having too much fun to care about how much money you have. Besides I'll pay for everything you get. And if someone gives you shit for living on the west side I promise I'll handle it ok?" He asks softly.

Does he really want you to go that badly? The answer is yes. The exposure Hoon has had this summer was starting to rub off on him, the trips to the west side and maybe even stopping at corner stores for snack with you, and now seeing how a family is supposed to treat each other and happily see each other, seeing how it wasn't as tight knit and well kept together as the suburban houses, mothers and their book clubs, teenagers who were even more close, and families that only stick together for image had it not been because everyone was so judgmental many families would be ripped apart by now.

"Ok, but as soon as some one asks me if I'm working staff I'm out" you joke poking at him arm, his laugh was like music to your ears. "Nobody is gonna think your working, you're too pretty to be a caterer" he says grabbing your your wrist guiding your hand into his hair. "You're too nice" you mumbled as you press more kisses to his lips.

You and Sunghoon kept the flirting, kissing, and banter going for a few more hours before the both of you realized everyone had gone home and your parents were asleep, helping Sunghoon sneak out the front door you kiss him goodnight and watch as he sneaks out of your front yard as the moon is to bear witness as he starts his car and drives off with biggest smirk on his face.

———————

You and Sunghoon had been putting great use of the landlines in your houses calling whenever you thought of each other, or had even the most minor questions to ask. A day apart felt almost empty without each other. Sunghoon decided to hang out with his friends and you would enjoy your day off with yours.

Having a day off and being home alone was like a blessing, both of your parents were at work and your grandma staying with a friend for the day, laying in your bed the sheets clean and your room neat yet just like the day before it was completely filled with smoke and the smell of weed.

"So the entire time you haven't been hanging out with us is because you've been fucking Park Sunghoon?" Mark's voice groveled as he watches Haechan blow out smoke. "Okay first of all, don't act like I didn't tell you that I wasn't giving him swimming lessons" you say pointedly "after he drowned at the pool" Haechan says not missing the main detail "right. And then you fucked him" Jaemin finally chimes in as he digs into a bag of very cheap and off brand Cheetos staining his fingers deep orange color along with crumbs all over his lips from the bean bag chair that sits on your floor.

"No! Why can't any of you prepubescent incels just be mature and let me tell the story" you groan falling back onto the pillow. "Fine, no need to be so hostile and rude" Haechan pouts as he rolls his eyes. "Since when did you know the definition of hostile? You can barely read the ingredients of a peanut butter jar" you snap.

Taking charge of diffusing the oncoming argument Mark just pats Haechan's arm in comfort knowing whatever comeback he had brewing in his head wouldn't even compete. "We've been hanging out, we kissed a few nights ago and hooked up, then yesterday we kind of went all the way. It's not that big of a deal" you say shrugging your shoulders ignoring the way your face heat up.

"So you don't have feelings for him?" Jaemin asks looking up from the large bag of chips he stole from your cabinet. "I haven't really thought that far into it. Sunghoon is a really nice guy, and I took his virginity but...doesn't it seem kind of-" you trailed off looking for the right words.

"Seem too good to be true? Rich guy from the suburbs wanting to date some girl who's broke giving up her paychecks to pay for college? And living on the worst side of town" Jaemin continues flatly as digging through his bag with low red eyes and a grin as he digs for a good chip. Making the room silent as they all look at the boy completely high off of his ass.

"What? Just because I don't always say the smartest shit doesn't mean I can't use common sense in the right moment" he meets the 3 pairs of eyes looking back at him equally as high. "Did you slip some shit that makes you smarter into that weed? Because I've never heard Jaemin be so logical" Mark mumbles to you making you snicker.

"Well he's not wrong, I just feel like there's so much more for him than me if I'm being honest. What guy from the east side would ever willingly come to the worst side of town just for a girl?" You ask looking at your three friends. "Park Sunghoon apparently. But listen honestly, if he hasn't given you a reason to give up so easily on his feelings then look into your feelings, if he's giving signs back to you that shows he's actually interested in you then take your chance" Mark says adjusting the beanie that covers his black hair.

"Since when did you dummies become so smart about dating advice?" You ask with a teasing grin you reach over messing with the tethered beanie on your friends head making him groan in faux annoyance. "You always give us dating advice why not return the favor?" Haechan says not daring to let his sarcastic and almost childish persona break.

"Yeah, remember that time you had to talk to a girl for Mark and one of YangYang's parties?" Jaemin recalls with a smirk "yeah that same party when you flirted with that guy wearing a really shitty costume wig" Mark snaps at the younger boy. "Maybe tequila and a few blunts isn't my best friend, but in my defense the dude was really pretty" Jaemin says with a shrug not even trying egg on an argument.

"Ten says thanks by the way, his ass did look pretty nice in those jeans" Haechan recalls making you snicker. "When did this go from talking about my love life to Ten being sexy with terrible Demi Moore extensions?" You say exasperated at the topic switch. "Well when is the next time you see him?" Jaemin asks as he finally lets the bag filled with practically crumbs sit on the floor. "Tomorrow...he wants me to meet his friends and go to some country club festival" you say awkwardly.

"Ew, make sure to hand out my number to the hot girl who cleans the pool, she gives me sexy eyes when I work at the snack bar" Jaemin says making you snort. "I know Christy, she has a lazy eye and I'm pretty sure her boyfriend works as a server" you snicker earning a dirty look from Jaemin.

"...anyways. Did you say yes?" Mark asks awkwardly as he picks at the dead skin around his nails that already forming scabs. "Yeah, I told him I'd go" you shrug although your expression didn't show much excitement. "Why do you look constipated?" Haechan asks with a scrunched nose.

"No I don't" you deny almost too fast you got whiplash "you do. It looks like you're gonna shit yourself. What's wrong?" Jaemin asks his eyes are finally filled with concern he's never seen you feet over something as small as a date with a guy.

"What if somebody talks about me because I live on the west side?" You ask hoping your tone didn't come off as scared or weak. "Who cares? You're going because you were invited. Nobody said you had to be rich and live in the suburbs with nice pretty houses and expensive cars to get in" Jaemin says feeling the heat of frustration warm up his body.

"You don't need to fit in with anybody, if he lets you get treated wrong then forget him. There are plenty of hot rich guys who would take you on dates" Mark says patting your shoulder. "Who knows maybe you'll get a sugar daddy" Haechan snickers making you shove him "I do not want to end up like those botched 50 year olds from the country club with a bunch of falling plastic in my face and a husband who looks like he's waiting to be put in a casket" you say almost gagging.

"Yeah whatever, those ladies are the same ones getting millions after their husband kicks the bucket" Haechan shrugs with a grin. "Seriously Hyuck I feel like absolutely nothing but dust swirls around behind your skull." You joke as the three boys surrounding you are nothing but giggles and cackles.

———————

When Monday settled you felt your stomach flutter and you had yet to decide if it was because you were genuinely excited or genuinely scared. Yet you worked your shift and could barely stare off into space without think of Sunghoon, it was like the mere sight of something made you think of him.

The 20 feet deep pool, the popsicles melting on the concrete, the pure heat, music playing from the boombox one one of the beach chairs, the smell of chlorine. Anything minor from the corner of your eyes had you thinking of Sunghoon that it almost made you cringe every time you caught yourself day dreaming.

When your shift ended you gladly locked up and went home, you took your time rummaging through your wardrobe for any semi decent clothes and only salvaging a dress you got for Easter family pictures. White, just a few inches above the knee and it fit you perfectly. You spent the rest of your time doing your hair and make up that your mom handed down to you that she no longer used.

And as time passed you couldn't help but give yourself the final touches every time you looked in the mirror or looking at the time. This wasn't your first date, to say you would have been to many would be a far stretch; saying you've attended a date and left happy, would have been a blatant lie.

Leaving your room you were quiet enough to sneak past the living room both of your parents swept away into their sleep after grueling work and long hours the TV still on and blaring. Closing and locking the door behind yourself you sit on your front porch step waiting for the familiar cherry red thunderbird. You could feel the summer nights were starting to become more cold as the months pass by.

Wrapping your arms around your shoulder hoping for the slightest inkling of body heat as some cars rhat usually stroll through the neighborhood drive through and park in their driveways or at the curb. The sight of your neighbor standing on her front porch smoking a cigarette makes you smile as the older woman looks over at you as well. "what are you doing here so late dressed like that?" She asks with a smirk, you were used to the nosiness of the woman and yet you seem to never get sick of answering any questions she has to ask.

"I'm going out with a friend, some festival going on at the country club" you say awkwardly nodding your head. The woman only makes a slight face you catch "country club? You got yourself an east side boy?" She laughs with a slight shake of her head. "It's not like that" you were quick to say although it was a lie completely, it was like that and she knew it. And it was on the top of your tongue to correct yourself but you just didn't understand why. The sound of breaks whistling at the curb of your house makes your eyes break from the sweet stare of your neighbor.

The car still running Sunghoon steps out of the drivers side walking through your grass to approach you, he looked too good to fathom his hair slick, and his clothes neat, jeans, a polo shirt that had little to no wrinkles and some white sneakers. It all fit him perfectly which earns a pretty smile out of you. "Hey, it's pretty cold you shouldn't have waited for me out here" he shakes his head with a small guilty look on his face.

"It's fine, I'm not that cold and I've only been out here maybe 5 minutes?" You says standing up trailing closer to him as he looks down at the floor he could see the goosebumps on your legs which makes him feel worse. Your hand trails to his jaw making him look up at you with soft eyes "I'm serious, I'm fine. Just turn the heat on in your car and I promise I'll be warm" you mumbled with a small grin at his concern.

"Okay" he whispered his eyes flutter over your face taking in all of your looks, you looked great, beautiful even more but he just couldn't gather the words for how breathtaking you truly looked. Instead leaning in to peck your lips "let's go, you look like your gonna start shivering any minute" he says grabbing your hand trailing you along behind him with firm steps you smile hardly remembering that your neighbor had watched your entire exchange.

Sunghoon hold the door open for you and even insists on buckling your seatbelt for you as you laugh at him. Sunghoon felt a shutter of relief when he had sat in the drivers seat and out of the corner of his eyes he could see a small grin on your face, you looked happy; and it made him feel happy.

"What are these festival things like?" You ask as you rub your hands together for some slight warmth as his car heats up. "First of all, call it a fest. You sound old calling it a festival, and it's basically like a carnival on the wide streets they have for golf carts. Uh- A lot of the kids our age ditch mid-way through to go drink at this lake" you says as he pulls away from the curb and goes his usual way towards the east side.

"The lake? What kind of preppy bullshit do they have you participating in?" You asked almost giggling at the thought of Sunghoon around a bunch of people listening to some bullshit sound track while drinking cheep booze. "And what do you and your friends do at parties?" He asks raising an eyebrow wearing a faux offended face.

"House parties, we drink, get high listen to good music and a bunch of shit that would most likely get us a night in jail" you smirk at the thought of having Sunghoon meet your friends. "That sounds...scary" he trails off with a small smile. "We have very different taste in parties I guess" you laugh.

The longer you remain in the car and look out of the windows the more you see how the areas change from garbage on the side of the street and abandoned house, to tidy houses with well kept lawns and nice cars driving down the road in the same direction.

You had realized you've never taken a close look at the East side, the houses were big of course, the white picket fences and rose bushes that were neatly planted and trimmed, the small bird baths and fountains along with huge driveways and sprinklers that coated the perfectly green glass. You were jealous, you wished that you could live in a neighborhood as beautiful and big as this one. But you were grateful for what you had and dared not to complain.

"What are you thinking about" Sunghoon asks as his eyes flicker from the road towards you, his hand settles on your thigh giving you a gentle squeeze. "Have you ever wished you weren't rich?" You ask pensively ripping your eyes away from the window and over to the brunette boy. "I wonder would life would be like. But wish I wasn't? I don't think I have no." He says as he tries to think of a time only coming up blank.

"Why?" He asks also becoming quite curious with the topic. "I don't know, I realized that I wish I wasn't low class but I've never heard someone who's rich say they've never wished to be rich" you shrug as your hand gently lays on top of Sunghoon's you rub comforting circles on his skin. "Doesn't everyone wish to be rich? I mean sure you live comfortably and get damn near whatever you want. But no one ever talks about how lonely it is" he trails off.

"Do you feel lonely?" You ask as you feel his hand grip yours tighter. "No, not anymore" he whispers. The car ride was so quiet and tense that Sunghoon almost drove past the entrance to get in. And when you made it to the parking lot of a packed Carnival you knew this date would be fun.

The both of you get out of the car and walk into the crowds of people, keeping close you could feel Sunghoon's large hand on your lower back as the both of you point and look around for things you want to do.

"How about we get on a rollercoaster first do we know what we're dealing with yeah?" He asks as he tears his eyes from the large ride that was spinning and carrying kids of all ages screaming their heads off. "Yeah, that sounds like fun" you smile up at him, pointing in the direction of the big ride.

"You wanna get on this ride? I mean if you're scared or anything we can get on something else" he says as you both walk closer "I'm sure" you nod with a smile on your lips watching as kids spill from the exit gate looking pale and sick.

"Really? Like you're 100% sure?" He asks his voice going up in pitch making you laugh "Hoon if you're scared to ride it then you don't have to get on it with me" you said laughing it up.

He scoffs as he straightens his posture "I'm not a kid y/n I can handle some stupid 5-minute ride that spins" he rolls his eyes dramatically making you smile "if you say so. But if you throw up on this ride I think we can get on the kiddy rides" you say with a big smile that has your eyes almost closing which has his heart fluttering.

"Whatever. But just know, I won't because I'm a man and I can handle a stupid ride" he says once again making you shake your head as the ride conductor opens the gate letting people on the ride and taking their tickets.

And as the two of you got on you see that only a few spots were left the both of you right beside each other as you press your backs to the cold rusting metal you push the bar below your waist close and grip onto the handles. "Is this safe? I mean there are no straps or anything" he says from beside you as he grips the metal bars that seemed to have chipped away red paint.

"We'll be moving too fast to even move hoon besides they have a bar holding down our waists, we're gonna be fine. And- if you want you can hold my hand until it's over" you say as you watch the worker close the gate to the ride taking the safety precautions before going into the control booth.

"I'm only taking your hand because you'll probably be scared. I don't need to hold your hand like a kid" he says scoffing as he repeatedly tries to put up a brave front while he was practically screaming his head off on the inside. His large hand grips yours over the bar turning his head to see you already looking at him with a fond smile.

"What?" He asks with a soft smile "you're scared" you coo making his jaw slack as he's ready to defend himself which makes you smile even wider as the dramatic and intense music of the ride plays and small lights flash. "It's about to start! Aren't you excited?!" You ask almost jumping with joy to see the nauseous look on his face.

"Sure" he nods as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back he was stressed out and the ride hadn't even moved yet. His grip on your hand becomes tighter once he feels the ride begin to slowly move and he can hear the old gears and screws sputter. "Oh god" he whispers to himself.

He feels his heart flip at the sound of your screaming and laughing, and when he opens his eyes he can't help but smile and laugh at your wide eyes while the wind flows your hair wildly the yellow bright lights from the carnival rides around you lighting up your face. He laughs as he sees your head toss back in sheer delight, he realized the ride wasn't so bad after all.

And when it was over he was dizzy and lovesick. And as the both of you walk out of the small exit gate you stop eyeing all of the stands and trucks with food and games.Sunghoon could see how your eyes light up at the water guns game and it makes him smile. "Let's go play that game" he says grabbing your hand and gently tugging you along.

As the both of you stood in line you could see a pack of middle aged women eyeing you and Sunghoon making you step closer towards him. Your eye catches how one of them mumbled and you could only read lips so well. "You okay? We're up next and I was calling your name" Sunghoon says as he tilts his head down to see where your eyes had been latched to.

Once he does he sees the small glare the woman gives him and he almost gave one back if it weren't for the man behind the counter asking for 2 tickets from you. Handing them over Sunghoon completely let's the thought of the judgmental women go. "Im going to kick your ass at this game" you smirk at your attempt to rile him up which makes him look over at you with narrow eyes "and why is that?" He asks with a sharp tone.

"I was a bad ass kid, my friends had little pellet guns and we'd shoot them at cans and bottles, anything we could find. I accidentally put a pellet through this poor old woman's window. I felt so bad I knocked on her door and cried apologizing" you say with a grin at the memory. "You were a horrible child!" Sunghoon bursts into a fit of laughter.

Sunghoon caught whim of it as you both sit on the stools in front of the booth. The woman behind the booth smiles as she states the rules, counting down the both of you hearing the ring that urges you to start. And just as you presumed your aim was really good, hitting the target you saw the balloon over the top of it filling up with water.

Sunghoon shouts as he struggles to aim the water where he needs making you laugh as his balloon is barely filled with water. "If you want I can help you," you say loudly over the noises of people around you. "I can still win, I don't need your help" he sassed you which makes you giggle at his stubbornness.

When your balloon popped and a loud ringing sound to determine you had won making sunghoon laugh at how you shot out of your chair shouting in celebration. "I told you I'd win," you say as you pat his shoulders "whatever, I just let you win because you were so excited" he drags out his words as he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Just admit you have shit aim, and I beat you fair and square," you say as you arch a brow at him he only shakes his head "we'll just have to see after this when I beat you at the next game," he says with a casual shrug only making you shake your head. You turn towards the woman at the stand smiling at your bickering.

"Choose whatever stuffed animal you want," she says as she points a wooden staff at the toys hung up along a small wire. "The big penguin" you smile as you point to it with shimmering eyes which makes Sunghoon's brows furrow as he remembers you looking at the teddy bear.

The woman handing it off to you as Sunghoon pays, you see him turn to look at you "I won you this" you hold it out for him to take wide eyes peering up at him for a reaction. "What? It's your prize, why don't you just keep it?" He asks shaking his head "because it reminded me of you so I wanted to give it to you" you smile. Most girls remember guys when they win them stuffed animals, but you- you won Sunghoon a stuffed animal and he'd cherish it with his whole heart.

"You didn't have to. I saw you looking at the teddy bear, so I thought you'd get it for yourself" he says as he gently takes the plushie from your hands holding it to his chest and squeezing it. "I felt bad, you've paid for everything we've done today. I just thought this was the least I could do" you say softly making him practically melt.

Everything about you made Sunghoon feel fuzzy. How your eyes crinkle when you laugh, how you had birthmarks and moles littering your pretty skin, how you looked breathtaking underneath the colorful lights all over the place, even after you got on a ride your hair tussled and you didn't even bother to fix it because regardless you still looked good.

"Hoon! Hey, everybody's going to the lake in about 10 or 20 minutes so hurry up and say hi to your parents we passed them on the way here" Jake says as he suddenly passes through the crowd and continues to shuffle pass only sparing you a mere glance. You didn't take it to heart and just decided that it was in your best interest to get Sunghoon close to his parents.

"Come on, I don't think you've met my dad or sister yet and there here tonight. So let's go say hi before we leave" he says patting your butt gently making your hand slap his away with a small yelp. The both of you bicker as Sunghoon tries to Navigate through the flocks of younger kids and parents while teenagers around your age were already packing up to head down to the lake a few blocks closer to the west side but still managed to have landed on the east side.

Eventually you and Sunghoon come to a halt in front of a bench in front of Sunghoon's mother and two unfamiliar faces. "We haven't seen you in a few hours where have you been?" Mrs. Park asks failing to look in your direction. "I was at Jay's with everyone else and then when I went home everybody was gone. So I got ready and I picked up Y/n" Sunghoon says lifting your interlinked hands.

"Y/n? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend Hoon" his dad says with a grin almost too proud of his son as his eyes meets yours you couldn't help but smile back. "She's not my girlfriend...um we're really good friends. She gives me swimming lessons" He says almost shyly. Your eyes flicker towards his mother seeing an almost relieved expression wash over her face.

"Really? That great. Thank you for helping my son" Mr.Park says as he grins at you. "Y/n lives on the west side and she works for the community pool honey" Mrs.Park days and you don't have a clue why but you felt a bit ashamed. "She sounds very hard working" Mr. Park says not even relishing much on what side of town you reside on which made you smile.

"Thank you, i can only work harder with the right motivation" you say nodding firmly. You could feel his moms eyes burn holes through you. "Sorry, i completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Seojun, Sunghoon's father and this is Sooyun his sister" he says wrapping an arm around his daughter who seemed to have no interest in the conversation.

"Its nice to finally meet you both Sunghoon has mentioned you both lots" you smile even though in Sunghoon's eyes he could tell they it was very empty. Sunghoon had never formed a bond with his dad and it was already too much to unpack as it is, but he knew you were too polite to direct any sense of anger toward his father for his own sake.

"Good things I hope" Mr.Park chuckles back as you open your mouth Sunghoon doesn't let whatever slither of attitude you were ready to slip as he interrupts "I just wanted to check in before we head over to the lake" Sunghoon says making you look at him almost flabbergasted at how honest he is with his parents. "The lake so soon? I thought you'd stay for a while longer to treat your sister to a few games" Mrs. Park says a sickeningly sweet voice with an undertone of bitterness.

"Sooyun will be fine she's old enough to walk around with her friends and play games" Sunghoon tries to reason, though if it weren't for the fact that you and him were on an unofficial date or the fact that his sister was an utter nightmare when their parents weren't around he would agree to be at least 30 minutes late to a kick back. But just not this time.

"I'll be fine alone. Plus all of my friends don't come to these things" Sooyun says with flat tone speaking for the first time since you've arrived. "It's not like they could afford to be here" Mrs.Park snaps under her breath making Sooyun roll her eyes at the implication that her friends were poor.

Biting back the snarky remarks running through your mind your eyes trail over Mrs.Park as you see a glimmering necklace around her neck that looked too expensive for you to even touch. "Your necklace is beautiful Mrs.Park how much did it cost?" You ask with a faux sweet tone that just feeds the older woman's ego. "It was a gift from my mother in law and it was about 3,000? Dollars" she says as her hands clutch the necklace as she eyes you up.

"Right....well we don't wanna keep Jake and everyone waiting on us so we'll get going" Sunghoon says as he rests his hand on your waist tugging you close. "Well we probably won't be home until pretty late since we're watching the fireworks so use the house key" Me.Park says as the both of you slowly step away. Sunghoon only nods his head as the both of you disappear through the crowd.

————————

Sunghoon wasn't really in the mood for the lake, the loud music, the drunk people and offers for drugs that made you think about shifting to an entirely different universe. The both of you sit in his car the parking lot was practically filled to the brim. And although Sunghoon would love for you to meet his friends maybe the lake wasn't the best place for that.

"How about we skip the party and go home?" Sunghoon asks as you readjusted yourself in your seat. "Home?" You ask looking at him with curious eyes. "My home, we could go late night swimming or we could just watch a movie in my room. Doesn't matter" he shrugs putting the keys into the ignition and hearing it roar to life.

The warm air blowing through the AC calms down the goosebumps on your skin. "I don't have a swimming suit though" you say the cluelessness in your tone makes Sunghoon smile at you "we don't need them" he says leaning over the middle console his large hand finding the juncture of your neck.

"It's up to you what we do, I don't mind anything" he mumbled as he rubs soothing circles into your skin with his thumb. "I'll let you know when I made up my mind" you whisper with a small nod. Sunghoon leans in for a soft kiss to your lips that you didn't hesitate to reciprocate. Feeling as the kiss gets more heated Sunghoon's hands trail into your hair making a mess of it that you didn't mind in the least.

Moaning into the kiss softly your hand wraps around his wrist as you pull away from the kiss slowly watch Sunghoon chase your lips. "We better leave now before I decide that we fuck in this parking lot" you huff with a smitten smile written all over your face. Sunghoon laughs pressing his forehead to yours "okay" he huffs nearly out of breath from the intense kiss he longed to share with you again.

Both of you sit in your seats tucked away in your seatbelts you clutched the plushie you had won in your hand as the radio plays. The drive back to Sunghoon's was significantly quiet yet soothing, without you even noticing how his hand settled on your thigh as he drives father into the east side where all the houses seem the same but you knew by heart exactly which house Sunghoon lived in, it was almost like a second home to you, walking in when no one was home but Sunghoon and immediately walking through his home to the back yard was second nature at this point.

As Sunghoon pulls into the driveway you feel a shift in the weather from slightly cold and windy to warm. Turning his car off the both of you get out. The rattling of Sunghoon's keys and your shoes making friction with his gravel driveway was all that could be heard. Unlocking the front door the houses is dark yet the only light peaking out was the large fish tank situated in the living room. The soft flow of water ringing loud enough for both of you to hear.

"I wanna swim" you say simply almost whispering as though you had to be quiet when you didn't. Nodding Sunghoon reaches for you hand in the dark, his fingers interlock with yours the dim light of the fish tank guiding the both of you through the living room and into the even darker kitchen where Sunghoon slides open the door you always struggle to.

The air nips at your skin sending a slight chill up your body but that doesn't keep you from removing your shoes and socks, Sunghoon was so enraptured with the way the reflection of the pool graces your pretty skin. Not daring to look away from you Sunghoon watches as you unzip the back of your dress letting it slip down your figure on to the concrete. The sound of rustling fabric was like utter back ground sounds as he continues to watch you.

This felt like something straight of Sunghoon's wet dreams as you unclip your bra letting fall down beside your dress. And what Sunghoon would do just to touch your body right now, trying extensively to not get hard from just watching you strip in front of him. Getting completely lost in his mind he misses the way you kick your panties onto of your discarded dress and slowly trail towards the stairs that descends straight into the warm water of the pool.

Your eyes finally meet Sunghoon's piercing gaze with the most innocent look on your face. "Are you not coming?" You ask as you let yourself soak into the water the deeper you step in. The water sloshing around your naked body brings Sunghoon back down to earth as he opens his mouth to say something yet not trusting his own voice he nods dreamily just barely blinking warning a soft smile from you.

Kicking off his shoes he eagerly strips off his shirt unbuckles the belt looped in his pants letting it clank to the ground without a second thought he strips of his pants. Coming to an internal conflict of if he could fully strip down to nothing like you or would that have made you uncomfortable.

From the corner of his eye Sunghoon sees you peaking over the edge of the pool leaning your arms against the concrete tucking your head against them. "What are you doing?" You ask looking up at him with lust hungry eyes. "I don't know if I should take these off or not- I don't want to make you uncomfortable" he says awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

"You wouldn't make me uncomfortable, we've already seen each other naked, remember?" You say as you let out a breathy giggle that almost makes Sunghoon visibly shutter. "Yeah- right" he says shyly as you shift away from the edge, drifting off into the middle of the pool kicking your feet as you watch Sunghoon strip out of his last piece of clothing before he flushed a deep shade of red as he fidgets his way towards the pool.

Stepping slowly into the warm water until he's waist deep Sunghoon watches as you were farther from him than he'd like you to be. But Sunghoon knew you weren't too far away a few inches from being in the deep end and yet your presence alone made him press his luck. Shifting closer with slow steps Sunghoon was now shoulder length deep into the pool the both of you an arms length away.

Not shying away in the slightest you decided to close the gap, your arms wrap around his neck as your naked chest presses against his. "Hi" you whisper with a small grin. Sunghoon can't help but to smirk at you "hi, did you have fun?" His pupils burning over your figure as he questions you. He pined for your answer to be positive, he'd hate for what felt like a first date to end up being terrible on your end when all night you had made him felt fuzzy, shy, and giggly all over.

"Yeah I did, you?" You ask, Sunghoon couldn't explain the feeling he had in his chest looking down at your bare wet figure pressed against his with those pretty doe eyes flickering to search his face for a hint of hesitation. But that's just when he knew, he felt it, it's exactly how it was described in books, like how your mom told him. It all just fell into place, he felt like the world came crashing in on him in seconds.

Nodding his head in a daze his lips parting as his eyes flutter down towards your lips, his long eyelashes tickling his skin every time he blinks hoping not to miss a single feature of your face. As many times as Sunghoon has seen you; at your job, at school, in your bed, during sex, nodding off into a sleepy daze, bored, pouting, upset, he could never get over just how beautiful you looked.

No relapse in judgement could take away just how much even the slightest flutter in your eyelashes could make his heart shutter a breath of relief and his stomach twist with what felt like butterflies going crazy in his stomach. It just couldn't be helped, because Sunghoon bared feelings deep in his chest that it almost hurt to know that you weren't official nor have you talked about labels. But he wanted you beyond just as a sexual partner. He wanted you as his girlfriend, his lover, his best friend, his rock. His.

"You okay? Your going blank on me hoon" you mumbled feeling his warm breath Sunghoon doesn't answer as he closes the gap between your faces, pressing his soft lips against yours, almost immediately reacting your fingers card through his hair tugging softly at the roots. Groaning against your lips Sunghoon slowly guides your back towards the tiled walls hearing the water trickle around you both at the sudden movements you make.

Lifting your leg against his hip makes you gasp. Finally catching your breath you meet his gaze "you sure we should be doing this out here?" You ask just above a whisper. "It only matters if you want to, I don't mind. I could do you in the kitchen, the living room, in the hallways, the bathroom. You pick" his voice rumbles making your quiver at the sudden surge of confidence in his voice.

You don't know where the sudden domineering Sunghoon came from but you liked it. "Here. I wanna do it here" you say breathily as you press your lips to his so eager to kiss him once more. The trickling sound of water and your lips messily smacking against each others filled your ears as you grow needy for friction regardless of being waist deep in water you could feel slick begin to build in between your folds.

The warmth becoming a sticky mess that began to make you rut your hips against him. The feeling of his cock making friction with your clit makes you moan softly into the kiss as your teeth and tongues thrash. The passion was overwhelming yet an understatement, the both of you so eager to feel each other you had no idea how much longer kissing and grinding into each other would get you off.

"Fuck, I wanna feel you so bad" Sunghoon groans as his tongue swipes against yours utterly in love with the way you taste sweet and minty. "Please" you whisper you couldn't even put into words what you wanted to do to him yet he found out exactly what he wanted to do with you.

His fingers slide between your thighs as the pads rub between your folds making you shiver at the pleasure. Biting your lip you couldn't decide wether to look up at him or where his hands had been. His middle finger rubbing against your entrance makes you let out a low groan as he slowly pushes inside of you.

Sunghoon moans at the feeling of you; warm and wet wrapped around his finger. Though you were wet he couldn't deny how easy it was to slip inside you. "So fucking messy" he grumbled "please make me cum" you whimpered completely disregarding how desperate you sound your hands settle on his shoulder as your nails dig into his soft skin.

Biting his bottom lip Sunghoon begins to thrust his digits into you with a pattern that has you grinding your hips into his hand. Adding another finger as the intensity of pleasure builds your moans become less breathy and more louder. The sound of the water rippling around Sunghoon's arm between your thighs and the motions building up pace makes you grip the hair on the base of his neck.

you breathily moaned his name and that made him piston his fingers in and out of you faster and curling them to hit your g-spot. the beginning of your orgasm beginning to build deep in your stomach. "your fingers feel so good, fuck," you moan. He smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. "fuck" you gasp. "keep doing that, oh god," you moan, gripping his arm as you try rolling your hips. He smirks at you, moving them slightly faster in a curling motion.

Barely keeping your eyes open at the point as they roll back the familiar feeling you get every time you have sex with Sunghoon begin building in the pit of your stomach "your gonna make me cum" you whine your jaw slacks as you feel fuzzy, your hips as uncomfortable at this point. "Do it, all over my fingers" he moans almost as breathless as you are driven by your moans as the water around you splashes rapidly the both of you too wrapped up in the pleasure to even care.

Your head dropping to his shoulder the coil in your stomach snapping as you release, a hoarse moan rips through your throat as you feel almost high on the pleasure his hands never stop their pace until your thighs shake and you hiss at the pain of overstimulation. Your hand grips his wrist begging for him to give you a break; complying Sunghoon slowly pulls out and let's you catch your breath watching you relax against him as your body slowly becomes relaxed.

Kissing his shoulder and neck Sunghoon smiles faintly pulling at the back of your neck for the both of you to become face to face your eyes clash with a look you had never seen before. All too unfamiliar needy but for sex it was a completely unexplored feeling and you aren't too sure if it's the way his hair sexily falls fast it's once slick back style or the way his pupils are blown out but either way you couldn't get enough of it.

His lips catch yours roughly, his tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of mint on his tongue. His hand pulling at your thigh for you to now be carried like a fucking feather.

Your legs wrapped around his waist you feel his dick poking at your thigh. With utterly no space between the both of you it felt like your own personal wet dream with your lips latched onto each other as your tangled in each others limbs with no intention to break apart any time soon. Hiking you up high against his waist you moan at the feeling of him pressing his tip against your folds groaning at the warm and wet feeling.

Your back pressing against the harsh tile on your skin leaving a slippery texture on your back you would almost be sick at the feeling but pay no mind as your too caught up in wanting to return the favor to even care. Kissing the corner of his lips you trail to his neck sucking harshly on soft skin pushing in past your entrance the pressure of him filling you up begins as you both let out soft moans not caring how late or even where you're located for another fact.

His hands move to either side of your thighs as he looks down on you with complete adoration in his eyes. Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Sunghoon couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight. The droplets of water that splash your skin and race back down onto his looks almost addictive under the moonlight.

Sunghoon; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that! I just want you to come inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. Letting one of your thighs drop back to the floor carrying half your weight Sunghoon piston's his hips harder into you at your dirty words.

"Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Sunghoon's death grip on the fat of your thigh almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and sitting still, your nails drag against his back leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning into him , your moans against each other's lips push you closer and closer. Your back is arching as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. The splashing of the water and the sound of your wet skin smacking mf was making Sunghoon dizzy, he had no idea he could have this type of effect.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and water as his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he said breathily "I want you to look at me when you cum" He says opening his eyes looking up at you.

You nod as you let your moans fall past your lips, the sensation building more and more until it became to overwhelming you gasp "I'm gonna cum" you whine as your hips pound more hastily into him, his moans mixed with yours as he drowned in the feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him completely over the edge.

"Fuck" he groaned as warm spurts of cum filled you, grinding down and letting the cum spill past your walls and down the base of his cock you hum as your content with your orgasm. Humming at the warm feeling you now realize you've basically contaminated the entire pool with sweat and cum and slick making you visibly shutter.

"You okay?" Sunghoon asks groggily making you shake your head "we got the pool dirty" you mumble against his skin feeling bad now for having sex in his families pool. "It's okay, I'll clean it in the morning and nobody will know alright?" He says hoping to clear your guilty conscience. "Okay. Can we...get out now this actually starts to feel gross now" you groan as the smell of sex and chlorine comes in waves. Only nodding his head you and Sunghoon untangle from each other deciding to get out of the pool and collect your clothing.

Making it back in the house and into the bathroom to share a bath almost so intimate washing each others bodies with lingering touches and small kisses. The intimate atmosphere drags on until the both of you lay in bed the darkness engulfing Sunghoon's bedroom as you both slipped under the sheets giggling at the conversation you two couldn't directly keep a solid topic for. Mumbling into each others skin you both fall asleep not even waiting for anyone to come home.

Later in the night Sunghoon's shuffling wakes you up out of your sleep as his elbow digs into your rib cage awkwardly making you cringe. Pulling away you look at the big red numbers on the digital clock burning your eyes as you see it was now well past midnight making you panic.

Shaking Sunghoon's arm "hoon... get up I have work in the morning" you mumbled in a panicked voice. He was like dead weight his hands tightening against the fabric of his shirt on your body. "Hoon get up I have to go home" you wriggle becoming more frustrated with the sleeping boy. Managing to escape from his heavy grasp slipping back into the bathroom just down the hall of his bed room deciding to be quiet in case someone decided to wake up.

Making it back into his room you see the lamp in his bedroom on as he waits for you on the edge of his bed fighting sleep. "What are you doing?" He asks grumbling almost pouty that you were gone for so long "I went to the bathroom, but hoon I have to go home I have work early" you whisper making Sunghoon shake his head. "Why can't I just drop you off in the morning? It's so late" he says grumpily.

"You're forgetting the part where my parents think I'm home right now" you say as of it's the most obvious fact in the world. Sunghoon only groans as he drags himself out of the sheets to find his sweat pants that had been tossed to the floor and his t-Shirt that had been hanging over his one shoulder.

You could only smile softly at how messy Sunghoon slept yet he some how still manages to wake up looking as perfect as he does. He ensures that you make it home and go through the backyard door that's always unlocked before going home and falling back into a comforting silence until sunlight seeps through the curtains.

——————

The hard knocking on Sunghoon's bedroom door wakes him slightly until the hoarse voice of his mother has his brows pinching together. "Sunghoon! Have you seen my necklace? I've been looking for it all morning" Mrs.Parks Voice is worried and it feels like Sunghoon's head had been splashed in cold water. "No. Have you checked between the slot of your dresser and the metal the holds your jewelry?" He asks his voice still deep and scratchy.

"Of course it would've been the first place I looked, I even checked behind the dressed. I remember putting it back last night Sunghoon I'm not crazy" Mrs.Park sounds stressed and it makes Sunghoon altogether get out of bed to finally face the look on his mothers face.

He rubs at the corner of his eyes. "Mom, I'm gonna help you look in the places you have and haven't" before closing the door and changing into more suitable clothes.

The longer it take Sunghoon to find the necklace the more fussy he becomes trying to find any alternatives as to why and how his mom could misplace such a pretty necklace that was so expensive and dead to her. "Hoon, did you have anyone over last night?" Mrs Park asks as she eyes the boy who leans face down against the carpeted walk in closet trying to see if it called under Meath her dresser of jewelry.

"Y/n for a couple of hours why?" He asks who h makes Mrs.Park scoff. Of course it was you, it's always you. Mrs.Park knows about girls like you from the west side. Asking for money, smoking and drinking, sinking your claws into poor boys like Sunghoon to ruin themselves beyond repair.

"Before she left did you leave her alone?"

Sunghoon's throat ran dry, he felt like he could throw up any second. "What time did you come home?" Sunghoon asks coldly remembering waking up around 2AM just to get you home safely "midnight" she says as she watched Sunghoon sit up on his knees with a blank expression. "We fell asleep and I woke up and she was gone for a few minutes. After she came back I took her home" Sunghoon says his memory still foggy from the events after sex.

Mrs.Park bitterly laughs "fucking thief" her tongue pokes her cheek as she presumes right once again that you were no good along. "Call her and get my necklace back. I don't need her selling it to some shop on the west side for some quick change" She snarks and Sunghoon felt his blood boil.

His skin was prickling with anger his neck and and ears were red he couldn't help the immediate reaction he felt so sick. His heart wrenched. He couldn't explain it but it felt like he was going to cry. Sunghoon wobbledonot his feet and looks at his mom hoping the tight feeling in his throat and the stinging in his eyes wouldn't fester any further around his mom he only complies with the request with a nod before walking to his bedroom.

————————

And so he waited, he waited until your shift was over. He cleaned his room, the pool, the bathroom. He tried to rid himself of the thought of you as the only question running through his mind was 'how could you?' How could you steal from his mom? How could you pretend like you didn't in front of his face? How could you use him like that?

It was wearing him down like a ton of bricks but he anticipated your arrival when his house was empty and you had just got off your shift. Hitching a ride from Mark who had spent the day at the pool with you as it was a slow day for you at the pool. When you get out of the car you have a smile on your face watching as the blue worn out BMW pulls off with the base vibrating the entire exterior.

Surprised to see Sunghoon on the front porch waiting for you the look on his face makes yours shift nervously. Regardless you step onto the front porch leaning in you attempt to press a kiss to his lips only landing on his cheek as he moves away his expression still stone cold. "Hey...what's the matter?" You whisper your mood dampening at the bitter look on his face.

"You stole from me" he says plainly almost giving you whiplash. "Excuse me?" You ask backing away from standing on the gravel pathway that leads to his house from the front gate and sidewalk. "My moms necklace. Last night you complimented it, and came back here with me. You slept with me and did all of these things with me knowing that at the end of the night you were just going to fucking steal from me" he says harshly.

You feel your face heat up with confusion written all over your expression "What the fuck are you talking about? What necklace? Sunghoon I didn't steal shit from you I already told you I don't steal" you feel your voice becoming harsher at the accusations he tossed at you. "So you disappear while I'm sleep and then all of sudden you come back demanding to go home. I'm not fucking stupid it all just points to you Y/n" he says finally standing to his feet.

"Are you fucking joking?! Please tell me you are Sunghoon and that necklace is in your moms bedroom because if it's not and your being serious right now then we're done" you say feeling emotions begin to surface as you point shakily at his front door. Sunghoon felt like he was back at the community pool where you first met like he wanted to cry, annoyed, scared his eyes began to sting once more.

"I'm not. You even complimented her on it. The least you could now that your caught is give it back unless your living up to your west side reputation. Surrounded by thief's so you live like one? I knew you didn't have a lot of money but- fuck if you were that desperate you could've said something" he snaps and just like that he was back in the deep end.

Clawing his way back to the surface to feel the warm sun on skin again to breath the fresh air. Right now he was almost at rock bottom and the look on your face read with disbelief and anger. "I didn't steal your moms necklace. I don't need it nor do I want it. Every dollar I've ever made I worked for and you couldn't say the same but since we're bringing up lying let's not forget when you said all rich people aren't douche bags but I see you just say anything to feel like less of a spoiled fucking brat" you spat the feeling of a sob ready to wrack through your chest.

You refused to let him see you cry, not when he had thrown how much money you earn in your face. "You don't get to act like the victim! You stole from my house!" Sunghoon says his voice cracks with pure anger and it sends you over the edge. "You know what?we're done. But once you find that necklace I hope it rusts and turns your moms skin green because I never fucking wanted it in the first place. Trust me Sunghoon you won't have to worry about anything else going missing in your big fancy fucking house ever again because I will never step near it again" your voice is hoarse as you step backwards and turn on your heel now regretting letting Mark leave without you.

"There was no we" he spats realizing he was not wining the argument "sleeping with you was a fucking mistake but I guess west side girls will do anything for money. My mom never lied"he scoffs. He doesn't mean it, not a single word yet he does it to get under you skin when knows later that's it's truly over he sounds so pretentious and privileged.

Then remember the heavy bag on your shoulder filled with his clothes you cleaned. Stopping in your tracks you feel Sunghoon's eyes burn through your figure. Pulling it off your shoulder you snatch open the zipper tugging out the pile of fabric in the bag and toss them at the tall boy. "Don't worry about the clothes you gave me because at least I'm returning the things I did take" You mutter hearing the fabric fall to the concrete.

You waste no time turning back around not sparing a second glance at him before storming out of his yard no longer trying to fight the silent tears or anger that slip down your face as you walk the way that you knew would usually get you out of the east side and the nearest route back home.

Everything around you felt like a stuffy blur as tears streak your face, rubbing your eyes raw with the back of your hands each time you felt tears streak at the corner of your eyes until it became sore. The woke home was filled with soft cries, you felt like you had just broken up with Sunghoon when the two of you weren't even dating. Your chest hurt and you just felt the need to shatter something into the same amount of prices your heart had shattered.

The second you came home to an empty house you stomp up the steps to your bedroom slamming the door shut behind you letting it echo. You could feel the heat of your body go beyond any level you've felt before as your tears become harder to control. Your eyes landing on the large book case of music CD's and albums without a second thought you let a scream ripple through your throat as you rip each and every last one of the cases from the shelf dropping the floor you can hear some of them cracking and shattering at the unbraced impact with the hard floor.

You were angry and annoyed but most of all you were heart broken. You wanted to punch Sunghoon in his face for not believing you, you wanted to tell at him for making you feel this way and yet all you can do is curl into a ball on your floor not even making it to your bed. Surrounded by broken plastic you can't even feeling the pain in your fingers at the cuts you've gotten from breaking apart plastic so hardly and tossing them at your walls.

You breathe heavily as tears drip down the side of your face into a depressing puddle. Huffing away until your sleep the floor ultimately was not too uncomfortable to sleep in your own mess as the warm sticky blood on your fingers dry into scabs and your tears dry away. You couldn't bare to stay awake the entire day and relive your anger and heart break.

——————

"Let me get this straight... you accused her of stealing your moms necklace and the next day your sister came home with it" Jay says with a deep look of concentration on his face Sunghoon was distraught he had made what seems like the worlds dumbest fucking mistake in his eyes "yes" he says tiredly rubbing his eyes of the tears he had been letting slip past his eyelashes all day.

He knew if anybody would have good advice it would be Jay, he was his rock and anytime Sunghoon needed help without a doubt he'd turn to Jay for the right direction he should go in. "What made you doubt her?" He asks and the question almost stuns Sunghoon.

"I don't know... for a while I just had a feeling it was too good to be true and I didn't want to think she did but then I couldn't help but think she did. My mom just- she had a solid argument" he says but Jay wasn't content with his answer.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you right now. I think you were just searching for a reason to end it, you like her and you've never gone beyond hook ups and the first time you did you were happy but you don't know if the feelings are returned so you're scared" Jay says his voice is stern and it doesn't come as a complete shock. "I never said I had feelings for her Jay" Sunghoon says under his breath making Jay scoff.

"You don't have to say it, it's fucking obvious and in everyone's face. The last few times we've hung out you couldn't shut up about her; you were like a puppy who lost it's owner and would do anything to get back to them once again it's fucking sick." Jay says not toning down the attitude. "And from the sounds of it your mom just doesn't like her. She's a control freak she doesn't want anyone or anything like a girl who doesn't live up to her standards to be who your slumming it with her son and ruining the image she took so long to build of your family" he points out.

"She saw an opportunity to tear her from your grip and she did. You were just dumb enough to let your mom of all people cloud your judgement on someone you've been spending 2 months with" Jay pats Sunghoon's leg as they both sit on the edge of the pool at country club Sunghoon couldn't bare to go to the community pool when he knew you'd be there.

"I just don't want to let her down. All these years I've been following whatever my mom and dad want. My moms never been wrong with her choices so I just thought how could she be wrong about this one?" He questions himself. Sunghoon thinks back to when the both of you talked at the pool and you had called him a mama's boy, and now he heard it in his own thoughts and feelings.

"Sooner or later Sunghoon you're going to have to stop depending on your parents to make choices for you. Right now, is one of those times. Your mom doesn't get to pick and choose who you do and don't date especially when I'd damn near say you're in love with y/n" Jay says and it makes Sunghoon's stomach flutter. Groaning he lets his hands rake through his hair as he thinks deeply.

"Talk to her, apologize and make sure she knows how sorry you are" Jay says patting Hoon's shoulder giving him minimum comfort. Sunghoon knew this was tough love and that Jay couldn't do anything for Sunghoon even if he really wished he could. The silence was overbearing. "I meant right now Sunghoon. Get up and go apologize the fucking sun is gonna go down soon and who knows if she'll be at work by the time you realize it" Jay snaps making Sunghoon let out a mantra of complaints.

—————

The pool was empty yet the cleaning supplies had still been set out. Sunghoon could see a trail of wet foot prints lead into the staff building making his eyes narrow. The sound of rumbling and hushed talking makes Sunghoon walk slowly yet quietly towards the blue painted building.

The door was shut and from what Sunghoon could make out past the old rusted door what sounded to be grunts and muffled moans, the sticky sound of skin slapping makes Sunghoon sick to his stomach. You cleaned up after hours every week, was this what you were doing the entire time lessons took place at his house?

Taking guys just like him and fucking them in the staff building. Just the thought makes his skin crawl, Sunghoon didn't even know if he could even be angry with you after he broke off whatever the two of you were. But he thought you felt the same, the longing touches, the kisses, the flirting, meeting each others parents. You took his virginity and left with his heart, now your were back to fucking other people after 2 days?

Sunghoon feels it again he's drowning in his feelings once more, his tears fester and build until they blur his line of sight he couldn't even put into words how devastated he was. It hurt when the two of you were arguing face to face, but moving past the anger and finally knowing the truth Sunghoon was ready to throw his pride away completely and beg for forgiveness.

But it seemed like you had already moved on with life and would be just fine. Sunghoon's feet drag across the concrete not paying attention to anything, everything seemed so blurred and his body felt heavy. Sunghoon barely manages to drag himself back to the parking lot and open his door before tossing himself into the seat letting his tears finally release down onto his warm cheeks.

He felt more angry than anything, his hand slams against the middle console, then another hit to the steering wheel before his hits have less aim and more power. "Fuck!" He shouts the empty parking lot with no one to witness his meltdown. Sunghoon let's his head fall into his lap as curls up letting his tears deep through the Jean material of his pants.

Silently letting himself cry before pulling himself together. Wiping his face he looks in the rear view hoping his eyes weren't to red or puffy nor his nose. He knew it wouldn't just take Jay for him figure out what to do he had to go Sunoo the boy with a soft smile and a kind heart was all he needed in his moment of disparity.

When he's met face to face with the boys soft features and worried eyes he can't help but choke out a sob past the fake smile he tried to front for the younger boy. Barreling him into a tight hug Sunoo doesn't ask him anything he just guides him to his room and waits for him to talk. When Sunghoon finally calms himself into a tired and stuffy mood he opens up to Sunoo from the very beginning up until he had left the pool.

And when Sunghoon decides it best to go Sunoo dials Jay's number and decides to let him take the next step in action because Sunoo is the last to be confrontational especially about his friends. But when he spills his guts to Jay the displeased tone coming from the other line makes Sunoo realize that this entire conversation would end with a pissed of Jay, a heart broken Sunghoon, and a clueless y/n.

—————

The next morning when 12PM hits Jay steps out his car with a deadpanned expression and a mission. He was beyond seething with you, moving on from Sunghoon so easily after making him fall hard. Jay wasn't going for it in the least, something had to give. And when he approaches the lifeguard tower to see you sitting atop looking like death but you in the ass he doesn't know how to react.

When he sees your finally looking at him you roll your eyes hoping that since he approached he'd speak first but you guessed wrong. "Can I help you?" You ask, your voice sounded utterly scratchy. "Did he call you? Show up to your house or anything?" Jay asks flatly. "What are you talking about?" You ask confused "Sunghoon, because he showed up here after your shift and he didn't say anything to me after" Jay explains making you shake your head.

"I wasn't here yesterday I had someone else fill my shift while i was out sick. He didn't come to my house and he didn't call me. But I don't really think he needs a reason anymore since he thinks I'm west side trash who steals shit" he spat the familiar scenario leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "So he never apologized like I told him to?" Jay asks becoming almost fed up with Sunghoon himself.

"Apologize for? Calling me a thief? Or bringing up how much money I have?" You ask still biting back a few tantalizing and anger driven questions yourself. You didn't entirely blame Sunghoon for being angry about the necklace missing, but you'd never even come close to knowing why exactly he had thought you had stolen it. "All of it. Listen yesterday Sunghoon told me why he thought it was you and I don't know if it's my business to tell. But I just really think you should call him and let him know your willing to hear his side of the story and his apology" Jay explains calmly which makes your eyebrow twitch.

"When did I say I was willing to listen? I know you want what's best for your friend and you may only know me through him but I already told Sunghoon it was done, he drew that line himself and I'm not stepping over it for the sake of his guilty conscience" you say flatly making Jay sigh. "He's really fucking stupid and he realized he was wrong, but if you'd just listen to him I promise you're not going to regret it" he says his voice is eager.

You poke your tongue in your cheek, the past few days you've convinced yourself to wipe your memory of Sunghoon changing your bed sheets, putting all your tapes, CD's and records in a large box taped under Meath your bed inside a box along with any other thing you've conveniently kept as a memory latching on to the name park Sunghoon like a leach to your brain cells.

But now that you could see how desperate Jay was to get the two of you to talk; Park Jeongsong the calm and mature friend who had a plan, solution, and action for everything was eager for you talk to his friend. "It better be good, because if he gives me some half-ass apology you owe me" you sigh.

"Okay- that's fair. When can you see him?" Jay says all too happy for his best friends sake. "Tell him to meet me here after my shift, he knows where I'll be at" you say your tone showing no sign of emotions, you'd feel anxiety creep on you by the time you're face to face with the brunette.

————-

You were more than nervous, your hands were shaky and your breathing is slightly heavier. All emotions that had hit you the way that they did came suddenly with no warning. Your entire shift you had dreaded each time you checked a clock and counted down the minutes, hours and seconds in your head. As time blurred past you were finally alone, sitting near the edge of the pool your feet dipped into the slightly cold water.

The smell of chlorine and the orange hues kissing your skin. It all felt like the first day of lessons with Sunghoon and it made you sad. The sudden rattling of the worn out gate screeching open against the concrete you didn't have to look to know. Your eyes trained on water as it pumps out of the filter the soft sound of it trickling brought faux comfort.

The soft pattern of she's making friction with wet concrete comes closer and closer making your heart speed up. The smell of cherry popsicles and weed becomes more apparent as Sunghoon sits besides you crossing his legs and tucking them away from the water.

Silence has never been more overbearing and loud enough to fill the air with tension. Your mouth opens to speak but your voice dies in your throat not knowing how to even remotely start the conversation. You felt like a new born watching their parents make you speak your first words, anything; a sound, a word or letter...something. But apparently Sunghoon beat you to it.

"I'm sorry for not believing you, and talking about the way you live. My parents made choices for me and they rubbed off me in ways I didn't even realize. The day after we got into that fight- my sister came home with necklace in her hand. She had taken it while my mom was drunk so she could show off to her friends. And I felt like shit the minute I saw her with it" he says shakily Sunghoon couldn't trust his voice but if he wanted to right his wrongs he'd have to put a small pitch of bass in it.

"Did you think I stole or did somebody else tell you that?" You ask feeling your face heat up with an emotion you couldn't name. "My mom, I don't know why I never saw it but I could just tell the moment your name came out of my mouth she finally had a real reason to hate you. Did you know my mom disliked you?" Sunghoon asks with narrow eyes finally letting them look at you for the first time in what feels like forever.

"I knew she didn't like me. All the sneaky shit and comments she makes when you're not around, I just brushed it off" you say shrugging not being able to meet the boys eyes that are now softened. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks under his breath "Because I know you Sunghoon. Well enough to say that you're a mama's boy, you would do anything to please her, even if that means breaking somebody's heart because she is the one who's always behind you watching you make those mistakes and waiting to point them out, ready for her family to look like perfection and you want to be that" you say finally categorizing your current state.

"I broke you heart? I thought you were over me, when I came to the pool yesterday I heard you closing up shift in the staff building having sex" Sunghoon says his hands tightening into fists hating the feeling that was in his chest just thinking about you with someone else. "I wasn't here yesterday, I felt like shit so I just stayed home the entire day" you whispered looking down at your nails picking at the nail polish as a way to keep yourself from looking at him with that frown on your face.

"I panicked" Sunghoon whispers feeling his eyes sting with tears. "I'm so used to be setting up on dates, and my parents trying to get me a nice rich girl. I've never felt this ever. Not with any girl I've just went down on, or hung out with at the pool, not even those girls at the country clubs who stare. It all just felt so real like how your mom described it. And every time you came around the feeling just got so much bigger than me- I just didn't know what to do. So when you told it was done I felt lonely" he said letting his tears flow freely.

You remembered the conversation you had with Sunghoon in his car and it made your heart ache. "I never really realized how much I depended on you to fill my schedule that in just these 2 days alone I've done nothing but cry and pout to my friends about you" he sniffled making your throat feel like it was growing a lump and your cheeks heated up.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, and I should've believed you when you told me. It just felt too..." he trailed off making you huff a laugh as your own tears streak down your cheeks and stain your shorts. "Too good to be true. That's what I told my friends the day before the fest, some rich guy catching feelings for west side trash. It was funny in the moment but after a while I started to believe it you know? But the way I felt about you just wouldn't let me give you up" you shake your head, rubbing the creases building up between your eyebrows.

"You're not- You're not trash. Your the girl who saved my life, who gave me swimming lessons and risked her job for me, your the girl who took my virginity, your the girl that I want to be with and I'm done letting other people pick who I'm with because I know I want to be with you" he says his breath getting caught in his throat his statement coming out like word vomit.

"I don't forgive you" you shake your head. "Not yet, if you really mean all that then you'll stick it out and prove that your sorry. Sunghoon you brought my living situation into this and that's when you decided to fuck up. Who am I to say the next argument we get in you won't bring it up again or say worse?" You finally look up at him with genuine distress. "I want to invest in my feelings for you but I just need you to prove that you're serious" you can see the eagerness in his eyes.

Nodding his head Sunghoon wipes the palm of his hand on his shorts before softly brushing away the small tears on his cheek "I swear I'll prove it" he mumbled making you smile softly feeling content with his response. Letting his hand drop back into his lap Sunghoon moves closer to your side to the point your thighs are touching, the both of you watching how the orange hues of the sun are slowly disappearing behind the peak of trees, laying your head against his shoulder and feeling the weight of his head on top of yours "I love you" Sunghoon puffs out.

He knew he loved you, the girl who taught him so much during just one summer. Took his virginity, taught him to swim, showed him heart break, Sunghoon loved you and he'd wait until you were ready and he proved he would be with you he was all in. He just knew this time falling into the deep end he had someone to save him again and again.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#enhypen smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 months

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Supply Closet [Avenger!Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just some filth in a supply closet tbh. (w/c 1.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x female reader. Smut. Loki in a V-Neck, semi-exhibitionism, PV/Oral. Established relationship.

You looked over Steve’s shoulder as the door edged open and Loki’s face slid into view.

Steve turned, sighing as he saw the god’s chest sidle through the crack, his fingers curling around the inside handle.

"My sincerest apologies," Loki hummed unapologetically, "-but I need to borrow our darling Agent here. It’s urgent." Steve raised an eyebrow. "How urgent?" he said. "Quite urgent, I assure you.” said Loki gravely.

Another sigh rattled Steve’s chest. He fluffed the papers on the desk before scooting them towards you and leaning back in the chair.

“You heard the man-’ he barked, casting a perishing look over his shoulder. He pulled out his phone as you stood with mumbled apologies, saying you’d be back as soon as you could.

“Doubt it.” Steve said while his keypad beeped.

A smirk began to creep across the feigned innocence of Loki’s expression as you pressed your fingertips against his chest, edging him out the door. “What are you doing?” you hissed as Loki’s smirk grew wider. The door clicked shut behind you. He threw his hands up in remission, mischievous smile in full force. Your fingers grasped around the collar of his v-neck, pulling him into a kiss that knocked the air from his lungs. Loki’s tongue jammed into your mouth, wet kisses waxing and waning against the clash of teeth as you landed him against the wall with a thud. “I missed you,” he gasped as his fingers worked up the base of your neck. “It’s been thirty minutes-” you said, giving the back of his hair a sharp yank. ‘You said twenty-five.’

Loki hissed. His cock was hard and proud against his chinos, stretching in a thick column up to his hipbone and rubbing against your thigh. The v-neck clung like a second skin to the outline of his abdomen; flexing against the muscle with every shallow breath.

“This is a very compromising situation you’ve put me in, Agent-” he growled wet in your ear. You shot a glance to either side of the hallway. “Come on.” you said, sliding a hand down the thick meat of his forearm and linking his hand in yours.

Beside the meeting room there was a humble supply closet. You and Loki bundled inside, closing the door as softly as you could. A nervous giggle erupted from your mouth, immediately silence by Loki’s hungry kiss. He backed you against the shelves at the far end of the closet, catching a mop before it fell without even looking in its direction.

The cleaning supplies gave a brief rattle of discontent. Your pulled at his t-shirt, the quietly expensive material that clung so perfectly to every godly inch of him sliding through your fingers. You whined into his open mouth.

The god replaced his lips with a silencing finger. He kicked your feet apart with practiced skill; the finger pulling at your bottom lip as he sank to his knees.

Loki looked up from smouldering eyes beneath a dark line of lashes, brows peaking while his hands slid up trembling thighs.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully…" he said solemnly. His eyes flashed in the way they only did when he was interrogating a suspect. An enemy. You’d told him how you almost came when you’d worked a mission together recently and seen it in action. And now, it was time to play.

Loki’s voice was commanding even through a whisper. "You’re going to cum in my mouth, darling..." he said. "I want to be absolutely dripping. Drowning. Tasting you for days. I want you to ride my tongue like its your route to freedom. Do you understand?" You nodded mutely, hand clasped over your mouth as his thighs spread wider on the tiled floor.

"And then – I’m going to fuck you." Loki murmured menacingly, dragging a manicured fingernail against the plump of your thigh- "And you’re going to take all of me, everything I have to give. And you’re going to be quiet. Do you understand?" You nodded again, a small squeak of anticipation erupting. "I’m sorry…" you whispered, unable to contain a smile of utter glee. Loki frowned disapprovingly, but the side of his mouth twitched.

He hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder. Without another word, the god reached up and guided your hands to the back of his head, pressing them into his scalp. On instinct, they tangled in his curls as his tongue met your swollen clit. You let out a shuddering sigh.

The flat of his tongue reached to the back of your slit, already sticky and desperate for him. His nose rested on your mound, disappearing and dragging back on your clit with every breathy gyration of his jaw. Loki’s hand slid to your knee, steadying it from the shakes that had begun. The other pressed up against the back of your thigh near his face, opening more of you to the leisurely lap of his tongue. One of your hands left his hair, grasping at the shelf to the side. Your head fell back, unable to take the sight of the god of mischief spread on his knees; eating your pussy with his eyes closed and his brow creased in pleasure. You thrust against his tongue, each thick stripe and suck of his expert movements making you see stars.

"Loki…" you mouthed as quietly as you could manage as your head fell forward.

He suckled at your clit in worship, filthy moans bubbling in his throat. He opened his eyes, meeting your own as he flattened his tongue and withdrew it...making sure you were watching as he slid it back between your legs. Your grip on his hair tightened.

Loki’s cock was even bigger now- fat and straining against the chinos stretched across his thighs. It twitched for freedom while your hips began to shake; your fingernails scraping against the shelf. With a silent scream, you came shamelessly on his lapping tongue. Loki didn’t stop; easing the flat gently against your pussy as he held you steady to his face.

"Loki," you panted again, patting him on the shoulder. Loki shook his head. In seconds, the crest of another orgasm ran over you like a train; heavy puffs filling the air as you tried not to create a red alert.

"Oh my god, oh my god…" you slurred under your breath, flopping into Loki’s rising body as he stood. He kept your leg elevated, hooking it around his hip. You heard the pop of his trouser buttons, felt the dip of his knees as he hoisted himself free.

"Be a good girl for me, Agent." Loki whispered with a wolfish smile. Hair fell around his face, strands sticking to the glisten coating his lips and chin. You kissed him in response, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth while your arms slid over his shoulders. Loki growled. He dragged his heavy cock between your folds, coating it. "Quiet." he ordered calmly, before bottoming out with a single thrust. It lifted you from the floor. Bottles rattled on the shelf behind, knocking into one another. Loki’s hand steadied one about to fall, his fingers gripping against the shelf when he was done. His hips lilted against your core with the tiniest of movements; stretching your cunt the way he always did. One of his pretty little staggered moans fluttered over your skin. And then, he began to thrust. Loki’s grip tightened on your bare calf, sinking into the soft flesh as he bottomed out again and again. Your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders, mounds meeting with every fuck between an obscene squelch. The scent of your cum on his mouth with every increasingly heavy breath made you clench, the t-shirt tangling beneath your grasping fingers at his back. You pulled the neckline down, sucking against his chest as his head fell back. Loki’s teeth were gritted to the ceiling, shadows carved into his cheekbones under the single fluorescent light that hung as witness. With every nailing buck of his hips, air was knocked from your lungs. But you kept your word – you were quiet; internally screaming his name as Loki of Asgard fucked you against the bleach and paper towels.

His head fell forward, slutty strands of hair sticking to a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. The effort of restraint was getting to him too, it seemed.

‘Going to cum,’ he mouthed with slanted, subby brows. You nodded, mouth hanging open. Loki’s lips crashed to yours, a force of air pummelling down your throat as he groaned his thundering climax deep into your mouth. His hips shook, the bottles behind you tumbling together. There was a thick crunch as the shelf he was gripping splintered in two. Loki broke from your kiss, moist forehead pressed to yours. He was panting heavily, Norse curses coming jumbled in breathy croaks.

"Fuck…" he choked. You slid your palms up his cheeks, pushing the hair back from his face.

"At least I was quiet," you whispered. Loki chuckled, sighing against your cheek. "This is what you do to me, woman-" he hummed, carefully returning your leg to the floor. There was a delicious throb in your pussy as his cock slid free.

You paused the work of his hand as he attempted to return it to his underwear; crouching down and sucking the remnants of arousal from the tip. He squeezed it from the base, making a fresh pearl appear. You licked it, placing a lingering kiss on the tip and looking up at him as you did it. "Fuck." the god repeated quietly. The hard K lingered.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in a dingy mirror in the corner. Cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, hair...un-salvageable. "We can’t keep doing this, Loki.’ you said decisively. ‘Steve’s not stupid."

“You asked me to come and save you from your scheduled drudgery with Rogers, so I did.” He stepped closer, drawing his nose down your temple, placing a soft kiss at the edge of your ear. “I always will,” he whispered, “you know that.” He wasn’t just talking about the meetings.

"I didn’t think you’d wear the tight v-neck, Loki…" you mumbled, trying frantically to fix your hair into some semblance of non-fucked-outness. "You know what that thing does to me." "Perhaps next time, you can assign an outfit in my possession that does not provoke this reaction," Loki purred, sliding his hands around your hips.

He kissed your neck, slow and deep; working his lips into the curve. "Personally I cannot think of one..." he whispered coyly in your ear.

A/N. Just a little note to say that my posting schedule (such as it is) is dropping slightly (actually, it already has - but I like being structured, so here we are) I'm planning to post a oneshot every two weeks for the foreseeable, at least the next few months. This will most likely be a Wednesday, as per 🤗

So, Wednesday March 13th, Wednesday March 27th and so on.

I'm balls deep in a project which I am SO EXCITED ABOUT and it's taking up a lot of time (which is great, because it's fun!) but as you know, my Loki stories and little fantasies mean the world to me and I love being involved here, it makes me really happy, so that's also very important. This way, I can manage both♥️

I know there will be no complaints, I'm aware how lucky I am to have some of the kindest, sweetest readers around. I just wanted to solidify The Plan™️. I'm still here in between posting dates with my usual nonsense obv, no change there 🤣🕵️

Tags (cont in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #lokismut #loki oneshot #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x yn #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #loki imagine #loki marvel

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

Text

tw - unbalanced power dynamics, prolonged imprisonment, wrongful imprisonment.

You’d gotten a key to his office, somehow.

For as much freedom as Wriothesley tried to allow the prisoners Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but wonder how you pulled that little trick off. There were only two copies, one of which he wore at his waist at all hours of the day while the other remained inside a sealed vault, locked behind a code only he knew. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d done it, and yet, there you were, emerging at the top of the staircase that led into his only private space, toying with a small bronze key and smiling too brightly for any part of your flawless expression to be genuine. The dubiously-acquired key was slid into one of the pockets of your cover-alls, your smile gifted the company of a breathy laugh, and then, any distance he might’ve been able to keep between the two of you was closed as you clambered onto his desk, stealing what little concentration he still had away. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back, giving you his full attention. This was a familiar routine, one he didn’t have the energy to fight. It wasn’t as if his resistance had ever done much good, not when it came to you.

You spoke first, predictably. He’d never really been the instigating type. “Good morning, your grace.”

“My cigarettes,” he said, nodding towards the corner of his desk where a red-striped paper box had sat a few seconds ago. “If you’re desperate enough to steal, you would’ve tried asking nicely first.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced his missing vice and handed it back to him, but not without snagging one for yourself and stowing it away for later use. It was a minor infraction, though – nothing he couldn’t write off as the price of your visit. “You know,” he went on, leaning back in his seat. “That kind of thing can add time onto your sentence. Not all the guards are going to be as forgiving as me.”

“None of the other guards have anything worth stealing.” Your tone was light, your answer given easily. Sometimes, he tried to picture what you’d look like frowning, yelling, or worse, with pursed lips, clenched fists, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to maintain what little dignity you had left, but he always came up empty. You were good at that – knowing just how much you could show without giving yourself away entirely. If Wriothesley was a crueler man, he may have been tempted to try and take you apart himself. “And even if they did, I’d still come to you first.” His response came in the form of an unimpressed scowl, and you chuckled. “C’mon! Even your heart can’t be cold enough not to find that at least a little bit touching, boss.”

Another sigh, this one somehow more drained than the last. “It’d mean more to me if your rehabilitation seriously,” and then, tapping his leg, “But, my treasured possessions aren’t all you’re here for, right?”

It was your turn to play exasperated, now, to groan and let your head lull to the side as you lowered yourself off of the desk and onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was part of your routine, too – his favorite part, as loathed as he’d be to ever say that out loud. Try as he might, he had yet to find anything that could compare to the way your weight rested against his, to how your body head warmed just a touch of the chill that’d seeped under his skin and settled years ago. Not many things were able to live in the fortress, not for very long, and yet, here you were, just as radiant as the day the gardes brought you in. If he’d had a more scientific mind, he might’ve thought you were worth studying.

“How long?” Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hummed and you repeated yourself, as well-trained as you were rebellious. “How long do I have left before I’m free to go?”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, resting his hands on your hips. “You can’t expect me to know something like that off the top of my head, love.”

“Yes, I can.” He felt you slump against him, your fingertips brush against the nape of his neck. “When it comes to me, I can.”

He let his eyes fall shut. “I requested another six months be added to your sentence last week,” he admitted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your throat “Since you had yet to show any signs of lasting rehabilitation. The Iudex approved it yesterday.”

You were so soft, too – uncalloused despite the pressure of the world above, the brutality of what waited for you below. He’d let you steal as many keys as you wanted to, so long as you never hardened. “This is the third extension you’ve asked for.”

“The longest, too.” He’d let you take anything from him, so long as it meant you never left his little world. “I doubt he even revisited your case. People in the overworld don’t tend to pay attention to the finer details of what does on down here, so long as I keep the factories running.”

For a second, he could’ve sworn he felt you stiffen, could’ve sworn he felt your grin waver where it was pressed into the dip of your shoulder.

Then, you were pulling away, your smile as bright as the sun’s light where it caught on the rising tide and twice as beautiful. “You’re never going to let me go, are you?”

This time, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Not if I can help it.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #genshin impact imagines #wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley #yanderecore #yancore

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brain-rot-central · 2 months

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor.

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul.

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins.

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck.

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end.

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other.

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak.

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried.

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath.

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well.

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.”

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix.

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-”

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with.

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago.

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed.

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows.

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #my writing #bg3 fanfiction

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pixievi · 10 months

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ROOMMATE VI (18+)

your roommate vi…who you have a desperate crush on. the one you think about late at night when you're so needy. all because of her. and she doesn't even know it, she seems so oblivious to how attractive she is. how just a mere smile or playful smirk she'd send your way is enough to make butterflies bubble in your tummy. or at least, that's what you thought.

with it being so late, you were sure vi must have been fast asleep. but you still took some care to be quiet, just in case. a few moans and whimpers had escaped you, as filthy thoughts and images played in your mind that harmonised with your thrusts. when vi had finished working out earlier, she messed around with you. trying to get you into a hug knowing damn well how sweaty she was and you lightheartedly fought against her, running away. but your freedom didn't last long, she caught you quickly. turning the chase into a playful grapple, mixed with giggles from the both of you. having her be a bit rough with you, while she was pinning you down, was doing too much to you. you wished instead of just giving you that tight hug, she turned you over and…

you moaned again, louder than the last time and you paused a moment, listening for any sign that you had woken vi. stillness met your ears and you slowly began to work the dildo in and out of you again. imagining that it was vi who was fucking it into your dripping pussy, instead of your tired hand. you thought of all the things she might breathe in your ear as she leaned over you, while she fucked you into the mattress.

"taking my cock so well bunny"

"fuck, you sound so pretty"

"gonna cum all over me? huh? gonna make a mess? c'mon, give it to me"

she deepened her thrusts and the squelching between your warm thighs got louder as you chased your high. thinking of your roommate on the other side of the wall. you whimpered as vi's cock your dildo dragged against your aching walls. you could almost see her muscled form above you, gripping the skin of your hips. so hard that you would bruise. you could almost feel and hear the slap of her thighs against the back of your own as she pounded into you.

and when you came, you couldn't stop the whine of vi's name escaping your lips, nor the gasps of bliss that followed. which were equally as loud. but, you didn't have to be loud for vi to hear anything. the walls were paper thin and vi heard everything.

definitely gonna come back to this one ;)

♡ @amorogre @ellies-converse @visndcaitswhore @happysparklingshadows @perrzs @violetsrxse @ghosthellz @k1mba @subbyprincesspebbles @headempty03 @vastseamind @hangesgirlypop @askforimagineoroneshot @whoreshores @purrculiar ♡

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #vi arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane smut #vi smut #arcane women #roommate au #smut #league of lesbians #arcane drabble #arcane imagines #pixievi vi #pixievi ♡

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months

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Remind Me - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband.

A/N: this is my first real attempt at angst but I ended up making it smutty and fluffy as well so there's that. I was inspired and got a little carried away. Inspired by Remind Me by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader

content/warnings: angst, allusions to cheating, allusions to divorce, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, Bradley being an unattentive husband bc he's clueless, fluffy ending.

word count: 4.6k

"Been so long that you'd forget, the way I used to kiss your neck Remind me, remind me So on fire, so in love, way back when we couldn't get enough Remind me, remind me"

You pulled into the driveway of your beachfront home, the salty Californian breeze encompassing you as you turned the key in the front door, a bag of groceries nestled on your hip as you pushed the door open. A deafening silence came over you as you walked through the entryway, and you noticed that your husband, Bradley, was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t unusual for Bradley to fall asleep in front of the tv on a Sunday afternoon, the drone of sports commentary providing a backdrop to his nap, a neglected bottle of beer warming on the coffee table, condensation tracing its descent down the amber glass. However, today, the usual harmonic sounds of Sportscenter and Bradley's gentle snores was conspicuously absent, replaced by an eerie quiet that settled around you like a heavy blanket, an empty couch, and a note on your kitchen counter - Bradley’s idea of conveying information that wasn’t life or death - scribbled in his distinct, masculine penmanship.

“Hey beautiful, be back soon, out for golf and beers with the boys - B.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable escapades, a mixture of annoyance and resignation washing over you. You let out a long huff as you set the groceries down on the counter, the rustle of paper bags echoing in the stillness of the kitchen. As you meticulously organized the contents into the fridge and pantry, your gaze fell upon the neglected stack of dirty dishes occupying the sink. Their number seemed to have multiplied since the previous night, despite Bradley’s assurances that he would take care of them. You had even reminded him earlier that morning, amidst sips of your morning coffee, only to receive a distracted hum and a vague nod as he scrolled through his phone, his attention elsewhere. This wasn’t anything new for you - Bradley often had a single tracked mind, unable to focus his attention on more than one thing at a time when he wasn’t in the cockpit of a plane, but lately, it felt like every conversation you tried to invoke was one-sided, with Bradley giving little more than a half-hearted “mhmm” in response, regardless of the topic.

As you closed the fridge, you noticed that your dry-erase calendar had a new date encircled in pink, with Bradley’s unmistakeable writing on display in the center.

“Mission: 3 wks?”

“Of course you have another fucking mission,” you grumbled to yourself, shaking your head.

The realization hit you like a freight train, slamming into your heart with a pang of unfairness. Bradley's profession demanded his constant departure and return, but the frequency of his missions seemed almost cruel, especially considering the fleeting moments of bliss you shared during his brief stints at home. Six weeks had barely passed since his last return, yet it felt as if his presence was unchanged from the way it had been when he was gone.

Between rigorous training sessions and endless briefings, Bradley sought solace in the camaraderie of his buddies – Jake, Reuben, and Mickey – the trio of bachelors who seemed to relish in their freedom. Their escapades ranged from impromptu drinks to leisurely rounds at the driving range, filled with a sense of masculinity and adventure that Bradley found himself longing to be a part of. Approaching the dreaded milestone of forty, he yearned for the carefree attitude he held in his youth, reminiscing about the exhilarating escapades of his twenties and earlier thirties - ending right around 36 years old when he met you.

In a bid to reclaim some form of that lost spontaneity, Bradley had tentatively ventured into his friends realm, seeking companionship in their revelries. Initially relegated to the role of designated driver, his latent talent for piano and penchant for serenading transformed him into the life of the party. What started as a sporadic outing soon morphed into a monthly ritual, then gradually escalated into a seemingly incessant cycle where every day not spent on base was dedicated to partying it up with "the boys"

As you sank into the welcoming embrace of the couch, enveloped by its plush cushions, a sense of desolation washed over you like a tidal wave. Clutching a pint-sized tub of ice cream to your chest, you sought solace in the flickering glow of the television, scanning through channels in a futile attempt to distract yourself from the gnawing ache within until Bradley came home. Settling on a marathon of romantic comedies on one of the dozens of channels that seem to play nothing but movies and reruns of old sitcoms, you blinked back tears as you watched the romance unfold on tv, all while feeling like your own was slowly dying.

It was three and a half hours later when Bradley finally came clattering through the door, a couple beers deep. You heard him clumsily kick his deck shoes off at the door, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked down the hall with heavy steps. You did your best to ignore him, wanting to make it clear that you were upset, but not having the fight in you after three and a half hours of crying into a carton of chocolate peanut butter ice cream over Katherine Heigl and James Marsden and Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas and their romantic gestures, tender embraces and declarations of love and happily ever afters. You fixed your eyes on the tv as you caught sight of Bradley from the corner of your eye, his fluorescent pink golf shirt almost impossible to ignore.

As Bradley's voice echoed through the living room, infused with a hint of playful banter, you felt a pang of resignation tugging at your heartstrings. His honeyed drawl, his sun-kissed glow and his almost blonde highlights cascading through his curls, created a striking contrast against the solemnity that enveloped the room. With sunglasses perched atop his head like a crown, Bradley sauntered into view, his caramel-colored eyes scanning the scene before him with a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Hey honey! When’d you get home? You watchin’ one of those chick flicks?”, he spoke with a playful tone, an underlying hint of apprehension lingering in the air.

Ignoring his inquiry, you remained in your silence, your gaze fixed upon the flickering images on the television screen. Bradley's brow furrowed, the lines etching across his forehead as he searched for a clue amidst the sea of your emotions.

“Aw, I don’t mean chick flick in a bad way, baby, I’m just teasin’”, he continued, his voice laced with a soft plea for understanding. “Some of them aren’t so bad, you know, I like a couple of ‘em.”

When he was once again met with silence, Bradley took a couple of steps closer to where you lay on the couch, moving his tall, six-foot-three, athletic frame into your line of view. You continued to focus on the tv, finding it nearly impossible to ignore the neon hue of Bradley’s polo shirt now, noticing how he’d paired it with a basic pair of khaki shorts and his Ray-Ban aviators that he never left home without. He knit his brows together as he watched you, his eyes wafting over to the now empty ice cream tub with a single spoon sitting inside, resting on the coffee table. He hummed softly - something he often did when he was trying to think, as a confused look started forming on his face.

“Baby, come on, what’s bothering ya?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, “Did I do somethin’? ‘Cause if I did, I’m sorry for whatever it is.”

“You aren’t,” you finally responded, not breaking eye contact with Ryan Gosling as he appeared on the tv.

“I’m not what, babe?”

“Sorry. You’re not sorry. You never are sorry.”

“Honey, I’m not following ya.”

You huffed and shook your head as you sat up on the couch, wiping your eyes as you felt the hot tears stinging them once again as they threatened to make a return. A raw aching feeling built up within you as you took a deep breath, preparing to have the conversation you’d been dreading for who-knows-how-long. You looked down at your wedding band for a moment, the sight of it nearly enough to trigger painful sobs as you braced yourself for what was about to transpire between you and your husband.

“You’re not sorry. You’re never home because you choose to never be home. You’re not sorry for it. It’s like you don’t want to be around me, Bradley,” you started slowly, shaking your head as the tears began to fall.

“Baby, hang on-” Bradley begins before you cut him off.

“Look, Bradley, if you’re unhappy-”

“Unhappy? Baby, no, I could never be unhappy with you, what are you talking about?” Bradley cooed, kneeling down beside the couch as he brushed your hair behind your ear in a tender gesture to ermphasize his point.

“Are you seeing other women when you go out with the guys?” You say bluntly, giving Bradley a stare that practically burns right through him.

“What?! Honey, I think you’re getting the wrong idea here.”

“It’s really not that far-fetched, Bradley. You’re always wanting to go out with your only single friends, you constantly go out to play wingman with them at bars to help them get laid, then when you’re home, you never listen to me, it’s like I may as well be talking to myself most of the time. I only seem to see you if you’re hungry or asleep and that’s only because you can’t boil water to save your life and our bed is the only one in the house that always has clean sheets on it.”

“Babe, I don’t know who the fuck you think you married-” Bradley protested.

“Oh, really? Mr. “Didn’t-get-married-until-he-was-38-because-he-liked-picking-up-girls-in-bars-better? Wasn’t it because that was more convenient for you? Because then you’d never have a “little lady back home to worry about” whenever you went away?”

“That was before I met you, the minute I met you, I stopped wanting to do any of that bullshit. Our first date, I knew I wanted to marry you, honey.”

“That doesn’t mean that’s how you feel now, does it?! I mean, Christ’s sake, Bradley, when was the last time you even kissed me?! Let alone had sex with me, for fuck’s sake. I thought you wanted to try having kids soon once you got your promotion settled,” you said as your voice cracked, shaking your head.

“Honey, please,” Bradley began pleading, shaking his head.

You abruptly stood up from the couch, walking away from him and heading towards the kitchen. You opened the fridge, conveniently using the door to block Bradley from your sight, your anger towards him boiling towards the edge now. You grabbed yourself a drink and cracked the top off with the bottle opener, slamming the fridge door shut. Bradley held his hands up in defense as he looked at you, an expression of complete astoundment on his face.

“Baby, I may not be the smartest man out there, but I’m not unfaithful, you know that. I know you know that deep down.”

“Bradley, I don’t know what I know anymore. I used to know that you loved me too, but that doesn’t seem to hold true.”

“What are you talking about?! Honey, you know that I love you.”

“Do I?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Sweetheart, I’ve never loved anyone like I do you. I know showing it isn’t my strong suit - I never got to see much of an example other than pictures of my folks, but I know damn well that I look at you the same way my dad looked at my mom. And I know that I’ve never, in the four years since we started dating, ever, as much as entertained the idea of being with another woman. I married you. Remember? You were there. Better or worse, sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part, all that?”

“It’s pretty easy to vow to love someone for better or for worse when you’re never fucking around, isn’t it, Bradley?!”

“Well forgive me for fighting for our fucking country, Honey. What, you want me to just walk away from my duty?”

“Your country and your boys come before your wife, do you not see how fucked up that is?”

“You come first, always. I work as hard as I do at work for you. I try to work my ass off to get promotions and be leader on missions so I can make sure you’re taken care of. So that if anything ever happened to me, you’d be set, you’d never have to worry about a thing.”

“I don’t want that! I want you. You could pump gas for a living or be a lifeguard on the beach for all I fucking care. All I know is, the man I married isn’t here anymore, and I don’t know where he went or why.”

Bradley shook his head angrily and scoffed. His face began to turn red as he narrowed his eyes, beginning to talk with his hands.

“I’m the same fucking guy! Babe, is this seriously because I went golfing this afternoon?”

“No, Bradley, it’s because you’ve been home for six weeks and you haven’t as much as kissed me since you got home off the last mission, and I just saw that you put a new three week one on the calendar. You leave in 10 days and you didn’t even tell me! What, were you just going to fuck off and go when it came and not say a word?”

An awkward hush fell over the two of you, echoing throughout the house. Bradley looked to his feet, remaining quiet as he shook his head. He sighed loudly and pressed his hand to his forehead before looking up at you again.

“Honey, believe me, I only found out this morning, I was going to tell you…but,” He frowns as he realizes why he didn’t tell you. “But then Jake called, and I wanted to blow off steam about it, so I agreed to hit a few holes with him. But, Baby, I swear to you, I am the exact same Lieutenant Bradshaw who asked you out on a date four years ago. Remember? I almost missed a briefing just to talk to you. Nearly got my ass in trouble for it, but you were worth every second.”

You looked up at Bradley, sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip as you shook your head, almost in disbelief as you remembered how you and Bradley had met.

You were visiting Coronado for the day, your first trip over the San Diego Bay since moving to the city from Colorado Springs. The sun had been shining as you strolled through the picturesque town on the Pacific coast. Bradley had been walking up to one of the dozens of restaurants that scattered the main strip for lunch with a couple of his comrades, dressed in his khaki uniform as he waited in line for his food, his tanned skin and broad shoulders catching your eye almost immediately. He flashed a smile at you, and in that moment, you’d managed to forget your own name, completely entranced by the man in front of you.

From there, Bradley had asked you to sit with him for lunch, leaving his friends behind at a nearby picnic table. The two of you had so much fun simply talking that he didn’t realize the time, or that his friends had already left, and that he had to be back on base for a briefing in 10 minutes. He’d quickly exchanged numbers with you and practically sprinted back to his car - a 1972 Ford Bronco in pristine condition, something you remembered about him immediately, a detail you’d found yourself looking for on your outings in the downtown core of San Diego, in case he’d made the trip to your side of the bridge for some reason.

A week later you were on a second date, and from there, your relationship became official soon after, with a marriage proposal happening on your first anniversary when Bradley arrived home from a mission. He saw you waiting for him on base, standing there in a pale blue sundress, looking even more beautiful than he’d remembered when he left a few weeks prior. He ran up to you, picking you up and swirling you around as he held you close, kissing you more passionately than he’d ever done before. No sooner than he put you back down, he dropped to one knee and asked you to be his wife, and you said yes, without an ounce of hesitation.

“Bradley,” you sighed sadly, shaking your head as you looked up at him.

“Honey, I swear to you, from the day that I asked you to sit down for lunch with me, I have never even looked at another woman. All I ever do for the guys when we go out is offer to talk to a girl on Jake’s behalf after he fucks it up and I have to go explain that his brain stopped maturing once he hit about age 15 when it comes to women. He thinks with his dick sometimes and gets his dumbass in trouble. I just go smooth it over so he doesn’t get a kick to the nuts or arrested for something stupid, like fighting some girl’s boyfriend.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, Sweetheart, oh my God, you really thought I was cheating on you? What would any other woman have that you don’t? I’m just there babysitting Jake, and, I usually get a free beer and a plate of Buffalo wings out of the deal.”

“You...you do it for chicken wings?”

“I mean, I do it to hang out with my friends in situations where we’re not planning a mission or flying like our asses depend on it because we might not make it home otherwise.”

You nod your head slowly as everything suddenly starts making sense. It wasn’t that Bradley didn’t want to be with you, it was that he wanted some sense of normalcy with his friends, instead of what had become normal for them at work. You could appreciate it, even if Bradley was going about things the wrong way.

“Can I show you something?” He said softly, cautiously reaching out to take you by the hand as you nodded your head.

Bradley pulled you in close to his body, wrapping you up in his strong arms and holding you in a passionate embrace as he kissed you with everything he had in him. His lips hungrily kissed at yours, his tongue flitting out to trace your bottom lip as you parted your mouth just so to allow him access. A soft, breathy moan escaped from your throat as you kissed Bradley, the passion overtaking you as he gently pulled away, still hovering above your mouth.

“I want to remind you how much I love you.”

Without another word, Bradley hoisted you up onto the counter, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you towards him. He knelt down in front of you, gently tapping your inner thigh with his hand as you parted your legs for him. Bradley pulled your comfy shorts down off your waist, dragging them down your legs before dropping them to the floor. He ducked his head down between your thighs as his hands rested on you, pulling you ever so slightly in towards him. His tongue licked a long, slow trail up your slit, eliciting a loud, breathy gasp from your lips.

Bradley’s tongue began to work at you, licking and sucking at your sensitive clit as you tilted your head back. Your fingers raked their way into his curls, tugging gently on them as you guided his head in to your center, a whine leaving your lips as you felt him encircling it with his tongue, his touch delicate, yet passionate, as if he was making this his life’s work. You felt his tongue tracing shapes on you - letters, almost, and Bradley’s muffled voice had a tone of seduction to it as he spoke, his lips vibrating against your swollen, puffy cunt, sending a whole new sensation through you.

“Bradley!” You cried out, throwing your head forward to watch what he was doing, “I-I’m getting close, honey.”

Bradley looked up at you from under hooded lids as he watched your facial expressions, loving how your body was reacting to his touch. There was a newfound look of determination in his eyes as he slipped two of his long, slender fingers inside of you without breaking contact with his mouth. The feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot and his combination of licking and sucking at your clit like a man starved was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs began to quiver as you felt yourself approach your climax, screaming out Bradley’s name, making it the only sound that could be heard echoing through your empty house.

“Gonna explain what the fuck that new technique of yours is?” You panted as you came down from your euphoria, your head spinning as you stared at Bradley, who was wiping his chin with the back of his hand and sporting a look of pure pride.

“My wedding vows,” He shrugged, as if this was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“Your vows? You recited your vows?”

“Sure did, babygirl. Had to show you I remembered them somehow, figured that was better than me reciting them while bending you over the countertop. I’m not done convincing you just yet though.”

He smirked, taking you by the hand as he helped you down off the counter. Bradley turned you around, your back facing him as he placed his firm, strong hand on you, guiding you as you bent over and rested your hands on the cold marble surface in front of you. You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you realized your husband’s methods of making it up to you - he was never great with words, spoken apologies usually ended up coming out wrong, words getting tangled and twisted on his tongue, unable to string together a coherent sentence that held any meaning. However, what Bradley lacked in his communication, he made up for with his actions, doing whatever grandiose measure he could to make it up to you.

Bradley’s broad hand stroked your back, running down to your ass as he gave it a playful squeeze. He let out a low groan as he undid his golf shorts, hurriedly kicking them off behind him. Bradley gave his cock a few quick strokes with his hand before running his tip along your dripping wet slit to tease you.

“Ready for me, Honey?” He purred, grinning as he watched you tense up as you felt him brush against your clit.

“Bradley, so help me, if you don’t stop teasing me-” your sentence was cut off abruptly as you felt Bradley buck his hips forward, pushing his length into your entrance.

You whined as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, feeling full as he bottomed out inside of you, Bradley leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder as he gave you time to adjust. Bradley stood himself upright, lining his hips up with yours as he pulled back before giving a hard thrust forwards. He began pumping himself in and out of you, snapping his hips into a rhythm as he held your hips in place with his hands. Each thrust was sharp and calculated, hitting all the right places in perfect timing. There was one thing your husband prided himself on more than anything, and that was how well he made love to his wife.

“That’s it, Honey, you look so pretty taking my cock like this,” Bradley hummed, his voice sultry and smooth as he praised you.

“Bradley, harder.” You commanded, whining as you felt an aching need for him to let you cum.

Bradley began thrusting deeper into you, taking less care to be gentle with each movement. You felt your knees buckling with pleasure as he thrusted, and the sounds coming from both you and Bradley were beyond obscene, but in the best possible way.

“Baby, I’m getting close,” He breathed, tilting his head back and panting. “Do you want me to pull out?”

“No!” You responded, clenching your thighs around him, in a more zealous response than you intended. “Need you, Bradley. I don’t care what happens. I need you.”

You could almost hear the change in tone from Bradley as soon as you spoke. Except, instead of killing the mood, like you’d anticipated, Bradley began fucking himself into you harder than before, almost desperate as he gripped your hips tightly.

“You want me to fill you up, my pretty girl? Want me to cum in that tight little pussy of yours?” He husked, his body practically giving way to pleasure as he thought about it.

“Mhmm!” was all you could muster out of you as you nodded your head, feeling yourself reach your orgasm again, your walls clenching around him tightly.

“Fuck, Honey, you got it. Anything you want, Babygirl, I’ve got ya.” He babbled as he fell apart inside of you.

You placed your palms flat against the counter to hold yourself steady as Bradley’s thrusts became sloppier, slowing until they reached a gradual stop. He held his positon inside of you for a few moments while he caught his breath, almost too exhausted to move. As he pulled out, you let out a deep sigh, almost aching at the now emptiness in you.

You finally got air back into your lungs as you stood upright, turning to face him as you leaned your back against the counter. Your gaze fell on Bradley, a blissful look of exhaustion on your face. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, his curls now slightly dampened from a mixture of the Californian humidity and the passionately wild sex you’d just had. Bradley gave you a crooked grin as he gently put his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to him.

“How was that for my apology? Or do you need me to do it again? ‘Cause if you give me like, an hour, I’ll go grab one of those Body whatever drinks Jake always has after a workout and I’ll be good to go for another round,” Bradley chuckled, stroking your hair.

“It was good, you’re forgiven. But,” you paused, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you. “I’d appreciate it if you spent a little more time with me. Maybe we could catch a ball game together, go for a road trip or something.”

“You know what? That sounds like a great idea. I’ve got tomorrow and the next day off. We could drive up to Malibu or something. Hell, Vegas is only four hours. May as well check that off our bucket list while we still can.”

“While we still can?” You cocked your head to the side, giving him an incredulous look.

“Well, you just begged me not to pull out…and if it’s alright by you, I’d kinda like to see what happens if we kept doing that,” Bradley said with a playful grin, laughing as he stroked your cheek.

“Oh, is that so?” You smirked, shaking your head at him.

“Well, this road trip will give us four hours and a lot of desert to pull over in. You’ll get lots of chances to see what happens.”

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