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#Cupid Takes A Holiday
yokyoaaa · 3 months
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Happy Valentine's day!! Ft. Kirby the worse wingman out there
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humbug-demartino · 7 months
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"Depth Takes a Holiday" [S3 Ep03]
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signedkoko · 3 months
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Signed with Love - Hazbin Cast
What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤
Characters - Adam | Alastor | Charlie | Cherri | Husk | Lucifer | Lute | Pentious | Vaggie
Series Parts Overlords & SIns - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!
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Sup bitch,
Looking for a valentine, cupid told me ur my soulmate, so how about you be mine?
You know I love teasing ya babe, but really, I got a reso for that restaurant you love, I'd tell you what to wear but the less the better.
Lova ya hot stuff
ORIGINAL DICKMASTER
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Salutations my lovely doe!
Another opportunity to show my dear just how much I love them, what more could I ask?
I'd offer my cooking, but I know you don't have quite the palette for venison. Instead, I've prepared a private dinner, catered to by a lovely cafe a good friend of mine runs.
I'll be there to get you at half past two,
A.
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Hiii ❣
I hope you don't mind me asking but I REALLY wanted to be the one to ask if you'd be my valentine?
I haven't decided what we should do yet, I was thinking rock climbing, or how about a fancy dinner? Ahh I have so many ideas! We can talk about it later!
Thinking of you always,
Charlie (Morningstar, Princess of Hell, Manager of the Hazbin Hotel (now booking!!), potential valentine of you!)
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Heya girly,
I'm not one for holidays, but I know you reallllly wanted to try this one out. So! be my valentine?
I'll bring you to that great viewpoint I hang at, maybe show you how I make some of my arsenal. Just dress comfy, it's going to be a lot of moving!
You better be swooning already!
Your favourite 💣
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Hey,
I'm thinking this year we could try something new. As stupid as it sounds, will you be my valentine?
I've got a stack of rental movies and one empty ass theatre room. Still sure no one realized we even have one, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think and we can go pick up some drinks before.
Looking forward to it,
Husker
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Hiii ❣
I know you told me not to go crazy this year, but how could I not! So, valentine...
I left a bag with this note, it's got a few outfits for you to pick that will match mine! Just be ready by 6 tonight, we've got a lot of stops. Drinks, dinner, a performance at Ozzie's, and a reserved spot in my bed tonight.
Happy valentines day,
Yours truly
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I pray this letter reaches you,
Maybe you don't expect it of me, but you deserve to feel as special as everyone else this valentines.
So, I've got a surprise dinner set up for us this valentines. If you are willing, dress nice for four tomorrow and I can take you for a flight before it. Just don't wear anything that might fall off.
Your angel,
Lt. Lute
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Dearest serpentine,
It would be ever so joyous to accompany you this valentines, if that is okay of course!
My egg bois have insisted upon serenading us and treating us to a nice dinner in my war machine. I promise you it is in prim and proper shape for such a day.
Yours sincerely
(Future) Overlord Pentious
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Hey hun,
You've talked a lot about valentines recently, and while I know we said we'd overlook it, I feel like you deserve to know how much I love you.
When you get the chance, I've got a bottle of wine and a free night to decide what we want to do. Just swing by after eight?
See ya valentine,
Vaggie
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Authors Note - Ahahaha can you tell I don't write Adam much? Either way, part one of the valentines series 🖤 If you don't have a valentine this year, please allow me to be yours! Or let me know which of these folks you'd accept a letter from 🤭
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seokgyuu · 3 months
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What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 
pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)
warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.
word count: 5k
a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3
“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”
smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).
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There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 
Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 
“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 
All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 
That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 
“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”
“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.
“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 
Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 
You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 
The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 
The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 
You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 
Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.
“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 
“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.
“Control freak much?” 
Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 
“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 
“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 
Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.
“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”
“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”
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For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 
It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.
You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 
Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.
“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!
Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.
“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”
His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.
“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.
“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?
“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”
“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 
“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”
Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.
“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 
To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.
“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”
The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.
“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”
He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 
“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”
You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 
“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 
“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 
He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 
“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.
“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 
When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 
As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 
If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 
It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 
Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 
He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 
“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.
“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 
“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.
“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 
“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 
Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 
When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 
“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 
Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 
He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 
“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 
Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 
“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 
“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 
Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.
“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.
“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 
“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 
“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.
“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.
His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 
He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 
“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 
“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 
When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 
It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 
“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.
“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 
“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 
You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.
“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 
It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 
“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”
And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.
Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation
Length: 8600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"I need to move."
Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout. 
"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"
For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."
"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.
You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"
"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"
"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"
Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."
You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."
"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."
Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"
"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."
You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."
Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.
"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."
You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."
Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.
------------------------
You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.
He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.
"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.
You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time. 
"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."
But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.
Fuck.
It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"
His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."
His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"
He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."
--------------------------
You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.
"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?
But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.
He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was. 
You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."
He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge." 
When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"
"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.
You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"
"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"
You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."
He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."
With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."
"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked. 
"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.
"My treat."
"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."
"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.
"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."
He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."
Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."
Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."
You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth. 
He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.
"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."
Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."
"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"
He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.
You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"
Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?" 
"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"
"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."
You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"
Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"
You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."
"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."
Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."
He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"
"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.
-------------------------
You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"
"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.
You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."
"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza. 
"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"
His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking." 
He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"
Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."
You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"
"What?" 
You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."
He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar." 
"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."
He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"
You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"
Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"
"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."
Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"
"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."
A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."
"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep. 
----------------------
Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.
He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.
You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way. 
When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."
"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."
"M'kay." 
Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side. 
Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"
He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."
You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.
"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him. 
The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him. 
After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 
"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."
He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."
Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."
With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.
----------------------------
Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home. 
The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you. 
So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there. 
You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.
"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.
"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"
"Right now?" he asked immediately.
You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."
"I'll be there soon."
He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.
"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"
"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."
"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."
You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."
Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."
That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.
Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"
"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"
"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"
You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."
You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."
He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."
Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers. 
"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."
"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.
"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room. 
"I don't really want to do that."
You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"
He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.
"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.
He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."
------------------------
You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar. 
"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.
"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."
Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."
Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."
Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him. 
"I think you should quit," he told you blandly. 
"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."
"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."
You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"
He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.
"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"
You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too. 
You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.
Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.
If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar. 
"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started. 
"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."
Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."
That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.
The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them. 
Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped. 
Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process. 
"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"
He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."
"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit. 
"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."
You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again. 
"Not those ones."
You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"
His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him. 
Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."
"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."
He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet. 
"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."
"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding." 
He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips. 
Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case. 
But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.
His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him. 
Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life. 
Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered. 
"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.
He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot. 
"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers. 
"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone. 
Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms. 
"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.
"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."
Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.
Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.
You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."
"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."
You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."
"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache. 
"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.
You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."
"Why?" he demanded again. 
Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."
"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body. 
You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."
Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."
His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."
"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."
"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response. 
"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.
He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."
"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.
"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."
"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."
----------------------------
You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.
"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk. 
"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.
"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."
"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."
"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.
You moaned. "I owe him so much."
Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."
"What conclusion would that be?"
"That you're in love with me."
You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."
Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."
That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love. 
"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."
"Just for that, you get a remix too."
---------------------------
I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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1K notes · View notes
slmjaeyuns · 8 months
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ jake sim fics that make my heart go pitter patter⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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beautiful pieces of art written for my most beautiful boy
~~ a new, updated fic rec list for the boy who owns my heart because i be reading okay, y’all *cries*
part one / first jake fic rec list here!!
warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! (jake x afab reader/gn reader) minors dni, please‼️
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
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all time favourites ♡
fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)
♡ rule number 1: don’t fall in love
♡ kiwi and layla
♡ hold me like you always do
♡ 14 steps to a better you
♡ pocky
♡ always
♡ monkey bars (part one)
♡ roman holiday
♡ to all my firsts with you
special ending
♡ you are in love
♡ the set up
♡ midnight rain (back to you)
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fluff ❀
❀ cupid
❀ classmate au
❀ chapsticks
❀ 6:17am
❀ our kimchi
❀ sim jaeyun - the one with things that happen in your friendship
❀ i find my paradise
❀ strawberries and cigarettes
❀ that’s how you get the girl
❀ good girl
❀ go ahead*
❀ 21:14*
*ps: my potterhead self (who happens to be a slytherin) was squealing and kicking my feet reading these two likeeeee eeeeeeepp
❀ wait, date?
❀ try again
❀ sunday mornings
❀ 8:30pm
❀ speak now
❀ home = you
❀ in another universe
❀ care and love
❀ is that seat (=are you) taken?
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angst ☽
☽ cupid’s mistake
☽ was this shirt always so big?
☽ can you please come over
☽ i’m low on gas and you need a jacket
☽ wish you back
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suggestive/smut ☁︎
☁︎ body on me
☁︎ grateful sinners
☁︎ cruel summer
☁︎ two best friends in a room
☁︎ dying to drive but you can’t find the keys
☁︎ coffee and mathematical physics
☁︎ tease
☁︎ how jake kisses you
☁︎ bestfriendsbrother!jake drabble
☁︎ the taste of you
☁︎ he’s yours, but am i?
☁︎ silly competitions
☁︎ prove it
☁︎ focus
☁︎ fwb!jake
☁︎ can i kiss you?
☁︎ take me away
☁︎ forgotten consequences
☁︎ brand new moves
☁︎ help you out
☁︎ addict
☁︎ talk me down
☁︎ for old times sake
☁︎ get off that stupid game
2K notes · View notes
zreamy · 10 months
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spf 23
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?
genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..
warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon
word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.
playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande
author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy &lt;;333
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It’s the hottest day of the last summer of your life. 
The sun’s rays coat your skin in a film of sticky sweat and sunscreen. Crisp white clouds hang in the sky, drifting overhead. Yunjin complains about the temperature as if you and Chaewon aren’t outside with her.
If you strain your ears over yelling children and raucous laughter, you can just about hear a Top 40 playlist looping Cupid and Dua Lipa songs through age-weakened speakers. What holds your attention the most, though, is the blond by the pool. He leans back on his hands with pretty fingers spread out behind him. He’s been lifeguarding at the public pool for more summers than you care to count but he’d never looked like this while he did it. 
Park Sunghoon seems relaxed as he sits on the pool’s edge, kicking his legs in the water and scanning the space. Presumably watching out for kids drowning, or diving, or.. whatever it is lifeguards get up to at work. His voice is deep as he (half-heartedly) yells at a group of kids with water guns to stop running. When did he get so buff?
He’s always been attractive. Always. But this is outrageous. The bleached hair. The toned arms. The sliver of skin you can see peeking out from under his cropped vest. It’s almost too much to take yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. Given the way he turns his head when you catch his gaze — with flushed cheeks and upturned lips — you assume his glow-up has been purely external. 
“Can you believe this might be the last summer we spend here together? Like, this time next year we’ll be graduates.” Yunjin’s sudden statement makes you wish she’d go back to talking about the weather. 
Chaewon’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”
“Is it bad that I’m looking forward to fall?” Yunjin asks. “No offence, YN.” 
This isn’t the first time she’s shared such a sentiment. Last summer and the one before, she’d said something similar before clarifying. She’s excited about her new classes, not about you going back to your apartment a few towns over.
You’re only looking forward to your shared two-bed and Minjeong’s dinners. It pains you to have to thank university for anything, but thank university for giving you something to miss over the holidays. 
“None taken, YJ, but break just started last week.” 
“Our last finals were five weeks ago.”
“Well, you know break doesn’t really start until our girl gets back.” Chaewon leans up in her seat to grin at you. She raises her cup, the tiny puddle of melted slushy shaking a little. “Here’s to the best summer ever!” 
Needing all the affirmation you can get, you entertain her, raising your own cup so the three of you can toast properly. 
“Cheers!”
The next few hours do nothing to affirm your belief in the effectiveness of toasting. Recently hot Sunghoon hasn’t taken his shirt off yet and you’re not sure how many more times you can beg your friends to stay for another half hour in hopes something will happen that causes him to tear the thing off. At this point you’d settle for a simple conversation or even the word hey.
“I’m begging, like, actually, let’s go.” Yunjin groans, sitting up.
“Just let me pee first,” you grumble, attempting to buy more time as you stand up from your lounge chair, packing up your towel and the magazine you never bothered to look at. 
On your walk to the restroom, you see him leaning in the doorframe of the changing rooms with his toned arms crossed over his chest. Perfect. There’s a smile on your face as you approach him and unexpectedly he speaks before you do. 
"He—" He clears his throat, thick brows coming together as he places a big hand on his chest. "Hey."
You let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
He straightens up his posture and nods his head, blond hair shifting over his forehead from the movement. 
The sounds of the public pool fill the silence stretching over you, though it’s not enough to distract you from the way his eyes trail over your body, landing on your chest as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” he eventually introduces, extending a hand for you to shake. 
A smile stretches across your lips when you do, noticing how much bigger his hand is than yours when his fingers wrap around it and cover the whole thing. “I know,” you nod.
“You,” Sunghoon pauses, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words. “Know?” His brows quirk up. 
You hum in response. “We had Spanish together. You sat with.. that kid,” Your hands come up to gesture around your chin and neck. “With the jaw, Jay, was it?” 
He looks at something over your shoulder for a bit while you worry that he didn’t take Spanish and you’ve got the wrong guy, but a laugh rises out of him instead. “Yeah,” he grins. “Jay.” Nods his head.
Despite stuttering his way through the conversation, Sunghoon makes you laugh as he tells you about how he didn’t realise he’d have to swim on the job and almost drowned trying to save a kid in the deep end. He seems more confident after seeing that his story was well received though he still fidgets with his hands, and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second at a time, always looking away and clearing his throat. 
The story was a bit of a ramble, and it might be the most words you’ve ever heard him say all at once before falling quiet, though his pretty lips open and close a few times as if he’s stuck on what to say. “How-” He’s cut off by the sound of someone yelling his name. 
In the pool, a cute (and very tall) kid waving his arms above his head yelling: Quickly! Quickly! makes you laugh, and the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes makes it clear he knows him.
Much to your dismay, the yelling doesn’t stop and you realise you’ll have to make your exit. “I’ll let you get going, but, uh, say hi to Jay for me, okay?” you say, grinning at the way he nods his head, mumbling yeah, of course before you turn around to leave.
Sunghoon’s still standing in the spot you left him in, hands crossed over his chest as he eyes you. Head snapping in the other direction when you look back over your shoulder to call out a: Later, Hoonie, with a wave of your fingers.
Chaewon watches you over her sunglasses with a smirk on her face as you approach. “Who is that?”
You crinkle your nose. “Park Sunghoon.”
At the sound of his name, Yunjin gasps, abruptly sitting up in her chair. “The figure skater?”
“The what?”
At home, you type his name into the search bar and find that the shy boy you’d only met properly some hours ago is something of a celebrity in the skating world. 
You watch YouTube videos of his short programs and feel a swell of pride with each jump he lands. The tiny Sunghoon on the screen carries an air of confidence as he glides across the ice — nothing like the Sunghoon you’d met at the pool today. And definitely nothing like the quiet Sunghoon who’d sit in the back of your 9th grade Spanish class conjugating verbs as his friends got into trouble for talking over the teacher. 
It’s not hard to trip down a rabbit hole, and suddenly every video with his name in the title has a little red bar under the thumbnail as a mark of your affection. It doesn’t take long for you to find Instagram user smartblond, and the blue follow button on his page greets you with the option to follow back, which leaves you feeling a little bad as the pad of your thumb falls onto it unthinkingly. 
Sunghoon’s feed leaves much to be desired. A modest 1 post he’d made 4 years prior, a square photo of himself and Lee Heeseung with bros as the caption. The only comment is from Heeseung who wrote ma boiiii. The tagged photos however tell a different story. 
Thankfully.  
You spend longer than you’d like to admit scrolling through these pictures, grinning and ignoring the way your stomach flips at the sight of the seemingly outgoing boy captured in the pictures posted by his closest friends with wide smiles and middle fingers while trying not to hit like on any of them. Even though you do like them. A lot. Except for the one of him and Bae Sumin at the pool with pretty smiles on their faces, and their arms around each other that she posted 15 weeks ago with the caption lifesaver. A smile spreads on your lips when you see Sumin’s (way more populated) page and the post she made yesterday to celebrate two years with her boyfriend. 
Distraction only reaches you in the form of an alert from your university’s portal app. The words you’ve got new correspondence in your inbox wipe the smile from your face in an instant. While chewing at your lip, you click on the notification and wait for the email to load. 
A pit forms in your stomach while reading four paragraphs offering advice for people who’ve failed their final exams. At the end is a link that you click with squinted eyes. A countdown appears and there are 8 days, 12 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until results are out.
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During your next trip to the pool, you hear Sunghoon before you see him and his voice comes out in a cute whine when he speaks. “Why do you guys only wanna hang out here when I'm working?” 
Looking over your sunglasses, you see him running a hand through his hair, looking up from the water at a group of boys you recognise from both high school and his tagged photos, including the very tall kid who’d cut your conversation short the other day. With a wide grin on his face, he slings a towel over his shoulder and calls out something about the concession stand before running for the changing rooms and ignoring Sunghoon’s cries to stop. 
His back flexes deliciously as he wades around the mostly empty pool, chatting to his friends, and in all of your staring you notice Jay’s eyes on you, looking back to Sunghoon after a while and nodding his head not so subtly in your direction.
You look at Yunjin in the lounge chair next to you, who stares at the remnants of your blue raspberry slushy with disgust on her face, finishing off her cherry-flavoured one. “I said thanks when you came back with them, it’s abnormal to want this much recognition over a £1 purchase,” you say defensively, sighing and thanking her again anyways. 
“You should thank Sunghoon’s giant friend,” she says, nodding in his direction. “He came over to me in the line, asked how I knew you, and gave me change when I told him Chaewon introduced us.” 
“Huh,” you say, taking a refreshing sip, the last, before putting your cup down between your chairs. 
“I don’t understand what you see in that insane flavour.” She leans over to put her now empty cup next to yours. “It’s.. unnatural,” she says, shuddering dramatically. 
“It’s the only flavour I like,” you say simply, watching in your peripheral as your new favourite lifeguard (not that you have an old favourite) climbs over the edge of the pool.
The sight of Sunghoon’s lean figure coming out of the pool only makes you regret ever wanting to see him with his shirt off. Water slips from every part of his body in droplets, running from his broad shoulders down his veiny forearms before falling from his pretty fingers onto the ground. This must be the fittest-looking person you’ve ever seen, and Kazuha can do push-ups (one) with you and Chaewon on her back. 
With his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he laughs at something one of his friends said and it’s only when he looks over at you that you’re able to tear your eyes away. 
You miss the sight as soon as it’s gone. 
“That’s absurd,” Yunjin says after a moment. You have no idea what she’s talking about. “Can I open the Skittles?”
You’d forgotten about those. “Go ahead.” 
While rummaging through your bag, Yunjin tells you quietly that Sunghoon’s coming though you barely have a chance to look at him before his shadow casts over the two of you, stark and vivid. With his arms crossed over his chest, Sunghoon towers over you. His red shorts cling onto his hips, so low you can see every inch of muscle definition spanning his stomach where little beads of water stare you dead in the eye. By the time you manage to look up at his face, he has a huge grin stretched over his pretty lips. “Hey, stalker,” he says.
Though his smile falters when you crease your brows, pulling your sunglasses down your nose. “Stalker?” 
“You, uh,” he pauses to sniff, less sure of himself than earlier. “I saw that you followed me on Instagram last night.” 
“You did? And no DM?” 
No DM, he repeats under his breath, visibly confused, and the—“Ohhhh, you wanted to talk to me?” 
“Yeah, that’s why I followed you.”
“Right.” A nod. “And no DM?” Sunghoon seems to like the way you laugh, uncrossing his arms, and puffing his chest out. “So what did you wanna talk about that just couldn’t wait until you saw me again?” 
“I wanted to catch up.”
A sceptical look crosses his face. “Really? Anything specific you wanted to talk about?” 
“Not really. I just think you’re interesting.”
“Me? Interesting?” The mixture of amusement and surprise on his face makes you laugh. 
“Yes, you, interesting.” A saccharine smile spreads across your lips as you swing your legs over the side of your chair. Sunghoon apologises when your ankle grazes his calf. “Very interesting.” 
Sitting like this, your face is so close to his hips you can see the loose thread at the top of his shorts. He seems to notice, taking a step back. Down the bridge of his nose, he watches you through squinted eyes, furrowing his brow and letting a beat pass. “How so?” 
“There’s a lot of reasons, but, for one, you’re the only figure skater I know.”
So quickly you barely see it, Sunghoon’s lips curl into a frown before he presses them together, nodding. “How’s summer treating you?” He changes the subject. 
You let him. “Pretty good,” you say, bringing a hand up to the tied strap of your swimsuit to pull it to the side. “And I’m tanning pretty well, right, Sunghoon?” 
A massive cloud glides across the sky, casting a welcome shadow over the scorching sun. The transition is gradual but relief is immediate and even Sunghoon sighs. You push your sunglasses up to rest in your hair, taken aback, like always, by how bright it actually is outside. Even with the sun covered up, your eyes sting a little without the tint making you squint up at Sunghoon who watches you with an amused smile. 
“Is there something on my face?” you ask. 
“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just.. nice catching up with you.”
“Yeah. It is.” You return his smile, liking the way his widens. “So, how’s summer trea—” You’re cut off by the same kid as yesterday, yelling “Sunghoooooooooon!” At the top of his lungs. 
“What were you saying?” 
“Uh,” you start, distracted by the kid pointing at Sunghoon, who waves frantically when he realises he’s caught your eye. “You, uh,” you pause, using a finger to point over to the pool. “I think your friend might need you.” 
He turns to look over his shoulder, the sun shining directly on the side of his face when he does, highlighting the pretty mole on his nose that you’ve somehow never noticed. Sunghoon shakes his head and freezing water splashes onto your stomach, making you flinch. A non-committal sound comes out of his mouth as he shrugs, facing you once again. “It’s just Riki.”
Just Riki doesn’t let up. Instead, he enlists the help of a cute cat-eyed boy, clambering onto his shoulders and balancing precariously as he yells and yells at the top of his lungs. 
“Okay, yeah, I gotta,” Sunghoon sighs, using his thumb to motion towards the pool as he walks backwards away from you. He points a long index finger at you before turning around. “I’m coming back,” he says. 
With a huge splash, Riki falls from his friend’s shoulders unceremoniously, his form disappearing for a moment, replaced by a mess of bubbles and long frantic limbs until he resurfaces. 
“I’m not here to play, I’m here to work!” Sunghoon calls out, walking right off the coping and into the water, swimming towards his friends anyway. 
He doesn’t come back. 
That night you stay at Chaewon’s, rifling through old teen magazines and taking quizzes to determine who your ‘celeb bezzie’ is. Answering mostly C’s, the two of you squeal at the prospect of a friendship with Lindsay Lohan. 
Jaehyun’s complaining when you reach the pool and you figure Yunjin and Kazuha must be nearby. Your hunch is correct when you round the corner by the water slide and see the two of them splashing each other in the small pool. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and yelling something about the literal sign that says they can’t be in there right now. The sign is a bright red fold-out thing, saying in bold white letters that the pool is closed for swimming lessons starting at 1:30 p.m. 
“It’s 1:20, you can’t be in here,” Jaehyun groans, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you guys think because we’re friends you can do what you want but the other lifeguards kicked me from the group chat and Sunghoon said it’s all your fault.” 
The mention of Sunghoon makes your ears perk up, and you decide to insert yourself. “What did they do wrong?” 
Jaehyun practically jumps at the sound of your voice next to him and Yunjin calls out for you to get in! “Don’t you dare,” Jaehyun mutters, cutting his eyes. “Whatever it is was bad enough for Mark, Yeri, and Chaeyoung to decide I’m not worthy of LIFESAVERS 2.0 swimming guy emoji, ring float emoji.” 
“If you got kicked because of them, I don’t see why Sunghoon gets to stay.” You tilt your head, stepping back a little when you feel a splash hitting your feet. “His one million-man friend group takes up half of the big pool every day, competing for who can laugh the loudest, and these two are pretty much doing the same thing.” 
“Yes, but Sunghoon’s friends aren’t breaking the rules.” 
“I saw Riki take an ice cream cone from a kid yesterday.”
“That’s not against the rules,” Jaehyun sighs. “And Chaeyoung thinks Sunghoon’s cute, so.” 
“She does?” you ask too quickly. 
“What do you care?” Jaehyun spares you a glance, arching his brow. He seems to undergo some kind of revelation, gasping a little and nodding his head. “So that’s why you guys are here all the time! You totally like that loser.” 
“Sunghoon’s not a loser, he’s hot.”
“Interesting thing to dispute.” 
You roll your eyes. “Do I need to worry about Chaeyoung?” you ask quietly.
“If you’re trying to hook up with Sunghoon I wouldn’t worry about her.”
You hate his response; hate that instead of really answering you, he’s just left you with even more questions. 
And you hate Chaeyoung for falling into your line of sight just as you mention her. 
She leaves the locker room, laughing about something with Yeri, and making you wonder what exactly she wants with Sunghoon. And why she suddenly feels like your competitor.
“And if I’m not?” 
Jaehyun cackles at your suggestion. “You? Not trying to hook up?” 
You can’t come up with a reason for why his words make your chest ache so you shove him with your elbow before jumping into the water with the girls. The sound of Jaehyun groaning and begging you guys to get out of the pool only dissolves the ache and puts a smile on your face.
Yunjin and Kazuha gang up on you for taking so long to join them but the water feels so cool against your skin you can’t help but enjoy it. 
The sound of what you think is Sunghoon’s voice makes you freeze in your spot. “I can’t keep defending you, man,” he sighs. 
At the sound of a whistle blowing, you raise your hands to cover your ears and all three of you whip your heads in its direction. Sunghoon stands next to Jaehyun with a whistle in his mouth, coughing around the metal when he sees you. He smiles, dropping it to rest against his chest. “Oh, hey.” 
“Hi,” you greet, swimming over to the edge of the pool and resting your arms on it, letting your chin find a home against them. Looking up, you see Jaehyun rolling his eyes before walking off in the opposite direction and Sunghoon stares down at you with a smile on his face.
“How are you?” he asks, fidgeting with the whistle like a charm on a necklace. 
“I’m good, how are you?” 
“Good, me too. Uh-your friends,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “I’m teaching lessons here, in five minutes, so I was wondering if you guys could maybe hang out in the main pool or by the slides instead?” he asks. It seems like he’s asking. “Only if you want.” 
“What if we’re here for lessons?” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, you guys must be the six-year-olds I’m teaching this afternoon, my bad for assuming.” 
You can’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if that was just something he said for the sake of saying it, but it makes you smile anyway. “You don’t do lessons for grown-ups?”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “I teach 6 to 12-year-olds, but Mark teaches adult classes on Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”
You nod, lifting yourself out of the pool, dripping water on the concrete. You’re close enough to Sunghoon to clearly see his jaw tensing, and the way his gaze shamelessly falls to your chest for more than a few seconds. 
“What if I’m interested in a one-on-one lesson?” 
Close enough to see the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He licks his lips, holding your gaze. “I guess we could work something out,” he says, clearing his throat when you rest a hand on his wrist, though he doesn’t look away from you. 
It seems like it’s just the two of you and the sun beating against your skin. And his pulse racing against your fingers. 
An excited wail grounds you, brings you back to the pool. “Sunghoonie! Sunghoonie!” You hear over his shoulder, as a tiny girl with pigtails and a huge grin comes rushing over to you. “Look, I got new goggles, look at my new goggles!” 
You take a step back and Sunghoon gasps, holding her Hello Kitty goggles in his hands, inspecting them carefully while crouching down to her level. In his absence, you see more, equally excited, kids plodding along, babbling to each other, followed by parents with small character backpacks slung over their shoulders. 
Sunghoon chats animatedly with her, nodding and gasping and saying really? at all the right times, in a way that summons butterflies. She giggles and holds her belly laughing when he holds her baby sized goggles over his head, asking if he can try them on, and you need to leave before you burst into tears at how sweet he’s being.
Yunjin and Kazuha beam at you when you look over at them, winking dramatically and giving you silent rounds of applause. Your cheeks burn at the sight, mumbling at them to come on, before turning around to walk away. 
“Hey, YN!” Sunghoon calls out, stopping you in your tracks. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a small smile on his lips. “See you later, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You nod. 
The girls have caught up to you by now, Yunjin’s eyebrows waggling suggestively as she links her fingers with yours. “Oh, he is so into you,” Kazuha whispers, wrapping a dripping arm around your shoulders. “Chaewon was right, summer really doesn’t start until you get back.”
In the main pool, you play around with the girls until you’re tired from swimming and the heat, and if it wasn’t for what Sunghoon said, you would have gone home already. You lay back in a lounge chair and close your eyes behind your sunglasses. You could probably fall asleep out here, feeling an odd comfort in the blood-curdling screams and mix of music playing from tiny bluetooth speakers all over the place. 
About five minutes later, you use your fingers to pick out a few pieces of Oreo from Yunjin’s ice cream, deciding they’ll be compensation for having to deal with the sticky dessert trickling down the cone and onto your fingers. Though in this heat, it doesn’t bother you so much.
On your trip back to your seat, you see Heeseung and Sunghoon by the locker room entrance. Standing in the shade, the two of them talk while Sunghoon lets a chunky pair of sunglasses rest on the back of his head, a sight that makes you clench your fist so hard the cone crunches under your fingers. You watch Heeseung’s face split into a grin while he throws his head back laughing, though Sunghoon presses his lips together in a straight line, clearly unimpressed. 
Yunjin jogs over to you, thanking you for the cone and complaining about how stingy Jungwoo’s being with the Oreo pieces these days but taking an appreciative lick anyway, letting her head fall back and a long hum of satisfaction buzz against her lips. “Just go over there and talk to him,” she says after a while. 
“Wow, YJ, thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.” 
She flips you off before walking away.
You don’t mean to catch his eye but he smiles when he sees you, waving when you wave. Heeseung waves too. If Sunghoon had been standing on his own you’d have no problem approaching him, but something about interrupting their conversation puts you off. Heeseung nods at you and calls out your name, inviting you to interrupt them. 
“It’s funny, we were just talking about you,” Heeseung says. You’re not sure how he wants you to respond to that, but Sunghoon looks at him with wide eyes, using his elbow to nudge his oversharing friend. “All good things, of course,” he adds on, raking a hand through his hair. 
“Who could have anything bad to say about you?” Sunghoon asks. 
Out of genuine concern, you ask if they’re okay, which only makes the two of them burst out laughing. Awkward laughter in the form of robotic ha ha has and forced applause. You’re not sure what to make of this, looking back and forth between them with a crease along your brow. High school was probably the last time you talked to Lee Heeseung, but besides the piercings and muscle definition he doesn’t seem to have changed much. 
“How have you been? How’s college?” Heeseung asks after wiping his left eye with the back of his hand. 
“I’ve been good. I saw you graduated last week, congrats!” 
He looks delighted at the mention of his own studies, missing the fact that you’re trying to avoid talking about yours. “Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Do you know what classes you’re taking this year?”
“No.” You shake your head. “You studied music, right?” 
An impossibly brighter grin spreads across his lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness as he nods. “Yeah, I majored in production actually. Best thing I ever did.”
For a while, Heeseung talks about his course though most of it goes over your head as jealousy burns in your stomach. The last three years have gone well enough for you to know that you’re more than just good at your major, so why, like him, can’t you enjoy it too? Right now, you want nothing more than for stupid Heeseung to shut up about his stupid career choices. 
Sunghoon interrupts the conversation, seeming to notice your mild irritation. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, resting a hand on your shoulder.
He doesn’t seem convinced when you nod your head belatedly, clearing your throat. You do your best to focus on the burn of his hand on your skin and not your jealousy. 
Sunghoon looks over at Heeseung, giving him a look that the older boy takes as an invitation to leave, smiling at the both of you before waving goodbye. 
“What’s the matter?” His voice is much softer now that you’re alone, so comforting that you’re tempted to fall into his chest and tell him everything that’s ever upset you.
“What makes you think something’s the matter?”
“You were staring at Heeseung like you wanted to wipe the stupid smile off his face with a bullet.”  
“Actually, I think he has quite a nice smile,” you admit.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees. “But it’s a little annoying, right? Like how everything just seems to go so well for him no matter what. Perfect guy with a perfect major, it’s a little hard not to be jealous of him when he talks like that.” 
“You don’t like what you study?” 
“It’s not my major I’m struggling with.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What about you?” 
A deep sigh rolls out of you, pulling your shoulders down. “I’m good at it so why stop, you know?” 
“Plenty of people stop things they’re good at.” The response comes quicker than you expect, in a defensive tone that makes you want to slice open his brain and take a look inside. “Sorry, I just mean if something isn’t making you happy, then it’s okay to stop. Right?” 
It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about you. “Right,” you affirm anyway. “It’s just that I only have a year left so the way I see it, I should just deal with it, graduate, and worry next summer instead. Uni sorta freaks me out is all,” you explain, shrugging in a way that you hope looks nonchalant. “I don’t like my course, and I don’t like talking about it, so let’s not talk about it.”
Sunghoon nods. “No talking about uni, got it,” he says, holding an imaginary pen and making a note of your words in the palm of his hand, with a tiny smile on his face that makes your stomach twist. “So, what do you like talking about?”
“Literally anything else.” 
“Look at us, so much in common.” There’s a hesitant look on his face, like he’s questioning his word choice but he smiles when you do, letting out a breathy laugh at the sound of a chuckle slipping out of you. 
“Hey, Sunghoon?” you ask after a beat, tilting your head and continuing when he hums. “Do you work here every day?” 
He shakes his head. “Just Monday through Thursday.”
“So, if I wanna see you, I could just come to the pool on those days?” 
“Yeah.” Even in the shade, it’s hard to miss the way his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck while stifling a smile. “Exactly.” 
“And if it’s Friday or the weekend, and I wanna see you, I could just text you?” 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” That same smile curves on his lips, gentle, happy. 
You think you’d like that too. 
Sunghoon puts his number in your phone and you send a text so he has yours too.
The sun doesn’t set until late that night, and you spend the better part of the evening in the garden with your mum, catching the last moments of the sun’s rays from a blanket in the grass. The sound of her fingers against the keyboard is like a perfect mechanical OST for the summer romance you’re halfway through. Though knowing that the countdown in your email is set to strike zero in a matter of hours makes it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on in the made up beach town you’re reading about.
After a late dinner, you click the link to watch the countdown hit zero before refreshing the page. The stark white background of the login page stings your eyes in your dark room as you wait for the results page to load with a held breath. All three of your course titles are marked with MP for merit pass. A weight falls from your shoulders only to be replaced with another. 
The family group chat doesn’t seem to share your distress. Your dad hearts the message and sends a gif of Michael Scott clapping, your mum texts back that she’s so proud of her baby, and your older brother says KNEW U COULD DO IT! You throw your phone across the room, hiding your face in your pillow to muffle a scream. 
That night, you dream of graduation. Of crossing the stage and seeing the culmination of four long years on a flimsy piece of paper. The ceremony ends and behind closed eyes, you watch yourself sign your life away to a 9-to-5 in a field you hate, the same your brother had done. Drenched in a cold sweat, the nightmare jolts you awake. 
You spend all day in your room for fear of running into your mother and having to discuss your future.
The day after that, the familiar smell of coffee hits your nose as you walk by a cafe you used to frequent in high school, drowning yourself in hot chocolate in the winter and in sweet frozen lemonades in the summertime. If it wasn’t for your plans of seeing Chaewon you might’ve picked something up for nostalgia’s sake. 
Right when you think about her, she calls you. “Bring me a coffee,” Chaewon says. 
“What?” 
“Can you get me some coffee?” 
Looking over your shoulder, you fully expect to see Chaewon standing behind you or perched in one of the bushes across the street with a pair of binoculars. Her voice rings down the phone at you, at a volume you’re sure you would be able to hear if she was watching you from somewhere. “Hello?” 
“Yes, I’ll do it,” you say, ignoring the chill that runs down your spine and hanging up.
A bell rings above your head when you open the door, the cafe greeting you warmly like it always has. You admire its familiar green walls and the organic curves of its interior, from the sweeping archways to the round tables and chairs. Back then, you must have sat in each of them. 
You think you’re going crazy when you hear Sunghoon saying thanks, and you know you’re going crazy when you actually see him leaving the counter with his fingers wrapped around a vibrant orange iced drink. He doesn’t see you, focusing on the phone in his hand and the straw in his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each sip. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards a table in the far corner, his head moving to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. He sits in the seat facing away from you, and you stare for so long that the barista has to say excuse me to get your attention. 
After apologising, you order Chaewon’s latte, giving her name over to the barista when she asks and waiting off to the side while she makes it. The whole time, you watch Sunghoon, willing him to look over at you. It doesn’t work.
Not in the way you’d been expecting, at least. Your phone vibrates against your palm.
sh: hey yn! are you doing anything nice today?
You grin at the back of his head. 
yn: seeing chaewon later :) hbu
sh: oh cool i hope you guys have fun!
sh: working later.. closing shift :/ 
When it’s ready, you collect Chaewon’s drink and approach Sunghoon’s table. He’s staring at his phone screen, where you see your conversation over his shoulder — even though it’s been five minutes since he texted you — and have to bite back a smile.
“Hey, you.” The words come out like you intended, light, pleased. 
Sunghoon jumps in his seat anyway, slamming his phone face down on the table and looking up at you. “YN,” he breathes. “Hey.” He wipes his palms on his pants. “What are you doing here?” 
“Same as you, I guess,” you grin, raising the cup in your hand. “Can I sit?” 
“Of course.” A beat passes while you take your seat and Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave you once. 
It’s been a while since you last had a vanilla latte but it’s just as sweet as you remember when you try it, the ice doing a good job at keeping you cool. You tilt your head at the boy in front of you, checking the date on your phone. “It’s Friday today.” 
“Yeah…” Sunghoon squints at you, nodding his head slowly. “Oh, it’s Friday,” he says, seeming to figure out what you were getting at despite the lack of context. “There’s a girl I normally coach on Mondays at the rink, Hyein, but she couldn’t make it this week so we moved her session to this afternoon. To be clear though, I don’t normally work on Fridays. At the rink or otherwise.”
You nod, taking another sip of Chaewon’s coffee and angling the cup so he can’t see her name written on the side of it. 
“So, if you wanted to see me, on a Friday, or over the weekend, you could still text me about that.” 
Smiling, you nod. “Good to know. Do you work Monday to Thursday at the rink as well?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
Sunlight spills through the tiled windows, warming your skin through the glass. Over his shoulder, the bell by the door rings incessantly and under the sun’s rays, flecks of amber glow in his eyes that crinkle at the corners, a dimple peeking at you as he shakes his head.
“I have my own training at 6 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then I teach kids classes on Monday and Tuesday nights, and I see Hyein on Monday mornings.”
“6 a.m.?”
“No, our sessions start at 10.”
“I mean your training, you start at 6 in the morning?” 
“Oh.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. 
“Fuck, that’s so early, I could never.” 
“I mean, that was just my training block during school. 6 to 7:45, so I’d go to the rink, back home to shower, and go to school when I could.” A beat passes before he speaks again, using his straw to stir his drink. “But that was mainly during, like, off-season. If I had competitions coming up then I’d spend entire days at the rink, or dance class, in the gym, so I missed a lot of school.” 
You nod. “I remember.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes flash with something, as his brows knit together for barely a second. He smiles. “Anyway, I did try later sessions when I started college but I was so used to my early sessions that I’d still wake up at 5 a.m. even though my classes didn’t start until the afternoon.” 
There’s a sparkle in his eyes when you ask about Hyein, and excitement in his voice while he tells you all about her. About how much potential she has, even though she doesn’t seem to realise it; about how much better she’s gotten in the year since they met and how similar she is to him at her age.
After a very slow walk with Sunghoon, you reach Chaewon’s place. It doesn’t hit you that you’re empty-handed until she opens the door and frowns at you, asking where you’ve been and what happened to her coffee.
It starts to feel like you’re running out of friends to take to the pool when, a few days later, the entire girls chat is too busy to come along, and Lee Jeno from an engineering lecture you took two years ago sits in the chair next to you, lazily flipping through an old copy of Dazed Magazine. Even if only as a last resort, Jeno makes good company seeing as you like the funny Tiktoks he shows you and the way he sneaks vodka into your slushy behind your towel. 
For a while, you pretend not to care about Sunghoon’s absence in hopes he’ll spawn from the pool’s deep end. Surprisingly, he does not. And just like that, an ugly pattern is formed: you go to the pool, wait all day for Sunghoon, and eventually, stumble back home in a daze from alcohol or sunstroke. 
It takes four and a half more, uneventful, Sunghoonless visits to the pool to leave you trying not to tear your hair out at Chaewon’s dining table. 
Kazuha serves as a good distraction though, making you quiz her on the details of Kim Yeri’s driving licence so she can come out to the club with you guys. Between the two girls looking nothing alike and Kazuha thinking a March birthday makes her a Sagittarius, you’re not hopeful. 
When she goes to the toilet, you check your phone just to be sure Sunghoon hasn’t texted in the twelve minutes since you last checked. And like before, the only messages you find are from Yeonjun asking if you’re “tryna slide” later. You aren’t, and haven’t been for the last two weeks he’d been asking. Completely unrelated to a certain blond lifeguard, of course. You sigh, thinking of Sunghoon again and why he hasn’t texted yet.
There’s nothing stopping you from sending the first text (today) — except for the fact that you’d been texting back and forth until you accidentally aired him at the start of the week. Unless you’re trying to hook up, you never send the first message. And as much as you would like to hook up with Sunghoon, there’s something about him that’s too endearing to only experience in the quiet of a backseat at 3 a.m., or in your room when no one’s home.
Four shots and a lot of egging on seem to be all you need to make your way to Sunghoon’s DMs. You let Chaewon and Kazuha debate over what your opening message should be, and with shaky thumbs, you type out something simple. Much to your friend’s (and your own) disappointment, you eventually settle on hey handsome. 
sh: hiiiiiiiiiii
For a while, you watch as Sunghoon types and stops and types and stops before his message comes through. 
sh: pretty
You can’t help the giggle that comes out, clearing your throat when Chaewon raises a brow at you. The two of you hold eye contact for a beat before erupting into a fit of laughter. 
you: i haven’t seen you at the pool in a while and i was wondering if you’re ok..
sh: yn.. have you been at my workplac e waiitng for me to show up again ???
you: are you ok.
sh: i think it’s cute that you did that, my friends tol d me they saw you there every day this week
you: why are your friends reporting my whereabouts to you..
sh: i asked them to, also im good i just took some days off
sh: back monday am i gonna see u then?
you: or we could just see each other on one of your off days?
On the left side of the screen, you watch animated ellipses dance above the keyboard before halting, though no message comes to replace them and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that the message hasn’t come through because your phone is frozen. 
Right?
You let out a laugh at your stupidity while Chaewon looks at you like you’re insane, turning off your phone and letting it sit for a bit before turning it back on. Wasting no time, you go straight to Instagram and pull up the DM thread where the word seen sits underneath your last message, laughing at you. 
Perplexed by what seems like your first rejection ever, you’re not quite sure how to move on so you send a text to the group chat (mainly for Yunjin, the only one who isn’t present). Yunjin replies with a message suggesting Sunghoon’s phone died. In the chair opposite, Chaewon suggests maybe he died. Jaehyun brings you more shots to cope with your heartache and you clutch your stomach laughing when he squirts lime juice into his eye.
Because your friends don’t respect you, you end up in the middle seat when the Uber arrives; sandwiched between Chaewon and Kazuha, drinking as much vodka as you can stomach from the younger girl’s flask while she mutters March 5th, Taurus over and over again. 
All that hard work was done in vain, though; when you reach the club Kazuha insists on being the first to go up in line, and tears start streaming when the bouncer asks what part of Seoul she was born in. Yeri’s ID gets confiscated and the four of you pile into another Uber and head to your backup plan, which you only learn about when the car pulls up.
Living in another city for uni means you’ve never partied with Sunghoon’s friends before — beyond walking by each other in a club — and some combination of excitement and alcohol makes your stomach heat up as you think about seeing him again.
Nishimura Riki’s family home is a giant structure that takes up more room than what’s probably necessary. There’s a massive fountain in the middle of the driveway shooting a stream, out of the mouth of what you think is a lion, into its main bed of water. The grand front door has banners criss-crossed over it saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM SUNOO! Before you reach it, the door swings open and Jay’s jaw is even sharper than you remember when you see him so close. He grins at you and your friends, whooping obnoxiously at the sight of Jaehyun, dapping him up before waving awkwardly at you, Chaewon and Kazuha. You watch him lean over to Jaehyun and ask if that chick’s okay, while not so subtly pointing at the youngest of you all. 
When you look at her, black streaks of mascara tear through her blush like a knife though she wears a bright smile as she eyes Jay like a predator. You nudge her in the ribs and make a mental note to find a bathroom to help her fix her makeup. She frowns when you take her hand and enter the house, leaving Chaewon with Jaehyun and Jay, the three of which chat easily with one another.
Upstairs in the main bathroom, you kneel on the floor between Kazuha’s legs, gently running a makeup wipe over her face while she sits on the lid of the toilet babbling about Jay. “He’s the one,” she says determinedly. “I mean, he was worried about me.. he barely knows me and he was asking if I was okay. Like, how did he know I’d been upset?” You wonder if Kazuha has seen her face in the last half hour. Or if she knows why you insisted on taking her makeup off. 
“Right,” you nod, knowing it’s easier to agree with a drunk Kazuha than face an argument.
“It’s a feeling. Like, sometimes you just have to look through the eyes of your soul, and everything will work out.”
It’s amazing to you that she can say the things she says without laughing. But there’s a finality in her tone that makes you hope she’s right. 
With Kazuha all cleaned up, you’re able to focus on how crammed the house actually is. There are people in every room of the house, sitting on the porch, in the backyard. People are everywhere and you’re not sure you’ll ever manage to reunite with your friends. In favour of getting to know Jay, Kazuha presses a kiss to your cheek and runs off in the opposite direction. You head for the kitchen knowing that Chaewon will most likely be in there somewhere, batting her lashes at a tall graduate in hopes to score a free smoke. 
People are grinding and hanging off one another in the hall and the living room, making out by the stairs, and in what looks like the only empty spot in the kitchen Sunghoon leans against the counter, taking generous gulps from something in a red cup. Judging by his smart trousers and pretty black cardigan, Sunghoon has also developed a personal style in the time since you’ve last been home. A dent forms in Sunghoon’s cheek when he sees you, a sweet crinkle in his eyes as he says hi! 
You can’t figure out whether you should hug him or not but he looks so sweet with his wide smile and flushed cheeks that your arms widen of their own accord. His embrace is gentle, wrapping you up in a mixture of toned arms, soft cotton, liquor, and something light, floral, you think. 
“Can I fix you something to drink?” Sunghoon asks quietly, you only just hear him before he lets you go. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, reaching over the counter to grab a cup for you. 
“Yeah, I didn’t either.” 
“I was your backup plan?” 
“Oh, come on.” You nudge his shoulder with your hand as he screws the cap back on a bottle of lemonade. “I wouldn’t use those words. If I’d known about the party you would’ve been the plan.” 
“I thought you wouldn’t use those words.”
“You’re using those words,” you say, grinning when he laughs. 
You both go back and forth on it for a while, as Sunghoon tries to find Malibu in the mess of bottles cluttering the countertop. A wide grin spreads across his face when he does and you watch him fill the empty space in your cup before handing it to you. 
The first sip is syrupy sweet on your tongue, forcing an appreciative hum out of you. “So good,” you say through a dreamy sigh, shaking your head before taking another gulp. 
From his nose, he lets out a breathy laugh, his lips quirking up at the corners as he watches you. “It’s good to know my bartending classes are paying off.” 
“Have you ever considered a recipe book?” you ask, putting the cup down next to your phone, looking up at Sunghoon who seems to seriously consider this for a while before nodding. 
Almost experimentally, he rests his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he tells you, holding you a little closer when he sees that you’re okay with it. 
You tilt your head at him, pretending not to remember the way he’d left you on read. “What happened earlier?” 
“On.. iMessage,” he starts, trailing off at the end though he continues when you nod. “I’m not good at talking to pretty girls.”
Despite not fully believing him, there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your stomach flutter. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at talking to pretty boys.” 
You can’t tell if he’s flustered or drunk, but his cheeks redden after you speak. 
“Pretty boys, me?” 
“Who else?” 
Sunghoon’s laugh comes out in ha ha ha’s, and if you couldn’t see the way his eyes crinkled up you might have thought he was faking it.
For a moment, his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he speaks. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not interested or anything.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for the cramped space where Me and Your Mama bounces off the walls and rowdy kids constantly bump into you. 
With his hand still burning through your dress, he nudges you, turning you both around to take your place. Your ass rests against the edge of the countertop and the drunk students bump into him instead. “I’m just.. still figuring out how to stop being so shy all the time,” he says, using his thumb to lift the fallen strap of your dress.
You’re having a tough time believing him. If this is what being so shy looks like for Sunghoon, you’re terrified to see him being confident. 
The heat of his lingering hand against your bare shoulder only leaves you drawing a blank. Part of you feels silly for saying that you’re very good at talking to pretty boys. You’re way out of your depth right now.
“But you,” he trails off, looking between your eyes and lips again. His hand starts to tremble against your waist. “You make it so hard.” 
“I do?” you ask dumbly, at a complete loss for words, trying not to read too much into his word choice. Why, anyone could say that word, hard, and not mean anything by it, it’s a word after all. An adjective, you think. 
Get out of your head. 
“Mm,” Sunghoon nods solemnly. “You have no idea.”
Three people nudge past you, each one shoving into him harder than the last; he looks thankful when you suggest going outside. His fingers brush against yours before he pulls them away, turning around to head for the garden immediately. 
The smell of smoke spikes through the fresh air, strong enough to make your head swim as Sunghoon closes the back door behind you. “Wow,” you whisper, looking around. It’s like stepping into a whole new party, with slow R&B pumping out into the summer heat. The garden spills out way beyond what your eyes can see, glowing with twinkling fairy lights and excited chatter.
“I know, right.” 
There’s a two step staircase in the centre that you follow Sunghoon up, mumbling an apology to the couple whose makeout sesh you had to break up to do so. Both of your footsteps crunch against the stone path that splits the grass, and — at Sunghoon’s request — you tell him everything that led you to this party tonight. Leaving out all of the overthinking that went into the text you eventually sent him of course.
“Wait, how old is Kazuha?” 
“21, she’s just waiting on her new ID coming in the mail.” 
“What happened to her old one?” 
“I think she’s like.. 13 or something in her old photo, and we didn’t get in last week either ‘cause the bouncer didn’t think it was her,” you pause. “Or she just looked too young in the photo. I’m not sure.”
You can hear Sunghoon humming along to the SZA song that’s playing, tilting his head at your words. His brows knit together for a beat, and he has to grab you by the forearm to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, as he maintains his grip on you. “Thanks,” you say through a breath, trying to focus on anything other than his touch. 
“Let’s sit, yeah?” 
Sunghoon rests his arm around your shoulders when you nod, keeping you upright as you walk slowly towards the back of the garden. “I don’t know where you guys go out, but one time, we put Riki in a dress and gave him Hwang Yeji’s ID.”
“And then stayed home?” The mental image makes you cackle, getting funnier with each second you dwell on it, but your breath catches in your throat when you look up at him, shaking his head as best as he can while laughing. The way his head falls back, showing off the column of his neck and angle of his jaw forces you to screw your eyes shut to stop the thoughts of kissing him there. 
“And then took him to the club with us and got him to buy our first round.”
With each thing he shares about that night, it grows more and more unbelievable, leaving your jaw on the floor as he leads you around a timber shed (that houses a hot tub) to a big swingy chair thing. “I’ll find the photos in a sec,” he smiles. “Let me hold your cup while you sit.” 
The spot provides about as much privacy as you figure a packed house party could afford. Not that you need privacy to be endeared by Sunghoon or anything. You take him up on his offer, sitting down and watching as he ignores the phone ringing in his pocket, handing you back your drink. Even though you’re not thrilled about the interruption, you tell him he should at least check who it is. 
“Jungwon?” He flinches, yanking the phone away from his ear. Jungwon’s voice is so loud you can hear him despite the distance. “Yeah I got it, I’m at the swing outside.” The call ends there and Sunghoon still doesn’t sit down and neither of you speaks. 
Blinking fairy lights are strung neatly around the swing’s frame. Only a few of the bulbs are working, but together they produce enough light for you to see the sun-bleached blue of the cushion you’re sitting on, and the way Sunghoon’s looking straight at you. You smile. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while, completely spaced out, until a broad-shouldered child arrives. 
Sunghoon daps him up and your brows raise when he pulls a short, flat bottle of vodka from his back pocket to give to Jungwon. “How much do I owe you?” he asks, taking the bottle. 
“For the drink or for the lifelong tab you and Riki have been racking up?” 
Chuckling, Jungwon shakes his head and points his thumb at Sunghoon. “Don’t you just love that sense of humour?”
The two boys share a look, and Jungwon nods in understanding. He affectionately pats Sunghoon’s bicep, face lighting up in awe. “Wow!” he gasps, turning to glance at you. “Have you felt the muscles on this guy? I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” With wide eyes, he nudges Sunghoon in your direction. 
Despite his apparent indifference towards Jungwon’s attempts at hyping him up, Sunghoon comes closer to you, letting you feel his arm anyway. He flexes his bicep — all firm, sculpted muscle through his soft cardigan — under your fingers in a way that spreads fire in your stomach. Unintentionally, you catch his gaze and your breath gets stuck in your throat. A quiet laugh slips from his lips as he puts his arm down. 
It’s hard not to think about what Jungwon had said about growing up, and even harder not to study him to figure out his age. His outfit is similar to Sunghoon’s; loose pants and a knitted cardigan which does nothing to help you make an estimate. Not being able to buy his own booze tells you that he’s not your age, his wide eyes and round cheeks only make him seem like a child, but his height and broad shoulders throw you off.
“How old are you?” you ask, giving in to your curiosity. 
“21,” he says, too quickly. “.. in two years.” 
He lingers for a bit to hype Sunghoon up some more; not so subtly bringing up his great qualities, like his considerate nature and unwavering dedication. Though Sunghoon’s “never ending” patience wears out and he asks him to leave. With a nod, Jungwon waves goodbye before sprinting back towards the house. Sunghoon laughs watching his friend and sinks into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours for a beat before he closes his legs and rests his arms over the back of the chair.
“Wow,” you grin, leaning into his side. “Figure skating legend Park Sunghoon buys alcohol for kids.” 
He shrugs. “I’m not a legend.” 
You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. “That’s the part you’re disputing?”
“Well, the other part is true,” he says, chuckling though unable to hide the flash of discomfort in his eyes. “If you consider a 19-year-old a kid.” 
“You’re way too humble.”
“Anyone could be good with the right coach, and I have, like, the most supportive parents ever so they help me a lot.”  
“Well, yeah, probably, but even then, your parents aren’t the ones skating, you are,” you point out. 
Sunghoon deflates, sighing heavily. “Can we talk about something else?” He takes a sip from his cup in a silent plea for you to drop it. When his eyes meet yours, his lips press into a flat smile and the soft lighting brings out the dimple in his cheek. 
You nod, using your hand to push his hair away from his forehead. The flat smile spreads across his face as you play with his light hair, that’s somehow silky smooth under your fingers despite the bleach. It’s a little messy when you move your hand, sitting over his thick brows in a way that, when paired with his boyish grin, makes him look younger. 
A dull thump startles both of you as a couple jog away from the shed with linked hands and no regard for you or Sunghoon. Neither of you bother trying to hide your amusement when you meet each other’s eyes, laughing hard enough to make the swing sway. 
“I’m sorry,” you say after calming down — maybe too late. 
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be.”
The smile on his face is soft, sincere, but does nothing for the guilt you feel over stressing him out — your lips tug into a frown.
“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers and his forehead is warm against yours when he nudges you, grinning at the way you giggle when he pulls away. “I’m not upset or anything.” he pauses. “I don’t think I’m upset or anything, I’m just tired, you know. I spend a lot of time talking about skating during the day and there’s, like, a million and one other things I’d rather talk about right now.”
His honesty assuages your guilt and piques your curiosity. “Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow. Sunghoon nods. “Other things like..” 
He hesitates, caught off by the suggestiveness in your tone, by the way your hand grazes his knee before resting low on his thigh. A gulp echoes in his throat. “Uh, like..” His voice trails off. 
There’s a flutter in your chest as a smile tugs at your lips. “Why don’t we start with those pictures of Riki at the club?” 
“Riki at the club,” he repeats, nodding his head. “I can do that.” 
Sunghoon’s arm falls around your shoulders when you nestle into him, close enough now that his scent hits you effortlessly. A tiny square in his camera roll expands under his thumb, showing you Riki in a tight black halter dress with his hair grown out and styled in neat curls. There’s a boxy grin spread across his lips while he holds Yeji’s ID next to his face. In the next picture, he crouches between Shin Ryujin and Lee Chaeryeong while the three of them make kissy faces for the camera. “And then he had two shots of Fireball and passed out in a booth so we had to carry him home.” 
A laugh bubbles in your throat at the sight of Riki hunched over in a booth with his head on the table, and tears start to spill when you watch the video of Heeseung stumbling down the street, accidentally letting Riki slip off his back and onto the concrete. 
Out of nowhere, Sunghoon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head; an expression you’ve only seen on Kazuha whenever she suspects she left her flat iron on at home. Dread settles in your stomach as you brace yourself for what he might say next. “Just give me a minute,” he says, his words holding an urgency that only fuels your nerves. “I need to text someone.” 
Sunghoon thinking about talking to someone else while you’re trying to get to know him isn’t your favourite thing. In fact, it feels worse than what you imagine might happen if Kazuha actually does leave her flat iron on one day — because it shuts off automatically after 15 minutes.
You try hiding your disappointment but you can feel your lips drooping at the corners as he angles his phone away from you, deep in thought about this message he so urgently has to send. Whatever, you think. Couldn’t care less.
At long last, he finishes typing and pulls air through his teeth before putting his phone back in his pocket, drumming his nails against the seat until your phone goes off in your lap. In a fit of Kazuha-inspired absurdity, you want Sunghoon to feel bad about his lack of manners, so you ignore the notification despite your burning curiosity.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asks, his gaze fixed on you expectantly. 
You shake your head. “It can wait.” 
A frown creases Sunghoon’s brow and you hate it; checking your phone immediately to find two texts from the boy sitting next to you.
sh: hey yn! sorry i took so long
sh: if it’s not too late do u wNt to go on a date with me next saturday?
After six days of exchanging Spotify links with Sunghoon over text, Saturday rolls around, and the doorbell chimes earlier than you’d been expecting it to. You call out that you’ll get the door, grab your bag and bolt down the stairs. With a hand on the door handle, you catch your breath, an act that seems pointless when you see Sunghoon through the glass. The door creaks open and his neck snaps in your direction, jaw falling to the floor. 
He waves. 
Your greeting is followed only by silence, your Hey, Sunghoon, dissipating into the sticky summer heat as he chews on his cheek, letting his eyes scan your body over and over. If he didn’t look so nervous you might have offered to pose for a picture. “How are you?” you ask, locking the door behind you and double-checking that you did lock it before tossing your keys into your purse. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. “And I love your dress,” he adds. “Very pretty.”
“Yeah?”
Sunghoon nods and suddenly, your group FaceTime call with Chaewon, Minjeong, and Yunjin feels like two hours well spent. 
While you tried on every summer outfit in your wardrobe for them to judge, Minjeong gave enthusiastic reactions to Sunghoon’s tagged photos, or, rather, to Mark in Sunghoon’s tagged photos but even she was struck by the outfit you settled on. The pretty floral dress that sits at the middle of your thighs that Sunghoon can’t seem to look away from. Hopefully, you’ll remember to thank them appropriately. 
You follow him to his car where he opens the passenger door for you. Struck by the fact that this is the first time anyone’s done that for you, and the sound of his hand rattling against the metal, you sit down, beaming up at him as he closes the door. Sunghoon’s car is neat, and tidy, and smells pleasantly of the new car scent Little Tree that hangs, completely still, from his rearview mirror. Through the clean windscreen, you watch him walk around the front of the car with pursed lips. 
“You like ice cream, right?” he asks when he sits down, looking over at you nervously. 
“Who doesn’t like ice cream?” 
Sunghoon takes you to a little old diner themed ice cream spot with checkerboard floors and a handful of plush vinyl booths. Some of the walls have cursive LED signs that you can’t quite make out and a great big jukebox in the back corner plays What Makes You Beautiful. 
It doesn’t surprise you that Sunghoon is quiet when it’s just you guys, but you can tell that he’s trying his best. He listens attentively to everything you have to say, nodding his head and asking thoughtful questions at all the right times; he makes you laugh more than you ever have. He practically lights up when you bring up his friends. 
“Your friends are so cute,” you say with a smile, thinking of the change Riki had given Yunjin to buy those slushys the other day. 
“If you knew my friends you wouldn’t think that,” Sunghoon says, a fond smile that goes against his words spreading on his face at the mention of them. “Except Jake,” he corrects. “Jake is so cute, yes.” 
“I don’t think I know which one he is,” you admit. “I know Heeseung, I know Jay, Jungwon, and Riki..” you trail off, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
“Jake is the cute one,” he frowns. “You’ll know him when I show you.” Sunghoon takes his phone from his pocket, scrolling for a while. “I’m sorry, I can’t find a normal photo of all seven of us.” 
“Just show me whatever,” you say, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his bottom lip.
Without thinking, you reach over the table, using your thumb to wipe it away. Sunghoon’s cheeks immediately flush with pink and he gulps watching you suck the ice cream from the pad of your finger.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy, while turning his phone towards you to show the most absurdly staged photograph you think you’ve ever seen. “So, uh, Jake is.. he’s the one holding Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo’s posing in front of Jay.” Sunghoon hands you his phone when he’s done talking.
You use the opportunity to examine the picture. 
Jake (so cute) really does hold Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo (also so cute) shows the camera his pretty side profile and a thumbs up. Some other things stick out to you in the photo, a laugh making its way out of you as you notice that Jungwon isn’t there but Jay holds up a printed picture of him in his right hand. Riki sits between Jay and Jake, wearing a concerned expression about something going on off-camera. Sunghoon is in the back, holding what looks like a yoga pose on the back of the couch they’re sitting on. 
Happily, you let Sunghoon tell you more about his friends until the sun starts to set and the backs of your thighs stick to the vinyl seat. Not quite ready to say goodbye, you ask Sunghoon if you can go on a walk together. He seems into the idea, nodding his head and smiling down at you. 
Walking aimlessly, the two of you maintain a neutral silence (not uncomfortable, not particularly comfortable either, just quiet), and pretend not to notice the way the backs of your hands touch, each bump longer than the last though amounting to nothing. 
It’s not until comforted by the smell of chemically treated water that you realise how close to the pool you are. You follow Sunghoon around a corner and see the locked gates, wondering if he’d brought you this way on purpose or just out of habit. 
“Wish it was open,” you say off-handedly, not really meaning anything by it. Like telling the person you sit beside on the first day of class that you’re so tired even though you had the best night of sleep in your life. 
Sunghoon isn’t beside you when you look over at him, he’s a few paces behind you, standing by the gates. A mischievous smile spreads on his lips as he holds his keys in his hand, dangling them. “It could be.” 
“Are we allowed to do this?” you ask nervously, watching Sunghoon twist his key in the lock. 
“Allowed to?” he repeats, tilting his head as though the concept is foreign to him. “No, I don’t think so.” A satisfying click sounds as the lock comes undone and Sunghoon pushes the gate open with a huge grin on his face as he gestures for you to go inside first. “After you.” 
He follows you in, shutting the gate behind him and holding out a hand for you to take; you lock your fingers with his and decide that you never want to let go. Not even after a thin layer of sweat forms between your palms. 
The space seems so large when it’s empty like this, with the parasols closed and the lack of screaming children. Streetlights cover the area in a dim orange haze, turning it into a fuzzy dreamscape. The pool itself seems so small when you see it covered up, nothing like the ocean-wide abyss you remember it being when you were young, racing with Chaewon, or pretending like you were only playing around when you tried to drown Jaehyun. 
“Do you wanna get in?” Sunghoon asks, his soft voice interrupting your thoughts. 
You don’t hesitate to nod. 
One night a week, the pool stays open until after dark, but you’ve never been. So when the mechanised pool cover whirs open after Sunghoon flips the switch, you’re shocked by the lights that illuminate the still water. It makes sense that the pool would have some form of lighting for safety, but you hadn’t expected the yellowing fixtures set in the tiled walls to shine so beautifully.
“Come on,” he says, taking you by the hand again, approaching the water. 
A part of you wants to protest when he lets go, but the words catch in your throat as he pulls his shirt over his head. Having spent the better part of most summers poolside, the sight of shirtless Sunghoon isn’t a new one though you find yourself breathless all the same. It’s different tonight but he doesn’t seem to notice. 
Worried you’ll break the spell, you can’t bring yourself to speak. Worried you’ll open your mouth and the moment might slip out from under you. These worries, however, are no match for Sunghoon’s slim waist which leaves your mouth forming an O at the sight. 
“Wow,” you whisper, awestruck. 
Sunghoon laughs, nervously, running a hand through his hair and using the other to hold his shirt over his stomach. “Don’t do that,” he says under his breath. He drops the shirt. The rest of his clothes follow, quickly leaving him in only his tight-fitting black boxer briefs that you struggle to look away from. 
An odd feeling starts to creep in, causing a fire in your belly — obviously from the sweet cider you had earlier, nothing at all to do with Sunghoon. Or his sculpted torso. Or his face, with his soft smile, and sparkling eyes. No one’s ever looked at you like this before.
“What are you thinking about?” 
Those shoulders. Those lips. Kissing those lips. You gulp. “Nothing.” 
Even though he doesn’t look like he believes you, he doesn’t press you on it. Instead, he smiles. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards the pool’s edge to dip a pointed toe into the water. You like the way he hums, nodding his head as if it’s just to his liking. 
“Feels good?”
“Perfect,” he grins, stepping into the pool. 
A splash makes the water ripple around him — you’ve never noticed it’s so clear, you can see everything. From the mosaic-like blue tiles on the pool floor and walls to the way Sunghoon’s hair moves around his head. It’s a dazzling blue, shifting brilliantly through the whole spectrum under light from the moon, the pool, and the lampposts. 
Considering the way you’re sweating in the sticky heat, the water even looks refreshing, so you’re not sure why you don’t move to pull your dress off; or why you can’t shake your nerves. Sunghoon’s seen you in skin-tight dresses, and skimpy bikinis, so you’re not sure why the thought of him seeing you in your underwear is spooking you so much. It could be your lack of a bra. But even then, Sunghoon isn’t going to be the first person to see your bare breasts.
Interrupting your thoughts, he bobs to the surface with closed eyes and straight lips; his dimple shows. Pushing hair from his forehead, he asks if you’re going to join him though he seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take anything off,” he tells you gently. “Except maybe your shoes and socks.” 
You nod, stepping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off almost robotically. 
“It’s okay,” he smiles, comforting, reassuring, as he swims up to the edge of the pool and extends his wet hand to you. “I got you.”
You tell yourself to get out of your head, looking into Sunghoon’s sparkling eyes and feeling at ease from the way he looks up at you like you’re God’s gift. When you reach for the bottom of your dress, he gulps, his arm falling limply against the coping. You turn away from him to pull the light fabric over your head, letting it fall in a heap next to your shoes, and Sunghoon’s looking in the other direction when you turn back around. Even with the ‘privacy’ he’s afforded you by looking away, you can’t help but use your arms to cover your chest as you make your way over to the pool, sitting down on the edge and slipping into the water. 
It is refreshing. The water is the perfect temperature as it envelops you, soothes you.
Just more than an arm’s length away, Sunghoon’s form is broad. His shoulders are so wide and his back so toned that your head starts to swim. His skin, sunkissed, glowing, is dotted with pretty moles that you’ve never noticed before but can’t look away from — suddenly feeling as though you could point to each one with your eyes closed. 
With an odd half step, you reach him, letting your arms fall around his waist and pressing your chest to his back. You don’t know why you do that.
He draws a sharp breath. “Hi,” he whispers after a beat. 
“Hi.” 
A quiet falls between you until Sunghoon mumbles, over there, while pointing towards the deep end of the pool. You swim poorly behind him and he only stops when you call out his name. Sunghoon breaks out into laughter when he sees you. For him, who’s well into the deep end, the, now still, water might tease his chin if disrupted. For you, almost 2 metres behind, the water tickles your nose even when you stand on your tiptoes.
“Whoa,” he whispers. 
You tilt your head back to speak. “What?” 
“You’re just..” He pauses to gulp. “So short.”  
Offended, you scoff. “I’m the tallest out of all my friends,” you say defensively. And untruthfully — hoping he’s never seen you standing next to Yunjin.
“Are you friends with the Lakers?”
You drift away from him, laughing as well, until the water just about reaches your armpits. He follows you. As more of his body breaches the surface, water slips from his chest, droplets and streaks glowing under the white light of the moon, completely breathtaking.
“I was so nervous about today,” he says, pushing some water towards you, his lighthearted tone gone. 
“Oh?” You pause, continuing when he nods, and push water back in his direction. “How do you feel now?” 
Sunghoon’s pouty lips jerk up the corners, playful, boyish. A soft laugh slips from the space between his teeth. “I’m absolutely terrified.” His honesty draws you to him, and has you actually drifting closer in the water.
“What’s scaring you?” 
His breath seems to catch in his throat. He tilts his head while eyeing you. “Are you asking because you really don’t know?” If you’d still been splashing each other you doubt you’d have heard him talking over the water.
“Does it matter?”
Sunghoon seems to consider this for a moment, to consider you. Despite sitting just high enough to cover your breasts, the water doesn’t do very much to conceal them and his eyes get stuck on your chest for more than a little while. He clears his throat, looking back up at your face. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hands and smacks the surface of the water between you with open palms. A big splash hits you in the face. 
It’s on, you think, doing the same thing to him with all the force you can muster and laugh at the yelp he lets out. Something of a splash fight ensues, both of you doing everything you can to create a bigger mess of water to attack the other with. 
The rain starts so subtly that you don’t even notice it at first. You’re both too busy laughing and trying to splash the other harder to think about anything else. Only when you stop to catch your breath, to rest your aching arms, do you catch the faint ripples skating across the pool’s surface. Sunghoon doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand. And the rain gets heavy fast.
“Sunghoon, it’s raining, stop!” you call out, turning your face away from him. His raucous laughter makes your stomach flutter as you grab his wrist. “Come on, we’re gonna get wet, we have to go!” 
When you look back over at him, his smile is so wide, so sweet that you almost feel faint. Sunghoon doesn’t stop laughing, the sound is so contagious you can’t help but join in. His arms fall around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do while he cackles in front of you, you let your hands rest on his firm triceps. 
Large droplets start hitting your lashes, clinging to them, obscuring your vision, so you bring a hand up to act like an awning above your eyes. He calls you so cute under his breath though his laughter doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon. 
“Hoon, come on. What’s so funny?”
The rain is cold against your shoulders but the boy in front of you doesn’t seem to share your concerns about the sudden downpour. You lock eyes with him, and his laughter seems to get caught in his throat. He’s still smiling but seems nervous, as though he’s only now become aware that he’s holding you so close that your naked chest is pressed against his. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. His smile returns, as a breathy laugh makes its way from his nose. He lets his face come down towards yours, slow, cautious, and too desperate to wait, you meet his lips halfway; they’re every bit as soft as you’d imagined. 
As if relieved, Sunghoon’s shoulders sag and his body seems to melt into your own. Desperation, hunger hits you from all angles, lighting up your insides and leaving your skin burning under his touch. Unthinkingly, you link your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close, almost whimpering when his tongue grazes yours.
Sunghoon tastes light and sugary, like the perfect combination of artificial strawberry and sweet coffee as his tongue moves against yours. From your mouth into his slips a dreamy sigh, while he holds onto you gently, like you’re the most delicate thing in the world; like he’s the most delicate thing. Why haven’t you been kissed like this before? So slowly, so softly, as if he means it. As if he’s kissing you for no reason other than simply wanting to kiss you. 
Only when he pulls away to catch his breath do you regain your senses and notice how much heavier the rain has become. But your brain short circuits at the sight of him. His breathing is ragged, his chest rises and falls against yours. Water darkened hair clings to his forehead, letting beads slip from its ends to his cheekbone before slipping down the column of his neck.
Shelter is the only word you manage to say and all you can do is hope that he’s able to work out the rest. Like something from the purest depths of your imagination, Sunghoon’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a wide smile. A giggle, the softest thing you’ve ever come across, slips from his mouth while his fingers squeeze at your hips. 
“YN,” he says, breathless. “We’re in the pool.”
Dripping water onto the concrete under your feet, you and Sunghoon walk at snail’s pace from his car to your front door, with your linked hands swinging between your bodies. 
The porch light diffuses dramatically over Sunghoon’s features, and somehow, even under the stark lighting, he’s still beautiful. His wet hair drips water onto his shoulders, darkening his shirt in abstract splashes around the neckline. A grin splits across his lips when he locks eyes with you, his face scrunching up and his shoulders racking up and down as he laughs to himself. 
It’s impossible not to join in. “What’s so funny?” 
He only shrugs in response, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just.. happy,” he says eventually, a tinge of uncertainty hanging from his words. 
With shaking hands, Sunghoon grabs you by the waist and holds you close, leaning down to kiss you. As your lips move with his, the only thing you can think about is how badly you want to feel this moment forever. To feel the tremble in sweet Sunghoon’s hands as he holds onto you gently, to feel his soft hair under your fingertips, and his hard chest pressed against your body. To feel his lips curving into a smile, his forehead resting on yours as his breath fans your lips. “Are you happy too?” he asks. 
You think you’ll die if you ever forget the way it feels to like Park Sunghoon.
“Yes. Very.” 
Through the peephole in your front door, you watch as Sunghoon stands outside, bringing a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the spot where you’re certain your lip gloss lingers. You suppress a giggle with your hand and run up the stairs to your room where you bury your face in your pillow to muffle a squeal. You can’t remember the last time you felt so giddy over something that was happening in your own life rather than something sweet you’d read in a book or heard about from a friend.
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With Chaewon’s hand in yours, and butterflies in your stomach, you make your way to the community pool for the first time in about a week. Like always, you find Sunghoon’s friends wreaking havoc in the water until.. something happens. By the time it occurs, you’ve been laying poolside for about an hour, trying to convince your best friend that you liking a guy isn’t going to do anything to your friendship. 
“You’re not supposed to like that guy,” Chaewon whines like a child, playing with the frayed hem of her shorts. “You’re only supposed to like me!” A sigh passes from her lips as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. “And Yunjin!” she adds after too long. 
“What about the rest of our friends?” 
“And Kazuha, and Minjeong, and Jaehyun, an—” 
“Jaehyun’s a guy.” 
She seems a little thrown off by your interruption, pursing her lips before speaking. “Well, yeah, but.. he’s one of our guys. A Chaewon-approved guy.” 
Suddenly, the noise level reduces by at least half and you can’t help but feel alarmed, whipping your head in the direction of the pool. A quick scan tells you that nothing bad has happened, allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s friends huddled together and quickly realise that the space has only gotten so quiet because they’re chatting at a normal volume. Huh, you think, it almost sounds like the speakers are quite good. Heeseung and Jay get out of the water, sitting up on the pool’s edge while the other four boys all stand in place, all six of them fix their eyes on something in front of them but you don’t care enough to investigate further. 
You look back at Chaewon as a pout settles on your lips. “Why can’t Chaewon approve of my guy?”
“When you say that Sunghoon is your guy, do you mean it in the same way that Yeonjun is your guy?” she asks, her tone scathing but her face concerned. “Or, the way that Asahi is your guy, or, even Yoshi?” 
“No. This is different. Sunghoon is different.” 
You know how trite and naive you must sound, but he is different. You’d never dated a guy who’d pick you up right at your front door; Yeonjun and Yoshi typically sent DMs to let you know they’d parked out front, and Asahi did nothing but honk the car horn because he found it funny. Though to call what you were doing with those guys ‘dating’ would be a huge overstatement. There was Renjun from first year who was nice enough but never wanted to hang out, and Donghyuck who made you laugh but never complimented you. 
Chaewon crinkles her nose, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I really hope you’re right.”
And now there’s Sunghoon. Sunghoon who tells you that he can’t wait to see you again; who always tells you how pretty you look; who blushes when you hold his hand, who touches his cheek when you kiss it. You can’t imagine him doing anything bad to anyone. Sunghoon is different, and you hope you can be different this time too. In all the time you spend thinking, your guy shows up with a shy smile on his face with both of his hands behind his back. 
It’s your first time seeing him in person since your date and the sun glows against his skin, his wet hair tickling his thick brows as he stands at the foot of your chairs, watching Chaewon nervously. “Hi, Chaewon,” he says after a while.
“Hello!” She grins, seeming so bright and happy that you find it hard to reconcile this Chaewon with the one who’d been clutching her chest and sliding down the walls over the fact you have a crush on the boy she’s now being so pleasant to. 
“I got this,” Sunghoon says, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a strawberry-flavoured slushy. “For you.” He adds on, holding the drink out to your friend. While Chaewon gushes about how much she likes the mix of berries that make up her favourite flavour, Sunghoon hums and nods along while making his way to the other side of your chair. He wears a wider, more confident smile on his face while he stands over you. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” he says quietly, bringing his other hand out to give you the blue raspberry slushy he’s been holding. With his foot, Sunghoon drags a spare lounger from behind him next to yours before moving out of the way and using his hands to push it some more, making the armrest touch yours. “Hey,” he smiles, taking a seat. 
You take a grateful sip of your drink, surprised at how much better it tastes coming from him. “Thank you, Hoon.” You can’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, liking the way your stomach flutters when his hand flies up to touch the spot you’d kissed.
“I like when you do that.” 
“This?” you ask, kissing him again. Through squinted eyes, you notice a dusting of pink over his cheeks and take such a big sip of your slushy that every single part of your body goes numb and your head starts to hurt. Sunghoon only laughs, watching you. It’s quiet between you for a bit until you come to. “I’m not complaining, really, but don’t you have.. lives to guard?” 
“I’m on break,” he says. “Do you want me to go?” His brows raise dramatically as the corners of his lips sink to the floor, a glint of something playful in his sparkling eyes. 
You shake your head, face alighting with a grin when you remember something. “So can I see the skating videos you promised you’d show me?” 
All playfulness is gone. “Did I.. promise?” 
“Yes!” You don’t like the way he arches his brow at you. “Two nights ago.. before you fell asleep on the phone.” 
He scoffs at you, playfully. “If I remember correctly, you fell asleep on the phone,” Sunghoon says, tone accusatory. “And you snore.” Sunghoon lets his cheek lie flat against the chair, grinning. He’s beautiful. And correct.
“Skating videos,” you repeat. Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you, grinning brilliantly when you laugh. “I’m serious,” you frown. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, like it’s a correction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Sunghoon pauses but takes your nod as a sign to continue. “I have a thing, next Tuesday, and I was wondering if you’d want to come and see me skate in person?” His voice tips up at the end of the question.
Excitement bubbles up inside you, causing you to sit up straight in your seat, turning your body to face him. “You want me to come?” 
He nods eagerly. 
“I’ll be there.” 
The tips of Sunghoon’s ears redden as he smiles at you, his eyes scanning your face. You can’t resist kissing him, and he doesn’t try to stop you, meeting your lips halfway. It’s sweet as sugar and goes on until his friends start to cheer loudly and Sunghoon pulls away, shy. But he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You grab him by the cord of the whistle around his neck and pull him back towards you. Relief floods you when your lips reunite.
“I’m gonna text you later with the details, time and shit,” he mumbles against your lips before getting up to go. 
As he retreats, he looks over his shoulder a few times, waving at you and smiling widely while he does. Until he bumps into a small child who practically topples over; Sunghoon manages to catch them in the nick of time and his neck flushes pink. 
It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so cute. 
Chaewon watches you as she sips her slushy with an appreciative smile, letting out a long ahh of refreshment before putting the cup down. “Chaewon approved.” 
It seems like your mother’s been back from work for a while when you get home. A stretchy white headband holds her hair out of her face while she stands over a pot on the stove, looking comfy in some sweatpants.
Happy to see you, she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, honey,” she grins. 
She turns down your offer to help and insists on you setting the table instead, which you do happily, taking a seat when you’re done. Through her phone, she plays the music she listened to while you were growing up and sitting there, watching your mum cook while dripping chlorinated water from your hair to the kitchen floor, makes you feel a bit like a child. Like it’s 2008 and you’ve come home from a day at the pool with Chaewon, who would sit across from you at the dinner table, all blunt fringe and missing teeth, talking about this brand new thing called cheesecake, while your mother made dinner for the three of you with a towel wrapped on her head, drying her wet hair. 
As your mum fills your plate, she tells you about her day at work. Her boss was unreasonable, like always, and her office bestie took off on maternity leave. Again. She asks you about your day and pretends like she doesn’t notice the way you smile when you talk about the pool. 
You don’t wait to tell her about Sunghoon. 
“Is that who you went out with last week?” 
You cough around a grain of rice; you don’t remember mentioning him. “How do you know?” 
A smile takes over her face. “Because I watched him stand around the driveway for five minutes before he rang the bell.” You can’t help the way you laugh, it sounds like him to a tee. “What’s he like?” 
You tilt your head for a minute, thinking. “I still feel like we’re getting to know each other, you know?” Understanding, she nods her head. So, naturally, you talk for the better part of 10 minutes about Sunghoon until your food gets cold and your cheeks hurt from smiling. 
In preparation for Sunghoon’s skating showcase, you read up on the sport and audience etiquette, and stay up late the night before making a pretty banner for him. Sleepiness plagues you when you wake up that afternoon but at least you’re happy with the way the sign came out. 
While doing your makeup, you start to second guess your outfit choice. It was nice when you picked it last week, and it was nice when you put it on an hour ago and then back on twenty minutes ago. So, out of options, you stand in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, sending Sunghoon a picture of your flowy off-white dress and asking if it’s okay. 
Sunghoon, dramatic as ever, responds with a selfie, all pretty smile and red hearts drawn over his eyes. You almost want to drop dead at the sight of him. And then another message comes through, no words, just emojis. At least 40 silly little yellow faces fill the text box. Some are crying, some have heart eyes, some have starry eyes, and some are drooling. There seems to be no apparent order, and you see sprinkles of white hearts in between them. 
sh: you look so beautiful you’re so beautiful baby
Baby, he’d said. Simple, pixelated, enough to make your heart flip in your chest. 
sh: can i come over 
sh: just to loo k at you or smth 
you: please 
You want to kiss him. 
sh: ok omw .. lying i dont have time :((( 
sh: also i fucked up my hair last night don’t laugh when you see me. 
you: no promises .. 
There’s a short queue at the reception desk when you arrive at the rink. The lobby is full of excited parents and bored teens, all eager with anticipation for the start (and end) of the summer showcase. Sunghoon had been relatively vague about the event until you called him last night, with a list of questions about it. With one question about it. The two of you chatted and laughed for hours until you got an answer. 
When he’s not spending the day at the pool, Sunghoon volunteers to teach kids classes at the rink he grew up in. Every year, the teaching cycle runs from April to July, at which point the rink holds the summer showcase, for parents and family members to attend and see what they’ve been funding for the past four months. 
“We don’t normally let parents sit in on classes because it’s distracting for the kids,” he explained through a yawn. “And it’s the whole reason I started skating in the first place.” Sunghoon paused. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop speaking but you rubbed your eyes and mumbled oh, really? as you used a pencil to sketch out the outline of your bubble letters. “You know, at first I thought you fell asleep, but I didn’t hear you snoring so I got a little worried,” he said, nervous. 
“I’m still here.” 
He fell quiet for a beat, speaking nervously. “Just let me know if I’m boring you, yeah?” 
“I could listen to you talk forever,” you admitted. “I’m having fun learning more about you.” 
Sunghoon’s light laughter made you bite back a giggle. “You make me feel good about myself,” he said quietly before continuing, giving you no time to respond. “But, yeah, I used to play hockey because I didn’t know how to talk to anyone except my parents and my one-year-old little sister, but my only friend on the hockey team invited me to go and watch him at the showcase one year and it was just.. the greatest thing I’d ever seen.” 
You encouraged Sunghoon to go on, still reeling from his quiet confession, and loving the grin in his voice while he spoke about skating and the way he laughed through some stories from work. Like how on a quiet day at the pool when he’d been messing around with Heeseung, Jake, and Riki in the water, some random guy approached them. 
“And this is so crazy too because we were just, like, fucking around, and the guy goes, “My grandmother can swim faster than you,” like he yelled it and stomped away.” 
Worried about waking your sleeping parents, you covered your mouth while laughing, mainly from the offence you can hear in Sunghoon’s voice over something that happened in October. “What did you guys do after that?” 
“I was on shift so I clocked out and went home.” 
The back of the program has a picture of Sunghoon and some of the other skating coaches, but it’s hard to pay attention to them or the signup sheet at the bottom when you see the wide smile on his face; you love the photo, it’s your favourite. He looks so happy, so radiant. If the scrunch of his nose and eyes is anything to go by, he must have been laughing when the picture was taken. This detail only makes you love it even more. 
In the corner of your eye, Jake leans against a wall, scrolling through his phone with a sheet of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing as he’s now (technically) your friend-in-law, you decide to approach him. Through the crowd of attendees waiting to be seated, he spots you as well, rushing over with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone. You could count his teeth. 
Jake takes you by surprise, hugging you. “Hey! Hoon’s so happy that you’re here,” he says, somehow smiling even wider. “I’m so happy that you’re here, I finally have company!” 
When the double doors to the rink open up, you follow Jake to what he describes as the best seats in the house. “I always sit up here, so our boy knows to look over,” he says with a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “In case you were worried about that. It’s kinda far, and there’s lights, so you might have to wave a little harder than normal but, he’ll see you.” 
You nod, smiling too. “Got it.” Jake doesn’t look away. “Are you okay?” you ask him. More out of concern for your own well-being than anything else; you’ve heard of people murdering their best friend’s crushes before. 
He chews on his lip, tilting his head. All traces of his welcoming smile have faded, replaced with a more solemn expression as he looks over your shoulder for a beat. “Sunghoon’s my best friend,” he starts, and it’s hard not to picture yourself tumbling to your death down the slowly populating rows in front of you. They seem steeper now than before. “And he’s.. well.. you know him. It’s just that, he really likes you, you know? And I’m not saying this to be rude but I know about Yeonjun.. and—” Jake stops short, shooting you an apologetic look. “Anyway, I know that for some people, for you, for me, even, seeing more than one person at a time isn’t a big deal, but Hoon’s not like that.” 
You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. 
A voice booms through the tannoy, telling everyone to take their seats as the show will be starting soon. 
Unsure what to say, you look out at the ice while Jake’s words sink in. It might have been easier to come up with something if he’d been any less kind about it. Spoken to you in a harsher tone. You hate the idea of Sunghoon knowing about the others, even if they were before him. Hate the idea of Jake having a similar conversation with him; telling Sunghoon that he’s not trying to be rude but..
“Sunghoon’s..” you pause, nervous. “He’s the best, and I can’t imagine seeing anyone else,” you admit. 
Jake beams, trusting you, and nods his head. “He’s gonna love your banner,” he grins. “And that.. angry looking plushy you brought.” 
The lights cut and all of the chatter hushes in an instant. Slowly, they fade back on, as a classical piece begins. Jake bounces his leg so hard you can feel the bench rattle under you, he’s practically glowing with giddiness. He’s like a little puppy, a golden retriever with light hair to match. 
After a short while, a boy skates out onto the ice, tall, graceful, an—Riki? He reaches the middle of the rink and introduces himself, enthusiastically reading a script from a few cue cards and looking right up into the stands to wear you and Jake sit. Beside you, Jake cheers, raising his banner, and you crane your neck to read it (LUCKY STRAWBERRIKI), and on the ice, Riki hides his face with his hand, quickly looking at his feet before continuing with his intro. 
You count eight tiny kids skating towards Riki, followed by Jungwon, and a line of other older skaters, Sunghoon is the last to appear, and your stomach churns with pride. All of them are dressed casually; you like Sunghoon’s straight-cut jeans and open button-up. 
As Jake predicted, Sunghoon (and Jungwon, and Riki) look up in your general direction, and next to you, Jake struggles to hold all three posters up at once so you help him, yelling along excitedly. It’s hard to tell from so far away but it feels like Sunghoon is staring straight at you like you’re the only two people at the rink. You feel like standing, like standing and singing HOOOOOOOOOOOON at the top of your lungs. For a moment you wonder if he’d shout back, telling you that right now he can hardly breathe. As if reading your mind, his mouth tugs up at the corners, slightly, before spreading into an ear-to-ear grin that makes your cheeks burn. 
The entire show passes by in an adorable whirlwind, as you and Jake applaud and encourage all of the performers, gushing with one another over how cute the baby skaters (including Jungwon and Riki) are. It’s beautiful and exciting, and you’re so happy you came. 
But time seems to stop when Sunghoon returns. Jake cheers loudly for him when he skates out; you can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
He comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, looking right up at the two of you. Jake waves his poster and raises yours too, seeming to notice the way you’re stuck to the spot. Sunghoon smiles, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than you remembered. 
Graceful, elegant, Sunghoon glides on the ice when the music starts, immediately skating into a jump — you watch with held breath. He spins once, his arms tucked neatly by his sides, his hair fanning out around his head. Another spin, beautiful, clean. In the seats around you, people are cheering, you can hear them clear as day but the only person you see is Sunghoon who’s turning into his third rotation; the last. He sticks the landing, and an eternity has passed by as you let a sigh of relief slip out. 
Each jump is more gorgeous than the last, though seems to go on forever — you’re nervous as if it’s you on the ice. 
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you watch as he skates beautifully, executing smooth spins and controlled turns. You don’t think you could look away from him if you tried — this must be what people mean when they say someone was born for something. Even in the casual setting, he looks like a professional, just as stable and fluid as he was in the videos you’d watched. 
The music fades out, his performance is done, and you find yourself thankful for the fact that no one’s sitting behind you as you stand up. Jake does the same. Both of you hold your banners up for him to see, cheering louder than anyone else. Sunghoon raises a hand to wave at you. You wave back excitedly, getting a little flustered by the girl sitting a few rows ahead of you who turns around, smiling dreamily at Jake and rolling her eyes at you.
After bowing politely, Sunghoon looks back up at you, and you can’t help but blow him a kiss, only feeling silly about it when Jake nudges you with a goofy smile. You watch as Sunghoon raises his right hand for a beat, shifting a little on his skates before reaching out ahead of him, catching the flying kiss. 
Butterflies run rampant in your stomach when he holds his hand, and your kiss, over his heart.
As the show ends, you chat with Jake for a bit, gushing over the performances together as the audience clears out, and you trudge slowly down the stairs and back into the lobby. It’s nice chatting with him, seeing the way his face lights up as he talks so excitedly and passionately about his friends. 
You understand why Sunghoon likes him so much.
Sunghoon shows up at the other end of the lobby space, a vision in purple-tinted hair. You have to tell yourself to keep your feet planted on the spot for fear of literally running into his arms. He doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, thank God, jogging through the lobby, dipping and dodging people as best and as fast as he can to reach you. 
He hugs you. Holds you tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, quietly, only for you. 
In your chest, your heart seems to grow tiny fists that throw a million punches a minute. Your brain scrambles for the words to say but you can’t come up with anything, hoping that the tightness of your arms around him lets him know that you’re glad to be here. 
He lets go of you, beaming, and moves to dap up Jake, asking his friend if he’s aware that he’s taking Jungwon and Riki go-karting tonight. 
“I’m doing what?” 
“Yeah, they wanted me to take them but I’m busy.” 
“Busy doing what?” Jake asks conspiratorially, arching a brow. He glances sideways at you, and can’t hold back his laughter. 
Sunghoon sets his jaw, punching Jake in the stomach. “Grow up,” he mutters, stifling a laugh of his own. 
You laugh too, partially at what Jake said, mostly at the way he keels over, clutching his stomach, a long groan passing from his lips. Sunghoon’s brows raise when you hand him the banner. “Look what I made for you.” 
“I saw you holding it earlier, baby, I love it,” he says, beaming at you as he reads over it again. “You did such a good job. Can I take it home?” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you. Your heart cinches in your chest. 
“Of course.”
Next to you, Jake holds out the banner he made. “Do you wanna take mine home?” 
Sunghoon doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Recycle it,” he says. 
Jake tilts his head, confused. A loud huh comes out as he raises his brows. “I make a banner for you every single year and every single time you turn your nose up at it. But here comes a pretty girl and all of a sudden you love banners. Really, Sunghoon? You love it?” He pauses to let out a laugh, incredulous, seeming not to care about the few people that have turned over in your direction. “I can’t stand you.” Jake’s voice is whiny and hard to take seriously.
“I don’t love banners, I love this banner,” Sunghoon corrects, using his hand to shove Jake’s shoulder before holding the banner up over his chest. 
Amused, you watch the two boys bicker for a bit before Jake cuts Sunghoon off mid-sentence, raising his hands, muttering the word whatever.
Sunghoon seems sceptical of Badtz-Maru when you hand him over. He holds the plushy in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “He’s cute, baby, really, but why’d you pick the world’s unhappiest penguin?”
“He reminded me of you.” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, brows knitting together as he tilts his head, all while Jake struggles to stifle a laugh. “Because he’s from Gorgeoustown,” you add, your heart singing when Sunghoon kisses the top of your head, and you can’t resist letting your arms wrap around his waist. 
Compliments flow out of you like water from a fountain when Jungwon and Riki join your little group outside. Jungwon, with deep dimples and flushed cheeks, shyly mumbles variations of thank you, and I appreciate that while shifting from one foot to the other. Riki glows with pride, standing up straighter, and asking you what else you liked about his performance. 
The sun feels nice on your arms as you watch the two play a very intense, high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors for the front seat of Jake’s car. They’re playing best of five and getting ready to begin the third, and possibly final round. Riki has two wins under his belt, it’s not looking good for Jungwon whose breathing has become heavy. He’s taken off his hoodie and is stretching his arms in preparation. 
You start a countdown from three and laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt when Jungwon throws a losing rock against Riki’s paper, the oldest boy falling to his knees on the pavement and holding his head in his hands. Riki jumps higher than he had on the ice, embracing Jake in a tight hug, overjoyed by the victory while Jungwon groans. 
“Let’s hang out,” Sunghoon says as you walk to his car. 
Squeezing his hand, you nod and try not to melt on the concrete when he opens the car door for you. “What do you normally do after skating?” 
Sunghoon seems to think about your question for a while, tilting his head to the side as a fond smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “My parents would always take me out for dessert after competitions, or the next day if it was too late.” 
“Well, what do you think, Hoon? Is it too late for dessert?” 
Giddy in a way you’ve never seen him, he shakes his head in response. And in his car, he hums along to the radio, gingerly resting his hand on your bare knee. 
Sunghoon takes you to a dessert spot by Chaewon’s house, a fairly popular family-owned establishment that serves her favourite cheesecake. You sink into your seat over the table from him, in a slightly stiff booth with a tall back that makes it seem like it’s just you two and a coffee shop chatter Youtube video playing on a loop. 
“What are you having, baby?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the laminated menu. 
Knowing that Chaewon is coming over later, you let your eyes fall to the ice cream selection, reading the names of all 27 flavours and still settling on the only flavour you ever order here. “Cookie dough,” you say, reaching across the table to point at it on his menu. 
“And?” 
“And nothing.” 
His brows furrow. “You’re only getting ice cream?” 
“I mean, it’ll probably come in a cup, with a spoon,” you say, liking the way Sunghoon laughs at your stupid comment. “Chaewon’s staying over tonight so I don’t wanna fill up too much before dinner. I’ll order some cheesecake to take away when we’re done though, it’s her favourite,” you explain. 
He nods his head. “We can share my tiramisu.” 
It’s only after a conversation with Jake later on that you realise how big of a deal this is.
The two of you only manage to stop chatting and laughing when a girl with a cute bow in her hair and a smile on her face comes to ask if you’re ready to order. Across from you, Sunghoon orders a slice of tiramisu and a 3-scoop cup of coffee-flavoured ice cream. He runs a big hand through his hair and clears his throat, cheeks covered in pink as he asks if it would be okay for us to get a milkshake, to share, so, like, one milkshake, but then with two straws? Her eyes flick between the two of you and she grins, nodding her head but Sunghoon doesn’t go on. 
“A strawberry milkshake, please,” you say, watching the waitress take note of it before saying she’ll be right back. 
More than anyone you’ve ever met, Sunghoon loves tiramisu; he adores it. He lets you take the first spoon, and it’s delicious so you don’t have to fake your reaction when you try it. Sunghoon lights up with childlike excitement as he tries the second spoonful, his eyes widening as he hums around the dessert, shaking his head a little out of genuine enjoyment. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to tell you about the origins of the word (stems from the Italian tira mi su or pick me up), and shares a fond memory of the first time he tried it — he was 9 years old and choked on the cocoa powder on top.  
Sunghoon takes the first sip from the tall glass that sits between you both, you gulp at the sight of his lips wrapping around the straw and need to try it too. Your noses bump a little when you lean in, and, with sweet strawberry coating your tongue, you can’t help but giggle.
As you’d been expecting, your cookie dough ice cream is delicious and after a while, you use your tiny plastic spoon to scrape the sides of your cup and ignore the way Sunghoon laughs at you. Even when he’s mocking you, he still makes your stomach flutter.
“I can get you more if you want,” he offers with a wide smile. 
You shake your head. Sunghoon frowns, watching you collect the last pitiful scrapings before eating them. “You were so pretty today,” you tell him around the spoon.
“Did you think I was ugly before?” 
“Extremely.” His face scrunches up with laughter, showing off his dimple and his fangs. “You must have practised forever,” you add, distracted.
Sunghoon shrugs, reaching his hand across the table to play with your fingers. “In a way I did but not really,” he says vaguely, using his nail to draw a circle in the palm of your hand. “I don’t plan anything for the showcase, it’s just meant for fun, you know? I just go out and do what feels right on the day — so, I guess I’ve been practising for the last 13 years.” 
Completely awestruck, you utter a quiet “wow” and giggle when he pinches your hand. 
“What’re you and Chaewon gonna do later?” he asks, changing the subject.
You let him. At the mention of your best friend, a smile teases at your lips and Sunghoon matches it, beaming sweetly at you, looking forward to what you have to say. “I’m gonna cut her hair.” 
“Really?” Your heart thuds at the genuine interest in his tone. “Do you always cut it for her?”
“No,” you pout. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair.”
“Not even your own?” Sunghoon laughs when you shake your head. “Wow, she must really trust you.”
It’s your turn to shrug. “We’re best friends.”
“She’s lucky.” 
A chuckle slips out of you and you scrunch your nose. “Me too.” 
When he sees the waitress approaching, Sunghoon stacks your dishes to help out, handing them over to her with a soft smile. “Would we be able to get two slices of cheesecake?” he asks. “To go?”
“Sure, what flavour?”
“Vanilla, please.” 
Eunchae, as you read from her nametag, makes a face, pulling air through her teeth. “The vanilla’s gonna be about an hour wait.” 
Sunghoon pales, looking at you. “That’s alright,” you say, smiling. 
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, asking only for the bill. The two of you go back and forth on it and you practically beg him to let you pay. You put up a good fight, only backing down because he renders you speechless, shaking his head and saying: I’m not gonna take my girl on a date then make her pay. 
His girl hides her face with her hands, flustered. 
He laughs. 
A beat passes before he stands up, holding a hand out and asking you to go with him to the photo booth. With a smile, you slip your hand into his, allowing him to tug you towards it. Behind the curtain, he wraps his arm around your waist, leaning forward to pay. The two of you agree that you’ll take a set for him to keep and one for you. On the screen, a countdown starts from 4, and you almost feel under pressure. 
Posing for the first picture is a little awkward; you watch as Sunghoon puffs out his cheeks, poking one, and suppress your smile to copy. The second isn’t much better; you both grin and hold up peace signs. As you pose for the third, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, can see him on the screen, staring as you look at yourself ahead but can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
The countdown reaches 2 and he holds you closer. His lips touch your cheek when the screen says 1 and you grin when the picture is taken. Sunghoon’s gaze is soft when you look at him. His hand touches your cheek, heavy on your skin, as he leans in to kiss you. You’ve never been kissed in a photo booth before and your heart beats in the back of your throat when the screen flashes, taking the last photo. 
He sticks his head out of the curtain to collect the 4-cut and cringes a little. “God, we look so stiff in the first two,” he complains. 
“I love them,” you say, taking the photo set from his hand. “They’re perfect.” You mean it. The visible awkwardness that you can feel through the frame is endearing to you, and you like the gradual transition into comfort as the photos progress. 
He looks at you with disbelieving eyes and pays for the next set. 
When you reach your table again, Sunghoon slides into the booth next to you, letting his arm rest over your shoulders, and he’s just as sweet as the tiramisu you tasted on his lips. 
With full bellies and two slices of cheesecake packaged in a pretty yellow box, you head back to his car, where he clips his photo set to the sun visor. You can’t help but lean over the centre console to kiss him again. When you pull away from him, you swear his eyes dart to the backseat, but the moment goes by as quickly as it happens so you must have been imagining things. He drives you home with the radio playing lowly, and his fingers locked with yours. 
On your doorstep, Sunghoon kisses you goodbye, biting at your bottom lip and grabbing your ass. He’s never kissed you like this before. You don’t think you were making things up earlier. “I really like your dress,” he tells you quietly, his lips brushing yours. 
Suddenly nervous, you mumble a thank you. 
“I like everything you wear, but this dress?” Sunghoon pulls away from you, just enough to rake his eyes down your body before holding you close. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding your cheek in his palm before kissing you again.  
A few hours later, Chaewon stands on a towel in the bathroom, between you and the mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. “Are you sure about this?”
She nods her head. “It doesn’t need to be neat, it just needs to be short,” she assures you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. Despite only just passing her shoulders, Chaewon’s hair is the longest you think you’ve ever seen it. “I wanted to grow it out, like Kazuha’s, but I hate the way it feels on my skin.” Freshly washed, her hair is just beyond damp and darkening her pink t-shirt. 
You gulp, nervous. “How about you sit down?” 
She nods, saying it’s a good call. 
Chaewon sits on a towel in your bedroom, between you and your full-length mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. Before you grab them, you move her hair over her shoulders just so she can tell you once more to give her a chin-length bob. 
She does. You nod. 
Releasing a deep breath you make the first cut, and the sound of the blades slicing through her hair leaves goosebumps forming on your arms. Wet and slightly clumped together, the remaining hair falls from your hold and smacks her ear. You hold your breath as she runs her fingers through it. 
“It’s even!” 
“I only cut one part, Wonie.”
“Yeah, but you did good!” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and she grins. “Keep going, keep going!” 
The other three sections generate similar reactions, and you keep having to tell her to sit still while you try to trim her hair. 
Chaewon claps her hands when you finish, running her fingers through her “new” bob. “I love it!” she squeals, beaming at your reflection. “It’s perfect.” She turns around on the spot to fling her arms at you, appreciative, wrapping you up in her familiar, soft scent. 
The two of you sit on the couch, as Gossip Girl plays on the TV. For the duration of an entire episode, Chaewon turns her head gently from left to right, her short hair fanning out around her, with a light smile on her face as she does so. You only manage to look away from her when you remember the cheesecake, getting up from your seat abruptly, and excusing yourself. 
As you enter the kitchen, you check your phone, grinning at the sight of a few texts from Sunghoon. You open the fridge as you unlock your phone, clicking on the notification as you take the box of dessert out. Giggles fall out of you at the first message: a cute bed selfie, with his plushy tucked under his arm. 
sh: no way
sh: he smells like you :o
sh: are we seeing each other tmrw? 
sh: (say yes) 
It doesn’t make sense to you that Sunghoon is as cute as he is — you have to put the cheesecake down to relax. 
you: noooooooooo ur so cute
you: i gave him some perfume :o and i’m w wonie tn and tmrw but another time
you: talk later hoonie! 
The sight of the box in your hand makes Chaewon spring out of her seat, covering her mouth with her hands as she does a cute happy dance, prompting you to set the cake down on the coffee table to join her. Tired out, you slump back onto the couch after a while, smiling when she hands over your plate before sitting next to you. 
With a fond smile, you pull your knees to your chest, watching as Chaewon says: You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl, in perfect sync with Kristen Bell. She grins to herself before taking a forkful of cheesecake to her mouth, moaning around the utensil. 
You’ve never known anyone to like dessert as much as her, and a grin forms on its own as you remember the way Sunghoon had done almost the same thing with tiramisu only hours earlier. Being an avid hater of tiramisu, you wonder how Chaewon might react if you told her, before focusing on your slice and the gorgeous face of Leighton Meester. 
The two of you must sit through four episodes, before you sleepily lean into her, telling her she can finish off your piece of cake that she’s been eyeing hungrily since she finished hers approximately 15 Gossip Girl blasts ago. She watches you from the counter while you wash the dishes, thanking you again for the cake. 
Later that night — when she thinks you’re asleep — Chaewon presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” she whispers, turning over in bed and grabbing your hand. You don’t know what to do when you hear her sniffling next to you. 
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Salt air and sun cream skate around you — the only things you can smell over the oil soaked chips you share with Chaewon at the beach. Heavy trainers weigh down each corner of the fitted bed sheet underneath you and Chaewon as you watch the wind push clouds through the too-blue sky. Drunk on cider, she laughs to herself, pointing above you. “That one kinda looks like Sunghoon’s friend, right?”
“Which one?” you ask, moving your head to see exactly what she’s pointing at. You’re not sure if you’re asking which friend or which cloud. 
“That one, like Jay.”
Laughter hits you immediately. She’s absolutely right. A triangular mass in the sky leaves you both cackling and rolling around. 
Same as the sand through your fingers, three weeks slip by. You and Sunghoon take more pictures in photo booths and struggle to stop kissing each other. He clasps your necklaces, and puts sunscreen on your back; you hug him from behind and take naps in the park with your head on his chest. Sunghoon makes daisy chains to sit in your hair, and puffy paper stars to fill a jar in your desk. You take his little sister for ice cream and braid her hair when she asks you. 
Tonight however, completely spent from a day of shopping with your mum and Chaewon, the three of you sat on the couch, all eating your bodyweight in cheesecake and crying over the ending of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  
After you’ve all recovered, your mum watches from the car as you hug Chaewon on her doorstep and you fall asleep in the passenger seat on the ride home. No longer small enough to be carried up to your room, you drag your feet to the bed where you fall asleep as soon as your body hits the mattress. But a phone call from Kazuha disrupts your slumber. 
“Are you going to the pool tomorrow?” she asks, sounding alarmingly awake for 4:57 a.m. 
“Tomorrow, today, or tomorrow, tomorrow?” 
“Like,” she pauses, you can picture her running a hand through her hair as she thinks. “In a few hours, I guess.” 
You hum down the phone. 
“We can go together!” The smile in her voice is audible. “Oh, Jay likes YJ. Did I tell you? And fuck, Lee Heeseung is so annoying.” 
“No, he’s not,” you say defensively, slightly rattled by the fact that she woke you up in the middle of the night to shit on your boy’s best friend.
Kazuha scoffs. “Sure.” The line falls quiet for a beat. “He’s not actually annoying, I was just trying to announce that I have a crush on him.” Of course she was. 
“Heeseung seems like a great guy and I’m really happy for you, but let’s talk at the pool, okay?” 
“Talk at the pool!” she chirps, cutting the phone. 
You don’t manage to get back to sleep. 
At the pool, Kazuha says you’re beautiful when you pull your t-shirt over your head and cuts you off before you get to thank her, going on a tangent about how badly she wants to nap but doesn’t want to tan unevenly. Or sleep for too long that her face gets puffy. You take your mission seriously, using your phone to set timers and waking her up each time it goes off despite the way she grumbles at you. 
Riki runs over to tell you to watch him before running away and flipping into the water. Your praise doesn’t seem to get old, but the flips don’t either, each one just as clean and impressive as the ones before. 
Kazuha’s on her 4th rotation when you find yourself wandering over to the concession stand, in the mood for something sweet after being tempted by the scent of baking dough wafting over the pool. But as you get further and further ahead in line, you eventually decide you only want a lollipop, and there are only two people in front of you when you realise you left your phone in your chair and won’t be able to pay.
As if sent from heaven, someone taps you on the shoulder, but you’re met with no one when you look to your left; Sunghoon’s laugh is adorable on the other side of you, contagious when he bumps your hip with his. 
“Hi, baby,” you say, looking up at him. He has a white towel on his head, covering his forehead and tucked behind his ears. “Is there a reason you have this on?” you ask him, touching the damp fabric that sits on his shoulders.  
“What, I’m not allowed to dry my hair?” 
“I’m not allowed to be curious?” 
Sunghoon gently flicks your forehead and you pretend it hurts. 
Like Hannah Montana, he hooks his fingers under the front of the towel, pulling the “wig” off to reveal his luscious (and soaking wet) locks of dark hair. A gasp falls from your lips as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. Having essentially grown up with Sunghoon, or rather, grown up adjacent to Sunghoon, him having black hair isn’t anything new. But it’s definitely something you’re fond of. Fond of him and the way his dark hair only brings out his features, matching his thick brows and the hard lines of his face. 
“Do you like it?” he asks. 
You love it. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you ask, pushing some of his hair from his forehead. 
“Buzzcut.” 
With a worried look on his face, he lets you use both hands to cover his hair and imagine it. “Are you laughing because I’m so devastatingly gorgeous with black hair or because I’m about to buzz my head?” Laughter bubbles in your chest, as his hair flops back over his forehead. “Wait, baby, no.” A deep pout settles on his lips. “You actually don’t like it?” 
“I love it, you know I love it.” 
Sunghoon lets you compliment him until you reach the front of the line when he talks with the person on shift. He uses his phone to pay for what you want, and seeing your smiling face on his lock screen makes your cheeks burn while you hide your face in his back, arms locked limply around his waist. 
The two of you only leave the stand when the line behind you builds up, standing in the shade next to it. He watches you unwrap the candy and raises a brow when you hold it out to him. “First lick?”
He shakes his head. 
“Come on, Hoonie,” you tease, letting your hand rest on his arm, liking the way it tenses under your touch. “I know you want a taste.” 
His eyes drop to your chest for a split second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he lifts his gaze. “You have no idea,” he mumbles before opening his mouth a little, leaning down towards you. His lips are slightly parted and very tempting as they wrap around the lollipop. 
“Good?”
Sunghoon’s eyes lock with yours as he sucks on the candy. “Very,” he says, the word coming out kind of garbled around it before letting you take it back. You watch him chew on his lip, humming to himself at the lingering taste of your lolly. 
The cola flavour hits your tongue immediately and you like the way Sunghoon gulps as he watches you, struggling to maintain the eye contact you’d had a moment earlier. You don’t take nearly as long as he did, pulling the lolly from your lips with a satisfying pop before smiling up at him, sickly sweet. “Very good indeed,” you echo him, letting the candy rest between your lips before you turn to walk away. Sunghoon follows, thankfully. Heading back over to where you’d been sitting, you find Kazuha’s chair empty. 
A shriek over your shoulder locates her like a pin on a map. 
In the pool, you see her sitting on Heeseung’s shoulders cackling as she pushes Sunoo over so hard that Jay, whose shoulders he’s sitting on, falls too. Gleefully, she leans back, falling into the water only to resurface and find her way into Heeseung’s arms. You stop walking when she tilts her head up to kiss him. Oh? Sunghoon walks right into your back. The kiss is short, not much more than a peck really, she pulls away with a grin on her face, swimming to the edge of the pool and Heeseung’s ears turn red as he watches her. 
Against your own, Sunghoon’s skin is warm, slick almost from what you think is a combination of pool water, sweat, and sunscreen. You hate yourself for liking it. His hardening dick presses against you, and your heart swells — some frenzied mix of feeling flattered, and horniness, you assume. A flame burns in your stomach, hot, blue. Neither of you moves for a while, long enough for Kazuha to walk over to your seats and scrunch her hair with a t-shirt. 
Sunghoon exhales shakily when you lean into him, resting the back of your head on his chest and holding the lollipop by the stick. “You okay?” you ask, voice nothing more than a whisper. 
His head dips, breath fanning your neck as he kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your skin before standing up straight. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” he asks, words coming out as one. “My family’s on vacation.” His cock twitches against you when he says it. 
“They are?” 
“Mm, they leave tomorrow morning.”
A breathy laugh comes from your nose as you step away from his body, turning around to look at him. Not so subtly, he takes the towel from his shoulder and holds it in his hand, covering himself. A proper laugh falls from your lips, your head tipping back a bit. 
“What if I wanna come today?” you ask, raising a brow. “Tonight even?” 
“Tonight? I can call you if you wanna come tonight.” 
You have a feeling that the two of you are talking about entirely different things.
“Pick me up?” 
“Always.” 
Sunghoon’s bedroom is exceptionally neat. Everything on his desk (his PC set up and a notebook) is placed precisely, and there’s nothing on the floor except for his furniture and a giant 8-ball rug. His off-white walls are completely bare, save for three posters above his desk; your favourite is a handmade (you think) white poster that reads There’s No Planet B in slightly messy block capitals, which sits between blown up pictures of Childish Gambino, and SZA. Underneath the perfectly aligned posters, stuck right above his monitor are the words: Figure skating prince, Park Sunghoon! You’re the best! with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner; your heart does a triple axel at the sight. 
He stands in the middle of his open doorway like he has been for the past two minutes, watching you admire the medals that sit in a display case on a floating shelf. In 2015 he took home a gold medal from the Lombardia Trophy, and another from the Asian Open Trophy. The two silver medals beside them tell you that he continued to do well at the Asian Open Trophy in the two years that followed.
Along with the Sunghoon you saw today, tiny Sunghoon skates through your mind, so impressive and so young. The quiet boy who often missed class. Who’d fall asleep with his face in a textbook during the classes he did attend. Who you’d let borrow your notes after days of absence, and who wordlessly thanked you with a carton of banana milk each time. How didn’t you know about all of this?  Beyond awestruck by his accomplishments, you look over your shoulder to ask him about it. 
Sunghoon only shrugs. “I was okay.”
“You were okay?” You can’t help but scoff at him. “I’ve seen the videos, Sunghoon. I’ve seen you in person, you’re.. amazing.” The word feels like an understatement. “I don’t know very much about skating but you’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking at his feet. 
“Have you thought about the Olympics?” you ask seriously. You get ready to apologise when you watch him purse his lips to the side, making you worry you’ve touched a nerve—But Sunghoon speaks before you have the chance. 
“I used to train with the Olympic team but it was too much pressure for me, and I much prefer coaching nowadays, it’s, like, the perfect way for me to feel all the joy of skating and absolutely none of the stress.” The fond smile on his face makes you think he means it.
It almost feels wrong to sit on his neatly made bed but you take a seat on its edge anyway, desperate for one of you to at least look comfortable in this situation. BaMa sits between his pillows and you can’t help but smile at the penguin who stares back at you, unimpressed. Sunghoon stays in place. From where you’re sitting, it’d be difficult to miss the way his eyes widen, stuck on you as he chews on his bottom lip. “Are you okay?” you ask him after a while, starting to feel awkward under his stare. 
For a split second, Sunghoon presses his lips into a straight line that shows his dimple before shrugging. “I’ve never brought a girl to my room before. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” he says, fixing his gaze on the wall behind you. 
“The only thing we’re supposed to do is whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Sunghoon looks at you, thinking. “We should kiss,” he blurts out. 
“That’s what you want?”
“Badly.” But he doesn’t move. 
You wait it out a little, counting thirty whole seconds with no sign of movement from him. “How’re you gonna kiss me from over there?” 
A gorgeous grin takes over his face. Sunghoon closes the door behind him, crossing the room in a few paces to sit beside you. With some hesitation he pats his lap, struggling to meet your eyes while he does so. Your insides feel like a shaken bottle of Coke when you straddle him, and you can hear him exhale shakily at the way your dress hitches up, showing off your bare thighs. Sunghoon’s thighs are firm underneath you, his pants soft against your skin. It’s no use trying not to think about riding his thigh or riding him. But try as you might, your efforts don’t stand a chance against the feeling of him hardening under you.
His lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the way he smiles, feel a giggle, light, airy, passing from his mouth into yours. It’s hard not to smile too. His fists clench behind you, bunching up the fabric of your dress in his palms desperately. Hard and thick, his cock presses against your core. You moan and Sunghoon all but freezes, his hands releasing your dress.  
Barely a second passes before he grabs you again, leaning back against the bed without breaking the kiss for anything, until you need to catch your breath and you pull away, sitting back in his lap with your hands resting on his toned stomach. You instinctively grind down on him when his cock twitches under you.
From your seat you can see the way his eyes widen when you do, see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when he gulps. Or maybe the gulp came first; it’s hard to say. Either way, you don’t think you care. He sighs, relieved when you rock your hips against his for a second time. 
Sunghoon looks like sin the third time you do it, groaning and sitting up on his elbows, looking at you through lidded eyes, sighing through pouty lips. “I’m not ready to have sex yet.” 
You freeze in place. “That’s okay.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m ready when you are.” 
“I just feel bad that you came all the way over here for nothing.”
Looking down at Sunghoon with all of the uncertainty on his face makes your stomach twist. You wish he knew how much you like being with him; like spending time with him. Wish he knew how nice it was to spend the day sitting by the pool and just getting to look at him. How nice it was to eat fruit in the park with him. To talk about nothing on the phone before bed. You rest a hand on his cheek, melting when his fingers wrap around your wrist and his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Hoon, I’m not here because I wanna have sex with you, I’m here because I like you.” This thing you’ve felt for weeks, lived with and nurtured seems so foreign now that you’ve put it into words. 
The smile on his sweet face almost has you saying it again, and again, if for no other reason than seeing the way his fangs peek out at you, or how his eyes crinkle up into crescents, or hearing how he laughs, breathy, happy.  Sunghoon moves his head to kiss your palm. “I like you,” he says into your skin, mumbling like it’s a secret. “And I like being with you.”  
Even though Sunghoon saying he likes you feels a bit like a toddler telling you they can’t read, the statement shocks you. You knew he liked you, there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt this entire time, but hearing the words, feeling the shape of them against your palm makes his feelings for you seem tangible; so vivid; so thick. Like moisturiser sinking into your pores. 
He moves his head a little so your hand cups his cheek again. He smiles, soft, shy, Sunghoon. “You do.. eventually want that though, right?” The way his brows knit together when he asks is so cute that you can’t help but laugh a little. “Like, to have sex with me,” he adds. 
“Yes, when you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready to do.. other things,” he says, voice dwindling into a shy whisper. 
Curiosity piqued, you arch a brow. “Yeah?” Sunghoon nods. You press on. “Other things like..” 
A beat passes, and Sunghoon doesn’t speak. 
Instead, he opts to pull you down close to his chest, turning the two of you over. My God. His thin silver chain slips out of his shirt, swinging over your face just a bit, his light hair tickles your skin. You think you’d be happy if you died like this. With his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, his eyes scan your face, locking on your parted lips. His fingernail traces shapes on your hip, you immediately notice how blunt it is now compared to yesterday at the pool and can’t help but smile. Sunghoon moves his hand, his fingertips ghosting over your skin until he reaches the top of your panties. 
“Is this okay?” he asks. 
You nod, smiling, eager. You think you might die like this. 
His finger is long and thick, rubbing devastatingly slow circles on your clit through your underwear. Sunghoon puts a little pressure on it, just enough to please you yet still leave you wanting more. He slips a finger into your hole, pressing a kiss to your lips and catching your gasp in his mouth. 
“What got you so wet, baby?” 
There’s something about hearing these words from Sunghoon that makes them sound new, makes them sound fresh; alluring. Makes you want to cum on the spot when you answer. “You did.” Quickly, you learn that the way his lips quirk up into a smile also makes you want to cum on the spot.
You try to focus on the feeling of his tongue on yours, on the loud, wet sound of your lips smacking together, on anything other than how much better one of his fingers feels than two of yours. How much better he fills you up. How quickly he finds your spot and presses on it. A surge of pleasure licks down your spine, causing you to yelp. Kissing becomes hard fast, but if the way he moves his head to your suck lightly at your neck is anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.
He bites and he nips and he kisses the tender skin to soothe you, all while pushing a second finger into you. Time stops at the stretch and you arch your back towards the ceiling. He passes a breathy laugh; calls you cute. Your thighs press together around his hand. 
Leaning up from your skin, he makes a scissor motion with his fingers to work you open, studying the way your eyes screw shut, liking the way you gasp. His head dips back down beside yours, hair tickling your face. You can feel his lips graze your skin, breath fanning your ear. 
“I can’t stop imagining how you might taste,” Sunghoon whispers. “You gonna let me find out?” 
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, and if it wasn’t for all the material, you might have been able to see the trail of spit and love bites that Sunghoon had left on your stomach. You’ll have no choice but to wear one-pieces and full-length shirts for at least a week. There’s a smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
Sunghoon kisses the dark spot on your panties, holding the wet fabric between his lips, tasting you. A quiet moan slips from him, and your body jolts involuntarily, a chill inching up your spine. His fingers hook on the sides of your underwear and he looks up at you, smiling when you nod your head, pulling them down when you lift your hips. With all that material out of the way, he can finally see your pussy, and the word fuck comes tumbling from his lips before he groans. “So pretty, you’re so pretty, YN.”
He buries his face between your thighs to press light kisses to your clit, pecking it sweetly. Your body buzzes from the contact. “Shit,” you sigh at the feeling of him licking a strip from your dripping hole back up to your clit. 
“My God,” he whispers, licking his lips. He presses his tongue against you, lapping up your wetness and humming appreciatively. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut when he holds your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on it, licking at it, slowly, passionately, the way he kisses your mouth. His movements make you jolt and he chuckles against you, a delicious vibration running along your cunt.
Unable to fully express how you feel, you settle with saying so good through a whine. A match strikes a flame in your stomach when Sunghoon moves his head down a little, letting his tongue tease your hole, his nose bumps your clit and he moans into you when you clench around the tip of his tongue. You can’t help but grip his hair to hold him in place, hoping he’ll never stop.
Shamelessly, you hump his pretty face as your orgasm quickly approaches, reminding you how long it’s been since you were last eaten out — not that anyone has ever come close to making you feel this good.  
His lips focus on your clit again as he presses a thick finger into your hole, curling it up towards your belly button a few times before adding another. Immediately, your toes curl up, everything flashes white behind your eyelids while your orgasm rips through you and Sunghoon moans when you finish. You’re thankful for the way he slows down, letting your cum slip out onto his lips and chin for a beat before sucking and licking your slit to clean you up, holding you down as you squirm against his sheets from the sensitivity. 
Looking just as spent as you feel, he leans back on his heels. His eyes are blown wide, his chest heaving, and his lips are swollen, glistening in your arousal that’s spread all over the lower part of his face. Spellbound and unblinking, he stares straight ahead at your cunt. 
“Hoon,” you say, breathless, leaning up on your elbows. 
“Yeah, baby?” He doesn’t look away when he speaks. The trance seems to break at your lack of a response and he seems to want to cuddle just as much as you do if the way he scrambles off the floor and crawls over the bed to you is anything to go by.
Save for Sunghoon’s coaching sessions, the two of you are practically joined at the hip for the entire weekend. In the mornings and before bed, you brush your teeth together and don’t even separate to shower, stuffing yourselves in the cubicle to make out and lather shampoo in each other's hair or soap on each other's backs. 
It’s this excess time together that makes waking up to nothing but a note in Sunghoon’s absence so disturbing. His handwriting stirs something in you, the short and sweet: miss you already, please come visit me at work :) 
None of the girls want to go with you, so you find yourself trying on different swimsuits and figuring out what you’ll do at the pool on your own. With four magazines you’ve already read, a book, and your laptop just in case, you make your way there, enjoying the sun on your skin as you walk. 
“Hi!” A chirpy voice makes you flinch when you reach the pool. Sunoo’s whole face is curved into a grin when you look at him. “I’m Sunoo!” he says, extending a hand for you to shake. His grip is firm, not matching his smile at all. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” 
Equal parts excited and scared to say no, you nod. Dumping your bag in a locker, you meet Sunoo out by the changing rooms’ entrance, and he smiles when he sees you. You follow him over to the smaller pool where the rest of the boys are, Sunghoon included, and introduces you. 
The boys look around at one another, wondering if Sunoo knows that all of them have already met you. He doesn’t pay it any mind, jumping in and joining them. They all continue bothering each other while you sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water. 
Sunghoon, who’s been grinning at you since you arrived, swims over to you and stands in the space between your legs. Cool droplets hit your thighs when he lifts his arms up to wrap around your waist in an embrace that might leave others wondering how many years it’s been since you last saw each other. After promising Jungwon that you won’t make fun of his armbands, you card your fingers through Sunghoon’s wet hair, giggling to yourself when he presses a kiss to your stomach. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 
“Well, yes,” he says, looking up at you with a pout on his lips. “I’m just on duty at this pool today. Are you unhappy to be spending time with me?” 
“A little.”
Sunghoon pulls you into the water with him. “Even as a joke I don’t like that you said that.” There’s a crease in his brow that you want to kiss away but he’s already calling the boys over when you have the idea. Before you know it, all seven of them are splashing you with so much vigour that you don’t even bother fighting back. Even Riki who’s taken a liking to you shows no mercy.
As much fun as you had, you can’t help but feel a little drained when Sunghoon takes you home at the end of the day. You end up spending the week with him and his friends, and Riki seems crushed when you politely decline his invitation to poker night on Friday but his spirits lift when you say you’ll treat him to ice cream if he wins. On Saturday afternoon when you get out of the shower, you spend the better part of an hour wrapped in your towel texting Sunghoon, grinning at the messages he sent you while you were catching up on the girls’ group chat. 
sh: riki didn’t win anything last night so don’t let him lie to you, ok baby?
sh: plus im kinda mad at him ngl ..
sh: i wanna see u today
sh: only you
sh: need it :( 
sh: if i find out you’re making plans w riki rn i’ll kill him 
sh: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
sh: i miss you can i take you out 
you: why are you beefing a kid ur 500 
sh: you’re older than me ???
you: yes and ur my baby bubu bear 
sh: .. 
sh: picnic baby
sh: ? 
you: yes when
sh: rn.. 
you: uhm..
you: let me go get ready i miss u so bad
Your picnic quickly turns into an evening nap session for Sunghoon who, full on pizza and cider, lays down on his stomach with closed eyes and his cheek on his forearms. Meanwhile, you slowly sip cider from a sun-warmed bottle and pick off bits of pepperoni to eat, knowing Sunghoon will be annoyed about it later. The setting sun shifts the sky through warm oranges and purples, casting its hues over the park and Sunghoon’s sleeping form. 
“Quit watching me,” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open and yawning as he sits back up. Soft hair is all flat on the side he’d been lying on and his lips rest in a pout that, when combined with his eyes resting in a permanent squint, makes him look confused.
You watch with a grin on your face as he sits back on his hands, crossing his legs. “I have something for you, actually.” 
“For me?” you ask, shocked, your brows raise, and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. The thought of Sunghoon seeing something and thinking of you drives you crazy; you’re in way deeper than you could ever have anticipated. 
You hear the bikes whizzing past you, zipping down the cycle path over to your left, you can see the people walking dogs, pushing strollers, jogging, walking. But it still feels like you’re the only people here. The only two people left in the world, sitting on Sunghoon’s blanket in the middle of this park you’ve come to frequent. 
“For you. Do you see anyone else here?” Sunghoon chuckles, though you can see his nervousness peeking through the joy on his face. “Well, kinda for us I guess, to put it properly. You know what? No, it’s dumb. Forget I spoke.” He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed. 
“Something for us?” Even though it’s not a new development, the thought of you both being an us, in any capacity, still makes you giddy, and the butterflies in your stomach are bordering on feral. “Baby, come on. If it’s from you it’s not dumb. I promise I’ll love it.” You nudge his knee gently.
“You promise?” 
“Promise.” Your pinky finds his, linking together for a little while longer than you’d expected. 
“There’s some stuff I have to say first though, is that okay?” he asks, continuing when you nod. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but we should probably have some kind of conversation about what’s going to happen when you go back to uni, you know?” 
The thought of leaving unsettles you; of leaving him, but you’re desperate not to show it. “Yeah,” you say, aiming for calm but hitting upset instead.
Sunghoon chews on his lip before he speaks again. “And you’re happy, right? Like, with me?” 
You nod. Of course, you want to say but the words get caught in your head, how could I not be?
“Good.” Sunghoon smiles. “Because I like you, so much, and I hate the idea of you going back and telling all your friends about the totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe you hooked up with over the summer.” He continues when you nod. “So I’ve been thinking it might be nice if, when your uni friends ask about your summer, and you feel comfortable talking about me, that you tell them about me as your boyfriend.” The uncertainty in his tone doesn’t match the widening grin on his face while speaking, and the word boyfriend comes out as nothing more than a whisper but you hear it clear as day. 
Head spinning, you meet his eyes, a hopeful glint behind them as he watches you. “Do you mean my totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe boyfriend?” 
“It wouldn’t upset me if you said that.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hold that thought,” he blurts out, opening his backpack. 
Drawing a deep breath, Sunghoon pulls out a pink box with your name written neatly on it before placing it in your lap and asking you to open it. He chews on his lip while he watches. 
WILL YOU BE MY GIRL ? is written on little chocolates that span three rows. The word girl is followed by six empty slots that you can only assume held the word friend. Between the shy look on Sunghoon’s face, and the gesture as a whole your heart leaps jaggedly in your chest. “Will you be my girl?” you read, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.
“I picked them up yesterday before the guys came over, and Riki..” he pauses to sigh, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “He ate part of them. I think he shared them with Jungwon actually — not that it matters. Anyway, the store’s closed on Sundays so I wasn’t able to replace them or anything, and I didn’t wanna wait any longer to ask,” Sunghoon says in a partial ramble. 
You look down at the pretty pink box in your hands and giggle to yourself. His friends are cute, you think. “I mean, they could’ve eaten the girl part.”
Sunghoon nods his head, grinning. “At least the sentiment still stands.” He eats a raspberry before looking up at you expectantly. “So, will you be my girl?”
With a smile spread on your face, you nod. “Yes, Hoon, I’ll be your girl,” you say, hoping he knows you’ve always been his girl. 
You cuddle in the grass with your boyfriend until the sun goes down, giddy from cider and the joys of summer romance when he walks you to your door. The two of you stand under the light at the doorstep, grinning competitively at one another. Reluctantly, Sunghoon bids you goodnight with a kiss and — just like after your first date — he stands there beaming brightly long after you’ve gone inside. 
A few nights later the two of you have your first sleepover as a couple and Sunghoon seems to take the idea in stride, showing up at your door with an overnight bag stuffed with his skincare, actual pyjamas, and snacks. Plus a bottle of wine he brought for his first meeting with your parents, despite having already had an awkward meeting with your mum at 3 a.m. in the hallway two weeks ago.
With his face glowing under the lamp on your desk, Sunghoon makes a show of bringing up the time he’d talked at length about his friends and says he thinks it only fair that you talk about yours. Your college friends. A blush coats his cheeks when you tell him he doesn’t need an excuse or justification to ask you things he’s curious about. 
This results in him sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, asking you silly things like what kind of Youtube videos you like to watch (his ears burn red when you say Park Sunghoon skating compilations), and more serious — to him — things like what your first impression of him was (he covers his face when you say I thought you were the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and it upset me that you missed so much school). 
“Do you think we would’ve dated if I was in school more?” 
“We are dating.” 
“I mean back then.”
“When we were five?” 
Sunghoon nods. 
“Even if we did date back then, we’d have broken up by lunchtime.” 
His jaw drops. “But it’s us,” he says like it’s the simplest thing ever. It takes a while to console your pouting boyfriend but when he moves on he gets back to asking about your friends. 
“They’re like.. the only reason I don’t completely regret picking my major.” The words come out before you can help them. You rarely talk with Sunghoon, or anyone, about your major, never mentioning much more than what results you got or the classes you’re taking if someone asks. 
So it doesn’t surprise you that he sees this as an opportunity to ask you about it. “Why do you hate it so much?” 
“It just makes me unhappy.” You feel your lips sagging at the corners when you finish speaking. “And the thought of working in that field forever, or, at all, makes me feel physically sick.” 
“What are you gonna do after graduation?” 
A tightness occupies your chest. You think about your brother, on the other end of the country, favouring texts over calls so no one has to hear the sadness in his voice when asked about work. You think about the future, all the unknowns awaiting you once you leave the familiarity of the education system. “I don’t.. I don’t know.” You hate how small your voice sounds when you say it.
You don’t even realise that you’re crying until Sunghoon mumbles hey, no, baby, it’s okay, and cups your cheeks with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m on your side, okay? You know that. I’m not trying to upset you, baby, just trying to understand. To help.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into him, letting you cry into his shirt. “If I’m going about it the wrong way you can tell me, I never want to make you cry.” 
For a while the two of you sit in silence while Sunghoon rubs your back and kisses the top of your head, only speaking when you’ve stopped sniffling. “How about you finish telling me about the girls? Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhuo, right?”
You don’t even remember telling him their names, besides maybe mentioning missing Minjeong. “You remember their names.” It’s not a question, not really. When you pull away from him, looking up, your heart snags in your chest at the sight. Of lovely Sunghoon and his small smile, the Kuromi headband holding his hair back. You want to cry again. 
“I remember everything you tell me.” 
Everything about him is lovely, from his soft cheeks to the Piplup pyjama pants he’s wearing and the way he’s looking at you with literal heart eyes. 
Knowing that Sunghoon has his last competition coming up, you savour every second with him. Barely sleeping that night trying to prepare for the lonely nights to come, memorising the feeling of his arms and the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 
His training schedule is rigorous and he’s had to stop his shifts at the pool to accommodate it, committing his days to skating and his nights to you when he can. Though he’s always so tired by the time he gets to your house that he can only sleepily sit through dinner with your parents and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 
Like most nights you spend apart, Sunghoon’s face fills your screen, talking about what he did that day that kept him from you. Today’s activity was back-to-back coaching sessions, then going to the movies with the boys, and, now, tired out from pretending to be patient, his eyelids are shut for most of the conversation. He looks so warm and cosy under his duvet that you wish you were there with him, or that he was here with you.
“I can come over if you want me to,” he says, and from the way he sits up, you can tell he means it. 
You hadn’t meant for those thoughts to be verbalised.
Looking to your left, at the space in your bed, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with him. Not here. You do want to see him though. Almost desperately. For the good of you both, you shake your head. “Let’s go for a drive?” 
Sunghoon smiles and your stomach turns. “Give me 25 minutes.” He cuts the phone. 
Sitting in the darkness of his car is way worse than having him in your bed. Having started on your knee, his big hand now rests on your thigh, barely an inch away from where your shorts start. A cold sweat breaks out on your skin. Leaning your head against the window, you let your eyes fall shut while Sunghoon sings SZA quietly. Eventually, the car comes to a stop.
“We’re here.” 
It’s too dark out to see anything properly until Sunghoon opens your door for you. “The park,” you say, looking around at the now familiar street. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a murder.”  
“If you think about it, it’s sorta perfect. Who would hear you screaming for help at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday?”
Sunghoon pulls his backpack and a fleecy blanket from the backseat, and, with a ridiculous grin, you watch him put the blanket down in the grass, not too far from where he’d parked the car. You leave your sandals to the side and sit down next to him. 
“The store was closed, so we’ll have to deal,” he explains, taking out some fruit and two bottles of water. 
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.” 
Sunghoon lets you feed him strawberries, humming appreciatively around your fingers. You take a few sips of water before shifting on the blanket, turning around in the space between Sunghoon’s open legs and leaning back on his chest. He hums the same SZA song from his car and you can’t help but close your eyes. 
You tip your chin to kiss him, accidentally letting your hand rest on his lap. 
Ever since that day in his room, things between you have found a way to turn sexual after a while. Not that either of you seems to mind. Though you will admit that sometimes it is nice to just sit with Sunghoon and watch the sun come up over the hills by his house. Or to watch Mighty Ducks on your laptop with your head on his shoulder. 
Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those “sometimes”, but you really can’t find it in you to complain or want to change anything when he slips his hand down the front of your shorts. More focused on the way your lips feel on his, Sunghoon lazily runs his finger through your slick for a beat before pushing into you and smiling to himself as you gasp against the kiss. 
You pull away from him, shifting around a little, trying to angle yourself so you can see what you’re doing when you tug his waistband out of the way. The sight of Sunghoon’s cock, of his pretty tip coated in precum that dribbles from his slit down his shaft never gets old. If anything, it only turns you on more and more each time. You stroke him slowly, occasionally letting a finger tease the spot below his head, just the way he likes it.
“Oh, my G—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a groan, pressing his lips to yours again.
The breeze tickles your arms, keeping you cool despite the way your skin burns under his touch. He’s close to cumming, you can tell in the way his cock twitches in your hold.
“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“You have me.” Sunghoon lifts his head away from yours after you speak, looking down his nose at you. It seems like he’s searching your face for something as he pushes a third finger into your hole. Something clicks in your head, understanding. “Fuck me,” you say, barely short of begging.
His hips buck up into your still hand. “I don’t have a condom.” 
“You’re joking.” 
“No,” he sighs, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish.” A frown teases at your lips. “Why didn’t you bring one?”
You arch a brow. “Why would I bring a condom when we’re waiting to have sex?” 
“Because I don’t wanna wait anymore.” 
“Ok,” you nod, trying to think as he separates his fingers. “Well, this is.. this is me finding that out, right now.”
Sunghoon’s never put a fourth finger in you before; it’s a tight fit. Your head falls back and you give up your poor attempt at continuing to jerk him off. “I don’t care if you don’t. About condoms.” 
“Oh, you’re on the pill?” 
“I ran out two weeks ago, I thought.. you’d give me—” A moan cuts you off. Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you’d give me notice or something.” 
“Notice?” he asks, voice high, incredulous. A beat passes. “I don’t care,” he says eventually. “I need you.” 
You nod your head, relieved. Whining a little when Sunghoon pulls his hand out of you, and whining a lot when he sucks on each of his fingers, one at a time. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning,” you say, scrambling to your knees, facing him. 
“We’ll go together.” A soft smile spreads across his lips as he holds you by the waist. “And I’ll ask Jake to pray for us.”
Hungrily, you watch as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Sunghoon has a firm grip on your shorts, barely a second away from yanking them off when he stops, leaning away. “I’ve never..” he trails off, struggling to hold eye contact. “I’ve had sex just not.. outside,” he whispers, his lips pouting through his words.
Despite your desperation, you can’t help but feel like maybe this shouldn’t be the moment you two have sex for the first time. You almost can’t believe yourself, having Sunghoon here, hot, sweaty, with his kiss-plumped lips, and lidded eyes; his groans, and his sighs; his wandering hands and hard cock pressed against you, yet thinking that maybe you should wait a little longer. 
“We don’t have to do this now.” 
“I do.”
“Okay,” you whisper, relieved, pressing your lips onto his. You shiver in Sunghoon’s hold, cold and chasing his kiss when he pulls away, shuddering at the feeling of his fingertip grazing your collarbone. 
“You’re cold, baby.” 
You shake your head. “I’m not.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your body betrays you and your teeth chatter. 
Sunghoon frowns at you, playing with some of your hair beside your ear. “You have goosebumps, and your teeth are clattering. I’ll take you home, come on,” he says, letting go of you. 
“I have goosebumps because I’m horny, and I want you to fuck me,” you admit, feeling your need for him in every part of your body. “And I don’t want you to be nice about it either, I’m already your girlfriend.” 
You watch him gulp. Sunghoon’s eyes scan your face. He leans into your touch when you let your palm cup his cheek, his skin is burning hot, if it was any lighter outside you might have been able to see the pink on his face. He wraps his thick fingers around your wrist, letting his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and his pretty eyes find yours. 
“I want to, so bad, but you’re freezing.” He kisses your palm. “How about I take you home and fuck you there, hmm? I won’t be nice, I promise.” 
Oh, God, you think, clenching around nothing. 
Dazed, you almost agree until something clicks. “Take this off,” you say, practically begging as you tug at his knitted hoodie. His brows knit together. “Let me wear it.” Without hesitation, Sunghoon pulls the jumper over his head and slips it over you. “Please, Hoon,” you all but beg, as you put your arms through it. 
The two of you are close enough that you can see his pupils dilating as his eyes trail over your body. “I like my clothes on you.” Is the only thing he says before kissing you again.
Sunghoon’s hands are all over you, eventually settling on the top of your shorts, as he does his best to tug them off. You raise your hips to help him out before settling back into his lap, whining at the feeling of him under you, touching your pussy for the first time. He throbs against you when you grind down on him.
It all seems so real now. He’s so big; so hard, that you start to worry. Suddenly you remember the ache in your jaw every time you suck him off and how much of him is left over, even when his head inches its way down your throat.
Flustered, you start to stall a little, rocking back and forth on his length, coating him in your wetness. You take him in your hand after a while, jerking him a little to spread his precum and your slick all over him. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re whiling up time, and if he does, then he doesn’t seem to care, simply moaning when you lift yourself off of him to stroke your clit with his tip and tease your slit. 
Sunghoon’s teeth worry his bottom lip as you try to take him, his head falling forward, eyes trained on the spot between your bodies where you connect. His hold on your waist is so firm you can practically feel bruises forming under his fingertips and the sting of his cock pushing into you makes you draw a breath. “Just take your time, yeah?” he mumbles. “No rush.” 
No rush? you think, he must be crazy. You don’t think you can wait any longer, trying hard to sink down on him despite the pain of the stretch. You like it, that sting, the heat, you don’t want to go without it ever again. You must be crazy. Fuck, and Sunghoon are the only things you can bring yourself to say.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he tells you. “It’s okay,” he says, though he doesn’t look like he’s doing any better than you are. 
Sunghoon’s head falls forward once you’ve taken all of him, his teeth sinking into the skin at the base of your neck as he lets out a broken whine. Everything feels a little too much to bear. It’s so hot, when did it get so hot? With the last few crumbs of your brain power, you tell yourself to take the hoodie off, but you feel like you can’t move. 
He fits so well, fills you up just right. 
With a shaky breath, he lifts his head to look up at you. “So beautiful.” Sunghoon pushes some of your hair from your face. “Good girl,” he coos, using his thumb to wipe tears you hadn’t even realised were there. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Taking me so good.”
Sunghoon asks if you’re okay. It sounds like Sunghoon asks if you’re okay.
Your fist balls around the fabric of his cotton shirt. “Warm,” you whisper. “Too warm.” He loosens his grip around your waist, moving his hands to your hips to pull the hoodie off of you. You lean back a little to let him take it off and feel as if you’re being split open, the angle only pushing him deeper. 
With the hoodie off, the cool summer breeze makes you feel a lot better; makes taking him a lot more manageable. So you move. His pretty face scrunches with pleasure, as a long, heady groan comes from his throat. “You feel so good. So tight.” There’s something in his voice that you don’t recognise, desperation, need. Sweat beads along his hairline, the flush in his cheeks so prominent you can see it despite the dark. 
You want to see him like this all the time. Need to.
His hips buck up towards you, seeming to catch you both off guard if the way you gasp simultaneously is anything to go by. He wraps his arm around your waist, his trembling hand beating against your skin, and lets his other hand rest on the blanket behind him, leaning back on it. 
“You’re so good at this,” you sigh. “How are you so good at this?” You practically clamp your mouth shut, not letting yourself say any more lest you propose to him, or worse, expose your breeding kink.
Sunghoon only gives you a languid smile before kissing you. 
It’s more than a little hard to focus on coordinating the movement of your lips and tongue when he’s fucking you the way he is; lifting you off of him so only his tip stays inside, then thrusting all the way back in, deep and slow, trying to feel every single part of you and doing a good job hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. So the kiss is messy and loud, an exchange of spit and moans but you’re way too turned on to care. 
Before long, he uses his hand to pull down the front of your vest, attaching his wet mouth to your nipple instead and your brain short circuits. He moans into your skin when you clench around him, his body stuttering under you.
“Baby, I don’t..” Sunghoon sighs, lifting his head from your chest to look at you. He’s the picture of desire, of lust, with his messy hair and parted lips, the sweat slipping from his brow bone. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he admits, thick brows pulled into a furrow.
At this rate, you don’t think you will either. His words only make you dizzy, they spur you on as desperation sets in; to see him cum, to feel it. Like always, his sounds are just as pretty as the rest of him, his grunts and his groans, and the ragged breaths that catch in his throat. And you quiver in his lap at the feeling of a knot forming in your stomach, immediately unravelling when his finger catches your clit again. 
Your head falls back. “I’m—” Is the only thing you can say.
“I know, baby, don’t hold back. I wanna see you make a mess.” 
His words send you over the edge, forcing your orgasm out of you while Sunghoon moans and fucks you through it. So good, baby, he mumbles over and over, stuttering through the words when you cum, though you barely hear him over the sound of his cock squelching up into you. 
A shaky breath and the word fuck tumbles from his lips. 
Sunghoon’s thighs tense and his stomach does the same. Shuddering under you, he cums hard, filling you up completely. You’ve never had a guy cum inside before, let alone been fucked without a condom, so you weren’t sure what to expect. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 
Heat courses through you everywhere, and you’ve never been so warm in your life. You can feel every last drop of his hot cum spilling into you, can feel it leaking out around him, slicking up your thighs. Shaking in Sunghoon’s lap, you’re full in the best way, eyes rolling back as your mind goes completely blank. 
Both of you try to catch your breath as he holds onto you tightly, his arms hugging around your waist. You’re having a hard time calming down with him still inside, but you don’t think you could move if you tried, and it seems as though he feels the same, only being able to bring his head away from your chest. With heaving shoulders and a dazed look in his eyes, he smiles up at you, sweet, contagious. Drunk on him, a laugh starts to bubble in your throat, forcing its way out. Sunghoon laughs too, and breathy chuckles slip from you both, happy, delighted. 
He reaches for some napkins, cleaning up what he can with you still in his lap before reaching for his hoodie. You watch as he folds it up a couple of times before putting it down near the blanket’s edge, shifting over a bit to hold you in his arms and lay you down, the hoodie under your head like a pillow. 
You think he must be an angel. 
Gently, he separates your legs to clean you up properly before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You watch as he looks around the space for something, returning to your feet to help you put your underwear and shorts back on, sniffling a little and making his way to lie down on the grass beside you. Sunghoon reaches over your body and uses the remaining blanket behind you to cover you up. 
Sleepily, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart race against your cheek. “You’re so big, Hoon,” you whisper, mind still reeling. 
A beat passes. “Ok, baby, thank you,” he says a little awkwardly, you can feel his chest stutter as he chuckles and you can’t help but smile.
The stars above you beam brightly and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many at once, peeking through the few dark clouds that drag lazily through the sky.
“You did so well tonight, YN,” Sunghoon tells you after a while. “You always do so well.” Your heart beats in your throat as he kisses the top of your head.
“Really?” 
“Mm,” he hums.
Curious, you look up at him. “What did I do well?” 
“Should I fill out a performance review?” 
“I just wanna know what you’re gonna tell your friends later.” Your heart rate picks up when Sunghoon laughs, sweet, contagious. “I’m serious.”
Into the air above, he huffs a long, dramatic sigh. “You really wanna know?”
“Desperately.”
He leans up on his elbow, looking down at you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, already nervous about what Sunghoon might say. It’s as if he’s the only person in the world, the only one that makes a difference. You can’t help but feel special under his gaze, grateful that you’re the one who gets his attention. His hand is big on the side of your face, his thumb grazes your cheek. 
Sunghoon opens his mouth but closes it before speaking, then brilliant, bright, he smiles. “I think I’m gonna tell them I’m in love with you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “And, ask Jake to pray for us.” 
And, ask Jake to pray for us, you repeat as if bound by a spell and he nods his head. Overwhelmed, you hide your face in his shirt. “I love you.” 
Back at your place, Sunghoon does a good job of living up to what he’d promised you earlier. Leaving you to wake up that morning in his t-shirt, with your head on his chest and a dull ache between your thighs — though not before, for the first time since primary school, you (and Sunghoon) kneeled by the side of the bed to perform the sign of the cross. He’d stumbled his way through a prayer first and you followed, watching as he sent a text to Jake before eventually drifting off to sleep, tired and sore.
The duvet is bunched at the bottom of the bed, leaving your bare thighs victim to the light breeze rolling through your room. Sunghoon’s mouth is slightly ajar and he snores sweetly. Even in his sleep, his stomach is tight and his soft penis rests cute and limp against his thigh in a way that leaves you stifling a giggle. You want to kiss it. 
Regrettably, you don’t.
“Stop looking at me,” he mumbles, half-heartedly lifting his arm to cover your eyes, though, with his still shut, it ends up resting on your neck.
“I’m not.” 
Sunghoon pries open one of his eyes, catching you. He follows your gaze down his body, groaning when he realises what you’re looking at. “You’re worse than I thought,” he says, sitting up to pull your duvet back over himself, resting over his waist. “I’m never sleeping naked next to you again.” 
You open your mouth to quiz him but he covers your lips with his hand. “Or anyone else, relax.” 
“Good boy,” you mumble, the words muffled against his palm. 
“Ew,” he whispers when you lick his hand, wiping it on your t-shirt before pushing some of your hair away from your face. “How are you feeling, baby?” His voice is soft when he asks, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“I’m kinda sore, but I’m good.” 
“You are?” There’s pride in his voice when he asks, eyes lighting up for a beat before pressing his lips together, trying to hide a smile. His broad shoulders betray him, trembling with silent laughter. Fuck off, you mumble, just as amused as him. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” 
Next time. The simple words and all of their hopefulness leave your mind reeling. Laying next to Sunghoon, you grin at the thought of all of your next times with him. Through the seasons of the year; through autumn; through winter, spring, and back to summer again. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks through a yawn. 
You love him. “I love you.” 
You’re expecting him to kiss you when he starts to lean in, but he pulls you tight against his chest instead. He smells faintly like sweat when he hugs you. Like sweat, and sunblock, and peonies. Like kisses during sunset, and late-night swims. Like the happiest you’ve been in a long, long while. 
“I love you, more.”
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sapphic-gardn · 8 months
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Dancing With The Devil
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dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.
Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!
Word count: 4.9k
a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.
Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.
Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.
“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.
“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.
While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.
The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.
You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.
“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.
An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.
The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.
You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.
Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.
“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.
“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”
You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.
“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.
“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.
Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.
You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.
When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.
“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.
“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.
Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.
No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.
“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.
Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.
“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”
“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.
Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.
“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”
“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.
“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.
“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.
With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.
“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.
Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.
Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.
When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.
“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.
Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.
“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”
“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.
“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?
“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.
Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.
The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.
Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.
“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.
“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.
He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.
Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.
“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.
The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.
“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.
“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.
The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.
Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.
He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.
Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.
You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.
With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.
“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.
You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.
“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.
“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”
Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.
“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.
“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.
When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.
“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.
The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.
Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.
“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.
You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.
Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.
He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.
Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.
Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.
“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”
“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.
“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.
Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.
As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.
“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”
“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.
Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.
You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.
“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.
You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.
“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.
A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”
a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3
taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):
@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery
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justanothervoreblog · 3 months
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A Date for Valentine's
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You would always tell yourself that Valentine's Day was for suckers. People who needed a single day to celebrate love. As if saying that made the day any less lonelier. This year, you decided to get with the holiday and put yourself out there. Luckily you managed to find someone who feels exactly the same way that you did.
You meet up with him and things are going great. If you had ever believed in the power of Cupid’s arrow, it was now. He was funny and relatable, and he knew all of your favorite bands and video games. Not to mention he wasn't that bad to look at either! Things were going so well that you decided to say yes when he invited you over. After all, your Valentine's Day was going well, so why end it now?
The good vibes continue all the way to his apartment. Although you do notice that he's unusually hungry. Odd considering you watched him swallow down three pizzas, but people were quirky like that. Besides, you are far too focused on the dirty talk that he was doing. Saying things like “I can't wait to eat you up” or “You look delicious”. One that particularly got you was stripping you down and licking every inch of your body. That one had your skin tingling!
Once you stepped out of the car, it was a blur. You don't know how two people could walk and make out at the same time but you made it work. Up three flights of stairs, pushing each other against the walls, tearing each other's clothes off, the works. Your hair was ragged by the time you had reached his door. Hot and bothered couldn't nearly describe how you felt.
Inside the door, the two of you traded kisses and hickeys to the couch. After some playful wrestling, he ends up on top of you. You are expecting more to come, but what comes next is not in your horoscope. He makes some comments about how delicious you look and how he can't wait to get you inside. You have no idea what he's talking about, frankly because you thought you would be bottoming. However, when his mouth opens wider than it should, saliva dripping down from his teeth, you realize that this wasn't just kinky talk.
What comes next is a smelly mouth and an invasive tongue. It looks over everything. Your face, your ears, the back of your neck. You pass into a tight pink tunnel, warmed by the air coming from below. The only thing you can hear is the steady gulping from your would-be date and now-turned predator. He didn't have any issue with turning you into a Valentine's Day meal. And with every gulp, that becomes more of your reality.
You don't know how long you spend in the tunnel. You pass by a very loud heartbeat as it slams in your ear. Eventually, you push past a tight ring of muscle into what had to be the smelliest place on earth. His stomach reeks of the pizza he had devoured. And soon it would reek of you. Your head, shoulders, and your upper body all slide in quickly. Your legs kick weakly on the outside and steadily more and more of your body is becoming wet and slimy.
Eventually, your shoes are taken off, that tongue wraps around your wet socks, and what's left of you in the world is gone. You feel your legs travel down his throat as you curl into a ball. With a steady thump, the date is over and the final course, you, was served. On the outside, your date rubs over his belly content with yet another helpless romantic lured in on Valentine's Day. He taught you about how love hurts and that this way you two will be together forever. Or something like that, it's muffled through the churning of the stomach walls as well as the gurgling.
As you settle into your temporary home, a bittersweet thought comes into your mind. You still weren't spending Valentine's alone. You would be with your pred, for as long as it takes for him to digest you. As the stomach walls squeeze around you and press all of the air out of the chamber, a soft smile plays on your lips. You gently pass out as that huge burp vibrates the apartment.
There were worse ways to spend Valentine’s Day.
Happy Voretine's Day ❤️❤️❤️
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rebeltarot · 3 months
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FUTURE SPOUSE ➕ VDay Special - Love Letter from your Future Spouse
“I was, and I remain, utterly and completely and totally in love with you.”
[3 piles] ・ [5 decks] ・ [29-39 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, quotes, songs]
Hello friends! It's almost Valentine's Day, and I am so excited to share this Special with you. What are your plans for this Valentine's Day? Are you spending it with a cherished person, your friends, or are you your own Valentine this year? Definitely let me know. I love holidays that bring people together which is why I dedicated a reading for it. Enjoy.
Painting: Diana and Cupid - Pompeo Batoni (1761)
Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading
18+ only - This is not a blog for minors. Warnings: Some piles have sexual innuendos.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
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© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 01 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
B, L, A, I, N, E, H, blank, 11:33, 11
Quote: Even if the stars fail to shine and the moon refuses to light up the world, I know I have nothing to fear. I have my guardian angel to look after me, care for me and love me forever and always. I love you!
Song: Love Me More - Sam Smith
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: Dear, Always by your side, I want to start a family with you, I am open to compromise, I have an offer for you, I am lost without you, It was always you, My nerves have been getting the best of me, Yeah nah, We have known each other in other lifetimes, I left because you told me to, I was in denial, You have so many choices and options, Make space for it, dance with me make me sway, I like it like that, destined, you cam to me at a time when my heart was selective, I'm a slave for your love, You don't own me, I don't wanna play no games, New beginnings, Feminine moon, Childhood, Wealth, Support, Ego death, Tower moment, Crush, Evil eyes
Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
Dear Pile 01,
To us, distance is nothing. You’re right here in my heart, and I love you more than ever. It's impossible to put into words how much I love you or to describe how you make me feel, but that doesn't stop me from trying. You are my home, the person I trust with everything. There is no one else I would rather start a family with. It could just be you and me, or mini versions of us as well. I am more than willing to compromise with you because, at the end of the day, you are all I need and want. And I am not embarrassed to say that I need you, because I do. You, to me, are a want that turned into a need. There is no going back after knowing you. I can't possibly deny myself the magic that is loving you, so I have an offer for you, and that is my love, my devotion, and my forever. It could all be yours; you just have to say the word. I am lost without you, and there is just no one else who could even compare. It has always been you. You. You. You. Lately, my nerves have been getting the best of me. Could you tell? Did you feel my anxiety? I hope not. But if you did, I find solace in our connection. Your energy feels like home. It's like history has threaded us together and made us one. I know you. And I have known you for lifetimes. I apologize for having left you. It wasn't easy, but I respected your wishes. Honestly, I was just so afraid of your rejection that I cowardly believed you when you said I should go. I was in denial. It's intimidating to see how many people see what I see in you. How many other people are willing to risk it all for you! I can't claim to not understand, though, because here I am doing the same. Your light and your energy are just impossible to ignore and unsee. But I am working on myself. I am actively making space for you and us.
There is just no one who does it like you do. Your energy and your eyes compel me to do things I had never considered before. You are the only person—no, angel—that can ever make me sway. For you, I'll second-guess everything. For you, I'll leave everything. And I like it like that. I wouldn't change it, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You have so much power over me, but I trust you. You could do anything you wanted and ask for the world, and I would give it to you. But I know that, despite everything, you will never hurt me. No, you would never take advantage of me. With you, I am safe. And with me, you are safe. We are destined, my love. There is no way around us. When we met, I was selective with the people in my life, but you just made your way into my world effortlessly. Like it was nothing. Like there wasn't any wall built around my heart. It's as if you have always belonged. And you are right; you have. I am a slave to your love. But although I am bound to you, I am still free. There is nothing about you that makes sense, and simultaneously, you are the answer to every question I have. I want to be crystal clear with you. It's you. And I have no intention to play any games or make our journey any harder. You don't have to prove yourself to me. You are enough just the way you are and exactly as you come.
I want a new beginning for us. I dream of a fresh start with you. You are my counterpart, and we are connected in every realm possible. I feel you, always. I understand you, always. I feel honored to see every side of you, and I am so blessed to learn about the wonder of the world that is you. You are a person who is so rich and abundant and so full of life that I just can't stay away from you, ever. I want to help you and support you through everything. For you, I would take on the hardest challenges and the scariest obstacles out there. If it helps you, soothes you, or even puts a smile on your face, there is nothing that could stop me from jumping without being afraid of falling. I am there for you, always. I am around you every second of the day. Because, darling, I love you. I would die a thousand deaths for you. Whatever you need me to do or whatever you need me to be, just say the word. Nothing will ever tear us apart. I love you so much that even Cupid is jealous.
Always by your side, your future spouse.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 02 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
P, E, N, T, T, O, O, C, 11:40, message/dm, sirens
Quote: I want to drown with your lips, in the ocean of our kiss.
Song: Lemonade - Internet Money, Gunna, Don Toliver, NAV
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: My dream come true, With all my love, I respect you, Let me hold you, I am absolutely in love with you, I am coming trust, I am healing my broken heart, You light up my life, Love is not fair, I have been distracted, Yeah nah, We have known each other in other lifetimes, I am lost without you, I was always you, I talk about you a lot, You are too far away, If I follow you I could lose everything, We are from two different worlds, Clarity of mind, You make me want to do better and try harder, You like me mad you think it's funny, I hear your messages in songs, Baby would you ever want to be my girlfriend, You touch me like no other, Sexual energy, Who do you love, Follow me into the dark break up a piece of your heart, I'm facing my truth, Do you want me the way I want you, Masculine Sun, Trust, Helplessness, Clash, Unwanted change, True love, Power, Child:wounded, Trauma, Confession
Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
My dream come true,
I want to get drunk in your skin, as it glistens drops of love, pouring from our sin. You are the essence of life for me. I respect you. Your thoughts, your ideas, your words, your willpower, and your intelligence. All of you! I am yearning for you; please, just let me hold you. I am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you. Darling, soon. Soon I'll be able to hold you, touch you, and breathe in your scent. I am coming; trust me. There is nothing that would ever be strong enough to keep me away from you. I am healing myself so I can be there for you wholeheartedly. My heart was broken before, but for you, I'll risk another heartbreak. For you, I'll even risk my life. Because you, my dearest of all, light up my life, my entire world, even. Although love might not be fair, when it comes to you, I'll give up everything without asking for anything in return. Lately, I have been all over the place and distracted, and I apologize. Although that is true, and although I am healing and hurting; my mind, my heart, and my energy, all of me still can't stay away from you. We have known each other for lifetimes. You are no secret to me, and I am no secret to you. Without you, I am lost. You are my guiding light, and you are the sole reason why I am finding my way back to myself. You are my only motivation and my only inspiration. It was always you, my love. There is no confusion here. No matter our pasts, it all eventually leads to us. That is the only logical conclusion. The only thing that makes sense. You and me. I talk about you often, you know. I tell everyone and everything about the wonder that is you. But you are still so far away from me. Following you could cost me everything I have. You and I are from two different worlds. Worlds that are not compatible. And although it's everything I have known thus far, I will abandon it instantly. I will sacrifice everything so I can be with you. Because you clearly do not understand that everything I have had is just a fraction of everything that you are. I am not losing. With you, I am only winning. So no, I am not sad about it. And no, I will never regret it. This is something that I will never question, and believe me, I'll make the same choice over and over again. With you, there is no confusion, no doubt, just clarity. Wherever you are is my home.
You make me want to do better. You inspire me to grow, to change, and to open myself up and be vulnerable. I am an intimidating person, but to you, that means nothing. You just laugh when I get mad because you think it's funny. And because you trust me. My god, your trust is just as sweet as honey. It's worth all the gold in the world. It's worth all that I have. We are connected, always. Even if I am not in your life right now, I can still hear your messages. You are in everything that surrounds me, but especially in the songs I hear. You are in the lyrics that capture my attention and in the melodies that move me to tears. It was never hard for you to reach my heart, because for you, there are no barriers. With you, I am open and vulnerable. Would you ever consider being with me? It's a silly question, right? But will you be my Valentine? forever? Until we both lose our breath and beyond that? Everything pulls me toward you. Like a magnet, I always find myself around you, touching you, kissing you, and pleasing you. No one heats me like you do. One simple touch and I am a puddle, water bending at your command. I have never experienced such an attraction before. I am a composed person, hardly shakable. But it takes one single look—the tiniest microexpression—and I am ready to go. I am ready to worship. Who do you love? Is it me? Will you choose to spend the rest of your life by my side? I am aware of other energies. And I have to admit that it startles me. It scares me. The slightest possibility of losing you instills fear within me that rattles my bones. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in existence puts me in as much fear as the idea, the tiniest thought, of losing you. Are you as deeply in love as I am? I want you to be. I want to touch your heart as much as you touch mine. I want to make your body ache for me as much as my body aches for you. Let's get entangled in our passion and stay here forever. I want—no, I need your love. Do you want me the way that I want you? When you are in love, in true, deep love, there is no way around facing yourself. And I am facing my truth right now, so I can be the best version of myself. You don't deserve any less than that.
I want to be strong for you. I want you to be able to rely on me. I want to provide for you. Your trust—it's the only thing I need in this life. No, your love. It's my life elixir. I am helpless without you. We're just like fire melting into ice, and I love the way that we collide. I'm pitch black, drowning’ in your light, and you are the only one who can put me in my place. You are the only person who can set my whole world on fire. My equal. And I would not have it any other way. I know that our paths to each other lead through loss and tears. You have to let go of something to be with me, just as I have to let go of everything to be with you. It's a change that neither of us asked for, but if it leads us to each other, if it leads us to true love, isn't it worth it? You are so breathtakingly powerful. A force to be reckoned with. The entire world trembles to see your beauty, your power, and your intelligence. You are the only person I trust, the only person who will ever know me for everything that I am. The good, the bad, and the ugly. It's all yours. There is no point in hiding it; you see through me so effortlessly.
With all my love, Your future spouse
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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PILE 03 ➕
Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.
CONFIRMATION
Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.
S, U, R, E, B, E, U, I, blank, 11:47, sirens
Quote: I want to make love with my tongue, and whisper kisses, through your mind, until your body comes, undone- Body language.
Song: LAW - Yoon Mirae, BIBI
LOVE LETTER FROM YOUR SPOUSE
Cards: My cherished, Devotionally yours, I don't think I ever truly knew you, I left because you told me to, I hold back because I don't want to be rejected, Other opinions have clouded my vision, I don't want to lose you, Definitely, My surroundings don't approve, I need more time, I was a fool, We are too different, I'm ready, I think we should slow down, It's ok to feel feelings, I hope we can love through the pain after the honeymoon fades, I wanna marry those eyes, Sexual energy, I don't understand, You don't own me, Baby would you ever want to be my girlfriend, don't be scared I ain't afraid, Love making, Judgement, Surprise, Withdrawal, Tower Moment, Support, Privilege
Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading. How are you spending this Valentine's Day? Your spouse has a message for you, enjoy!
My cherished Pile 03,
If there is a parallel universe, I will fight through the stars to find you. Darling, I don't think I ever truly knew you. I don't think I will ever truly know you. You are the entire cosmos, ever-changing, and it will take lifetimes, if not forever, to discover everything that makes you you. I am sorry that I left. I turned away from you and us because you told me to. And I hold back because I don't want to be rejected. Losing you once has nearly broken me; I don't think I'd be able to survive another time. There is so much noise around us. There are so many opinions and so many views that have clouded my vision. I am confused. I don't want to lose you. ever. I exist, so I can live on a planet graced by your presence. Just knowing that you are alive and well keeps me going, and it makes life worth living. Your presence humbles me to the point where just breathing the same air as you feels like a blessing. There are people in my life who are jealous of our connection. People who do not approve of us being together. I need more time to sort out all the thoughts in my head. So many doubts have been planted in my mind that I need space to clear out the clutter that clouds my vision. I was a fool. Such a fool! I regret hurting you. I loathe that I was the cause of your hurt, the cause of your tears. We are so different, yet we get along so well. I am ready for you, darling, but I think we need to take things slow. Rushing into it will only hurt us. It's okay to feel your feelings. Love, true love, evokes so many emotions in us. It makes us feel deeply, and it makes us hurt deeply too.
I hope that we can love through the pain, even if our honeymoon fades, even once you take off your rose-colored glasses. Your eyes. Oh my god, your eyes. I want to marry them. You bring me to my knees with your gaze. I have never met a person before who had me in a chokehold like you. I don't understand it, and it confuses me. When you look at me with your beautiful and hypnotizing eyes, I'll say yes to anything. Whatever you want, it's yours. You don't own me, not yet. I am not yours, and you are not mine. But would you be my forever person? Would you marry me? I know it feels like a big commitment, one that might scare you. But it doesn't scare me; it never will, because I trust you. I yearn for you deeply and passionately. I imagine us making love. I imagine you, naked, looking into my eyes and screaming my name. Don't judge me, please. I just can't help it. The pull you have on me is just as surprising for me as it is for you. I might be withdrawing right now, but it's because I need to collect my power and my energy, so I am ready for the change that is you. For the new beginning and world that you promise. I want you; I crave you. It's primal. I want to support you, I want to be strong for you, and I want to earn the privilege that is your love.
Devotionally yours, Your future spouse.
Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!
© rebeltarot 2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.
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lovebugism · 5 months
Note
hi bug!! for blurbcember, how about ❝ don’t tell anyone, but, i spiked the eggnog. ❞ where shy!reader is by herself at a work holiday party, maybe she’s new or just really shy and doesn’t talk to many people, and steve/eddie goes up to her and jokes about spiking the eggnog to break the ice and flirt with her bc he has a crush on her and wants to make her laugh 🥹 totally not based on what i wish would happen to me at my work’s holiday party lmao
ah this is so cute! :D i decided to do this one for steve so i hope you like it!! — steve harrington spends the company holiday party flirting with shy!you (friends to lovers, shy!reader, fluff, 1.9k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
The quiet mouse and the personality hire walk into an office holiday party.
It’s like the start of a really bad joke.
You try to be as enthusiastic as you can about the whole thing, but spending the last half of your day socializing with coworkers who've never looked your way before now isn’t exactly thrill-inducing. Neither is having to hear “Oh, I didn’t know you actually spoke” a thousand times over.
You just don’t want the lecture about being a team player just because you have a harder time talking than most people do. Everyone knows you’d rather be at your desk, anyway. That’s what you do best — keep your head down and get your work done.
But Steve Harrington? He’s totally in his element.
He flits around the common area with a drink and a smile, making people laugh without even trying. It’s hardly fair.
You don’t know how he does it — or why he chooses to waste his charm on you. You’re hardly deserving of his dumb jokes or his pretty smile, but he’s stuck to you like glue, anyway.
He leaves your side only once. To get you another cup of eggnog because you were too scared to cut through the crowd for seconds. “Here you go,” the pretty boy croons as he hands you the plastic cup with a strong, golden hand.
You mutter a small “thanks” under your breath when you take it from him. At least, Steve thinks you do. You’re so quiet it’s hard to make the words out sometimes.
He pushes his sweater sleeves up to his elbows — a deep evergreen with a cream stripe around the chest, lined with several little Christmas trees — and leans against the wall beside you.
He towers over you in every way imaginable. It makes it hurt not to cower when he looks your way. Most of all, when he beams at you.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks suddenly, nose scrunched and honey eyes sparkling.
Your brows pinch momentarily in confusion before going lax again. “Sure?”
He leans closer to you, his warm scent engulfing you instantly — like morning coffee and woodsy cologne. It’s suffocating, in the nicest of ways, to be this close to him. 
“Don’t tell anyone, but I did actually spike the eggnog,” Steve whispers beneath the cheesy holiday music and distant chatter, quiet enough for only you to hear. 
You laugh before you mean to. 
He laughs because you are.
“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” you joke with a shy shrug.
“It’d make this whole thing a lot more tolerable, right?” he scoffs and brings his cup to his mouth. The heavy cream of the eggnog clings to his cupid’s bow before he licks it clean again.
You get quiet for a second, momentarily lost in how pretty he is. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“I think you’re the only person I know that’d rather be working than be here.”
“Well, I’m not really a—” Your mouth opens and closes like a fish until you find the words to say. That happens a lot. It’s why you find it easier not to speak sometimes. “—A social butterfly or whatever, you know?”
“I thought you were gonna say people-person.”
“That, too.”
Steve thinks for a moment, flits his eyes to the ceiling, and juts out his pretty pink lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “Well, I don’t think that’s totally true.”
Your brows furrow. Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought. “No?”
“No,” he says confidently and with a shake of his neatly styled hair. He swipes his fingers through the intentionally messy strands. Then he shrugs. “Well, I mean, maybe. But I would say you are a Steve-person, you know?”
Your face screws up. His attempts to flirt with you don’t land.
He quickly tries to explain himself. “I just mean that— you know— that you don’t let everyone know you the way you let me know you.”
He gets all shy about it, but you think he might be right. 
Steve Harrington is more than just magnetic. He’s the kind of person that draws you in and opens you like a flower. An ounce of his attention feels like being basked in sunlight. He’s as handsome as life, too. Something holy, maybe. 
It’s his divinity that draws something out of you, you think.
“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re different from everyone else,” you shrug instead of elaborating on the dramatic religious metaphor in your head. Your gaze falls to the untouched cup between your palms. It’s easier to look at but much less interesting than the melting honey in Steve’s eyes.
He grins all sweet even though you’re not looking at him to see it.
“You mean prettier?” he jokes.
“Yeah,” you scoff and smile before you realize it. “No one’s competing with those dimples, Harrington.”
He beams. It basks you in golden sunlight. 
Something about the way he looks at you is comforting. Nostalgic. It makes you feel safe. Makes you feel brave enough to raise a trembling hand to his scruffy jaw and poke gently at the dimple in his left cheek.
“You just make it easier to talk. I guess.”
“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I love hearing you talk.”
You squint playfully up at him. “Is that because you’re usually the one talking all the time?”
He nods. “That’s exactly why.”
You laugh, and it sounds like stars falling over his skin. 
“It just feels easy to me, you know? Being around you and everything,” Steve shrugs to pretend like you don’t stir something sort of poetry in his chest. “I just think you’re cool. Exactly the way you are. And, you know, when you apologize for being too quiet or too complicated or whatever— it makes me wanna kick the world’s ass for making you feel that way. ‘Cause you’re, like, one of the best people I’ve ever met.”
For a second or more, you’re not totally sure what to say. And not in the way you usually are. This is different. This feels like there’s sunshine in your throat, and you can’t speak a word through it. This feels like being so choked up you could cry.
No one’s ever been this nice to you, you think. No one’s ever been so kind to you about the thing you hate most about yourself.
You swallow through the sun rays and muster a wavering smile.
“See what I mean?” You try to laugh, but the words get caught in your throat. You cough once to clear it. “I have to talk to you because no one else will say such nice things to me.”
“And that’s just a shame. ‘Cause saying nice things to you is basically my favorite hobby.”
You laugh again, even though he’s not really joking.
“Like, if I could get paid to do it, I’d be out of this shithole in a second.”
You smile up at him, so wide it makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. No one else could stir such a loud emotion from the quiet you are. No one else but Steve.
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jeonride · 11 months
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welcome to my reading list of minghao ficts!i'm actually so sad that i can't find more...
FICTS ! ✧*。
Avant-Garde (fluff, college au, painter!hao) by @hoyoungy
Glacial Pace (smut, friends to lovers) by @wonusite
Home Yet? (smut, established relationship) by @idyllicdeco
Felix Felicis (fluff, slytherin!minghao) by @blue-jisungs
Rush Hour (smut, enemies to lovers) by @lovelyhan
Attracted to You (smut) by @cheolhub
All Mine (smut) by @cheolhub
F* Me, Emo Boy (smut) @sunnylovespickles
Chèrie (smut, duke!minghao) by @venerex
Art Project (smut, fluff) by @1-800-hwahui
Monitor Me (smut, camboy!minghao) by @sunnylovespickles
Deadly Sin (smut, horror, demon!minghao) by @onlymingyus
Longing of a Noble's Daughter (smut, angst, royal au) by @sunnylovespickles
Oh, My! (smut) by @toruro
Now or Never The Series (smut) @heartkyeom
Bloody Kisses (smut, vampire!minghao) by @duhnova
Once Bitten (smut, contains blood) by @sluttywonwoo
Blocked Contacts (fluff, jealous hao) by @jae-bummer
Kiss Me Thru The Phone (smut) by @number1mingyustan
Wild With You (smut) by @beahae
Dress, Preview (smut) by @ally-127
Erotic Humiliation (smut) by @bitchlessdino
Wildest Dreams (smut, angst, moviestar!hao) by @rubyreduji
Zen (fluff, smut) by @playmetheclassics
Coffee at Christmas (fluff, smut) by @sluttyminghao
Playing Cupid (smut) by @sluttywonwoo
04.18 am (fluff, smut, pianist!minghao) by @number1mingyustan
Fixer Upper (smut, friends to lovers) by @seungkwansphd
Tamed Studies (minghao x male!reader) @flwrboi
Paint Me in Gold (fluff, semi royal, ghost au) by @starryse
Take it Like a Good Girl (smut, ft.mingyu) by @pussy-potions
Home for The Holidays (fluff, smut) by @bangchanswolfpelt
Wrong Turn (smut, vampire!minghao) by @meltwonu
Leave it On The Runway (smut, model!hao) by @kpop-hive
Galaxies Away (romance, angst, nerd!hao) by @dianalikecats
A Thousand Words Left Unsaid (angst, heartbreak) by @twogyuu
The Party Chronicles (smut) by @bitchlessdino
Thank You (smut, ft.jun) by @peachybun-bun
DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。
just minghao's hands appreciation (posted by @uremoangel)
minghao de-stress you with oral (fluff, smut) by @nsfwhao
soft sex (fluff, smut) by @toruro
please (smut) by @pussy-potions
kinktober drabble (smut, minghao is a sex store worker) by @sluttyminghao
fucking + praising (fluff, smut) by @gfcheol
aftercare (nsfw-ish, soft) by @gfcheol
flying & fucking (smut) by @toruro
minghao as pussy slapper (smut) by @toruro
hard dom!hao + spanking (smut) by @onlyhuis
accidental stimulation (fluff, smut) by @wildfluwer
one more time (fluff, smut) by @onlymingyus
hao kissing your tears during sex (fluff) by @toruro
light-feather praises (nsfw) by @venerex
bedtime tea (fluff, comfort) by @venerex
how i'd do? (smut) by @onlymingyus
[20:13] (filthy, iykyk) by @trash-hours
on your knees (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics
passionate sex (smut) by @sluttywonwoo
slow down, look at me (smut) by @jeongwife
freakily good with his hands (smut)
corruption kink (smut) 2nd ver
fingering (smut, fluff tho)
you have to be quiet (smut)
when it's cold outside (fluff)
that's sick ! (fluff)
fucking with your hands tied (smut)
want to see cherry blossoms (fluff)
let me take care of you (fluff, comfort)
hurry up (smut, sub!minghao)
jealous sex (smut)
minghao's kinks headcanon (nsfw)
horny dom!hao (nsfw)
fucking with racer!minghao (smut)
art exhibition (smut)
a-z nsfw with minghao
drawing body paint on your thighs (nsfw)
sucking his on kitchen counter (nsfw)
daddy sugar!minghao (smut)
my muse (smut, sub!minghao)
paparazzi!minghao (smut)
smut, 3.5k- yeah, that's it.
wake up early (very fluff, also smut)
blade of hearts (smut)
butterfly (fluff, smut)
sir!minghao (smut)
last (implied mature themes)
maniac (smut)
wanna hold your hand (smut, fluff)
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humbug-demartino · 1 year
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"Depth Takes a Holiday" [S3 Ep03]
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macfrog · 11 months
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masterlist
[artwork & moodboards are included purely for aesthetic purposes. any particular body types/skin colors/features are not representative of the mcs in my fics. reader is always a faceless girlie. she is yours to picture however you like!]
joel miller
series
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cowboy like me (dbf!joel x reader) | completed series
back home in austin after five years away, you're looking for something to do with your summer. what you don't expect, is to find that something in the form of joel miller. quietly charming, ruggedly handsome, flannel-donned joel. you know. your dad's best friend.
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sex on fire (ceo!joel x reader) | ongoing series
you've worked for joel miller for three years now, as his personal assistant. answering calls, organizing his schedule, fulfilling every request he could dream of. it pays well, you know you're good at it, and you get along with all of your coworkers. there's just one you get along with...a little too well.
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sweet child o' mine (neighbor!joel x reader) | completed mini-series
joel miller has lived next door - since forever. you’ve been a pain in his ass - since forever. one drunken night changes everything - forever.
one shots
➵ jet (post-outbreak!joel) - you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?
➵ ghost (post-outbreak!joel) - your loyalty to joel - and your ability in yourself - are tested in st. louis. the reward might just be worth the risk.
➵ call me (joel x phone sex operator!reader) - you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career.
➵ soaked (boston qz!joel) - joel jacks off in the shower. that's p much it.
➵ all three dogs (gen fic) - “dog metaphors are all about devotion, devotion to a person, a concept, a place etc, to be a dog is to be devoted.”
➵ wish you were here (jackson!joel) - you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time.
➵ psyche and cupid (jackson!joel) - valentine’s day with joel doesn’t go to plan.
➵ san angelo - it's the summer of two thousand eight. after two weeks following his little brother cross-country on the back of a harley, joel follows him through the doors of a dive bar - where fate delivers him to you.
frankie morales
one shots
➵ rack 'em (bbf!frankie) - when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend.
➵ backspin (bbf!frankie) - you try to get even with frankie. it works.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— marry me + katsukl bakugou.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — katsuki bakugou knows two things for certain. that he loves you and that he’s not afraid of anything… so why are these two simple words so hard to say?
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, high school sweethearts, proposals, pro hero!bakugou, fem!reader.
⭑ words — 2.2K.
⭑ notes — ok so this is an older commission that was clearly written for valentines day but i loved writing it and its super sweet and i think bakugou deserves some sweetness on his birthday so pls take it and enjoy!! ( thank you to @quaranweeb for letting me post!) - m.list ✩
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love is weird. 
love makes you do crazy things. 
at least that’s what bakugou thinks, standing here, in the middle of a cotton candy pink shopping aisle— bombarded with obnoxious and in your face bouquets of roses and cards with love hearts or corny messages inside. there’s an entire day dedicated to the celebration of love— rolling around every year instead of being celebrated constantly throughout. he finds it weird.
but here he is, a little lost and confused in the middle of an aisle dedicated to valentine’s day looking for the perfect bunch of flowers, the perfect card, the perfect little gift for the most perfect person who has ever stepped foot into his life. 
you.
you’re something, someone, worth indulging even on this silly holiday. you’ve given katsuki more love than he could ever ask for and more than he thinks he deserves. so, of course he’d want to spoil you with his big plans today, even if they make him nervous or cause a burning bright red blush to spread across his cheeks and neck just at the thought of them. big plans on the day that couples play charades and pretend that they’re happy for the sake of social media. pretend that they’re like you and him— eternal, well and truly in love. 
katsuki bakugou used to hate valentine’s day , never believed in the commercialisation of it all— nor the kids in class squealing over who had gotten love notes or little chocolates in the shapes of hearts and cupid’s arrows. it almost embarrassed him, to have people he’d never met fawn over him and confess their affections towards the blonde. he didn’t deserve it, he had always thought. 
loving someone isn’t supposed to fix you, it’s not a tool but instead something beautiful to be shared. yet somehow, on that valentine’s day all the way back in katsuki’s third year, you’d mended him. put a bandaid on his broken heart and healed him when you confessed your admiration for him— how strong he was, how brave he was despite all that he’d been through. your speech had been heartfelt, not superficial, meaningful in the way that made the blonde feel like his soul was being seen for the first time. 
you’d taken his hands, albeit a little sweaty, under one of the winding trees outside of the U.A dorms and said. ‘i like you, katsuki, even if you don’t feel the same— or can’t say it back. i want you to know that i like you.’ there was no pressure in your voice or whiny insistence like the other’s who had been in your position…even back then katsuki had known you would love him for the rest of your life if given the chance. and he had known it too, murmuring his mutual feelings back to you under the grumbles that sat heavy on his tongue.
from there, he’d opened up a little more— accepted kisses from your sweet lips without flinching away again and craved the type of hugs where you buried your face into his chest because the scent of him comforted you. you embraced the cold together, passionate embers of your young romance keeping you warm for years to come, and now the chilly month of february has become his own solace. it holds his happiest memories, most of them pertaining to you.
but even after many years down the line with handfuls of valentines days underneath katsuki’s belt— he still stands in the middle of the cotton candy themed aisle, a diamond ring burning a hole in his pocket as he freaks out. he’s on the verge of tearing his hair out, deliberating on which flowers you might like the most for today. this day. the one that could determine the course of your lives together.
bakugou needed this day to be absolutely flawless. he’d ordered cheeses straight from italy and fruits from some of the highest rated farmers’ markets in japan just to make sure his girl got the best of the best. he’d even called up your mother from your hometown, asking her for the recipe to that strawberry shortcake you could never stop raving about. the cake that reminded you of summers back home before the chaos of high school and your pro hero career alongside the booming dynamight. 
‘you’re good to her, katsuki,’ your mother had praised him over the telephone line just hours prior, the blonde could practically hear her faint smile. ‘please, keep her happy. look after my little girl.’
it’s only after he remembers those words, that katsuki decides on a beautiful arrangement of calla lilies, tulips and peonies— the symbols of romance, a declaration of his love to you. 
nothing in this life is promised, but the blonde swears he’ll do his best to look after you just like your mother had asked. 
for as long as you both shall live.
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“suki,” you breathe, hand on your beating heart, looking up at your boyfriend fondly. “what’s all this?” 
the minute you’d stepped in from work, dropped your duffel bag and locked the door behind you— scarred, rough yet tender hands had guided you deeper into your shared apartment only to arrive at a candlelit dinner set up in the centre of your tiny living room. bakugou rubs soothing circles into your bare arms, traces his infield and the shape of a heart around them before he speaks— his chest warm against your back while he towers over you. 
“made dinner,” he rasps against the shell of your ear, kissing just under it with the ghost of his lips. 
you turn your head then— away from the flickering candle wax flames and up into the heat of his vermillion eyes. a blistering shade of red like the colour of romance. “i can see that, suki,” you tease with a coy smile, as if you’ve already found him out. “you usually do. but this is…it’s just… it’s pretty. is there some sort of special occasion?” you’re right, he may have gone overboard. 
your special selection of flowers sits at the centrepiece of the table draped in a linen tablecloth, pink wax candles and the finest silverware accent the set up and of course— your favourite slow song plays in the background, it’s mellow tune vibrating in the air around you as you sway with your boyfriend under the warm yellow light. 
the way you stare up at him knowingly has the big bad hero in a shambles. you’ve always been able to get him like this— flustered and shy, shades of rose blossoming on his cheeks like that of a spring bloom. katsuki grumbles with faux annoyance, pinching your side harmlessly. “i just wanted to look after you, spoil you a little since you always take good care of me.”
your all-knowing expression shifts to one of adoration, the creases in your features softening as they’re masked with love for your blonde boyfriend. “oh, suki!” comes your swooning sigh before you stand on your tiptoes and do your best to reach up so you can plant a smooch on his cheek. bakugou grants you some mercy, bending down so you can reach him— long, curly lashes fluttering against his sun-spotted cheeks at your silent ‘i love you.’ 
he still can’t get over that, how much you love him— how you make sure to let him know that you do, in every single way possible. big or small.
“you wanna eat with me or not, princess?” he asks shyly, bristling with happiness when you kiss him again to show your agreement. 
the explosive pro hero is quick to take the rest of your things and have you seated, falling to his knees to undo your work shoes as he places loving kisses from your ankle up to your hand— more specifically, your ring finger. bakugou knows that you’re staring at him while he dishes up your three course meals. you’ve told him before, you loved to watch him cook— it’s the way his arms move and his lips twist into a concentrated pout and his gaze stays honed in on every movement of his knife against the chopping board. 
you’ve told him you admire him. you’ve praised him for every dinner he’s ever put in front of you— tonight is no different. over the orange-yellow hue of the candles, content lights up your pretty face with each mouthful you take of each course. your face twitches with excitement, doing a little jiggle of happiness when bakugou serves you up another plate— playing footsies with your boyfriend under the table all at the same time. when he sets the strawberry shortcake in front of you, you practically shiver with delight and latch onto katsuki’s hand to give it a squeeze. another silent i love you. even as you babble on about your day, your load of interns straight from U.A and how you’d had to clean up their messes. 
and even though you vent between bites of food, bakugou having to wipe the corner of your mouth with a gentle swipe of his thumb— there’s nothing but a motherly smile on your lips and a caring tone laced into your voice while you talk about them. you love your job and your students; you take care of everyone around you and it only makes the blonde want to pamper you more— make sure you’re cared for too.
katsuki is confident in his career as dynamight, as a hero and as your boyfriend— but cowardness creeps into his veins and he forgets about the ring in his pocket all throughout dinner. it was meant to be a big surprise for the end of it all, but every time he looks at you, his heart drops to his stomach or beats so fast he thinks it might tear a hole through his chest. you end up washing the dishes together, fingertips brushing beneath the cherry-blossom scented and soap sudded water in the sink. a tingle runs down bakugou’s spine whenever your hands touch in the slightest, your delicate fingers passing him wet dishes while he dries them for you. 
he can only hope for more sweet scenes of domesticity with you, he dreams of them throughout his day and when he lies next to you at night. katsuki bakugou is so in love with you it feels like he’s suffocating, like he’s desperate for air because all he wants to breathe in is you. all he wants to taste is you. all he needs is you. 
you’re still chattering up a storm, washing the last of the cutlery when the blonde hero drops to his knees a second time, fumbling around in his pocket for the ring.
“marry me.” bakugou whispers, so quiet that you almost miss it underneath the volume of water sloshing about in the sink and your own ramblings. 
“so anyways i was thinking about getting either you or izuku to help train up my interns some— wait what?”
swallowing thickly to level his strained and shaking voice, bakugou tries again. “marry me,” he repeats simply, forgetting his big speech and all of his words about forever, always and perfection. instead he holds out the engagement ring for you to see, smiling slightly as its glint matches the shimmer of fresh and surprised tears in your eyes. “i love you.” 
you nearly drop the soapy glassware you’d been rinsing off, letting katsuki pry it away from your unstable grip before you cup your own face. “b-bakugou! k-katsuki! i mean suki,” comes your reply, each name clinging to the ridges of your throat as your emotions choke you up. “are you serious? w-what are you doing on the floor? get up! k-katsuki bakugou, you better not be playing with me! stand up!”
but bakugou does not budge, setting the wine glass on the floor beside him carefully before he takes your hand with the same amount of care and slides the diamond ring onto the correct finger. “marry me. aren’t ya hearin’ me right? i love you, there’s no one else who’s loved me like you— maybe that’s a selfish reason t’want to marry ya…” his lips, though slightly chapped, brush over your knuckles with each word as if to seal them as an eternal promise into your skin. “but i’m in love with you. always have been. always will be…a-and i wanna spend the rest of my life by your side. so marry me. i love you.”
there’s a moment, a quiet one, where it feels like you’re the only two people in existence before you launch yourself at your boyfriend— swatting at him until he falls back onto his butt and you're able to crawl between his legs. you grab at his cheeks, the metal band of your ring cool against his handsome face as you tug katsuki into a slow and passionate kiss, pouring every word you can’t think to say into it. 
when you pull apart there’s soap suds lingering on his golden skin and a look of adoration etched across the slope of bakugou’s features. you take a moment to admire him, tears free flowing, blood rushing through your ears carrying happy hormones and whisper back— 
“i’ll marry you, stupid. i love you, too.” 
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welcometomyoasis · 6 months
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⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ welcometomyoasis masterlist
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ key:
✯ f (fluff) | a (angst) | h/c (hurt/ comfort) | h (humour) | s (suggestive content) | r (reactions from asks) | psa (please read warnings carefully)
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✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ series:
✯ thinking about you series | ongoing ✯ _____________ | coming soon... in collaboration with @brownsugarbaybee
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☾⋆。𖦹 °✩ ot13 posts:
✯ who in seventeen would kiss you on the first date | f ✯ seventeen as types of note takers | h ✯ seventeen as university students | h ✯ who in seventeen would take a trip spontaneously | h ✯ seventeen with a doe eyed s/o | f ✯ romantic(?) pickup lines with seventeen | f ✯️ how seventeen would take care of their sick s/o | f ✯ letting go, holding on | a, s, h/c ✯ haunted house adventures with seventeen | f ✯ how seventeen would support their s/o during exam season | f, h/c ✯ seventeen as panda pictures | h ✯ how seventeen would react to your joints cracking | f, h ✯ seventeen as life's impactful moments | f, h/c ✯ seventeen with an s/o who works on an animal farm | f ✯ seventeen as life's comforting moments | f, h/c ✯ how seventeen would hold your hand | f, h/c ✯ seventeen's reaction to their s/o crushing it on the water obstacle course | f ✯ seventeen's reaction to their s/o being in the same variety show as them | f ✯ seventeen doing the cupid's chokehold trend | f ✯ seventeen with a poet s/o | f ✯ beach house holiday with seventeen | f ✯ seventeen's reaction to their s/o appearing on going seventeen | f ✯ seventeen's reaction to their 14th member being female | f, a ✯ seventeen when you are on your period | f, h/c ✯ seventeen with an s/o who is book smart but not street smart | f, h/c ✯ seventeen's reaction to having a silver tongued s/o | f, a ✯ seventeen with an s/o who experiences hyperfixation | f, h/c
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩ unit posts:
✯ seventeen with a chubby s/o ❧ hip hop unit | vocal unit | performance unit | f, h/c
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ individual members:
seungcheol
✯ The number one period essential, Choi Seungcheol | f, h/c ✯ Fireflies with you | f, h/c ✯Forever and always | f, h/c
jeonghan
✯ Capybara | f ✯ What Jeonghan would do if you needed to breastfeed your baby in public | r ✯ Don't worry, for our souls are forever intertwined | poly! jihan | f, h/c ✯ sentimental | f
joshua
✯ Don't worry, for our souls are forever intertwined | poly! jihan | f, h/c ✯ Petrichor | f, a ✯ Food tastes better in cute shapes | f ✯ Being Joshua Hong's passenger princess | f
junhui
soonyoung
wonwoo ✯ There's nothing tea can't fix | f, h/c
jihoon
dokyeom
✯ You are enough | a, h/c
minghao ✯ To all the love letters I wrote but never sent | f
mingyu
✯ 02.08am | f ✯firefighter neighbour! mingyu headcanons | f ✯firefighter boyfriend! mingyu headcanons | f
seungkwan
✯ You are exactly where you need to be | psa, a, h/c ✯ raindrop races | f
vernon
lee chan
✯ 17 | f
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‧₊˚✩彡 events:
✯ 100 followers event | masterlist
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©welcometomyoasis2023
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