#i actually need to clarify i will not like yell at you or anything if you hate ford. i will not actually hate you. unclench ur jaws

[zreamy]

spf 23

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?

genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..

warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon

word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.

playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande

author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy <;333

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.

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.

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. 

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.”

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[adventuringblind]

Joint Coping

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst

Dialouge: "Help me understand."

Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways

Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group

Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)

This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).

Masterlist

Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.

The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.

He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.

They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.

He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.

"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"

"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"

There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.

"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."

"Thanks Carlos."

Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.

He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.

He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.

He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.

He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.

They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?

God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.

"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."

Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?

"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.

He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.

"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."

"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.

First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.

The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.

They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.

"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."

"It's just easier this way."

"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."

He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.

The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.

He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.

Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.

He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.

And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.

[borealalice]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

[rogueddie]

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four

For the next three days, Steve spends all his time hanging with El.

It's fun. She makes a little routine, once they find things they both enjoy, and does the best she can to make sure they're both happy. Steve is only confused when Hopper acts like she's really young- he can see how mature she is. She's practically a grown up!

It's calm, quiet, repetitive. That's why, when Hopper bursts inside one day, he's startled.

He's not supposed to be back for a while yet.

El is up, immediately, with a dark expression- like she's gearing up for battle. "What is it?"

"The Harringtons are home," Hopper says as he grabs some of the things the group had gathered, temporarily belonging to Steve. "They were asking too many questions. It's not safe for him here."

"Where will he go?"

"Munson said they can make room. They'd never think to look for him there and, knowing him, kid can probably hide him better than us."

El nods, satisfied, moving to help bag Steves things.

"Am I in trouble?" Steve finally asks.

"Not if I can help it," Hopper mutters.

"You are not in trouble," El quickly clarifies. "We are trying to make sure you are safe and happy. Eddie can do that for you, now that we can't. He cares for you. It will be ok."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Neither let him help them get things together for him, reassuring him that they can take care of it- of him. El tries to include him, quietly asking him to get his yellow sweater.

But, soon, they're speeding out and and away from the little cabin that Steve has grown to love.

With how small and cramped it is, it felt so homely. Cozy. Lived in. Every corner is used for something, so many little signs of love and family- from the dishrack distant enough from the sink for two people to wash and dry, to the polaroids of El and her friends stuck to the walls.

It's why, when they pull into the trailer park, Steve feels hopeful.

The door opens, as soon as they stop, Eddie darting out to meet them in the middle. He grabs the bag, crouching a little to scoop Steve up and hold him on his hip, the same way Robin did.

"I got him," he says, reassuring. He looks too frantic for it to be convincing. "Go."

"Keep your radio on," Hopper replies. "Stay safe, kid!"

The engine starts up, pulling out and away, before Eddie can even step inside the trailer.

Another man is there, lounging on the sofa- he offers a small wave when he notices Steve looking, voice low and warm when he says; "hey kid, you alright?"

Steve nods, a little too nervous from the rush and new place to speak.

"I'm gonna get him set up in my room," Eddie explains, as he starts towards the hallway.

"Yell if you need anything!"

"That's my uncle," Eddie explains, as he steps inside the end room. Theres marks and tack on the wall, where posters used to be displayed but since taken down. "He's a big ol' softie, don't worry. He's gonna love you."

It takes Steve a moment to notice that the matress is the only bed in the room.

"Stay out of this draw," Eddie says, snapping his fingers to get Steves attention. He glances at the drawers, before patting the top. "Actually, don't go in any of these. Out of bounds, got it?"

"Out of bounds," Steve repeats, nodding.

"I'm gonna have to hang these up with my stuff," Eddie continues, opening his wardrobe. "Or... in this little box? Yeah, that's perfect, I'll just put them in here."

The box is sat at the very bottom, not too high and out of Steves reach.

"Uh... my guitars, too, don't touch them."

"I won't touch your things without asking."

"Thanks. But that's all, I think. Any questions?"

"Where am I sleeping?"

"There." He points to the mattress.

"Oh... where will you sleep?"

"The sofa. Wayne and I have a whole schedule figured out. It's a pull out bed, don't stress, it's fine."

"But your bed is here."

"And you're sleeping here."

"But it... you should sleep here. It's your room."

"Would you rather share?"

Steve looks to the mattress. It's not big, barely more than a single, but he's still small. Eddie is thin.

"Yes?"

"Boys!" Eddies uncle calls, before Eddie can reply. "Food!"

"We'll talk more at bedtime, alright?" Eddie offers.

Dinner is a quiet affair. Eddie seems uncomfortable the entire time, eventually admitting that they don't usually sit down for dinner- but Wayne quickly points out that they used to, when he was a kid. He points out that Steve deserves a nice family sit down too.

Steve struggles to keep him mouth shut, face neutral, at that. Despite only just meeting the man, the ease at which he offers his home and family is... Steve isn't sure. But it makes his stomach squirm, full of warmth and affection.

Most of the day is spent in front of the TV. Eddie is the only one really watching though- Wayne spends most of the time teaching Steve how to play cards.

The sky is turning dark with the setting sun when someone starts frantically pounding at the door.

"Where is he?" A familiar voice asks, when Eddie finally answers the door. "Hop said he's here, right?"

"He's here, come on."

Wayne gestures for Steve to come back out the little cupboard Eddie hard pointed to, for him to hide in.

"Steve," Robin sighs, crouching down so she can pull him into a painfully tight hug. "Are you ok? How are you doing? Do you need anything? Are you safe here? I can-"

"Buckley," Eddie snaps. He's smiling though, playfully smacks her shoulder. "He's fine, we're taking care of him."

"Good, that's good," she says, voice distant. She's too distracted, looking him over. She pauses when she lifts his hand, spotting the nail polish. "Oh, wow. These are, uh... really pretty. I didn't know you could paint nails so good."

"El did them," he quietly admits. He glances from Wayne to Eddie-

Who holds up his own hand, showing the black nail polish he's wearing.

"Not as cute as your yellow, but hey, black is my color."

"Black isn't a color, dipshit," Robin snorts.

Steve looks to Wayne, who wiggles his eyebrows when Eddie and Robin start bickering- which quickly devolves into playful wrestling.

"Ed," Wayne says, clicking his tongue. "Time."

"Oh, fuck," Robin replies, jumping up. "I have to go."

"So soon?" Steve frowns.

"Aw, don't give me those eyes, I have to! I wasn't meant to go out at all. I'll come back tomorrow, ok? I'll figure out something we can do. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Once Wayne has seen Robin out, he turns to Eddie with a raised brow. "Time for Steve to sleep, Eds."

"It's only-"

"Ed."

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Come on, big boy."

Standing in Eddies room, they both stare at the mattress. Steve turns to him, hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes, grumbling, "alright, fine, we'll try both of us. But don't whine when we don't fit or you're uncomfortable!"

He continues grumbling, as he digs through the wardrobe and some drawers, muttering about how he hasn't had to wear a pajama set for years.

Steve points to the bed, once they're both changed; "you get in first."

"Bossy."

Once Eddies laying down, Steve crawls in beside him, curling up to his side the way he does with his mother. It's so rare that she'd let him spend a night cuddled with her, but it's always brought so much comfort.

He's surprised that it's no different when it's Eddie that he's cuddling up to- he thinks it might be better. There's no complaints about sharing space with him, rather about the space.

"Is this ok?" He has to ask.

"Yeah," Eddie mumbles, shifting a little, arm curling a little tighter around him. "Yeah, it's alright."

tag list (if you want taking off lmk x) : @songbird-garden @str4wb3rry-guy @badcaseofcasey @lioniheart @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @newtstabber @messrs-weasley @vesme @penny00dreadful @ratboybubs @ocapmycap @ellietheasexylibrarian @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @little-trash-ghost @lazyavenuewhispers @paintsplatteredandimperfect @mightbeasleep @anaibis @sleepyboosstuff @thesuninyaface @morpheusmunson @notfrogsunderatrenchcoat @novelnovella @tartarusknight @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @malicia62 @tencents121 @lightwoodbanethings @steddie-steddie @dragonmama76 @weirdandabsurd42 @lenathegay @theequeervibes @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @g4ys0n @subversivecynic @bleedingoptimism @eyesofshinigami @disrespectedgoatman @skiddit @chaoticlovingdreamer @estrellami-1 @chrystal-lovee @m-owo-n @fandommaniac123 @jackievsn @greekgeek24 @ajeff855

[ryker-writes]

TWST characters as ✨best friends✨ (Diasomnia Edition)

What would it be like being friends with them? Come and find out! I offer my thoughts on what they would be like so I'm sorry if some of the characters are a little Ooc. Some characters I don't know as well but I'll certainly try!

Malleus:

he's so happy

he treasures you a lot

sure he has Lilia, Silver, and Sebek but it's different because they have to stay close to him to protect him

if you're upset, he's upset

will do literally anything to make you happy all you have to do is ask

and I do mean anything

he's great for fixing any problem you have

most of his solutions involve magic

if someone's bothering you, oooo they will regret it

as soon as you tell him there is thunder immediately

how dare someone bother his best friend

he won't be violent with them but at most he will threaten them

trust me, that's enough to scare them off

he's also a great person to study with

especially for magic classes and magical history

Malleus will love to talk to you about gargoyles too so please listen

he will be so happy if you actually pay attention

also please bring him along to events even if they're small

he won't voice it but he will be upset if you don't

Lilia is happy that Malleus has a good friend

Sebek has mixed feelings about you tho

like on one hand you're acting so casual and disregarding how powerful Malleus is but you make Malleus happy and Malleus will be upset if Sebek yells at you

Lilia:

he loves to mess with you

Lilia will often hang upside down and randomly appear around you to try and scare you

if you don't scare easily, that only makes him more determined

and if you do scare easily, he will do it more often

there's no getting out of it

very good at solving all your problems

he has a lot of life experience so he's great at giving advice on what to do in any situation

and if someone is bothering you he can talk to them

his talk with them will start off friendly enough but if they don't cooperate he will start threatening them

he's a great person to talk to about anything

he has vast knowledge about many things so he most likely will know about anything you talk to him about

prepare to be teased a lot

and he will try to make you food often

so......good luck

Silver:

probably the calmest friend out of everyone

don't get me wrong, if someone is bothering you or if you have a problem he will take it seriously

he will step in to help you whenever you need him

wouldn't really get hostile unless your safety was at risk

you can talk to him about anything and he will try to listen

please don't be upset with him if he falls asleep while you're talking

he really tries to listen especially if it's something important

but he does pay attention to the parts he catches before he falls asleep and will ask if you still want to continue the conversation when he's awake

Silver falls asleep in inconvenient places sometimes so please help him

just move him so he's not in people's way and maybe try to wake him up

you may also want to help him with whatever he was doing before he fell asleep

you get to see so many small animals around him

the birds and squirrels may start accepting you too

Lilia is happy his son has a friend like you

and so Lilia will try to make you food

Silver will eat the food so you don't have to

Sebek:

I really hope you aren't sensitive to loud noises

he's loud, but a good friend

I mean if someone is bothering you he will obviously confront them

they will be very confused when Sebek comes at them yelling and they don't understand what he's saying but it will somehow work

if you're having a problem he will do his best to help you find a solution

and if he can't think of anything he'll turn to Lilia for advice

Lilia will give good advice but if Sebek doesn't clarify that it's serious and not his problem, Lilia may give him misleading advice to prank him

but if that happens then you get a hilarious distraction from your problem

be aware that if you ask for his opinion on something he will give it to you honestly and directly

he will talk for hours about Malleus if you let him

and he would be really happy if you do

you will know a lot about Malleus even if you haven't met him

and if you do meet Malleus, Sebek will hold you to the same expectations as everyone

but if you pay really close attention, you can tell he's not yelling at you as much as he would others

[highonmarvel]

Helloooo! Can i please request an au where the reader has had a few toxic relationships and she’s trying to distract herself by those by starting her own business, turns out bucky or steve are an interested investor but they never really wanted her business and just her and somehow trap her into an arrangement…Sorry if it’s too specific! 💖💕💞💗⭐️

oh, this is such a good idea, i hope i did it justice!

HR

Bucky Barnes: Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes. 18+!

Dub/Non Con Warning!

additional content warnings here!

You yawn as you close your laptop, finally done with payroll for a small nursery school a few neighbourhoods over. Who knew Grade R teachers could have such horrible internal affairs?

You heart skips a beat as the lights flicker momentarily, and you worry your electricity will be cut off, but they stabilise, and you sigh in a relief, hand over your heart.

When you left Tony, he made sure you lost your friends, and your job, and your income has been less than minimum wage, you’re barely even scrapping by. You had been through this before, boyfriends trying to ruin your life—Thor, most notably—but you had to give Tony credit for really crippling you this time.

You weren’t able to get any office jobs again, having to settle on working for a sweet old woman in a small flower shop, which was kind, but it didn’t come close to paying your bills. Still, you refused to let Tony win; you had good qualifications; you had a bachelor in HR and nearly a decade of experience, and that no one would hire you didn’t stop you.

You started your own HR consultancy, an idea you to had spoken about to a friend a few times, but you were sure Tony had took care she never even looked at you again, so you did it alone, which would be way too much for a single person, except business was slow; but, make no mistake, you worked your ass off.

The nice thing about the flower shop is the sweet old lady allows you to hand out your business card to the few customers that come in. Only four or five people had actually taken it in the time you’d been working there, and reluctantly, at that.

You drag yourself to bed and crash pretty much immediately.

As usual, the morning is pretty much empty—one woman comes in but buys nothing and another stares through the window for 10 minutes—until around midday, when the air shifts.

The bell at the top of the door pulling your attention from your daydream and to a familiar-looking, tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a nice suit, which he adjusts the cuff of as he scans the room. His eyes meet yours and he smiles. You return the smile with a, “Welcome to Miss Roe’s Flower Shop. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Though his mouth doesn’t twist, his eyes glint with something odd, making his initially warm smile seem more sinister.

“Anything I can help you find in the store?” you feel the need to clarify.

He only asks you for the red roses, which you point to and he returns to the counter with a bunch.

“Romantic,” you mutter as you ring him up, and he chuckles, softly and, seemingly, sweetly.

You hand the bouquet back to him, and he plucks a rose from it and hands it to you, “A beautiful lady like yourself deserves one,” he winks, and you blush, stuttering out a thanks as you take it.

Just as he takes a step back, you yell out, “Wait!” louder than you intended, and slightly startling him, “Sorry,” you apologise, as you slide one of your business cards off the top of the stack and hand it to him, slightly nervous for some reason. He takes it curiously and scans over it.

“HR?” he asks, “Wouldn’t have thought it.”

You don’t really have to time to process that comment, let alone come up with a response before he continues, “Perfect timing, actually, I’ve been needing help in that area. I’ll give you a call, he smiles as he pockets the card, “Oh, and,” he reaches out a hand, “I’m James Barnes.”

That’s where you know him from! Barnes Industries, one of the most advanced tech companies in North America, and the CEO is interested in having you on his team.

You give him your name as you shake his hand.

“It was nice meeting you,” he says with a determined smile before slipping out the door.

Back home, in the kitchen, you’re not sure if he’s actually is going to call, especially when it’s approaching 19h00, maybe he was just being nice. He did seem a bit flirty… but maybe you imagined it, why would he want anything to do with you? And if he were being flirty, he surely wouldn’t then hire you.

You jump as your phone rings, nearly spilling boiling water all over yourself. You set down the pot and rush to the living room where your phone is singing and vibrating on the couch.

“Hello?” you answer, slightly breathless as you rest the device on your ear.

A female voice asks if this is the number for your HR Consultancy, to which you affirm.

“Please hold.”

You press your phone against you harder, heart beating a little faster as you bounce on your toes, waiting on hold with some generic elevator music doing nothing to soothe your nerves. After nearly five minutes, you’re ready to hang up when a voice answers.

“Good evening, I’m sorry for the late hour.”

“Mr Barnes!” you exclaim, before clearing your throat and sitting down, speaking in a lower, more professional voice, “It’s no issue at all, sir. Can I help you?”

“Would you mind coming in for a meeting? 8AM sharp tomorrow. I understand if you’re working—”

“I’ll be there,” you reply a little too enthusiastically, walking over to your desk to pick up a pen and pull out your notepad, “8AM, I’m assuming at Barnes Industries?” You take down the address he gives you even though the huge, skyscraper-tall building with a giant B and a rocket logo is pretty hard to miss.

When you hang up, you can’t help but jump up and down excitedly like a schoolgirl. Finally, your luck is turning around.

You straighten your skirt as you step into the building, grateful the sweet old lady had not only given you the day off, but been super supportive, convincing you would you get the job, and that settled your nerves slightly. Only slightly, though, as you walk up to the desk where a red-haired woman sits, looking alert, but a little bored.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“Good morning, I’m here to see Mr Barnes,” you say, and then give her your name.

At the mention of your name, her eyes widen and she quickly stands, “Of course!” she says, “Right this way.”

Her heels click on the pristine white floors as she leads you to a fancy elevator and presses the button for the top floor.

“Should I be nervous?” you ask, trying to make conversation as each floor ticks by too slowly for your liking to get to the 60th.

She laughs politely and shakes her head, leaning in and speaking lower (despite only the two of you being in an-already small space), “For anyone else, I’d say yes, but Mr Barnes has been looking forward to your meeting; I think you’ve got a real shot. In fact, I think he’d pay anything you ask.”

She pulls away and raises her eyebrows at you.

Your mouth falls slightly open but you quickly close it and gulp lightly, tearing your gaze away from her to focus on a spot on the floor just in front of the doors. You don’t know if she’s exaggerating, you assume she has to be, because how could Mr Barnes even know if you were good at your job? For all he knows, you work in a flower shop and hand out cards for subpar services. Somehow, her words make you more anxious than they are comforting.

The doors finally open and she points you to the room at the end with big double doors.

“Good luck!” she smiles, and you watch the doors shut, the numbers go down for a few floors, and you’re left on your own.

You take a deep breath and turn back to face the apparently never-ending passage. You walk down the corridor in timed rhythm, counting 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4 until you reach the end on a 2. You knock on the door and are met with a “Come in,” from a masculine voice.

You slowly open the door, resisting the urge to peek your head in first like a child.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” you smile, speaking cheerily but still professionally.

“Ah, there she is!” he says as he stands from his desk and walks towards you, and for some reason now you really take note of the height-difference.

He gently grips your shoulders and kisses you on the cheek, to which you stiffen slightly, but try to cover up before he notices. His hands move to your waist and he leans in; you almost sidestep him thinking he’s trying to do… something else, but he only locks the door behind you, and you can’t tell if that’s better or worse than what you were expecting.

Your nerves flare up again, but in a different sense than if you were just going in for a job interview, adrenaline starting to prepare like you’re in danger. But you’re not… right? You’ve had dozens of interviews. You assume this time it’s just more scary because it’s with James Barnes himself.

“Nervous?” he asks as he steps back and gestures to a comfortable-looking leather armchair on the other side of his desk.

“A little,” you admit with an anxious and breathless laugh. He gives you a reassuring smile as he turns to a shelf behind him.

“Don’t be,” he says as he fixes himself a drink, “Whiskey?” he offers, “5PM somewhere and all that.”

You politely decline, and he settles into his seat across from you with his drink in hand. He takes a sip and sets the glass down to set his gaze on you, and you resist the urge to shift uncomfortably under his stare… it almost seems like he’s preventing himself from sizing you up.

“Why did you start your business?” he asks, “Honestly.”

“Well, I’ve been in HR for a while now, always had a passion for it, but I wanted to be more independent, and a little more flexible.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Honestly.”

“And I…” you don’t know why you say it, but you do, “I’ve had bad experiences with boyfriends in the past—and, please let me know if I’m being too unprofessional here, sir—”

“Bucky.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“All right… Bucky,” you smile, “I’ve had my most recent ex boyfriend try to ruin me; he got me fired, and no serious white collar will hire me, but I’m good at what I do, and I refuse to let him stop me from using my knowledge and expertise.”

“Tony Stark, is your ex, I take it?”

Your blood runs cold, and you deflate slightly, “Yes,” you sigh, “He is, and… and he treated me horribly, I couldn’t take it anymore, and even when I’m not with him, he still finds away to make my life hell.”

“I don’t trust that sleaze. In fact, anything he says, I do the opposite. I know you’re good at what you do, I can see your passion…”

You smile, relieved he believes you.

“… and I have a passion for you.”

You freeze, so your smile is still intact, “I’m sorry?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, sure you misheard him, but how could you have?

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I’ve been feeling, and you’re smart enough to know you’ve been suppressing your mutual attraction, but maybe too naïve to understand intentions.”

“Mr Barnes—”

“Bucky,” he corrects.

“Bucky, I—”

“I’ll pay whatever you want.”

You nearly snap at him, want to tell him you’re not for sale, but you stop yourself. You really, really need this job, you can’t afford to live another month.

“I know you need this job,” he says, as if he read your mind, pulling out a contract from his desk drawer, “And imagine if both Tony Stark and James Barnes said you were awful? You’ll never work in this city again.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the weight of his words, and you clutch your bag tighter in your lap.

“You’ll never work in this country again, you’ll be ruined, you’ll have nothing.”

You choke on a sob and cover your mouth with your hand as you shut your eyes.

“Why’re you crying? Honey, I’m offering you everything.”

“Thank you for… the opportunity,” you manage to get out between a deep breath as you shakily stand, and he stands with you.

You dart for the exit, but he grips your shoulders and turns you around, pushing you against door, your lower back painfully hitting the handle.

Soft blue eyes meet yours, so gentle and empathetic and caring you nearly forget the position you’re in, “I’m trying to help you,” he says, wiping away one of your stray tears, “If you walk out that door it’s over for you, you know that.”

Tears are falling more freely now and you fumble behind your back for the door handle, but the tall wood separating you from freedom doesn’t budge.

He wipes another tear with his thumb and pops it into his mouth before pulling it out adding his middle and index finger, never breaking eye contact with you, face stoic as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

You can do nothing but stare up at him helplessly as he hikes up your skirt and pushes two fingers inside you. You grip his shoulders with a gasp and he smiles as he slowly drags in and out of you.

“Didn’t even need to do that, you’re all ready.”

You turn your head to side and look away from him, shutting your eyes as you squeeze around him. He’s right, you were already wet, but your feeling of disgust is overpowered by the sensation of him pumping in and out of your more quickly, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot, over and over until you can hardly take it.

“B- Bucky, stop—” you try to get out, but you convulse, your stomach tensing as you cry out and arch your back, head thrown back before falling onto his shoulder, still crying softly. He removes his fingers and strokes your hair with his clean hand.

“Did so well for me, you see,” his voice is dark in your ear despite his praise, “You’re good at your job.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

[theminecraftbee]

Just reread the whole scs tag and now I want to see Three's first meeting with Etho (Iirc the clip of Grian being scared of Etho sneaking around and then seeming to teleport outside the ice shop is Grian's first meeting with Etho? (And it was season 7.) And I think the "two nervous animals stare at each other" vibes could fit.)

Three is nervous.

It has heard of Etho before. Etho is very high on the threat rankings it had memorized; Etho is considered more of a threat than is currently worth taking out; Etho is, apparently, a legend even around Players who do not understand quite how much of a threat he is. There are standing orders and plans still programmed into Three on how to take him out in a way that would not make a martyr of him. Three thinks many of these plans are stupid.

Three--

Three is nervous. It has heard of Etho before, and it does not know if Etho would have heard of a Blade before, or if any of that would get in the way of it conversing with Etho. Three is relatively confident it could beat Etho in a fight. For all Etho is a threat, he is merely a Player, and Three is a Blade. That had never been why Etho is a threat. That had...

Mumbo had promised Etho was not mean. Three had asked Mumbo what that had to do with anything. Mumbo had mumbled something about how, well, if Three was worried about Etho yelling at it, then Etho wouldn't. Etho would actually also worry, Mumbo assured Three. Etho seems cool at first, but he's actually kind of awkward, Mumbo assured Three.

Three had commented that 'seeming cool at first but actually being kind of awkward' is, apparently, a common problem. It can understand why.

None of that really solves why Three is nervous, but going over the ways Etho is a threat, and the plans it has to mitigate that threat is... nice. It should not use them, because Mumbo has promised that Hermitcraft is safe. Three finds it does not want to be the reason it is not safe. Three will not mitigate the threat of Etho. Three should not have to mitigate the threat of Etho.

Three is nervous because it wants something from Etho, and doesn't have anything to offer in return.

It stands in the jungle and waits. It sees Etho arrive, because it is watching for him, but Etho seems surprised, backing away nervously on seeing Three.

"Oh. Um. Hello there. You're Mumbo's scary friend. The new one he brought here. That one. That needed help? Um, I'm Etho."

"I know. Does Mumbo describe me as scary?"

"Not usually?" Etho says.

"Oh," Three says. It does not give away its disappointment. Etho is not a handler and not another Watcher, but it is best not to give away emotions like disappointment when it wants something from him anyway.

"Is there a reason you're, uh, lurking in my base?"

Three does not fidget. It is too well-trained to. "I am here to ask a favor."

"Shoot, uh, I guess I can hear it," Etho says.

"You are making your base out of interiors, you said, in the meeting," Three says. "I--I want. I want to do that. I want--I want you to show me how to do that." The words are harder to pull out of its mouth than it thought they would be. "I do not have much to offer you. I could take care of one of your enemies, but Mumbo says Hermitcraft is safe, and I do not know if I want to do that, I just know that I want..."

Three trails off.

"Apologies. I am unclear. Will clarify," Three says.

Asking for things it wants is--hard. It's still hard. It is not good at reporting on what it wants. Etho is staring at it. Three stands perfectly still, because it is well-trained.

"Most builders aren't a big fan of interiors," Etho says slowly, "let alone a base entirely out of them. That's, uh, a big favor you're asking. Can I ask why?"

Beneath the mask, Three opens its mouth. It closes it again. It does not know how to say: because I am the thing that replaced someone who built big empty shells. Because I filled one of those empty shells. Because I could have been one of those empty shells. Because I do not want to leave behind empty shells. Because if I am gone, I want the things to leave to be knit socks and cozy rooms and laughter, not a big empty temple with a farm in the middle. Because I am Three, and I am a person, and I want the world to remember that.

What Three says instead is: "I can pay you back. I am useful."

Etho looks at Three. He rubs the back of his head. "You know, normally no one is dumb enough to give me an IOU this early in the season?" He laughs almost nervously. "Sure, man, I can teach you to make a base out of interiors. Why not."

"Thank you," Three says, and its shoulders do not slump, because it is well-trained.

"No problem. Say, what do you think about pranks?"

"I would like to learn to do those too," Three says promptly.

Etho also wears a mask. This does not stop Three from being able to tell the man is smirking.

"You know what? We're gonna get along just fine," he says. Strangely, Three believes him.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily.

P.S. Thank you so much for completing this series. 'You're Mine' and 'Ours' have been a massive labor of love and so much fun to write. I hope you have enjoyed all 60 chapters! There will be epilogue but until then... The End.

Chapter 30 - 'All Ours' | ‘Ours’ - The Final Part

word count - 14.2 k

Trent was on the carpet in your living room sat in between your legs as you were sitting on the couch behind him. Teddy was on the couch next to you sitting in Marcel’s lap as the four of you watched a NBA game on the TV that night. Maybe the four of you watching is a stretch. Marcell and Trent were watching. Teddy was bothering Marcel with irrelevant and unrelated questions. You were occupied playing with Trent’s hair, scratching at his scalp, occasionally massaging his shoulders. You were just keeping your hands on him. You couldn’t get enough of him lately. You still had yet to tell your families about the pregnancy. You were hiding in sweat sets and t-shirts of Trent’s lately attempting to hide your slightly now more noticeable bump. Trent leaned his cheek against the inside of your thigh as he kissed your knee. 

“Celly, know mama has a baby?” Teddy asked Marcel, looking up at him as she pulled at his shirt begging for more attention. You were just far away enough that you couldn’t clearly make out what they were actually talking about but also you were in such a trance focused on Trent you weren’t really trying to listen in either.

“Yeah, I know. You're Mummy’s baby, Ted.” Marcel cooed, confirming what he assumed she was talking about. He kept his focus on the game though. She scrunched her nose, annoyed he didn’t understand her and that he didn’t actually pay much attention to her.

“No, in her tummy, tay?” She tried to correct him, looking at him with a ‘duh’ type face like how could he not know she was talking about a new baby.

“What?” He whispered to her bringing his face close to hers but flicked his eyes to you and Trent with confusion over her. He was shocked to say the least. 

“A Celly.” Teddy attempted to clarify what she was talking about pulling his attention back to her. His eyes widened. It took him a moment before he was able to compute what she was referring to saying you had ‘a Celly.’ He debated for a moment if Teddy was like just talking nonsense or if she was serious.  Was he supposed to tell you and Trent he knew? What if you were not pregnant and he asked? He didn’t want to offend you. He grappled with the thought for a second.

“Ted, can I tell mummy and daddy what you told me?” Marcel asked her loud enough to draw the attention of Trent. He furrowed his brow but disregarded them and wrote it off as something silly Marcel and Teddy usually talked about. 

“Nooos, it’s secret Celly!” Teddy yelped. Trent shook his head with a smile at her not knowing what she was yelling about. Marcel dragged his finger between his lips and locked it at the corner's edge, signaling to Teddy he’d keep their secret but his mind was racing. He needed to know. A little while later you had gone upstairs and put Teddy to bed after Marcel and Trent said a lengthy goodnight to her filled with her giggles. When you came back down, they had moved to the cinema to play a game of FIFA.  You made your way there to find them but didn’t say anything or even acknowledge them really when you went in. You just cuddled up to Trent and fell asleep on him in the dark room. Trent made sure you were tight to him, laying his hands with his game controller onto your back keeping you so. As they played, sporadically he’d whisper ‘I love yous’ to you and kiss your hair. 

“Bro…” Marcel turned in his seat to look at Trent as they waited for the next game to load and start. Trent raised his eyebrows confused what Marcel’s impatient facial expression was for. “Sooo…” Marcel waved his hand at Trent to signal him to start talking but Trent gave no response. “You and Y/N….” He finally just spelled it out for his brother who was just taking too long for him.. 

“Oh... Fuck. Mate, it’s not obvious right? Were you able to just tell?” Trent babbled out quietly but relatively panicked. He looked down at your body and tried to examine you hidden under the baggy clothes trying to deduce if Marcel had been able to make out your bump visually. “We’re supposed to go to mums tomorrow. You think she’ll be able to tell? We were trying to wait to tell everyone.” Trent’s anxiety over ruining something you were fairly excited about doing washed over him.

“Wait so you are?!?” Marcel yelped out but bit his lips tightly closed after hoping he didn’t wake you with his excited outburst.  

“Yeah. We’ll she is or we are. I’m so happy.” Trent cooed gently, turning his focus to you. He smiled brushing his hand over hair before kissing your temple.

“Damn, that’s amazing. But nah, I couldn’t just tell. I had no idea. I don’t think mum will know either. Your daughter just yaps more than you and she told me.” Marcel smiled simultaneously taking a jab at Trent whilst letting him know that Teddy had spilled the beans. 

“Oh dammit, Ted. I knew she wouldn’t keep it to herself. Evidently, she doesn’t really understand a pinky promise and I guess the concept of secrets either.” Trent laughed, Marcel did along with him. Teddy wasn’t the most tight lipped.  

“Bro, this is sick… I’m so happy for you guys. How is she?” He nodded towards you. He wanted to make sure you were fine. If anyone knew the depth of how bad things had gotten it was Marcel. 

“Yeah, she’s been all good so far. She’ll do amazing. I know that.” Trent smiled again praying that you would be fine this time around. He didn’t know if he could bear an episode like the one that occurred after your pregnancy with Teddy. “Let her tell you about this though bro. I know she wanted to.” He instructed his brother because he knew that you had talked about the way you wanted to announce this to your families, especially Marcel. You wanted everyone to kind of have their own individual announcement, different from your fist pregnancy. In the following days Marcel kept his mouth shut as you began to send out customized newspapers announcing your baby. Each one including a snippet to keep it quiet till everyone knew.  Something along the lines of ‘Call us when you read the news. We can’t wait to meet our baby but until all our family and friends know… shhhh!’

“I’m fucking crying. Are you serious right now?” Winnie was balling over a Facetime after she had received hers. It naturally set you off right away.

“Yeah, going to have a little boy. I don’t know anything about them but I know he’ll be really cute.” You gushed with a giggled, starting to deep that you knew zero about little boys. It probably was a similar feeling that Trent had when you found out about Teddy. Things were going to be generally the same but also wildly different.  

“Baby, he’s just going to be like a little me. I swear interests will be fairly the same. You, food, sleep, footie. Simple boys.” Trent explained to you as he kissed your shoulder. You smiled hoping that was true but also knowing he was vastly oversimplifying things. 

“Do you have a name picked out? Are you keeping ‘TAA’ initials? Wait.. does Teddy know? What does she think?” Winnie rattled questions at you at lightning speed.

“Sheesh, Winn. Slow down please. Teddy does know. I think she’s on board but I don’t think she understands that after he arrives that he’s staying so we’ll see how that goes.” You laughed and Winnie hummed. “Names… Well, I have my opinion and T has his so I don’t know. To a degree I kind of felt like some little nod to dad would be nice.” You kept talking, explaining your current name debacle. You and Trent had talked about this at length. The only thing you had decided though was that you wanted to keep the initials ‘TAA.’ Aside from that, you and Trent just sat around throwing ‘T’ names at each other saying them all day. Trent often saying his suggestions as if it was an announcement at Anfield. 

“And number 6…” He paused his dramatics for a quick caveat. “I don’t want him to take 66 so thinking he can have half of my number.” He clarified to you and you nodded. “Trey Alexander-Arnold.’ Good, no? I kind of like it because he’d be the third ‘TAA’ kind of vibe I think.” He looked at you with a smile fairly proud of his idea. 

“So you’ll just ignore Tyler’s initials…” You cooed gently with a teasing smirk. Trent rolled his eyes wrapping his arm around your neck pulling you into his chest in a headlock. 

“You’re just so funny, huh?” He huffed, kissing your head and then releasing you. “Yes, I know. But this is also my family so he’d be the… You know what fine, scratch Trey. Now I’m not going to be able to think about anything but how salty Tyler would be. Thanks for sending me back to square one, baby.” He muttered with a huff. 

“Aww. I’m sorry, T. It was a cute name though but yeah square one, sorry. I will not listen to that argument for the rest of my life.” You cooed, caressing his cheek with your thumb. Back to square one you went, the list of names fluctuating between lengthening and shortening every couple days as you added some and ruled out others. It was all quite nice for the moment. Everyday was kind of exciting because you’d get a call from a family member or a friend who had received the news. You decided you’d hand deliver your announcement to Dianne, she deserved that. That said, Dianne aside, your only other delivery was to Marcel.

“Oh are you serious…” you whined. “You definitely already knew. I can read you like a fucking book. Who told you!” You yelped with a bit of a laugh leaning over your kitchen island slapping at Marcel. You definitely could read him like a book but it also wasn’t that hard. Lying wasn’t a strong suit in the family across the board but Marcel was particularly bad at it. His contrived reaction to your announcement confirming just that. 

“I’m sorry! Teddy told me in a backwards way and then I asked Trent but he told me you wanted to tell me so here we are. Can I know what you’re having now?” He asked with a cheeky smile that also ran in this family. 

“I still want you to find the gender with Ty. I just wanted to talk to you first. You’re important to me. You really are the best uncle to Teddy.” You began to start the conversation of why you wanted to hand deliver this news specifically to him. 

“And you’ve told Ty this, correct?” He interrupted you and you rolled your eyes subsequently. “I'm kidding, I’m kidding, go on.” He laughed not realizing how serious you were being. 

“You’re Teddy’s Celly and her best friend but in all seriousness how good you are with our kids aside. Even though this is exciting,I just wanted to talk about… me and you. Sometimes you and I get caught in banter and brother-sister type things which is fine, I love it, I just need you to know that I know what T does for me… Obviously, he and I’ve talked but Marce I also know what you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t have survived without your friendship. You are my best friend before you’re my brother, honest. You’re just really important to me and I want to make sure you and I are good because… I love you a lot.” You softly smiled at him hoping your confessional was going to be received well.

“Fuck… wow.” He choked out a little taken aback hearing your voice begin to shake a little. “I love you too. Y/N, I don’t think I ever thought you didn’t know what Trent does for you. You guys have one of the healthiest relationships I know. You value each other, I know that. You’re my best friend as well. I won’t be telling the boys that but yeah, I know.” You shook your head with a little giggle. Naturally, he wasn’t going to get soft on you without a little humor. “We’re fine. Promise. It just feels like I’ve lost him as a brother, sometimes. It’s strange that we went from messing about in L12 and now, I know I see everyone still, but it’s not just… us. Sorry it’s stupid.” You tried not to pout at him. Marcel gave you a little more than you thought he would. You were slightly worried he wouldn’t open up. 

“I’m sorry it feels that way. I can’t really totally wrap my head around his trajectory myself and what that must have felt like at home. I know how you feel though to a degree, having to share him feels wrong because he’s just our Trent and not this global figure to us but as much as we have to accept that’s kind of the way it is, you haven’t lost anyone.” You wanted to comfort him but you knew it was an abnormal situation. You just wanted to make sure he was okay. You really meant it, he was like a little brother.

“Nah, I know that as well. It’s been mad though to have all this happen and then like don’t get me wrong I love Teddy, she's goated, a pain in my ass, but she’s amazing and like I said I love you as well” He smiled prefacing his next statement. “But just on top of footie he’s just got this whole other life that I’m not in.” He puffed out some air, not happy to be admitting to his feelings. You weren’t a younger sibling but you understood and related to how bizarre it was to live in this very abnormal situation less than 1% of the world experienced. 

“Marce… You are very much so a part of this life, our life, and his life. I think you should tell him this kind of stuff because seriously, you and Ty are literally a part of every single day and if you’re not physically here bothering me, you’re in that annoying group chat that doesn’t stop. I totally empathize with this kind of grappling with growing up… I’m not saying you’re not grown, just that I know I really struggle to accept that we’re not what we were or maybe aren’t in the same place anymore, you know in our favorite places but we always find new ones. I found one with you all, no?” You smiled coming around the counter hugging him from the side, laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, course. New favorite places.” He mumbled out leaning his head onto yours. “I like our places together.” He muttered. 

“Yeah, me too. Those are the good ones. Your pain in the ass Teddy included.” You giggled, squeezing him once more before letting go. “What do you want to do for lunch before the match?” You asked, jumping back into normalcy.  

“Erm… anything really but Y/N, I am happy you know for you, and for him. I love your family and you being a part of our family, and obviously Ted.” Marcel shuffled in his chair. 

“I know. I know that.” You smiled, turning to grab your phone off the counter. After said match, the group chat lit up as it always did filling with who was coming over to your house. You needed a headcount, they never gave you for food but you always had a general idea, the usual cohort of rowdy boys in your cinema. Teddy gassed with the attention and chaos. 

“Come on, Teddy girl. You don’t want to be with all these icky boys anymore. We’re going to eat.” You cooed, coming to grab Teddy from them. She wasn’t going to eat what they were and she needed to eat her dinner at the kitchen table. You didn’t want to taunt her with whatever they were indulging in. 

“Too many, mama.” She told you, climbing off a couch next to George. He dramatically acted offended. You scooped up Teddy and kissed Trent’s head. 

“One more soon though.” Trent pipped up and you shook your head at his delivery.

“Sorry?” George looked at Trent with a confused look. It was a game of who could put together the dots the fastest. All of the boys in the room had received the newspaper announcements and said their congratulations but not until this moment, had anyone discussed your baby further.

“Shut the fuck up…” Marcel’s jaw slacked. He sat up in his chair. “Oh my days Project TAA, we get fucking project TAA. Bro!” He yelped. Thus the real chaos ensued as all the boys collectively freaked out. You gave a few hugs but you let them all pop off about Trent having a son.

“Do my boobs look bigger?” You asked Trent looking down at your chest before you looked at him. He gave you a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes. You knew he wasn’t exactly complaining but you weren’t asking about his preference for the visuals he was getting in the bedroom, you were asking about how they looked in the top Prada had sent for you to wear to their show in Milan tonight. 

“Your boobs look amazing, baby.” Trent confirmed. They did look good. They were a bit more ‘plump’ than normal. He leaned back on his hands behind him on the mattress with a grin really enjoying how you looked. He licked over his lips.

“I can’t wear this.” You huffed unzipping the tight top. You stood there just in your sheer organza pants and satin high heels now topless. You watched Trent’s eyes light up. Your gaze flashed to his crotch unintentionally but the way he was sitting with his legs spread wide had your mouth watering. Your hormonal flares were getting the better of you. “I’m so horny for you, T.” You whined moving towards him, running your hands over his bare chest. 

“Wow, baby. I forgot this is what you being pregnant was like.” Trent smiled greedily, wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit on his lap. His face coming close to yours. His lips ghosting over yours. 

“And I’m so sensitive now.” You moaned, pushing your lips into his for a passionate kiss. You moved his hands from your back around you and up your body, over your nipples. 

“Arrgh. We gotta go baby.” He groaned feeling your tits in his hand but trying to not let himself fall into your trap and get lost in you. 

“Come on, T, please.” You begged him. You didn’t need to beg. Trent would fuck you but you actually really did need to leave if you wanted to make it to the show on time and you still needed to put on a top despite Trent’s preference to your current state. 

“You love Prada. Let’s go sweet girl. You know I can’t say no to you so you have to get off of me.” He laughed at himself knowing the longer you stayed put on his lap with minimal clothing on the thinner and thinner his resilience was getting.    

“Fine, fine, but you owe me.” You huffed annoyed that he wouldn’t just take you right then. You were genuinely so horny for him you were praying you’d be able to make it through your night. “I’m just going to wear the sweatshirt.” You got off his lap and stood up looking around the room for the second option for a top for your look. “That still looks chic right?” You asked Trent awkwardly pulling the Prada Oversized cashmere and shearling sweatshirt over your head in an effort to not get any makeup on the cream color. 

“Nah, it looks sick baby. I like it.” Trent cooed standing up with a puff of air trying to collect himself. 

“Are you sure? I could always change.” You deviously smiled, beginning to peel the sweatshirt off again.

“I’m fuming right now that I’m saying this but can you please keep your clothes on f’me.” He gave you a massive smile and a disapproving head shake as he laughed pulling the fabric back down. This was a couple months ago and your horniness for Trent and your larger tits had not changed. Despite the World Cup being some amount of time away you found yourself in a similar situation trying on clothes, asking for his opinions but back home in your bedroom. Trent was in bed, he deemed your late night activity unnecessary but still entertained you. You were digging through your entire wardrobe trying to find just the right top. To no avail, you came out in a defeated huff. Trent smiled seeing you act so childish over something trivial. 

“C’mere baby. You’ll look great regardless. Just come to bed. It’s really not that big of a deal.” He tried to reason with you but it was a big deal… to you. Pulling together looks for a big tournament where you were playing a secondary role was insane but you did it nonetheless because well, you liked dressing up. Doing this insanity while pregnant? Not nearly as fun. 

“Nothing, and I’m actually serious, nothing looks good.” You complained, crawling on your bed towards him. You laid next to him and let him pull your tired body into his. He turned your chin to look up at him and kissed your lips. You hummed returning his kiss. “I’ve missed you.” You whined, pulling away from the kiss momentarily. 

“I’ve missed you more. Promise.”  He pecked your lips again as he tightened his arms around you. You hadn’t actually been apart long enough, only an away game, to warrant any sane person to say they missed one another but you two? You really did. The way his warm body felt against yours felt like heaven. His familiar comforting yet equally sexy scent encased you. His arms felt firm like he’d never let go and you didn’t want him to ever. His breath slowed as he looked deep into your eyes. You felt a shiver run up your spine staring back at him. “Turn around, baby.” He whispered close to you, turning your body in his arms letting your back now press into his chest. He leaned his head down and began kissing behind your ear. Your brain couldn’t really even process anything, you just felt this sense of relief and comfort being held by him in addition to this primal urge to get him to fuck you. You didn’t say anything. You let him work kisses down your neck as you pushed your ass against his hardening cock. “You want me to make you feel good?” He hummed as you let his hands roam over you, peeling your clothes off slowly. He relished in the sight of your now naked body against his. You tried to roll your hips back into him needing more. 

“T, fuck me, please.” You begged him desperately. His lips pulled into a teasing smile against your skin. It wasn’t long before he was sliding his length inside you. His hands all over you.

“You want me to fuck you? Show me how bad you want it then, baby.” He whispered against your neck. He steadied his hips behind you and let you move against him. You pushed further against him, taking more and more of his length inside of you. You were wet enough that his cock slid in without a struggle. Needy as ever you bounced your hips on your own, fucking yourself. “That’s right, baby. Good girl.” He smiled, enjoying your desperation. “Use me however you like to. Go on.” He groaned. 

“Please. T, baby. I need you.” You whined and he caved, giving into your pleas. You tipped your head back and Trent took advantage of the space returning his lips to your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin, scraping his teeth against you, marking you in the millionth way that you were his. You felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter as one of Trent’s hands slid to massage your tits cheekily pulling on your nipples. His other hand slid down in front of you coming to play with your clit and began to circle harshly around it. You couldn’t stay quiet as your orgasm got closer and closer. You clenched your pussy tighter around him. He moaned your name, unable to think about anything but you and how good you felt, the pleasure consumed all his thoughts.You shut your eyes as you awkwardly turned your head to kiss his lips. 

“Cum on my cock, baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me.” He sweetly whispered in your ear in contrast to his crass words. The pleasure started to be too much to control. Your pussy clenched tight around him as your body was filled with white hot pleasure. Your warm, wet, and tight walls were becoming too much for Trent to manage. “Can you do that for me, baby? Huh?” His thrusts were mind-numbingly perfect. Your eyes were shut tight but you nodded eagerly for him. Trent held you so tightly, completely flush against him. His pace had become relentless, his hips unforgiving as he moved, driving his cock in and out of you, consistently hitting a spot so deep inside you. Swiftly he was twitching and fucking you full of his cum.

“Fuck T…” you whined feeling his thrusts continue but slow. He emptied himself with slow lazy pumps. He didn't stop though as he came. He kept fucking you at a slower pace though as he watched his release seem from your pussy fucking it back into you untill you came once more for him.

“I love you so much, baby.” He hummed kissing your shoulder. He cuddled up to you keeping his strong arms wrapped around your frame. 

“I love you, T.” You sleepily cuddled back into him. He kissed the back of your head and pulled you closer into him.  You fell asleep just like that in the most loving embrace possible.

There was a World Cup friendly ahead of this summer’s tournament. In an unexpected turn of events the once very exciting information that the World Cup was going to be held in the United States was now one of inconvenience. By the end of the tournament you’d be a month or so out from your due date and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to fly risking the possibility of attending a potential final, should England make it that far in the tournament. You needed to have your baby in England. You could’ve tried to make arrangements to work around staying in New York for the birth but it didn’t make sense, at least not to you.

“I’m not even listening to them.” Lauren laughed keeping her eyes fixed on Trent and Jude filming a relaxed interview together for the England Youtube page. “Just want to sit on his lap, you know?” She cooed to you with a devious smirk, eyes staying put. 

“Laurennn…” You reprimanded her even though you knew Teddy wouldn’t have picked up on her innuendo. “Can you see dada, hmm?” You squeezed Teddy to you as she sat in your lap. You were sitting crossed legged on a turf pitch with your cheek pressed to the side of hers.  It was fairly hot and not an easy position for you to get in and out of but it’s where you currently were. Teddy nodded following your finger pointing to a monitor relaying the video of them as it was being filmed. “Fine, they look good to be fair.” You quipped to Lauren with a smug smile agreeing with her sentiment of wanting to sit on your respective man's laps as you watched Trent adjust in his seat raising his hips upwards. 

“What dada talking bout?” Teddy turned and asked you before letting her head fall back onto your chest lazily.  

“Footie.” You told her. Frankly, you hadn’t really been listening but you assumed that’s what they were on about.  She gave you a sort of blank ‘oh…’ in response that made you smile. “ What? You’re not interested in footie?” You asked her just interested in what was going on in her little brain before Trent and Jude broke out into a big laugh about god knows what. You couldn’t really hear their conversation because of their distance from you but the sound carried. They were yapping and laughing away as usual regardless. 

“Want to laugh with dada and Judey too, mama.” Teddy complained hearing and seeing their laughter. She was jealous. They looked like they were having so much fun and yet they weren’t including her. The ultimate offense. Your eyes were fixed on the monitor but Teddy was trying to see how far away she really was from where they were sitting to see if she could get there. 

“When they’re done, okays?” You cooed gently with a kiss to her hair. You gave her a cuddle and she sighed dramatically letting her body limply fall sideways on to Lauren’s lap as well. She was definitely inheriting some of Trent’s dramatics. 

“What? You’re just too cool to be with us now? You’re not having fun so you want to go be with the boys instead?” Lauren teased tickling Teddy’s tummy eliciting a giggly squirm before she pulled her entirely into her lap. “Wait, Ted. No, no, no!” Lauren hushly but sternly tried to call out as Teddy broke away from her in childish defiance running towards Jude and Trent. She even had the cheek to turn her head back to look at Lauren with a conniving smile as she did it. It was a jarringly similar grin to Trent’s that made you shake your head. 

“Think we’ve got an intruder, lads.” Jude announced, watching Teddy clumsily step over wires and cords around where they were filming. Lauren stood up and attempted to chase after her but the crew had welcomed her in before she could nab her. Jude laughed seeing Lauren’s face grappling between slight panic and a sly grin thinking this was a little funny. You were stuck as is because no shot you were going to be able to stand up on your own from your seat on the grass in time and you certainly weren’t going to run. 

“Oh, sorry.” Trent smiled, turning to see his little girl. “Are we able to cut for a second? This isn’t live, right?” Trent asked, really trying to remember if they said this was going to be streamed or something. They told him he was fine so he stuck out his arms to reach out for Teddy who was currently trying her best to navigate as carefully as she could through the cameras. “Sorry.” Trent apologized once more before grunting, picking up Teddy and lifting her over some equipment. “C’mere Ted. What are you doing, silly girl?” He asked her. She just shrugged with a giggle. 

“Did you get bored with mummy and Lauren? We do too.” Jude asked her teasingly with a wink to you and Lauren who was now just opting to sit back down. You couldn’t hear his question but you heard your respective names and rolled your eyes in sync. 

“Want to play a game with us?” Josh, the host of their interview, asked Teddy. Her eyes lit at the question. A game with daddy and Judey, absolutely… well and also with this stranger. Josh looked to Trent for his approval to include Teddy in a small game but very quickly he then turned to you for your opinion. You didn’t really know the context so you implied it’d be up to his discretion. “Come here sweetheart. Want to play a game with Jude and your daddy?” Teddy shyly hid behind Trent’s legs. 

“You’re okay, baby. Want to play or no, hmm?” Trent cooed, pulling one of Teddy’s curls straight and then letting it bounce back. She sheepishly nodded. He nodded his head towards Josh for her to go over. Teddy looked back towards you and you smiled and waved reassuring her despite not having really any idea what was happening. “Go on, yeah? We’ll have fun!” Trent reassured her. You knew she was fine as long as Trent was with her. Josh explained a game the crew made up on the spot. The boys would each have a guess and write what they thought the answer Teddy would give to a question on a white board. 

“Alright, so we’ve got Teddy Alexander-Arnold with us for our next little segment. Mum’s given us a go ahead?” Josh spoke to the camera and looked to Trent for confirmation. He nodded as Josh rattled on a further explanation of the instructions before they began.  “What do daddy and Jude do for work?” Josh asked, looking down at Teddy who had plopped herself onto the turf picking at it with her hands. She tilted her head up to give her answer when he gave her the go ahead. 

“Play.” Teddy responded nonchalantly and fairly disinterested before flicking her gaze back to the grass. Josh laughed a little at her answer. Trent wasn’t phased by her attention. He turned his board around to show the correct answer with a smug smile. 

“Nah, not having that.” Jude snapped annoyed. He leaned closer to Teddy. “Ted, but what do we play? You’re not saying footie? Also, I don’t know why I’m slightly offended by your answer.” Jude started to laugh at Teddy's belittlement of their careers teasing her reaching over to poke at her pudgy tummy.

“Yeah huh, Judey. Play footie with my daddy.” Teddy clarified with a giggle wiggling away from him. Jude had written ‘Footie’ on his board. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Can’t be trying to coerce her into an answer. She said ‘play’ not ‘footie’ you lost the point. Me and my baby bear just vibe different, mate.” Trent quipped back. Josh laughed a little at the back and forth. Trent leaned off his seat and kissed Teddy’s hair.  

“Alright, alright. One nil to Trent. Another question for you, sweetheart. What team do you think will win the World Cup?” Josh asked the next question and gave the boys a minute to write their answers. 

“Libpool.” Teddy answered with a bit more of a yelp and giggle, very certain and proud of her answer. Both boys turned their boards around begrudgingly with incorrect answers throwing their heads with a groan. Teddy looked at Trent confused and a little disheartened with their reaction.     

“Baby… Yeah, that’s a good answer but what team do Jude and I play together on. Where do we live?” Trent tried to clarify for her. As much as Trent was amazing if not perfect with Teddy he could never quite drop his competitiveness, he wanted to win. 

“Libpool, dada.” Teddy doubled down. Trent ran his hands over his face. Josh laughed. 

“Teddy girl.” Jude shook his head with a goofy smile. “I don’t play in Liverpool. You know I don’t live near you. We have to talk on the phone usually, don’t we?” He gently explained trying to direct her to the correct answer.

“This isn’t really fair though is it though because her answer is wrong.” Trent quipped trying to rationalize why the game wasn’t going to work. Teddy tried to complain, not really appreciating the fact that Trent was talking about her like she wasn’t there. 

“Mate, the game is guessing her answer though.” Jude snapped, interrupting Teddy. She stood up and grabbed his arm. 

“Judey! Listen!” All three boys laughed seeing Teddy come out of her shell a little more as she got more comfortable. “Live in England, tay? My mama not from there though but dada said can’t laugh at her.” Teddy segued into the unrelated topic about you. It was a discussion that came up recently with her of why you sounded different. You american accented words versus Trent’s made her laugh. 

“Right, we won’t make fun of mummy, alright?” Jude told Teddy and she nodded. “But you’re English still and that’s who you’re supposed to say is going to win, Teddy girl.” He explained to her as she pulled herself up to sit in Jude’s lap.They carried on with more questions and banter. It was a little while later on when she started to get tired. She wasn’t even involved in the video at this point. She just was chilling. You were gossiping away to Lauren who wasn’t really listening as much as she was just watching Jude be sweet with your little girl. Teddy started to get worked up in Jude’s arms though beginning to progressively get more fussy as she got more tired. 

“Uh oh! Want to just go be with daddy?” Jude cooed gently as Teddy began to start crying. She nodded sadly with a hushed ‘pleabs.” He kissed her before passing her to Trent’s outstretched arms. 

“Not having that?” Josh asked Jude with some cheek as Teddy continued to cry. 

“Nah, that’s why I love Ted. I just hand her off when she gets upset.” Jude laughed as Trent rolled her eyes as he whispered asking Teddy what was wrong. ”To be fair, she’s so chill more often than not. My only beef is that she won’t wear my Madrid jersey but I think that’s more of an issue I’m taking up with him.” Jude laughed with a smirk.

“Aw, baby C’mon. Going to be okay. Let’s go sit with mama, okay?” Trent cooed, kissing Teddy holding her as she cried ‘mama’ on repeat. “Can I just pop over to my wife quick?” Trent asked in the general direction of the men behind the cameras as he was already standing up. He knew that no one wanted to hear Teddy wailing before even asking. The director nodded. 

“Oh, is mummy asleep on daddy.”  Lauren giggled, bouncing Teddy on her hip walking back into your living room holding a glass of wine in her other hand noticing you. You’d passed out laying on Trent. She had come to stay for a little to spend some time with you and to help out with the nursery you desperately needed to finish.

“Uh huh… my mama lub my dada so um they um have baby.” Teddy explained squirming in her arms to put her down. Lauren bent over and placed her on the carpet. Teddy immediately took off running to the couch jumping on Marcel who had come over. 

“Yeah mummy has a baby. You must be sleepy like mummy though, no?” Lauren cooed carefully sitting herself on the white couch keeping her glass of wine steady. 

“Nos.” She giggled despite it actually getting close to her bedtime.

“I think you are…” Lauren cooed, pulling on one of her legs hanging over Marel’s lap. “Have to set a good example for your baby brother. Don’t want him to be like Celly do you?” Lauren teased.  

“The stray was so unnecessary.” Marcel quipped with an eye roll.   

“I like Celly, Lauwen. No bruber though. No tanks al zander arnol girls only.” Teddy explained through stumbling words, sitting upright hugging Marcel. 

“Yeah, you’ll still be Alexander-Arnold girls. Why don't you want a baby brother though? If you had a sister you'd have to share all your cute clothes like mummy has to with Winnie.” Lauren laughed.  

“Shares a generous word.” You slowly and groggily spoke coming out of sleep.

“Mummyyy!” Teddy squealed hearing you, crawling off Marcel towards you and Trent on the couch. 

“Hi baby. You’re so cute and so loud.” You laughed watching her make her way to you. “Come here, yeah?” You cooed bringing her into you and Trent.  

The following weeks were a bit hectic with the World Cup fast approaching. Trent was so busy and you just the same so it was fairly common that someone from your family helped out with Teddy. Frankly, you really needed to accept the fact that you might need a babysitter eventually because this was getting even more overwhelming as your due date came closer as well. Marcel had just begun dating this girl Gracie. Maybe ‘begun’ wouldn’t be the word considering you met her years ago and they had a whole situationship before this current relationship. She was sweet and you liked her. Cute, fairly meek, not in a negative way but she definitely was trying to “fit in” with your family so she wasn’t the most outspoken at the moment. It was a lot for you to walk into but for her it was a little different and slightly more strange. She’d actually known the Alexander-Arnold family longer than you did but since Trent was so successful and famous now it was almost an entirely new environment. That said, she definitely just wanted to be liked by all the people that felt like permanent stays like you… and Teddy. 

“Excuse me, my Celly.” Teddy reprimanded Gracie, moving her hand off of Marcel. She was attempting to make it clear that Marcel was hers as you all sat at a restaurant for lunch on a random day. Having someone with you and Teddy all day made such a difference so you took the liberties of going out for something fun and leisurely when you did.

“Okay, I’m sorry sweetheart.” Gracie gently apologized, running her hand over her hair. Teddy didn’t concede though. She just kept her unimpressed glare on her. Marcel laughed a little at Teddy’s upset and Gracie’s kindness. 

“This is my Celly. Tay?” Teddy yelled. Your eyes widened. You knew she was possessive of Trent and you but this was really the first outburst about someone else. It wasn’t all that surprising though that the someone else was Marcel though. 

“Teddy girl…” You cautioned her. That's really all it took. It was a tone she knew well. “Can we be polite please? That’s not very nice.” You asked her. You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Gracie. You wanted to really tell her that jealousy was not the way to get a man. She frowned at you and then her face pulled into offense as she watched the biggest betrayal, Marcel wrapping his arm around Gracie.

“It’s okay, really.” Gracie assured you brushing off Teddy’s sass. You smiled and so did she.  “We can share him, yeah?” She gave a toothy smile to Teddy before pecking Marcel’s cheek. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back  

“Nooooo mine!” She yelled and you immediately looked at her with wide eyes and a shake of the head. You were fast approaching the delightful stage of toddler tantrums. Teddy was really well behaved but sometimes she just didn’t know any better way to communicate her feelings. She sat in her chair as her eyes welled with tears, upset with Marcel and Gracie and now upset she had done something wrong. 

“Oh my little teddy bear.” Marcel pouted at her. “Come here. You’re still my best friend, hmm?” He leaned over and tried to pick her up but her tears began to fall as she rejected him. 

“You’re okay, baby. Celly loves you, promise. Come sit with me. I got you.” You grabbed her out of her seat knowing she wouldn’t say no to you. She wrapped herself around your neck and sniffled. “You didn’t eat any of your chips, my cute girl. You love them. Want to eat some with mummy?” You cooed and she shook her head ‘no’ but she contradicted herself when she eventually turned back to the table to grab one of your plate. 

“I have?” Teddy asked Gracie sheepishly, reaching a chip towards her plate close to yours that had a bit of ketchup on it. 

“Of course, Teddy. I'll share with you” Gracie smiled and pushed her plate and thus the ketchup a little closer to her. She shoved her chip into the ketchup and then into her mouth with a greedy smile and a hum. You and Marcel exchanged eye rolls at her. She was very cute and always managed to get her way. 

“I’m fucking worried 25 hours a day.” You cried over the phone. You couldn’t even Facetime. You couldn’t bear to look at Trent right now. The World Cup did not end how you would’ve wanted it to but nevertheless Trent and Jude and a few other England teammates had stayed out in California for some time off. You had flown back immediately after the team was knocked out. You were so close to your due date you didn’t want to leave anything to chance, have any complications or be told you couldn't fly home after their departure in the Semifinals so you and Teddy were back home alone sans Trent.

“Baby… come on.” Trent groaned tired from his night out. “Just don’t deep it please.” It was like he forgot who he was talking to. Like the difference in your time zones wasn’t the only thing disconnecting you two. Trent rolled in the massive bed he was staying in really wishing you were in right now. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, disgruntled, not even sure how he had just got home. He was very drunk. It was maybe three or almost four am for Trent and late morning for you back home. It wasn’t how you anticipated your day starting and suddenly you felt the tides of your afternoon changing. 

“I mean who was there? Are there photos? Like why are you telling me this?” You rattled quickly in a panic after Trent had sort of unintentionally but intentionally filled you in on his night. They had gone to a club. Not your favorite thing in the world but you knew he was going out. What you were unaware of was that they were joined by… let’s just say a man who was a “promoter”  out in LA but that title really didn’t encapsulate what he did for a living. You knew nightlife. You knew it well in fact and you knew of this man and you knew that the England players request to blow off steam wasn’t just coming with bottles it was coming with bottle girls. 

“I don’t knowww. I just don’t want you to be caught out if someone says something shitty on twitter, alright beautiful?” Trent whined, throwing his head back into a pillow. You could hear other people in the house with him. He clearly was alone in his room or if someone was there they were dead quiet but you knew there were other people there.

“Well, why would they have something to say? What was happening?” You asked, feeling a bit nauseous and you weren’t sure if it was a symptom of your pregnancy or the vagueness of Trent’s borderline black out drunk phone call. 

“Nah, nothing baby. Wish you were here with me, you know.” He segued into another conversation entirely. You didn’t know if he intended to do this or if he was just drunk enough to not remember what he was talking about. He poorly attempted to convince you to have phone sex with him. You usually wouldn’t be opposed but like this? No. He was wasted, it was almost the afternoon for you, there was this weird tension and secrecy about what his night actually consisted of was putting you off. 

“Okay, can you just go to sleep for me, T and get some water before, please.” You tried to calm yourself down just thinking more about his well being and the pain in the ass he'd be when he’d inevitably call you complaining he didn’t feel well wanting you to baby him when he woke up after this. You tried to say goodnight but you definitely didn’t miss the female voices echoing in the house and one in particular calling his name. He knew. He knew you heard it as well. He was too drunk to process how to handle this appropriately. Another woman's voice calling his name close to four in the morning wasn’t a great look for him and it wasn’t a great feeling for you. For some reason it really bothered you that it was an American accent. He couldn’t think quickly enough to act or say anything before you had hung up. You must’ve hit decline 50 times after that. His vision blurred. Trent didn’t leave his room that night, he slept alone.  

“You know why I’m here.” Tyler gently spoke to you standing at your front door. You had waited for this all day after you’d seen the predicted photos emerge on football gossip sites alike. You didn’t want to see them but people would just DM them to you unprovoked. It was so invasive and so… sad. You did not want to see the thread putting together that the interior of the house from this LA model’s Instagram story was the same one in the photo Jude had shared. You didn’t want to see the screenshot of another stranger's story they posted unintentionally capturing a woman standing in between Trent’s legs at the club and you most certainly did not want to see the photo where you could not make out where his hands had disappeared to.

“Yeah, sure. On cue, no?” You snapped a little unfairly at Tyler as you let him inside. You rolled your eyes not really even greeting him. You knew Trent had sent Tyler over that night. You didn’t know what time it was on the west coast, you could’ve looked but you were ignoring Trent. You were raging. 

“You know it’s just misinformation nothing happened.” Tyler tried to reassure you that the photos were just nonsense but frankly this had happened one too many times. It wasn’t like you really had the image that Trent could actually go through with having sex with someone else but you just didn’t like that he was even entertaining another woman. It made you sick because you’d imagine he’d be comparing her to you.  

“No, I’m tired of ‘nothing happened,’ ‘it’s just a photo,’ ‘it looks worse than it was.’ It isn’t always about international footballer Trent Alexander Arnold’s image… Do you know what a fucking mug I look like? Sitting at home with his daughter and pregnant with his son? Why is he even entertaining it… why is he there to begin with?” You really lost it. You couldn’t hold it together anymore. Tears started to fill your lash line but you wiped them away with a tired gruff. You knew this was your brother in law but this was also Tyler’s job. 

“Y/N…” Tyler cautioned you trying to not let you get too worked up but the ball was already rolling. You couldn’t stop the crying. 

“No, I’m fucking sick of this. I can’t handle this” You sobbed. You gripped the kitchen counter top before just slamming your phone onto it and leaving the room. Tyler sighed letting you go, he knew you deserved to be mad. He wasn’t going to fight you on it but he was concerned by what you meant by your ability to ‘handle’ this. The thing that really sucked about being mad at Trent in these situations was that you would never keep him from Teddy. It was a little annoying that there had been multiple of these as well but you weren’t going to let his indiscretions or your anger towards him take away from her relationship with him. That said… you didn’t want to be there so you made Tyler call him with her before she went to bed.  

“Baby, where’s mummy?” Trent asked Teddy as he Facetimed Tyler who held her sitting on a stool at your kitchen island.  

“Um.. mama’s sad, dada. Sad in beddy, thinks.” Teddy babbled unknowingly, kind of spilling the fact that you’d really been upset over this. He knew that but knowing Teddy was conscious of it broke his heart all the more. Tyler’s eyes widened not realizing Teddy had even picked up on that.  “Why mama sad?” Teddy asked innocently.

“Mummy is tired.” Trent sighed. “Can you give her a big kiss from me?” Trent cooed kind of wishing he could just give you one himself.  

“Mate, you gotta get home now. This one was out of order.”  Tyler put Teddy down and readjusted in his seat. “She’s tired of your shit.” He quipped at Trent. 

“Ty, I didn’t do anything!” Trent yelped defending his innocence. 

“Bro, I’m not questioning that but they’re dragging her online, they’re dragging you. It’s a mess and you need to take care of your wife and your daughter. I’m worried about Y/N.” Tyler replied in a serious tone. “You lost and it was a shitty way to go out of the tournament but this was dumb. Get your ass home. You’re not 19 bro.” Tyler really drove home his point that Trent needed to leave asap. Tyler always had a delivery that made Trent shutter. He would never not make Trent feel young and naive. 

“Please come here, okay?” Trent trailed behind you in your bedroom when he returned to England days before he had anticipated. He listened to Tyler and left that night, returning the next morning for home. 

“T… I’m upset. Let me be upset. You can’t just make me change my mind to make you feel better.” You snapped turning around to look at him frustratingly. The only words you’d heard for the past couple hours were ‘I’m sorry’ and you weren’t all that convinced by them. 

“It’s not about me. It’s about our relationship. I’m sorry.” Trent frowned at you. He genuinely was apologetic, you knew that but it was almost agitating you more because he knew he had put himself in a stupid situation knowingly. It also was agitating you that you felt like you wanted to disappear realizing you were about to have a new born baby and embark on another fresh hell of your postpartum body again. You didn’t want to think about him with other women ever and certainly not right now given how you felt you looked.

“It is about you because who looks bad? I do and you're unphased. I’m upset Trent. It’s fine, okay? I let you do what you need to do. I get it you’re a ‘baller’ or whatever and you guys all love showing this sort of lifestyle.” Trent wanted to interrupt you and correct you. That wasn’t true. Trent didn’t really push that narrative but it just backed your point up a little better if he had. “But you know where I am… you know that I am carrying your fucking baby right now and your calling me what? While some girl is in the fucking house? Why is someone calling your name at 3:56 am? Tell me.” You tore into him remembering the exact time you’d hung up on him. “Why is there another American girl calling your name? Tell me about your night with her… Did you call me after… Did you call me because you felt guilty?” You started crying, gasping for breaths unable to control it.   

“That’s not fair. You know that’s not true or what happened here.” Trent pleaded for some sort of mercy but he knew he fucked up. You hadn't necessarily accused him of cheating, it was sort of hinted at but that wasn’t the point. You were upset about how shitty seeing his hands near another woman was making you feel about yourself.

“Fair! You want to talk about fair!?” You yelled between sobs. You stuck your hand out to distance him from coming any closer to you when he tried.

“Y/N… I’m sorry. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I was just trying to be chilled and relax with the boys. I didn’t want to make a big deal because I was getting chirped for being such a dad.” He woefully tried to explain, unknowingly digging his hole a bit deeper.  

“Hey, hmm maybe because you are a dad.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. “But you’re right… teammates over us always. Got it. Made that one proper clear.” You continue to sort of take digs at him for things that maybe weren’t the most accurate, and definitely a little too harsh  maybe. You didn’t feel that way but your insecurity about the photos and that familiar valley girl accent was haunting you. 

‘Hey, baby… the attitude isn’t necessary. I'm trying to apologize.” He looked at you both with a stern face not appreciating the jab knowing you two had to get through this but also absolutely terrified he’d upset you like this. 

“Well you shouldn’t have to apologize, you shouldn’t be doing this shit. You’re married, you are a father of two babies by the way. So, tell me about her? What’s her name?” You snapped as your emotions continued to run high. 

“I know! I know! And I fucked up. I don’t remember anyone they invited names, baby. Honest.” Trent once again took a misstep. Honestly, he was never great in arguments. You were. Your tactics weren’t the most fair but they were poignant.

“Oh, that’s brilliant you did all this for women you can’t even remember their names. Be honest and don’t fucking lie to me… did you touch her?” You made yourself feel sick asking him as you reimagined the blurred images. 

“Baby…” He didn’t want to talk about this. Tyler was right Trent was not 19 and this was not some silly cheating scandal. Trent probably shouldn’t have been in that position but he would never cheat on you. You knew that and he knew that you did. It had nothing to do with him, it was more about the ‘woman.’ You were playing that angle though because it was easier to rationalize but both you and Trent knew that this anger and this conversation was stemming from your insecurities. 

“Did they touch you?” You pushed for him to answer you. “Tell me. Did you get tired of the fact that while I carry your child for 9 months I don’t look like some Insta baddie worthy of a post World Cup party?” It was a big unfair blow. Trent felt like you punched him in the stomach. He shut his eyes, swallowing his need to defend himself and his pride. 

“No, absolutely not…” He whispered, throwing his head trying to refrain. 

“Did you touch her?” You asked him and he paused for a bit longer than you would’ve liked. “Oh my god… fuck you. Honestly.” You cried falling into more sobs as you sat on your bed dropping your head into your hands.

“Y/N, let me at least fucking answer. No… Fine, a woman tried and I told her to get away from me. That's what the photo is. I was moving her off me, alright?” He explained.  It should’ve made you feel better but it didn’t. It wasn’t enough to shake the idea that your body currently couldn’t compete with some LA model’s.

“Why T… Why would you? Fuck… Am I not enough, you needed to seek out more? You want me to be this confident strong woman for Teddy and it’s things like this that just rip me apart. My husband, her father had other women practically in his lap… and I’m… I’m just. I can’t manage it.” You’d gotten to a place where you would always remember the pain and trouble you endured mentally from your damaged self image.You could forgive yourself, but you’d never forget all the insecurity and hatred and right now Trent’s night in LA had you remembering every piece of your past. You’d healed a lot. It was one of those situations where you had a hard time accepting your own treatment of yourself and the only person you could fault was yourself. Trent said no. It wasn’t even a competition for Trent. He’d pick you everytime but you were taking this out on him.

“You… you are more than enough. I never want anything but you. I'm so sorry I made a mistake even going but I definitely didn’t make a mistake getting myself out of there. I called you in my room, alone because I missed you, baby. It was a lapse in judgment. I’m a fucking idiot putting the most important thing in my life at risk for my ego to be cool for them.” He cooed sitting down next to you. You caught yourself sat on the bed now beside him in the mirror. It was the perfect storm. Emotions high, Trent’s error, pregnancy kicking your ass. You didn’t recognize yourself. You saw a woman who was overweight you’d never met. The problem was that you were underweight and no one could convince you otherwise. It was obsession and all you could think about as Trent yapped a heartfelt apology was that her arms, that women standing in between your husbands legs was that her arms looked thinner than yours, her collarbones raised a bit more. You weren’t sure if you really were upset about their positioning or her presenting the idea of a more attractive option to Trent. 

“T… I worry every time you leave. I really do trust you… I do but it’s like sickening sometimes knowing the temptation that is literally thrown in your lap.” You had been on a relentless and unattainable pursuit of visual perfection and that fear and distortion you hid in and it came storming back. 

“There is no temptation. There is no one that is you. No one could ever be you. Nothing could fill the void you’d leave behind if I didn’t have you. You are my world. I would crumble without you.” He began to cry.  “I’m so sorry.” He leaned his head on your shoulder attempting to take a deep breath. Trent hated arguments. He hated confrontation, and he hated that sometimes he felt like he couldn’t win against your disordered way of thinking. 

“It’s fine, T…” you whispered consoling him, cupping his cheek. You’d made progress with your health but it definitely felt like you’d revert back to old ways of thinking the second some sort of comparison was thrown at you and that’s exactly what this was. 

“It’s not, baby. I love you. God, I fucking love you.” Trent whimpered trying to reel in his own emotions. He kissed your shoulder and it made you take a deep breath. 

“I love you.” you whispered again. The words were tiny and fragile. Trent pouted seeing your tear stained face. His pout turned into a soft frown when he looked up at you. You both sat there in and out of tears. Trent was a light that gave you a strength you weren’t sure you even wanted to have sometimes. He gave you a happiness that you weren’t sure was even humanly possible and you hated that you questioned your worth despite not only the love he gave you but the belief and support. “Please, don’t stop loving me.” You barely were able to mutter out. Trent let out a defeated breath and pulled you into a hug. “I don’t think I can do it without you. Sometimes I think that this unconditional love I have for you makes me feel more insecure because I just want you to be happy and if that’s what someone else does for you. I’d let it happen” You shamefully admitted.

“Stop, baby. Never could someone make me as happy as you. I need to be better but.. You also have to be better for me. It kills me when you think like this.” Trent sighed. “I need you to know that that’s insane. I’d be insane to want anything else but you. I’m so sorry, baby. I never want to lose you.”  You could tell he was about to rant. 

“Please just shhh, baby. I don’t need an apology from you right now. I just need you.” You explained calmly and honestly just needing your husband, your Trent to hold you and so he did. You stayed quiet for a long time after that, moving to lay on your bed. 

“T… Is it okay if we don’t have sex tonight?” You sheepishly asked. You weren’t sure why you were asking. He never pressured you. You just weren’t sure you’d be able to stomach it still kind of fixated on your own insecurities. 

“What? Yeah, course. You haven’t been doing it lately because of me right? You’ve done it because you wanted to, yeah? Baby, whatever you want, I’ll do.” Trent cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“No no, I’ve been fine. I just… I just want to be with my best friend tonight. I’m just a little tired and still a little sad.” You told him, hiding your face in the nape of his neck.  

“I’m right here, baby. Never ever leaving you. Won’t ever leave. I never want to hurt you and I’m sorry I did. I love you so much.” Trent cooed, pulling you into a tight embrace. He rested his chin on top of your head. 

“You can’t imagine how much I love you.” You spoke. Your voice muffled by your proximity to his skin.  

“I think I can…” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your hair. You were quiet for a moment before he pulled your face off him and held your face in his hands. “Baby?”  He cooed. You sympathetically smiled at him, still a little sad. “I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself for Teddy. If she’s anything like you when she’s older she’ll be perfect to me. Even now, when I see glimpses of you in her. It’s everything to me. That’s all I want and when I think about our little boy and Teddy the most important thing is that they know how much I love you. I just want them to not just hear me say it or see it, I want them to be able to see and feel how much I love their mum, how much I respect you and believe in you, how beautiful you are, how amazing you are and I want them to know that. We are so so lucky to have you, baby.”  You smiled and a few tears escaped. He wiped them off your smooth skin. “Tell me something.” He sat up. “Can you do me a favor?” He smiled back at you. Your brow furrowed a little surprised given the circumstances. You were about to be having a month full of gifts and you were sure about that. Post fight? Yeah. Before leaving for preseason? Surely. Push presents? Definitely. You doing something for him? Questionable. “Tell me what you think I love about you.” You shook your head in defiance. “Yeah, go on.” He nodded at you.  

“T, I don’t know!” You whined with a pout not wanting to do this. 

“Well, what do I tell you I like.” He smiled, leaning over kissing your shoulder.  

“I don’t know… my ass.” You sheepishly threw out one. He hummed and nodded for you to continue. “This is stupid.” You muttered but he gestured for you to keep talking. “My tits.” He nodded with confirmation. “My lips.” He hummed again with assurance. “My toes.” You laughed and he laughed with you knowing he recently commented that he liked your white pedicure. You were grasping at straws for ideas.  It wasn’t that Trent didn’t tell you things he liked, in fact just the opposite. 

“You’re sort of right. But baby, you could literally name any part.  I love every fucking inch of you inside and out. Your missing volumes of things I love about you. You know me, I don’t fucking like to lose and I’m not loosing this. I’m going to get you to love you the way I love you.” He wiped his thumb over your lips with a glint in his eyes. “I wish you could just see the way we see you. Be brave for me right now. Tell me what you thought when I was in LA. Like mouth off, baby. You need to learn to back yourself. Give me a ‘you’re a fucking idiot because I’m sexy.’” He gave you a cheeky smile knowing this was something you wouldn’t want to do but hoping you’d do it for him. You thought for a moment and smiled. 

“You couldn’t have created a prettier baby with anyone else.” You smiled back at him. He squinted at you. It was a little bit of a passive one. You really we’re complementing both Teddy and him in the process. 

“I’ll take it butt I was looking for more of a ‘I’m the lengest girl you’ve ever seen, you’re lucky I gave you a chance.’” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. “I want to hear one of these everyday. Remind me and yourself everyday that you’re it baby.” He kissed you a few times. 

“Thank you for loving all of my imperfections.” You smiled into the kiss. 

“They are not imperfections, they are what makes you everything you are and everything I’m madly in love with.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight into him. He swayed you back and forth with a hum and a few kisses. “The fact that I get to just be in your presence. Get to experience you in my life and be a part of yours, it’s the biggest blessing. I have never seen a more beautiful person inside and out, baby. Please don’t ever forget that. You’re incredible.” He kissed you a couple more times. You muttered out a ‘thank you.’ “Do you believe me?” He brushed his nose against yours. 

“I think I am starting to. I like… life with you. Our life. I feel like I used to dread the lulls and now it’s like there could never be enough time in this life with you or my babies. I just crave more of it all. You made me like to live” You giggled a little. “Sorry, I know that sounds dramatic.” You shyly smiled.  

“Good.” He kissed once more, sealing how much he loved you. Things would always be hard but progress was being made slowly and you think that’s what made you so upset. It felt like you took a few steps backwards when Trent went to LA but as he held you, you knew things were better than they’d actually ever been. You believed what he was telling you. 

“Want to go see mama and dada, Celly.” Teddy huffed, kicking her dangling legs back and forth off a chair in a hospital waiting room. You had gone into labor hours ago. Teddy wasn’t even there the whole time but she was getting restless. 

“Nah, you don’t. You want to hang with me, yeah?” Marcel laughed, pulling her towards her. She wiggled out of his hold. 

“Nosss humph.” Teddy huffed again, folding her arms over her chest. She was still holding on to some serious resentment towards him because of his relationship with Gracie.

“What’s with the attitude?” Marcel laughed a little more. He shouldn’t but he almost fueled her behavior because he thought it was funny the way she huffed about but still managed to remain really cute. 

“My Celly only, tays?”  She repeated her statement that had been on a loop lately to him. She wanted him to understand that Gracie had to go in her mind. That wasn’t really an option nor her decision but she’d try. 

“Sweetheart, come on! You're always going to be my best friend, I promise.” Marcel reassured her, picking her up and placing her on his lap. She smiled greedily and giggled happy with his confirmation. “Alright, so we’re good now?” He asked her and she nodded content that she was now sitting with him. “Good. I have some questions for you. How small do you think he’ll be?” He asked her just to keep her busy for god knows how much longer. 

“Small.” Teddy simply confirmed. He hummed, agreeing.  

“What do you think his name will be?” He asked her another question, one of many he was starting to think of.  

“Tom.” Teddy answered again very matter of fact. She said it as if she knew that was 100% correct. 100% going to be your son’s name but Marcel knew that wasn’t going to be the case. He was pretty sure he knew the names you’d narrowed it down to and ‘Tom wasn’t on that list. 

“Tom? Why?” He laughed a little at her. “You know what? Okay. My nephew Tom Alexander-Arnold. Got it.” He smiled as she nodded, verifying.   

“Did so well sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” Dianne cooed, giving you a gentle hug. You smiled at her with tear filled eyes. She and your mum were the first to come into the private room to meet your son. Early that evening you and Trent welcome your baby boy Theo James Alexander-Arnold into the world. He was perfect and there were no disagreements with that fact. Thankfully this time around both of your families were here and on time for the delivery, Trent included. 

“Let’s see him then.” Tyler came into the room shortly after to meet little Theo. You offered if he wanted to hold him but really you were having trouble even being a foot apart from him. “Ready to play in the prem, mate?” Tyler smiled running the back of his finger over his chubby cheek. This was already a running joke before you even had Teddy that there was this predetermined destiny for a child of Trent’s to play football but it really kicked off once all the boys in your life found out you were having a son. It was all in good fun of course but at the moment you were really emotional. You pouted at Trent sadly. He took Theo back from Tyler but not before giving him a reassuring nod that he was sure that that was going to happen. He kissed Theo and placed him in your arms softly.  

“No, he’s going to stay with mummy forever.” You held Theo to your skin letting his head rest against your chest as you began to cry again. “Never ever leaving my perfect baby boy.” You frowned looking at how adorable he looked. Trent hushed you sliding next to you on the hospital bed, taking a seat. “He’s so perfect. I love him.”  You explained to him but kept your eyes locked on him.

“Yeah, I know, baby. You did so well. Look at him. I actually think he looks a little like me.” Trent teased running his hand gently over his son's head.  You started blubbering crying. Trent let out a sympathetic breathy laugh at you. “Hey, just joking. It’s okay.” He kissed your forehead. 

“He looks like you. He looks just like you, T and he’s perfect… and beautiful.”  You kept crying. You were a mess. You don’t know why you felt so protective this time around. Of course you did with Teddy but you were also slightly terrified having it be your first pregnancy. 

“He’s pretty cute, huh?” Trent asked you inspecting your little boy. You nodded. Trent was emotional after Theo was born. He was balling in fact. 

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, beautiful. You’re did so amazing.” Trent kept his lips pressed to your hair. You could feel him shake a little. He was crying. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you had created one more little miracle that was finally in your arms. Theo Alexander-Arnold was an exact replica of Trent, marginally more than Teddy even was. You could already make out the little dimples indented in his cheeks. His nose, the shape of lips, everything was perfectly matched and perfectly cute.  “He’s everything baby. I’m so in love with him.” He cooed, eyes full of tears as he ran his hand over Theo’s head. “I am so grateful for you and all the sacrifices you’ve made for us and for him. I love you so much, beautiful.” He whimpered, leaning over more to see him. He gently nudged his nose against Theo’s tiny identical one. Theo batted his eyes open and Trent sucked in breath. The same perfectly warm deep brown eyes he had looking back at him. He fell in love instantly, completely in awe.   “He’s so beautiful. I can’t believe we made him.” You cried through a smile tugging at your lips as you inspected the tiny cherubic figure in your arms. Trent looked at you. You were absolutely glowing. Your eyes were tear stained but shining bright, filled with love. You were flush but your skin had never been softer. You were perfect. His heart swelled to the point where he got a little nervous it was possible it could burst. He would do anything for you and that little boy, Teddy too. 

“Shhh, baby. You’re okay. Just close your eyes for me, alright? Can you try to rest for a little while?” He asked you. You initially tried to say no  “Your boys will stay right here with you, I promise.” You gasped in a breath hearing ‘your boys’ for the first time in your life starting up crying again. Trent delicately took Theo out of your hold.

“Oh my gosh… You guys are making me cry stop.” Winnie cried along with you sitting in a chair in the room. Having missed your first birth she was a mess seeing you. Trent rolled his head to see Winnie pouting looking at you two.  

“Okay.. Okay.. come on though. Let’s go see mummy and daddy and your new brother.” Marcel cooed to Teddy holding her hand coming into the room. 

“Mummy matter?” Teddy yelped out too loud despite Marcel’s earlier instructions to be quiet. He laughed, shaking his head at her disregard once she saw you laying in the bed with an IV in your arm. She ran to the side of the bed Trent was seated on and he smiled with a laugh as she attempted to use him to climb onto the bed. “You tay?” She asked you, concerned. 

“I’m okay, Teddy girl. Come here, baby.” You smiled and reassured her. Winnie picked her up to help Trent and placed her on the bed between you two. “Can you say hi to your baby brother?” You asked her quietly. She tilted her head actually taking a closer look at the swaddled baby in Trent’s arms she hardly noticed before. 

“Hi baby. Is my Celly?” She asked you sitting up to peer into Trent’s arms that made you laugh a little. 

“Yeah, but this is your baby brother, Theo. Have to look after him and be the best big sister for me, okay, baby?” You cooed, running your hand over Theo’s head gently. Trent reached towards her and pulled her onto his lap with a kiss to her head and helped her hold Theo in front of him.

“Oh Tio… hmm.” Teddy spoke looking at the baby in her arms. “Hi Tio, we can share my mummy, tay?” She cooed kissing him. She was so sweet and gentle it made you start crying again. Winnie quick to follow. You guessed for the foreseeable future he would be ‘Tio’ to Teddy as opposed to ‘Theo’ with an h.

“What about daddy? Gonna share me too?” Trent asked her, dropping his head to press the side of his cheek to hers looking at Theo. 

“Nos tanks.” She replied with zero hesitation. Very sure of herself that daddy was not going to be on the table yet but she’d settle sharing you. 

“Teddy, can you watch mummy for me? I’m just going to get her a drink from the kitchen quickly, okay?” Trent asked Teddy standing up from the couch. A few days passed of having Theo in your lives and you were exhausted. You had fallen asleep next to Teddy. Theo was in a bassinet. Trent didn’t really need her to do anything but it’d make her feel important. It was important to make Teddy not feel left out despite all the focus on him. He could see and hear Theo from the kitchen and you’d be fine. You needed sleep.  

“Tay, dada.” Teddy confirmed plopping her head onto you. You shuffled a little maternally knowing it was your little girl without a thought. You pulled her into you instinctually.  

“Dada, mummy won’t let goes.” Teddy complained a little while later after Trent returned and you still hadn’t released her. She was getting bored.  

“Oh, I’m sorry baby.” He laughed. You looked happy with Teddy but he knew she was getting restless. He kissed your cheek a few times settling behind you before leaning to whisper into your ear. “Can you let go of our Teddy bear, please.” He smiled, flashing a wink up to Teddy. She giggled when you reluctantly let go of her. “C’mere. Can give me a cuddle instead, yeah?” Trent cooed pulling you back into him burying his face into the nap of your neck, kissing your skin. 

“Hello big sister.” Dianne cooed as Teddy ran to the front door to greet her after she let herself in to your house.  

“Nana shhh! Mama sleep with dada and baby.” Teddy explained to Dianne pushing her finger flush against her lips signaling her to be quiet. 

“Oh goodness. I’m sorry, are they upstairs?” Dianne asked her, lowering her voice. You knew Dianne was coming over but of course, she didn’t know what room you’d be in. She smiled, letting Teddy take her hand and drag her into the living room where you were after Teddy answered a simple ‘nos’ to her question. 

“Hey mum.” Trent lowly whispered, sitting up a bit but keeping you in his arms. “Sorry, Y/N just finally is sleeping. I didn’t want to get up. I’m not sure the last time she slept so…” Trent gave Dianne a sympathetic smile. 

“It’s good for her to rest. Let me see that beautiful boy. Looks just like daddy, huh?” Dianne gently picked up Theo from his bassinet as he began to wake. “Teddy girl, come with me and Theo to get you a snack. Want to come with us to the kitchen?” Diane asked Teddy who had just plopped herself on the carpet. Dianne winked at Trent knowing it’d probably be nice to just have a moment with no kids even if it was only for five minutes, even if they were only in the other room. 

“Hi…” You pouted as you woke up exhausted in Trent’s arms. Your eyes fluttered open more as you nuzzled into him until panic rushed through your entire body. “Wait! Where is he? T…” You looked at him terrified, almost on the verge of tears. God, you were so tired. 

“Baby, he’s with my mum. He’s okay. You’re okay. I got ya.” He cooed gently, kissing your lips. You nodded relieved. He leaned forward a little more and you thought he was going to kiss you again. You tilted your head ready to let your lips meet. He didn’t though. Instead Trent ran the tip of his nose against yours. You left out a shaky breath as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, I’ve got Teddy, and I’ve got Theo. Promise I will take care of all of you.” He whispered. You felt your heart falter hearing him. 

“We’re so lucky to have you daddy.” You smiled. You were going to say more but you heard Teddy’s giggle along with the scamper of your dogs come rushing out of the kitchen. Suddenly Theo’s cries began. Trent cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your skin. He gave you a cheeky smile. He sat up and you sighed as he pulled you with him. 

“Where you going baby bear!” Trent cooed, reaching out and nabbing Teddy mid run swinging her off the ground. Her giggles continuing. You got up and took Theo back from Dianne as they entered the room and calmed him down. Trent came to you with Teddy in one of his arms and pulled you and your little boy into them with his other. “They're ours, baby. All ours.” He laughed a little and you sighed before he pecked your lips. You smiled up at him with a happiness you never wanted to loose and returned the kiss.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter and the entire series 🤍

I cannot believe the series is officially over. I really can't express how much I loved talking about this with anyone that has messaged. The first part of The Epilogue is out now! I hope the official conclusion will do Y/N and Trent's story justice.

The End 🫶🤍✨🧸

[miguelschamp]

daylight

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj helps you enjoy your day with your friends

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff

a/n: hii !! this is my first imagine, so bare with me. i’m up for any constructive criticism and requests are open for quite literally anyone. :))

you’ve had your fair share of terrible relationships. they normally lasted only a couple of months, but your most recent was probably the worst.

he never wanted to be around you, but never wanted you to be around anyone else. he wanted to control what you wore or who you spoke to.

he would call and text all hours of the night to “check up” on you. yelling and screaming at you for small things. you never felt like you did anything right. it was torture.

and jj knew this. he hated the guy just as much as the rest of your friends did, if not more.

so, when you started dating, he tried his best to be gentle with you whenever it came to talking to you or dealing with you in any way.

“you okay, princess ?” you hear. you look up to see him standing over you with a content look on his face.

you and the pogues decided to have a day out in the marsh. everyone loading onto the boat with snacks and drinks. you guys had found a spot about an hour ago and everyone else quickly jumped into the water. splashing each other and enjoying themselves.

you stayed behind on the boat just watching them. jj noticed that you had been quiet for most of the day and while he was worried about you, he didn’t want to push.

“yeah.” you nod, but jj knew you weren’t being completely honest. he takes a spot beside you.

“what’s going on in your pretty little head ?” he asks as he sets his arms on his knees

you smile softly, “not much. i’m just thinking.”

“about what ?”

“myself.” you mumble, “i feel like i’m not doing anything right.”

“what do you mean ?” he says with furrowed brows

“like, even now.” you say facing everyone, “i’m here on the boat sulking while everyone else is having fun. you had to come over here to come check on me.”

“i didn’t have to. i wanted to.” he clarifies, “i care about you and i don’t want to see you upset.”

“but i don’t even actually know why i’m upset. i just know i’m upset with myself.”

jj eyes search your face as you sigh. he stands up before holding his hand out, “come on.”

you look up at him, “what ?”

“come on.” he says again. you take his hand standing up. “take your shoes off.”

he smiles as your face scrunches up, but you take your flip flops off, “okay.”

as soon as you slide your shoes off, jj lifts you up over his shoulder. you squeal as your hands touch his back.

“jj, what are you doing ?”

“getting you out of your head.” he says. you can see him moving over toward the bow.

“jj, no.” you say quickly, “i still have my shorts on.”

“i’m sure they’ll be dry by the time we get home.”

“jj-“

you’re cut off by your own scream as jj jumps in the water. his arm never leaves your waist as you go under. you gasp as you both come to the surface. your hands immediately wiping your eyes as jj chuckles.

“holy shit, that’s cold.” you say

“i know.” he says. as your eyes land on him, you couldn’t help, but smile at him.

“thank you.” you say. instead of responding, jj pulls you closer. your arms going around his neck as he kisses you.

you smile into it before pulling away. he chases you pecking your lips a couple of times getting you to let out a laugh.

“i love you.” he says as your smile widens

“i love you.”

“y/n/n !” kie yells, “come here, i need you on my team.”

you both look over to see the girl waving you over frantically. you turn back to jj, “i’ll race you.”

“you’re on.” jj smiles. you push away before immediately swimming over. “oh, fuck, you’re such a cheater.”

you giggle as you swim away. jj not far behind you.

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace-2

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious

Word count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Part 1~Part 3

"What? Am I hearing this right? The Carlos Sainz, famous Ferrari Formula One driver approached you, in an alleyway, during your smoke break and paid you three hundred euros to hide in a cramped bathroom with you.” One of your best friends from high school screams into your ear. You can’t help but cringe, hearing exactly just how famous he is. You blow the smoke from your cigarette and gaze out across your balcony.  

You wish you could say the view is beautiful, with the Eiffel Tower in the background with music of the people in the background. It’s none of that though. The view is another apartment block, and you so wished the man on the balcony would close the curtains. You avoid the balcony in the fear of getting treated to a view of his wrinkled body. How you wish you didn’t have to deal with the gross apartment building.  

“Um...Yes...?” You reply, not really sure what to say. “Not only that, Jasmine, but he then gave her his number and said he would make sure he would see her again!” Your other best friend, Ilsa, on the group call squeals out. You facepalm, knowing they can’t see you, but still, your embarrassment is uncontainable. “What are you going to say?” Jas asks, you can already hear her plotting.  

Your silence says a thousand words. “You are going to text him, right?” Ilsa clarifies and they go quiet only to hear your sigh. “What would I say? Hi, mister million-dollar man, I really liked being cramped in a bathroom with you, and would love to do it again!” You scoff at the ridiculousness of it all and take another puff from your cig. “I mean...” Jas says but you quickly shoot the idea down.  

“Okay, okay, how about this? Address the elephant in the room. Tell him you googled him and then ask him what exactly he wants with you.” Ilsa suggests and it actually doesn’t sound that bad. Your stomach rumbles and as you open the fridge door you can’t help but sigh. Some old cabbage, one egg and a pack of cheap tomato sauce. Another hungry night.  

“Yeah, so that you can be prepared if he just wants a quick fuck!” Jas calls out and again you can’t help but cringe. “Jasmine!” You yell out, glad they can’t see you blush. Even that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s been weeks since someone touched you with any sort of kind intent. Much less how close you two were today. 

 You’d already given the full three hundred euros to your landlord. He just scowled asking where the rest of it is. Not to mention, the electricity is threatening to shut off. Along with the student loans, water bills, phone bills, and insurance, everything is piling up and you feel like you can’t pick up enough shifts to survive.  

I hear her groan, “Come on, Y/N, this could be a really great opportunity for you.” This time it’s Ilsa encouraging you. She’s right, maybe a little distraction from life is just what you need. Not to mention you’d do anything to look at that handsome face of his one more time. The photos and videos online don’t even come close. He’s so much more even just being near him makes you want to beg him to hold you.  

“Fine, but if he gave me a fake number, I’ll ignore you guys for a week.” It’s an empty threat as always. “Yes, of course, as expected.” Jas’ voice is dripping in sarcasm. “I’ve got to go, je vous aime les gars, au revoir.” Ilsa says goodbye, and with that, the call ends. Dinner, wouldn’t that be such a good idea? You open your banking up only to see but a meek two hundred left for the end of the month.  

While you’re on your phone, you might as well text him...right? 

Y/N: I assume you wanted me to google you when you gave me your real name?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: And, do I live up to the pictures?  

Y/N: No, you’re much shorter in real life 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: A dagger in my heart! 

Y/N: 😝  

Y/N: I’m glad you didn’t give me a fake number then. But I can’t help but ask what exactly it is you want with me?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: How about this: I’ll explain it all to you on our first date 

Y/N: You intrigue me... 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: When do you get off from work, tomorrow?  

Y/N: I work the morning, until lunch tomorrow. So I’m free from 16:00 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up at 18:00. Wear something nice.  

What on earth am I thinking? He could kidnap me! And yet you find yourself in front of your closet picking the one nice dress you bought for your first interview. It’s a simple black, form-fitting on the top but flares at the bottom with frills on the sleeves. It looks so boring to wear on a date with someone like him, but it’s all you have. 

 Along with the only heels you have, once more plain black chunky pumps. Your hair lays right below your shoulders in your natural waves and curls.

You can’t help but groan at your situation and throw a pack of cigarettes into your handbag. It’s a bad habit, you know and everyone around you has told you so many times to stop. But it’s so hard to when living in France and not only that it’s the only thing that seems to help.  

You finish it off with a red lip, hoping to add a slight bit of colour to the dull outfit. Not that you have much time to think of something else, at exactly six, there is a knock on the door. With your heart in your ears, you open the door to Carlos holding a bouquet of pink tulips. 

Not only that but he looks ravishing in black dress pants and a dress shirt, but of course with the sleeves rolled up. You bite your lip, already wanting to jump his bones.  

That tan skin of his has you imagining him, shirtless under the hot summer sun on a Mediterranean beach somewhere. Not only that but his hair seems to fall perfectly in place. So soft and silky and voluminous. Your hand twitches, wanting to rake through his inky black strands and then, of course, ask him about his hair-care routine.  

“How did you know these are my favourites?” You ask, walking inside and placing them in the sink before returning to him. He shrugs, “I have my ways. But enough about that. Querida, you look enchanting.” He takes your hand and guides you to a spin, showing off all of you. Your dress flows and his touch is like fire lighting in your body.  

“Really? I hope it’s fancy enough, it’s all I own, and I don’t really have the money to buy something right now.” You say with a blush coating your cheeks. Why would you tell him that? Now he’s going to think you want him to buy you a new dress. Or maybe you’re only going on the date because you know who he is.  

“Of course, niña bonita, I’m honoured to have such a pretty lady on my arm.” He then takes your hand and helps you down the stairs. And his words cause a blush on the tips of your ears. He helps you all the way to his fire-red Ferrari. “Woah....” You can’t help but utter out, you’ve never been so close to such an expensive car and the fear of breaking it looms in the back of your mind. 

“You like, niña bonita? Comes with the job, of course.” He winks and then opens the door for you, which of course opens upwards. You can’t help but let out a playful scoff, “Duh, of course!” He chuckles at your reaction. “You must tell me if I’m going too fast, no? I like speed of course.” His wink shoots electricity through your skin, not only that but that breath taking smile of his. 

 You don’t have a licence, you never needed one living in France all your life. Even in the smaller town where you grew up, you could walk everywhere. And yet the way he speeds down the freeway causes a thrill to tickle your toes.

Every time he switches the gears, his forearm muscles flex and you have to control yourself. Not to mention, he doesn’t even have road rage, every move, every turn, every gear shift is as smooth as can be.  

If it wasn’t for your culinary degree you’re certain you wouldn’t have understood anything on the menu. Even so, you’d been eyeing this place for a while and some of them you’re still unsure how to pronounce. What shocks you the most is the prices, some things on the menu are half the price of your rent. “What do you think of getting?” He asks, leaning back in his seat. “Um...the breadsticks?” He looks over his menu and raises his brow.  

“The breadsticks are free?” He clarifies, those luscious brows of his furrow in confusion and you nod with a smile. You try not to show him how nervous a fancy place like this makes you. And also how you yearn to be at home in a place like this. “Yes.” He sighs, “Niña terca, I am paying, pick what you want.” That actually makes you feel even worse.  

“Oh, no, it’s alright you don’t have to. I brought my wallet.” You reply, clutching your purse as a reminder. “It is not up for discussion.” He replies, going back to the wine list he’s holding. The guilt shoots through you. You desperately need to accept the money but stil your mother’s manners creep up on you. “Then the...salad.” He rolls his eyes and takes your menu and closes it for you. 

 You go to protest, but he calls over the waiter before you can. “The lady will have the Salmon Meuniere and I shall have the steak. With the Chilled Pinot Noir.” Again, he chooses your favourite option. “How did you....” As if he knows exactly what you’re about to ask, he just shrugs, “We must have similar taste.” 

The fact of these two choices being so similar doesn’t make you suspicion. Instead, it makes you feel warm and at home almost. How similar are you two already, and how much more can fall into place? You eye him, raising your brow as he too studies you. “What is it, estimada. You want to say something.” He guides with his hand to open up the conversation.  

“How do you know?” You ask, in awe of how much detail he sees. He chuckles and then leans forward and smooths out the area around your eyes by your temples. “You get this crinkle, when you are holding something back. I noticed it yesterday.” You can’t help but blush and cover your face.

“It’s my job, estimada. To notice the small things, in the car, in the track, in the ladies I like.” His words are smooth like butter and those dark eyes of his stare you down.  

The waiter comes and pours your wine and places down your food. You take a sip from the cool beverage. “You owe me an explanation.” You shrug, the only response you give. Not trusting your throat. His jaw locks tight and he leans in a bit closer to you. He bites down on the juicy steak and the way his jaw muscle flexes causes obscene thoughts to fly through you.  

“What I tell you next is not to be known by anyone besides you and me. Let’s put it like so, my managers believe that I should, how you say, casarse ya.” He switches to Spanish so easily. You have no idea what he said but merely nod along. All while savouring the taste of the perfectly cooked salmon and expensive wine that pairs so well.  

“I turn 34 next year, one of the oldest on the grid. They believe that I should stop wasting my time and just settle down already. My publicist also believes it would get more sponsors and boost my public image. So, I am coming to you with an offer.” I raise my brow; I knew this would be too good to be true.  

I should have known that someone like him wouldn’t bother getting close to someone like me. Clearly only there to entertain the people as always. Does he want pity points from his fans? Embracing a poor Frenchwoman from the slums. Doing some sort of charity work? I cross my arms and lean back; I can tell that he sees me retracting from the conversation entirely.  

But still, I allow him to continue. “I will pay you, any amount you wish, shopping, jewels, vacations, even something more practical like the rent or student bills. In return, you pretend to be my long-term girlfriend. You come with me to the races, show up in the paddock, and tag along in interviews. The whole deal.” He bites those plump lips of his and now you wish he’d be more hideous.  

For once he actually looks a bit nervous. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at this. “So...like a sugar daddy situation...?” He senses your resentment towards the idea and is careful to reply. “I suppose so,” his eyes seem to panic and you can’t believe your ears.

You grab your purse, “I can’t believe you, Carlos! I thought I’d finally met a decent well-off guy, but no. Ces foutus garçons. Je ne peux jamais faire confiance aux hommes. Jamais!”  

You can’t help but switch to your native language. The translator in your mind fails due to your anger and you can feel tears prick in the walls of your eyes. With your purse in hand, you push your seat back and in a rage go to leave. But suddenly you’re forced back down onto your chair by Carlos’ firm grasp on your wrist.  

“¡Siéntate, niña testaruda, y escucha!” His translator too, is out the window. You pout and cross your arms, shocked at his audacity. “Listen here, and listen well, little girl, because I can clearly see you are in desperate need of some discipline. Mocoso.” He leans over you and the way he speaks with such a demanding voice makes your core ache. And yet you can’t help but want to defy him more.  

He sits down again but is clearly ready to catch again if needed. He then grabs you by the chin and makes sure you look him into those swirling brown eyes. So dangerous and ready to attack if need be. “I can see it in your eyes, dollface. I can see it in the way you eye the Porche that passes, the Louis Vuitton handbag in the window and the most expensive item on the menu.” 

Has your eye really been wandering so much? Or is his attention to detail so fine-tuned? If it weren’t for his hand clasping your chin, you’d long since would’ve looked away. “You have champagne taste and I’m giving you the whole vineyard. Don’t make another stupid choice and accept the offer. I won’t ask again.”  

His voice is strong and commanding and the way he speaks makes you want to get down on your knees and open your mouth for him. He lets go of your jaw, allowing you to speak. “And if I want something more?” You ask and can’t help but dial up the charm fluttering your dark lashes. He smirks watching you go from bratty to begging.  

“I can feel the chemistry too, estimada and I can see the need burning behind those eyes of yours. If this were to become something more, then so be it. And if you want this to be a quick fling and your intro into the limelight, then so be it. And if you want it to only be an exchange of money and appearance, so be it too.” He shrugs, watching your reaction to each option.  

Then he turns serious again. “That all can be decided later. What must be decided now, is whether you’ll join me or not. I must apologize that I can’t give you much time to think about it, I have an early flight tomorrow. You’ll have to join me.” I furrow my brows, I thought he had the whole week? Anyways a choice must be made....  

My taglist is open! If you wish to be tagged in this story alone, please comment or reblog with the words 'tag'. And if you wish to be tagged in all my posts please comment or reblog with the words 'tag all'.

[biancadjarin]

Bully!Eddie visiting you during

your shift at scoops ahoy

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

18+

“So you and Munson looked pretty cozy at Tommy’s party the other night…” Steve Harrington says as he comes to lean against the counter next to you. You turn to face him with a confused look. He giggles at you, “Look, I know you just started working here but… I don’t know, I’d hate for someone like you to get mixed up with a freak like him.” You wince at Steve’s words. “Someone like me?” You ask innocently.

“Oh,” Steve starts, hands coming up to squeeze your upper arms before falling to his sides again. “I just mean you seem really nice. You could do better than him.” He says sincerely. You shrug, “Eddie and I aren’t dating. Far from it actually.” You shake your head. He nods, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a smile peeking through his lips.

“He’s just always messing with me.” You clarify, “He made me sit on his lap that night but it was nothing.” You say with a shrug and an easy smile. “Made you?” Steve asks as the bell on the counter gets smacked with a ding ding. “Speak of the devil.” Steve grumbles under his breath.

“Hey Harrington. Nice hat.” Eddie says with a laugh. “Keeping my girl busy tonight?” He says, eyes flicking up and down your frame, then looking back at Steve with a wink.

“I’m not your girl Eddie. What are you doing here?” “Aww babe, you hurt my feelings.” He says with a mock pout on his perfect lips. “I just came by to say hi. And maybe get a scoop.” He says eyeing the case of flavors. Steve shakes his head and sighs, his gaze returning to you. “I’m gonna go to the back and do some inventory. Just yell if you need anything.” He says as his hand comes to rest on your lower back.

“I think she’ll be ok Steve, so why don’t you move your hand before I do it for you?” Eddie’s jaw tenses. Steve shoots him a glare and if he wasn’t at work, you think he might’ve punched him. But thankfully he doesn’t, just retreating to the back to work.

You sigh. “So are you going to order something? Because I have better things to do.” You say with an edge to your voice. Eddie looks over each shoulder, scanning the empty shop. “Really? Cause it’s pretty dead in here babe.” He laughs. “Whatever, do you want a sample of anything?” “Ohh well if you’re offering, sure I’ll take a sample of a kiss.” He pouts at you. You scoff, “of the ice cream, genius.” You hold back the smile that so badly wants to creep onto your lips.

“Hmm everything looks so good.” He says. “Especially you.” You roll your eyes. His ringed knuckle taps on the glass loudly. “I’ll just take a scoop of pistachio. With extra sprinkles.” He draws out the sss sound on the last word and it makes you shiver, goosebumps erupting on your arms. You hope he doesn’t notice, or just chalks it up to the cold.

“Here.” You hand him his ice cream. He takes a big lick, rainbow bits of candy sticking to his mouth like they want to taste him as much as you do. “What’s your favorite flavor?” He asks you, chin jutting towards you, round chocolate colored eyes flickering with mischief.

You look down at your options. You’re not a huge fan of ice cream but there is one flavor that you order every time. “Strawberry.” You say sweetly. Eddie stares at you, your soft voice putting him in a trance.

You’re both quiet for a minute while he licks his cone, until he says “a scoop of that too.” suddenly. You look at him with pulled together eyebrows but do it anyway. “In a cup.” He demands.

“Ok,” you place the perfectly round pink sphere dotted with red in front of him. “Not sure how you’re going to eat so much ice cream but enjoy.”

“The strawberry’s for you.” He says lowly. “Eddie I’m working, I don’t-” “Not anymore. I think Harrington can handle this place the rest of the night.” He grabs your hand over the counter and starts to pull softly, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. Not that his eyes don’t always look like a puppy dog’s. You look at him like he’s crazy because, well, he is. “I’m not leaving Eddie, I still have two more hours on my shift.”

He sucks his teeth, chuckling to himself as he watches you start to panic. “C’mon y/n, when was the last time you did something bad?” “Not the point. I could lose my job.” “Oh please, Steve’s such a pussy, he won’t tell on you. And he obviously wants to fuck you so I’m sure you could get away with murder. But don’t do that.” He says with an angry edge to his voice. “Murder?” You ask. “No, fucking Steve. You could murder all you want.”

“The ice cream’s melting.” He says. You take a deep breath and grab the cup of strawberry, walking around the counter to his side. “I knew she was a bad girl.” He says as he grabs a fistful of your ass. “Now come on.” He says pulling your wrist. “Wait Eddie we have to pay for these!” You say as he pulls you out of the store. He laughs and takes another lick of his cone as he pulls you toward the mall movie theater.

“So what do we wanna see?” His eyes scan the posters surrounded by tiny lit bulbs. “Oh I know!” He says as you two approach the ticket booth. “Two for Aliens please good sir!” He says to the teen working behind the glass. “$10 Eddie. And no smoking in the theater this time.” He slides you the tickets as Eddie slides him the ten dollar bill.

“So you do pay for things.” You say as you two walk into the darkened hallway of the theaters. His fingers reach for your hand, tickling up your palm and weaving through yours.

“Well I wouldn’t want us to get kicked out of the theater on our first date.” He says with a wink. “And don’t worry, if you get too scared, you can grab onto me as tight as you need to.”

You look away, your cheeks blooming into a blush. You’re planning on it.

.

.

.

more bully!eddie here

masterlist here

🍦🍦🍦

[laiqualaurelote]

Ok but for the file thing, I'm DYING to know more about "The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign" pls <3

thank you for this ask for the WIP game! this is an extremely cracky AU in which the Richmond Players all start manifesting superpowers.

The first thing Isaac chopped in half with his hand was the BELIEVE sign. The second was Zoreaux.

To be fair to Isaac, he had failed to chop Jamie in half. (More on this later.) Thus, while Jamie went off to sulk and Zoreaux ambled up to poke at the broken sign saying, “Maybe we can make a new one?” Isaac thought nothing of clapping him on the back and replying, “Sure thing, bruv.”

His hand went through Zoreaux like a hot knife through butter. Zoreaux didn’t exactly fall apart, but he did sort of peel away in two halves like a melted clock in a Dalí painting. He was screaming the whole time. It was the modern art mash-up nobody wanted to see.

Isaac gaped at him in horror. The other players were yelling. “Bro! What did you do!”

“I didn’t – ” began Isaac. 

Zoreaux was still screaming. Weirdly, there was no blood or anything. The edges of him seemed to have been pinched off, like Play-doh.

“We must put him back together!” shouted Dani. He and Richard were on their knees, trying to jam the two halves of Zoreaux back together, only Zoreaux seemed to be drooping and stretching through their fingers. “Mon dieu,” gasped Richard. “He is like cheese! But not good cheese! Like the cheap mozzarella from Pizza Express!”

“Osti de tabarnak de sacrament!” shrieked Zoreaux. “What the fuck is happening!”

“I got the duct tape!” called Will, rushing in. He tossed the roll to Sam, who began trying to tape Zoreaux back together as the rest of the players rushed in to try and help. 

“Wait, wait.” Something was happening as Sam’s hands brushed against the halves of Zoreaux. They seemed to be melding back together. “Sam!” cried Dani. “It’s you! You are healing him!”

“Wow,” said Sam, staring at his hands as they knit Zoreaux back together. “Wait, I need to make sure he’s aligned properly. Can I get more light?”

Everyone was temporarily blinded as Dani burst into a blazing ball of brilliance.

“...okay,” said Sam after some time, “way more light than I needed, but thank you.”

“De nada, Sam!” 

It was at this point that Trent Crimm walked into the room. He stopped and put on his glasses, as if that would clarify the tableau of the AFC Richmond team duct-taping their cloven goalkeeper together while one of their strikers was blazing like a lighthouse beacon and their captain stood in the corner with his hands apologetically raised in the air. 

“What,” said Trent, “the actual fuck?”

*

Trent’s first thought was that he would have to re-pitch his book as a fantasy novel, because nobody was going to take it seriously as non-fiction any more.

“So you’ve got healing hands,” he repeated to Sam.

“I think so?” Sam stared at his hands. “Or maybe I just have the ability to stick things back together. I don’t know. Perhaps I should test it on another injury?”

Across the locker room, O’Brien cleared his throat. “Sam? Can you touch my butt?”

Trent and the players turned to stare at him. 

“Not for gay reasons,” O’Brien clarified. “For science.”

“Both of those are valid,” said Sam. “I would be happy to touch your butt for you.”

Trying to ignore O’Brien casually dropping trou in the corner, Trent removed his spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dani’s brightness was giving him a migraine. “I’m sorry, bruv,” said Isaac to Zoreaux for the thousandth time.

“It’s okay,” said Zoreaux. They had yet to remove the duct tape, just in case, so he looked like a very poorly-wrapped package. “It didn’t actually hurt. I was just freaking out, bro.”

Babatunde was holding on to Zoreaux’s little finger and walking across the room while Bumbercatch followed him with a measuring tape to see how far the finger could stretch. “Three metres!” yelled Bumbercatch as Richard tried to cross the room to his locker and ended up having to do the limbo under the finger. “Okay, take it around the corner!”

“I just thought,” went on Isaac, “‘cos I touched Jamie, and I didn’t chop him in half…” He trails off.

“What?” said Jamie. And then, as Isaac made a move towards him, “Whoa! Are you fucking mental?”

“Sorry.” Isaac backed off. 

“Could I test a theory?” ventured Trent. “Bearing in mind that I mean this as a purely scientific inquiry.”

“Sure,” said Jamie. “Whatev – oi!” he yelled as Trent stabbed him in the hand with his pen.

The pen snapped in two. Ink splattered over Jamie’s hand, the skin of which remained unbroken. Jamie screwed up his nose. “That’s disgusting, man.”

“I think you’re invulnerable, Jamie,” said Trent.

Jamie considered this. “That mean I can’t be hurt?”

“I believe so, yes. We’ll have to run more tests to be sure.”

“Huh,” said Jamie. “Sick.”

“It worked!” O’Brien yelled from across the room. “It’s a miracle! I’m healed!”

“Okay,” said Trent wearily, “so we’ve got…five superpowers that have manifested so far. Anybody else feel a superpower coming on?”

“I got one,” called out Jan Maas. “I’m always right.”

The locker room erupted in laughter. “Shut the fuck up, Jan Maas,” they chorused.

Jan shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

[jenniferjareauwife]

Hii.. so i have a request... JJ x daughter reader where JJ sees her daughter's girlfriend sneaking out from her window. JJ goes to talk bc her daughter hasn't told her yet that she also likes girls and that she has a girlfriend. Reader also thinks JJ will be angry but she's totally supportive, bc actually JJ tell her that she has kissed girls in college

Caught

pairing: jennifer jareau x daughter reader

category: fluff

warnings: making out, innuendo

word count: 732

age: 17

summary: your mom catches your girlfriend whiles she's sneaking out of your house and she reveals some of her secrets

I smiled against her lips as she kissed me. We were finally able to have some alone time after three weeks. She gently pushed me down onto my bed while tugging on my shirt, pulling away my lips so I could give verbal consent. "It's ok." I whispered. She smiled wider and took my shirt off.

We both froze as we heard the garage door open. My mom was home? She wasn't supposed to be home for another two days. I gently pushed Claire off of me. "Out the window." I whispered.

"You're on the second story-"

"It'll be fine. My mom's gonna kill me if she sees you." She nodded and opened the window and dropped down, I heard her gasp a bit but she didn't yell so I closed my window. I didn't even realize that Claire that had escaped my room with her shirt still in her hands until my mom opened my door and looked me up and down. "Hey."

"Are you just going to pretend like you're not half naked and that I didn't just see a girl climbing out your window carrying your clothes?" I narrowed my eyes.

"What now? That didn't happen." My mom walked over to my dresser and threw me a shirt.

"I'm not mad honey." She tapped her neck. "You've got a little something there." I touched my neck and grabbed my mirror. It was a hickey. I could tell she was trying not to laugh while my face was burning up. "So...you have anything you want to tell me?"

"Me...and women...yes." I struggled to get words out.

"You and women yes?" She snorted.

"I...women. You know?" I was trying to p it my shirt on but it wasn't working. "They're great."

"Yeah. Yeah I know." I was finally able to pull the shirt down over my head and I looked at my mom, my jaw hanging down.

"You know?"

"Yeah. I've had some experience." She sat down on the edge of my bed.

"What?"

"Yeah. In college. Come on, you can't think that I've only had fun with men." I sat down next to her, completely dumbfounded.

"But you- you never said anything."

"Neither did you and I knew."

"But that's not fair. You're a profiler." I pointed out.

"Ok. That's true."

"Well when did you know?"

"College."

"Oh." I took a deep breath and nodded. This would've been good information to know before I acted like a complete idiot in front of her, thinking she would kick me out of the house.

"Yeah. Look, I don't care who you kiss or who you have sex with. As long as you're using protection-"

"I only like women." I clarified. "So...I don't need condoms or birth control or whatever." She nodded.

"Ok but you can still get STD's." I groaned.

"Mom I don't want to talk about this."

"But you're having sex, we need to-"

"How about not now though?" I offered. "This is already awkward, you know?" She chuckled.

"Ok fine. But tomorrow."

"I already had the sex talk at school, so how about never?"

"Mm. I don't think so. I need to pass on my wisdom."

"Your wisdom?"

"Yeah. Like what moves-"

"Oh my God mom I don't need to know your moves in bed!" I laughed, praying she wouldn't continue.

"Well there's one where-" I put my hands over my ears.

"La la la la la I don't want to hear it." I waited until her lips stopped moving before I took my hands away.

"Ok. Fine. I won't tell you."

"Thank God." I let out a sigh of relief and sat back down next to her.

"Oh stop it, it's not that bad."

"Figuring out what my mom does during sex? Oh yeah that's not bad at all." I said sarcastically.

"Ok fine." She laughed and put her arm over my shoulders. "But I do want you to know that there's no judgment here. I will love any girlfriend you have. Unless they're bad to you." I nodded.

"Thanks mom."

"Of course honey. I always have your back." I smiled up at her as she kissed my forehead. "Just ket me know if you want any tips." My face fell.

"No. Never. That's not happening. Do I have to spell it out for you?" She laughed.

"Just jokes. Just jokes. I love you hon."

"I love you too."

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern meet cute with a little help from Lambert's runaway pet.

The ten seconds Lambert spent staring dumbly at the now broken leash in his hand was all the time his black labrador needed to disappear from view. The man cursed before sprinting in the same direction, muttering curses in-between yelling his pets name alongside grumbled apologies to fellow pedestrians too slow to get out of his way - this was the absolute last time he bought cheap pet supplies online!

As luck would have it, Lambert didn't have to go very far before discovering his dumbass dog had made a friend; the man he'd apparently accosted giving pets with one hand whilst the other had a firm grip on the harness in an attempt to both keep the dog in one place and dissuade the attempted jumps at the cat sat on his shoulder.

"Morhen!" Lambert yelled before whistling twice and catching the attention of all three, the dog looking happy, the cat indifferent, the man indignant.

"Sorry, did - did you just call me a moron?" They spat

"Was calling my dog." Lambert clarified, "Says it right there on his collar."

The other man blinked at him, "Oh, I was wondering about the pronunciation. And that must make you-"

"Lambert. Yeah. Also on the collar." He shrugged, as Morhen trotted up to him, leaning against his leg as if he hadn't just made his owner sprint from one end of the park to the other, "I may have affectionately called him Moron a few too many times during the puppy stage and it ended up being the only thing he'd answer to but my brother insisted it was borderline animal cruelty to actually name him that and my dad was adamant he wasn't walking around in public yelling 'Moron!' So...Morhen. And for the record they were leashed but-" he held out the leash so they could see where the clip to attach it to the harness had broken clean off.

The man gave an inelegant snort in response, "Well seeing as we got your names, I'm Aiden and this-" he tilted his torso to give Lambert a better view of the tabby in a yellow harness and leash of its own, "Is Marv. You're welcome to pet him if you like."

Now it was Lambert's turn to snort, "Oh my god, that's such an old man name for a cat!" He moved closer, holding his hand out for inspection.

"Well he is an old man." Aiden cooed, giving Marv a tickle under the chin who butted his head against Aiden's in response before sniffing curiously at Lambert's fingers, "And I didn't name him, he's a rescue. It's a running joke we picked each other because we're a matching set."

Lambert gave them both a quick once over to try and find some clue as to what Aiden meant. It was then he realised the cat now rubbing its head against his palm was missing it's right eye and Aiden in contrast, appeared to have lost the sight in his left if the cloudiness was any indication. The remaining eye of both was also green, although Aiden's was of a darker shade.

Lambert felt like he should says something witty or slightly profound in response. Instead, what left his mouth was "Thought one of the things about cats was that you didn't have to walk them?"

Aiden shrugged, "We like the park. My new building allows pets, but I don't have a balcony or anything and he's partially deaf as well as half blind. Not great odds against city traffic, but he goes slightly stir crazy if he's cooped up inside for too long."

Lambert nodded in understanding as Marv's purrs grew in volume. As much of a pain in the ass Morhen could be, the thought of anything happening to him made Lambert want to pick him up and shelter him under his jacket like he had when they were still small enough to be held in one hand. The dog in question gave a sudden bark.

"Aaaaw, were we ignoring you, gorgeous boy?" Aiden clucked as he leaned down slightly to rub Morhen's head.

"I should get him back home before the entire harness decides to fall apart." Lambert said, hastily passing the leash through the harness loop and tying it in a knot, giving a couple of tugs to check it would hold, "Hopefully you won't experience any more crazy, runaway dogs."

"I don't know. I think I like how the last one turned out." Aiden replied with a smile, "Would it be ok if I call or text you sometime?"

Lambert blinked. He wasn't inexperienced by any means but usually he was the one asking cute guys for their number, not the other way around.

"Uh, sure. Let me just-"

"I already memorised your number off Morhen's tag earlier." Aiden admitted, "Nothing creepy, just incase I ended up having to call whoever to come get their dog."

"Text me and I'll save yours."

"Will do." Aiden gave a wave as Morhen used Lambert's distraction to start pulling him down the path, eager to get moving again, "See you around, Lambert."

When Lambert's phone alerted him later that evening, he was greeted by an unknown number sending him a pic of a tabby dozing in the shade of a tree and a link to a reputable website selling various pet harnesses.

[gffa]

saw someone say "dickbabs is bad cuz they're written as a stereotype of smart nerd/dumb jock which is a disservice to their characters" and its so weird cuz i cant think of any comics where they're written that way?? like the best comics of them are the ones where they're working on cases together combining both of their strengths and resources to solve crime and theres plenty of those.

also i've noticed so many dickbabs antis have a problem with barbara's intelligence in general which is odd to me. esp when dick himself is never intimidated nor threatoned by it and its sad. its like ppl claim to like girlboss/malewife couples but then when there's actually a couple that displays that dynamic in a way that matters and isnt just based on appearance or physical traits its too much and they back out!

I just wish certain Dickbabs antis would stop putting their "why this other pairing is so much better than DickBabs" stuff in the #dickbabs tag, like you are not helping me think better of your competing ship with that kind of behavior, it just comes off as so desperate to be mad that other people like something you wish they wouldn't like. Otherwise, I don't really wander into spaces that aren't into the things I'm into, because I'd much rather spend my time yelling about why I DO love the thing I love, so in that vein, LET ME TELL YOU WHY I LOVE DICKBABS SO MUCH. (To be clear, it's perfectly fine not to like the ship or like it in a different way, we'll still get along fine! It's not the sum total of EITHER character's role in the comics, there's plenty to talk about them without getting into this relationship! I'm just not here for those who need to go out of their way to shove it in my face that they don't like the ship, but disliking it and staying in your lane--as many, many lovely people do! the majority I would even say!--is of course fine.) (To further clarify, I don't know the context of the original post mentioned here, it's not part of anything I'm speaking of, this is purely about trying to shove it in others' faces, not about how other people interpret ships differently from me while staying in their own lanes. So I'm probably not speaking about the original post whatsoever here!) For me, I think the heart of their bigger relationship is built on their mutual support for each other, that they each have established themselves individually and have their own books and their own time in the spotlight, but they keep gravitating towards each other because they're better and stronger and more fun together. That each of them gladly takes their turn being the support for the other, because that's what relationships do! And they do it with such love, like-- I love them because they've known each other so long that they really get each other, they get that the other isn't perfect, and they've made the choice to be with that person even when their issues have thorns. Like, I loved everything about their conversation in Nightwing #96:

That is exactly what he needed to hear--she wasn't being cruel or dismissive of his issues, she wasn't even really being mean about the issues he picked up from Bruce, because she's right, Bruce does have some really shit traits that he passed on to his eldest. She's not saying that either he or Bruce are bad for it, she's just accepting that it's part of the man she loves and she'll cut through it with him because he's worth any effort it would take to be with him. I love that she laughs right in his face about breaking up, because that's not cruel or dismissive either, it's just Dick being ridiculous and sometimes it's part of his charm and they've always teased each other--the thing is, it's also always followed up with warmth and care, she asks him point blank, are you happy with me? Because you are allowed to be happy. I'm allowed to be happy and I'm happy with you, you're worth dying for, let's do this together. Or I love their earlier dynamic in the Batgirl comic as well, just after Bruce and Selina's failed marriage (this is before they got back together, like in the above):

I love SO MUCH that Babs isn't sure that she necessarily wants a marriage any time soon, she doesn't trust yet that it could last, but what she does want is someone who would be there if she needed them, that at this point in time she feels like moments are all any of them are allowed to have, so what she wants is someone who will always answer when she calls. At this point, she's afraid to commit because she doesn't feel like they get that kind of thing, she's afraid of her own feelings, that really gets hammered in during the Death Knight storyline where they're fighting against the end of the world, the collapsing of the multiverse, and Bruce is tired of their bickering, so he tells them to just "skip to the end", which is basically, Dick wants to symbolically marry her, but she's afraid because she doesn't want her feelings for him to get in her way, she's terrified of losing him again:

But he's there for her, he says that it's just for tonight, he can put it aside when they need to, and later he'll win her back. This is who Dick and Babs are to me--they dance around each other because their feelings are so intense and sometimes it feels like they're on different pages (Dick's a romantic who wants to get married someday and knows it, she isn't sure she wants marriage but something less defined), but then you dig into it a bit and realize they are on the same page, it's just that their costumed lives, the traumas they've both lived through, make them scared of that level of intensity. And that's why Babs being the one to say, once they're together, no, we're happy together, we're allowed to be happy together, is so important. It's why she refuses to not come along with when Dick is going to the founding of the Alfred Pennyworth Foundation and doesn't take his shit about trying to keep her safe in Nightwing #88.

Because they take turns supporting each other, they take turns being the one to say I love you so much that I would fight the world for you, that they make each other stronger and shore each other up. Even before they got back together, they supported each other and were always there to listen, to joke around to lighten the mood, to just be a friendly ear without expectations of anything else:

Plus, they are adorable when they're flirting:

DICK'S IDEA OF A HOT DATE IS A NIGHT ON THE SOFA IN SWEATPANTS, EATING POPCORN, AND WATCHING THEIR FAVORITE SHOW. HE UNDERSTANDS HER, OKAY.

Ultimately, I love them because sometimes she goes to him. Sometimes he goes to her. Sometimes she cuts through his bullshit with love. Sometimes he cuts through her bullshit with love. They're always there for each other, even when they're not together. They have a blast flirting with each other. They're both aware of the other being a hot mess sometimes, but they know that's part of the person they love and deal with it. They're partners.

[konigenblobbity]

Request: Out of Line [Miguel]

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, yelling, insults, sad reader, crying, cursing

—> [Hobie’s Version]

Request: [Anon] your angst is so UGHHHHH AMAZING. im literally reading every single thing on your masterlist. i need more hobie hurt/comfort or miguel or anyone actually idc who it is i just love your writingggg. maybe like they’ve had a bad day and reader tries to help but instead they get annoyed and say sum ab then being annoying n never shutting up and reader gets quiet after and stuff. although i’ll literally read anything you put out thank you!!!

A/n: More of a repost because I wanted to separate Hobie’s and Miguel’s so :) might even make a part two for this

Miguel entered your apartment, slamming the door behind him as he did. You could hear his heavy footsteps before you even saw him, he was cursing under his breath planning on going straight to your shared bedroom, ignoring your silent figure sat on the couch.

The sound of his footsteps made their way behind you, walking past the couch and you without another word. It was then that your anger turned to rage. He doesn’t spare a single word to you after not showing up to ANOTHER date. It was the same date you’ve rescheduled 2 times before, seeing as he missed those too.

You turned your head and looked over at him, watching as he walked up the steps. That’s when you stood up off the couch and walked over to the base of the staircase. “Took you long enough…” your voice causes him to stop in his tracks, he turns halfway and looks at you. His face was blank, clearly unbothered and indifferent.

“Oh… hi darling, didn’t see you” his voice was calm and smooth. It wasn’t what he sounded like that threw you off… it’s what he didn’t sound like that did. His voice held no remorse or guilt… how could he not feel guilty!? He then pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs “I’m gonna take a shower and go straight to bed. I’ll see you in a bit” he turned to walk back up the stairs.

With that you can’t help but scoff, crossing your arms before speaking. “That’s all?” He stops again and turns, this time making his body fully face you. “What?” He asks, and you picked up on a hint of irritation in his tone. He placed his hands on hips, and when you didn’t clarify immediately he raises his eyebrows and shrugs obnoxiously.

“Miguel I deserve an explanation before you just ‘go straight to bed’. Where were you?” Your tone was stern and you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his apology. He just looked at you as if you had grown two heads. He then let out a chuckle… looking down and shaking his head.

“Sweetheart… I was on a mission. I always told you not to wait up for me didn’t I? You could’ve just gone to bed without me” he looked at you as if it was obvious. Your eyes went wide and you looked at him absolutely speechless. He brushed you off entirely, assuming you felt bad, and spoke again. “It’s alright… i forgive you” and that’s when you broke out of your daze.

“I’m sorry what?!” Your sudden harsh tone shocked Miguel, his hands visibly lifting off his waist for a moment as his brows furrowed. “You let me wait for you for 3 hours in a restaurant, alone, only for you to FINALLY come home and then say that you forgive me?!” you shake your head in disbelief.

You rub at your forehead while letting out a long breath, hoping it would subdue your rage. Miguel finally processed what you said, his eyes widening in realization. The date… oh crap the date! His hands fall from his waist and one goes to run through his hair. “Shit… it completely slipped my mind. I was caught up in an important mission”

He begins to walk down the stairs, his expression a mix of indifference and exhaustion. When he reaches you at the bottom he gives you a smile that barely read as apologetic. “I should have called or texted bu-“ he leans in to kiss your cheek but you immediately step back, looking at him with an awestruck expression.

“No. Miguel. You should’ve been at the restaurant. It was your idea and you promised you’d be there” when you pull away he placed his hands back on his hips before letting out an annoyed huff. “Look I’ll make it up to you. I just got busy” he wasn’t even looking at you, he hadn’t even apologized yet… you felt your blood continue to boil at how little of a shit he seemed to give.

“You always ‘get busy’. This date was supposed to be you making up for the other two dates that you missed because you ‘got busy’…” he picked up on your irritation and immediately made it worse by shrugging. “You know my line of work. Things come up” it’s then that you scoffed, really sick of how he was brushing you off while you were about to explode.

“Miguel. I get that. But then don’t promise me you’ll show up! I’m sick and tired of you making promises you can’t keep!” As you got louder, not dropping the topic, Miguel became even more frustrated… his patience slipping. You watched as his expression shifted to reflect his irritation.

“Fine. I’ll stop making promises… seeing as they only lead to you yelling at me” he mumbled the last part under his breath but you heard it. You physically step back at those words, that’s when his eyes focus on you again, the lack of remorse in his gaze hurting more than his words.

“Why do you have to be such a prick… what you did hurt me Miguel, don’t you get that?! Not only did you forget, but you bailed… AGAIN and then come home and brush me off like I’m nothing” you weren’t yelling, keeping your voice low and rather accentuating the malice behind every word you spoke.

“Well I guess I have bigger problems than hurting your feelings! You ever think of that huh? I don’t have time to care about whatever the hell you’re going through!” The words spilled out of his mouth before he could filter them. As you process his words, your face shifts to shock, fists clenching tightly, waterline glistening as your eyes well up.

The man you’ve known and loved for years… who you thought you would marry, just told you he doesn’t care about you or your feelings. Not only that… he didn’t even hesitate to say it. You step back further, placing a hand on the wall next to you, as if to brace yourself. His demeanor shifting as he saw your bottom lip begin to quiver.

His eyes, having been heartless and cold seconds ago dropped into a look of guilt. His whole expression fell… his brows furrowing and lips parting as he too realized what he just said. He watched as you placed a hand over your mouth as your tears began to fall, softly beginning to sob into the palm of your hand.

“Shit… sweetheart I didn’t mean that.” He tried to approach you, arms raised so he could hold you. His heart pained as he watched how you continued to step back, slipping away from him. “D-don’t…” your voice was breaking, shaky with your heavy breathing before soft sobs began to rack your body. It’s then that you walk forward, past him as you begin to walk up the stairs.

He tries to reach for your arm but you manage to dodge his hand and rush the rest of the way upstairs. His footsteps can be heard behind you as you hurry your way to your shared bedroom. He continues to try and plead with you as he follows behind “Darling please… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please just let me explain” you ignore him entirely.

Once inside the bedroom you grab a pillow from the bed and hurriedly grab a spare blanket from the closet. You walk to the doorway of the bedroom where Miguel stands. Harshly you shove the pillow and blanket against his chest, causing him to stumble back a little at the strength your anger gave you.

“You can sleep on the couch. You get your wish, you can go straight to bed” somehow you found the strength to look him in the eyes. Yours were glossed over with tears and the only thing he could find in them was agony, his eyes began to well up at the sight of you so upset… especially since he knew it was his fault.

“Sweetheart please… let’s talk about this” he drops the pillow and blanket and reaches an arm forward, softly circling it around your forearm. You forcibly pull it back, wincing as you feel the claws of his suit scratch at your skin. Glancing down you notice the claw mark and how you began bleeding… Miguel noticed too.

“Shit you’re bleeding!” He goes to react immediately, trying to step towards you but you just push him away again, with both hands this time. “No! Stop it!” You yell and he’s frozen in place, eyes glancing between your bleeding arm and burning eyes. Your breathing was heavy, he saw it in how your chest frantically rose and fell.

“But you’re in pain!” He tries to reason but you just scoff. An grin crosses your face, it immediately unnerved him… it was made worse when you chuckled softly. “What do you care… like you said, you’ve got bigger problems” with that you slam the door in his face. He could hear your footsteps retreat into the bathroom.

He stepped up to the door and leaned his forehead against it… he could hear your sobs through the wood. They were frantic and distraught, he heard how your breathing was split as you tried to gasp for air. Your whole body overwhelmed with this feeling of misery and pain. If Miguel wanted to he could open the door and walk in, but he didn’t dare… too afraid of hurting his chances for forgiveness by doing so.

Miguel began to cry silently, when the first tear broke away dozens more followed. Burning a hot trail down his cheeks. He stayed at the door for a while, whispering softly as if you could hear him. “Please… sweetheart I’m sorry” his voice was pleading… begging for you to be the one to open the door.

Even if it was to hit him or cuss him out… He just wanted an opportunity to drop to his knees and apologize, tell you just how sorry he was for hurting you like this. After your sobs fell silent he called out for you. “Darling? Please… I know I messed up” he was met with silence but he knew you were awake… he knew you were curled up in bed hugging your pillow tightly.

“I didn’t mean it… I swear. I should have never said it and I should have been there tonight.” Once again you say nothing, he does however hear the soft rustle of the bedsheets. He let out a long breath and spoke again “We’ll talk about this in the morning… alright? I’m so goddamn sorry sweetheart” his voice was raspy and trembling slightly, his breathing uneven and broken.

“Good night… I love you” that was his last attempt and like all the others… he got no response. Slowly, he leaned away from the door, wiping his tear stained cheeks with the back of his hand.

As he did that, he noticed the slight blood that glistened on the claws of his suit. He grabbed the blanket and hurriedly wiped his claw clean with the edge of it, hating the sight of it on his hands. His stomach turned at the fact that it was your blood… practically a physical symbol of how he hurt you.

He then grabbed the pillow you gave him… his wounded heart warmed slightly at the fact that, no matter how angry you were, you still gave him a pillow and blanket to sleep with. He was about to head down to the couch to sleep but stopped, instead dropping down onto the floor and leaning against the wall of your bedroom.

He took a moment to close his eyes and steady his breathing. He then grabbed the pillow and placed it on the floor, lying down and pulling the blanket over his body. As his head hit the pillow his heart skipped a beat… in your anger you accidentally gave him your pillow. He was so glad that you did.

It smelled like you and Miguel couldn’t help how he immediately embraced it into his arms and nuzzled his face into it. Taking a deep inhale as his body melted at the familiar scent that he loved so dearly.

He slept outside that door the whole night, holding your pillow close to his chest, eyes not closing once as he thought of what he could say or do to make it up to you.