#best dua for love back

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the exceptional @cordiallyfuturedwight and @cosmicdreamgrl thanks ever so much my loves <33

now tagging some heroes @aprylynn @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @btscontentenjoyer @jihopesjoint @monismochi @raplinenthusiasts <333 and everyone else

[buscandoelparaiso]

/////

[islamicspecialistforloveback]

Dua Wazifa to Win Back Someone's Love

Their word Love is not just a mere word by the term but the way through which we disclose our feelings towards others. Love is one of the purest feelings ever that’s directly inherited through the blessing of almighty God and rejuvenates our heart full of happiness and makes it to beat for someone else. When you fall in love with someone, your whole world starts revolving center around the…

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part VI

Teach me how to get my smile back - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HAN feat. BAE

You keep a lot of secrets (and I keep none) - Fireproof, The National

Too much darkness for a rainbow - Gone, Rosé

I always say goodbye - World spins madly on, The Weepies

We can set the world on fire - You are the solution, Loving Caliber

Drop a single tear drop - Tomboy, (G)I-DLE

I still dream of you - Ghost towns, Radical Face

Love is not a competition - Collide, Rachel Platten

Demons are friends, angels are enemies - @ my worst, blackbear

We're such a mess together - Using you, Mars Argo

I've found a love to love like no other can - Nara, alt-J

All for freedom and for pleasure - Everybody wants to rule the world, Tears for Fears

Why you asking? (No, I'm not ok) - Not ok, Loco feat. Minnie

In the fantasy it's so convincing - Dirty thoughts, Chloe Adams

The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight - Can't remember to forget you, Shakira feat. Rihanna

Searching for something that ain't lost - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A little more delicate - Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

Tonight we are victorious - Victorious, Panic! at the Disco

I want you so much, but I hate your guts - Landfill, Daughter

Your idols betray you/Your heroes will fail you/′Cause we are no saints - We are no saints, Blind Channel

Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that? - Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

'Cause sometimes the wrong ones are just what you need - James has changed, Phoebe Ryan

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone - Lovely, Billie Eilish & Khalid

Chasing visions of our futures - Youth, Daughter

Why is love so contradicting? - Contradicting, Hyunjin

I wanna be found by you - Adore, Amy Shark

Somebody might die (but nobody gets hurt) - Honey, Måneskin

The history books forgot about us - Samson, Regina Spektor

I like us better when we're intertwined - Cool, Dua Lipa

Baby don't go away (love me like you loved me) - Miserable (You & Me), HAN

More titles!

[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 &lt;;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

[naturesapphic]

Hihihi I’m a huge fan and supporter of ur writing!!!! I wanted to request a Billie Eilish x Fem where R is besties with Dua Lipa and Dua always flirts with R so Billie gets jealous and sorta just kicks Dua out and doms R in the bedroom like very hard?? AGAIN I LUV UR WRITINGGG!!

Too Much

Billie eilish x fem!reader (romantic), dua lipa x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: jealousy, hurt/comfort, rough sex, squirting, strap-on, oral, restraints

Word count: 1,056

You and you best friend dua lipa, were hanging out in the living room watching movies while Billie was out doing press. The two of you have been friends for years now, way before she had gotten famous. The two of you stuck together after all this time and no matter what had happened y’all wouldn’t leave each others side.

It was a few hours later and Billie walked through the front door to see her girlfriend and her friend cuddling up together. Usually she doesn’t get mad at this because she likes to cuddle with her friends but dua loves to flirt with you. She will get all touchy and handsy while Billie would be standing right there watching but dua didn’t care. Billie knew dua had some type of crush on you, that was obvious but you didn’t see it whenever Billie tried to tell you she did.

Billie cleared her throat to get y’all’s attention and your head snapped to where the noise came from. Your lips grew into a smile at the sight of your girlfriend while dua had a scowl on her face. Billie ignored dua and came over to you, sitting beside you. You instantly got out of duas arms and went into your girlfriend’s lap. “Y/nnnn! Why’d you leave? I was comfortable…” she said sounding genuinely upset to which you didn’t understand, but Billie did.

It has been two hours since she’s been back and she had to deal with the constant flirting and attempts to get with you which made her blood boil. There’s no way you don’t see how she’s acting towards you and think it’s just friends being friendly. Billie was getting tired of it and she needed dua to leave now. “Okay dua I think it’s time for you to go. Me and y/n have plans tonight.” Billie said bluntly and you looked at her confused while dua glared at her.

“Well im sure whatever y’all are doing y/n wants me there right?” Dua said looking over at you and you looked at billie. “Oh so you want to watch me bend her over and fuck her pussy like im a bitch in heat hm?” Billie said unapologetically which made you choke on your air while dua scoffed. “Whatever. I’m out.” She said rolling her eyes and getting up to head to the front door while this time, Billie was the one smirking. Dua left and you were still sitting on the couch, absolutely dumbfounded on what had just happened.

“Billie what the fuck was that!” You exclaimed as Billie turned to you with the same smirk plastered on her face. She walked closer to you, not saying anything until she bent down and threw you over her shoulder. You squealed loudly and gently slapped her ass. “Billie eilish pirate Baird O’Connell! Put me down!” You huffed as Billie carried you up the stairs to y’all’s bedroom where she threw you down in the middle of the bed. That’s when she pounced on you and started to basically devour you.

Her lips connected with your neck, kissing and biting the skin, leaving marks behind. Her lips went to your ear where she whispered how you were hers and you will always be hers. How she whispered them to you made you soaked through your underwear. Billies hands were all over you, tearing off your clothes while also taking hers off at the same time. Moans and names were being shouted in the bedroom as billies takes complete control over you. You were naked as your hands were tied above your head and your legs tied to the end of the bed. Billie had her face buried in your pussy as she eats you likes starved which she is when it comes to your pussy.

Your whole body was shaking as she continued to devour you, her tongue deep into your throbbing walls and her nose bumping against your clit. Soon you were cumming in her mouth but she wasn’t done with you. Far from it. She got up and licked her lips clean from her cum and went into the closet. Billie came back out a few seconds later, securing the strap around her waist. You look at her wide eyed as you see it’s the biggest strap she owns and you knew that you wouldn’t be walking for a while. She gets back on the bed on top of you and grabs the strap on her hand, rubbing it on your clit. Then she pushes into you roughly, making you gasp out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim as billie pounds into you merciless. Billie threw your legs up onto her shoulders, as her hands go on each side of your head, still pounding into you. She found a certain spot that made you roll your eyes back and she continues to find that spot as she does long hard thrusts into you. You were chanting her name and clawing at her back as she keeps fucking you, not stopping for anything. Soon, you were coming undone and you did something for the first time that made Billie go absolutely feral. You squirted all over her strap and on her stomach. Billies eyes went dark as she watched it come out of you and how hot you looked as it happened.

You were panting and trying to catch your breath, thinking that y’all were done but those thoughts disappeared when billie entered back into you, grunting as she pounds into you once more. “Oh you thought I was done with you babygirl? Cute. I’m making sure you know that you are mine and im gonna make sure you understand it.” She says darkly as she keeps fucking you. You are definitely not gonna be able to walk for a while.

A/n: thank you anon for your sweet words and request! I love you hon! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[cameronspecial]

Let Us Cheer You Up, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Y/N is feeling a little down because of her period and the boys can only think of one way to cheer her up.

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Sometimes her period has Y/N feeling a little more emotional than normal. She knows it is a cliche, but why should she feel ashamed by the overrunning of her hormones? The poor frat brothers of Alpha Epsilon Pi don’t exactly know what to do with the new crying Y/N that is always around the house. They truly like having her around. The house is cleaner because Rafe picks up after them so she doesn’t get grossed out. They actually have real food to eat because Y/N doesn’t love eating takeout all the time and Rafe wants to provide her with more nutritious meals. And she always gives the best life advice. So it’s safe to say that they are all upset at the habitually of her teary eyes. Rafe was surprised when the boys came to her with an idea on what may make her feel better and he was quick to jump in on the idea. They spent the afternoon practicing while she was away at class.

Rafe hears Y/N return and she plops down on the couch immediately to watch TV. She turns it on to see it is playing the dog commercial that always brings her to tears. He finds her with globs of water pooling at the corner of her eyes and takes her into his hold. “Come on, let us cheer you up, Angel,” he whispers into her ear. She lets him lead her into the sitting room across from the living room to find the boys all standing with their backs to her. “Dance the Night Away” by Dua Lipa starts playing and Rafe is quick to join them in the lineup. As the music plays on, the boys start dancing the dance from Barbie. Y/N’s sobs can’t help but turn into giggles at the recreation in front of her.

Rafe is obviously trying to lead the group through the group, except it is very clear that none of them has any dancing skills or the ability to keep a beat. Topper is ahead of everyone else. Kelce is always looking at everyone else to try to figure out what he is supposed to be doing. And Dylan is just doing the cha-cha slide. Nonetheless, she loves that they are doing this to make her feel better and she feels an immense love for them. Sure, some of the rumours about these boys are true, but this shows that they can care about a female and try to change for her. She believes that they can all become a gentleman in the future and this is proof. The music comes to an end and she claps with glassy eyes, which Rafe notices. He frowns, thinking their plan didn’t work and rushes to her side. “Oh, no. We just made you cry more, Angel. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, pulling her into a hug. She shakes her head against his chest., “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m happy. This is so amazing guys. Thank you. I love you all.” The boys all shout back their love for her and squeeze her into a group hug. This leaves Rafe to tighten his hold against her to protect her from the chaos of his brothers. His mouth finds the shell of her ear, “But you love me the most, right?” She giggles and looks up at him. “Yes, I love you the most.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover

[eloves-writes]

🔮with Charles, I just have a vision that maybe I can telepathically send to you! THANK YOU<3

really testing my telepathy skills today, i hope the vision has been adequately received🤞🏻 i feel like this prompt is very versatile, but this felt like biblically accurate charles leclerc to me

song lyric prompt: “tell me all the ways you need me” houdini ~ dua lipa🔮

warnings: sex, oral sex (m+f receiving), swearing, love confessions, needy charles tbh

minors dni

——————————————————

having your best friend charles leclerc on his knees in front of you wasn’t on your bingo card for this year, yet here you were in that very situation in his monaco apartment.

you’d been in love with him since you met him, of course, and he’d felt exactly the same way, but you’d been playing pretend for a good few years now, telling everybody who asked that you were close friends and nothing more; the stolen glances, lingering hands, and flying rumours were a way of life for you. it took a historic home race win to finally give charles the courage to admit his true feelings for you in a way you would never have imagined; charles had kissed you, in front of everybody. the high emotions had overcome him and he couldn’t stop himself from crashing his lips against yours as soon as he saw you after the race. he had walked off without saying another word and headed to the podium celebration, both of your heads rushing with emotion.

when he saw you again, he gave no explanation, only asking you to come back to his apartment, which was how you had gotten to where you were now.

“i love you,” he said simply in his monegasque accent. “i’ve loved you since i met you. and i need to show you how much.”

you were sat on the edge of his bed, your heart was skipping every other beat. “what?”

charles dropped to his knees between your parted legs. “i need you. i need to feel you, i need to taste you. i’ve dreamt about this every night, y/n, please. i’m an idiot for not telling you sooner. let me make you feel good, baby, i need it so badly.”

“yes,” you breathed, confused but happily letting him place quick, soft kisses up your thigh as he looked up at you with those big, puppy dog eyes. he removed your underwear, gently pulling your hips forward so your cunt met his mouth. laying back on his silk sheets, you moaned faintly as he ate you out and you tried to gather your thoughts that were becoming more and more lost in pleasure. this was all you’d wanted.

when you finished, charles moved you further up the bed and got on top of you, removing his own clothes to show his perfectly toned physique. “god, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “need to be inside of you, feel how tight you are around me.”

he fucked you good, making up for the years of mutual pining. he was careful with you but not gentle, asking to fuck you different positions that he needed you in and waiting for your consent before manhandling you, easily throwing you around and holding you up against him. he made you finish twice more, the third time with you on top of him, charles holding your hips still as he thrust into you from below.

“too much, charles,” you panted, exhausted from the activity and overstimulated from his rough pace. he brushed your sweaty hair out of your flushed face.

“ok, baby, then i need your mouth,” he replied, lifting you off of him and watching in awe as you shifted down the bed so your face was level with his dick, already wet from being inside you. you took him in your mouth and he grabbed your hair, only tugging lightly as he held it into a makeshift ponytail whilst you bobbed your head up and down, using your hand to cover what your mouth couldn’t reach.

“so good, my love. so good,” he moaned. “i’m gonna cum.”

you kept going until you felt him release into your mouth, swallowing his load.

he kissed your head as you cuddled up to him afterwards. “i love you, y/n. i really do.”

“i love you too. glad we’re finally admitting it.”

he chuckled softly and kissed your head again. “me too, baby. there’s so many things i need to do with you, i’ve had a lot of time to plan.”

[lensinski]

'Look, I love you, and you are my best friend. You don't have to say it back. I know your best friend is Dua Lipa now.'

[...]

'Thank you, Andy. I love you. You are my best friend.'

[senditcolton]

...but you're going to

You're not saying your in love with me... I'm not saying, "do it anyway"...

summary: when a freshly heartbroken Cassandra Moore proposes going on a tropical vacation to an equally disappointed Leon Draisaitl, all she expects out of the trip is healing and some quality time with her best friend. but she quickly learns that the universe love to throw punches when you least expect them. song inspo: BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish and Cool by Dua Lipa word count: 10.7k warnings: fighting and some sexual innuendo written for @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange to @thewintersoldierdisaster with love ⛱️💛

When the oak door swings open, bringing Cassandra Moore face-to-face with star hockey player Leon Draisaitl, she can’t stop the smile that appears on her face. Even though her upturned lips are twinged with sadness – a sadness that is mirrored on Leon’s face.

“I brought consolation ice cream,” she says, holding up her canvas tote bag.

Leon doesn’t say anything, just leaves the door open for Cassandra to follow him into his house like she’s done a hundred times before.

“Why do our breakdowns always happen at the same time?” he questions.

“Maybe it’s the universe telling us that we’re meant for each other,” Cassandra jokes, waltzing into Leon’s kitchen and hopping up onto one of the bar stools lined against the counter. Her hands fish out the pint of ice cream while Leon reaches into one of the kitchen drawers before extending a spoon to her.

“I am sorry about the finals,” she says, her voice genuine. “Win or lose, we’re all really proud of you here in Edmonton.”

“Thanks Cassie. I would say sorry about your break-up but… I mean, I did tell you. He was an asshole.”

Cassandra just rolls her eyes, taking a heaping scoop of ice cream from the carton, shoveling it into her mouth before replying.

“You’ve said that about every guy I’ve dated,” she retorts. “Not sure if you’re the most impartial person here.”

“And yet, here you are in my kitchen, wallowing in pity and desserts… again,” Leon teases her back. “I’d say my judgement is pretty spot on.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie waves him off, taking another bite before shrugging. “He was kind of a dick though.”

The soft snorting chuckle falls from Leon’s lips, the sound making a smile appear on Cassandra’s face. Her best friend looks up, his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive look as he appraises her – blonde hair pulled up in a bun and her classic loungewear of a tank and sweatpants hanging on her frame.

“What caused it this time?” he asks, the words gentle – a tone that Cassie appreciates. This was one of the many reasons why she liked being friends with Leon; he expertly toed the line between distracting her and letting her talk out her emotions. She just sighs, taking another spoonful of ice cream before responding.

“Didn’t feel like I was being appreciated. Thought I gave a lot of time and effort but never really got much in return.”

“You deserve better.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cassandra laughs, her eyes darting back up towards her best friend. “I could say the same about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

Leon’s eyes lift to connect with hers and Cassandra can feel a small pang in her chest at the sight of the pain that she saw lingering deep in his irises. She just keeps him underneath her gentle gaze before he sighs, his own spoon diving into the ice cream carton.

“I really thought it was our year,” he mumbles, his own eyes downcast.

Cassie doesn’t reply – she wouldn’t really know what to say anyway. She just allows the silence to linger over them for a moment, letting the only noise being the hum of Leon’s air conditioning. She takes in the two of them, leaning against the cool marble island and drowning their sorrows with sugar.

“We’ve got to be the saddest sacks in all of Alberta, right now,” Cassie says, finally breaking the silence with a sarcastic laugh. Leon returns her words with a grin and a raising of his spoon.

“Cheers to us,” he replies, that dry humor that she had come to love ringing out around the kitchen. She laughs, raising her own spoon in a salute before they both take another bite.

The comfortable silence falls, enveloping them both. Cassandra twirls her spoon between her fingers, her mind wandering, eyes dancing over the cabinets before landing on Leon again. She takes in his appearance; his disheveled hair, the far-away look in his eyes. Her gaze flits across his body, counting the bruises that still litter his skin before returning to his face.

The weight of her stare must have been heavy enough for Leon to notice, his blue eyes lifting to meet hers.

“What?”

The question falls from his lips, simple and easy to answer or wave off. Yet Cassie finds the words stuck in her throat. There was a purpose to her visit – beyond the consolation treats and easy friendship. She just wasn’t sure how to bring up the insane request that she had stowed in the back of her mind.

“Hello? Earth to Cass.”

Leon’s voice pulls her out of her head, that gentle smirk playing on his lips. A smirk that she matches.

“I was just thinking… do you know what we need?” she asks, deciding in that split second to dive headfirst into the wild proposal that she was about to make.

“What’s that?”

“A vacation.”

“That’d be nice,” Leon laughs, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice as his hand moves to take another spoonful of ice cream. “Did you have anything in mind?”

It is clear to Cassandra that he is ready to make a joke of this, laughing at the wild – but obviously fictional – adventures that would fall from her lips: skydiving, bungee jumping, parasailing. Each suggestion more ridiculous than the last. That’s how it usually went. That’s how this conversation was supposed to go. But when Leon looks up and sees the pink tinge smattered across her cheekbones, his smile drops.

“Cassie…” he says, elongating her name as a cautious warning.

“Okay, just hear me out.”

“I don’t even know what you’re about to say.”

“That’s why you need to hear me out,” she retorts and Leon know that he has no rebuttal and lets her continue. “So, like a month ago, Tristan and I signed up for this cool trip to the Bahamas. Like, all expenses paid tropical excursion with a guided boat tour that includes snorkeling and swimming with the pigs.”

“Pigs?”

“Yeah, wild pigs that you can swim with. Anyway, the tickets we bought included a plus-one, something we didn’t realize until we had already purchased them. And we didn’t feel like going through the hassle of trying to get a refund so we thought that we would invite Stella and Dylan, sort of a double date. But now… I mean, you know what happened. And long story short, I have a ticket to the Bahamas and I can bring someone along with me so I was wondering if you would like to come.”

Cassandra’s ranting finally ends, the long-winded explanation reaching its conclusion, the silence falling once again. She keeps her eyes locked onto Leon, trying to read every miniscule expression that crosses his face and prepare for whatever reaction may come.

“So, let me get this straight,” Leon begins, finally speaking. “You’re asking me to go on a tropical vacation with you? One that you were planning on going on with your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Cassie retorts. She sees the exasperated look appear on Leon’s face and she knows exactly the thoughts that accompany that expression: that’s not the issue here. Cassandra just sighs, her chin falling into her open palm.

“Listen, I know it sounds crazy but I just… I just want something good to come out of those months I wasted with Tristan. Like, turning this trip that used to be for someone else into something for me. And, I just think it’d be nice to have a friend along for the ride.”

Cassandra lets Leon digest her words – both the proposal and her reasoning behind the invite. She simply looks on: watching as his gaze turns from her to stare into space, seeing his shoulders lift in a sigh, before his eyes turn back to her, a small grin playing at his lips.

“Sure, why not?”

“Wait. Really?”

“Cass, I’m accepting. Why are you questioning it?” Leon laughs, taking another bite of ice cream.

“Because it’s an insane idea and there’s no real reason for you to say yes to it?”

“And yet, here I am, saying yes,” he retorts. “You’re my best friend and I want to make you happy.”

The genuine tone that accompanies his words makes Cassie’s heart soften, a smile appearing on her face. A sigh whooshes through her, her entire posture relaxing into the kitchen chair.

“You really are great, you know that?” she says, grinning towards her best friend.

“I know,” Leon replies, his own body leaning back against the marble countertop. “Besides, I’d be stupid to pass up a free tropical vacation.”

His teasing words makes Cassie’s face twist into a playfully annoyed look, part of her tempted to throw a spoonful of ice cream at him to knock him down a peg. But that would be a shame. Not just because of the wasted ice cream but because that – that not so subtle cocky Leon – was her best friend coming back to being himself.

She wasn’t about to let him fade again.

~*~*~*~

If there was one thing that was true about any vacation it was this: the vacation itself was relaxing but the getting there was always stressful. Cassandra was not a fan of airports or planes or flying or anything of the sort. That was why she never moved from Edmonton, why her summers were spent at home or at her parent’s lake house – only a three-hour drive.

But throughout the trip from her home to her best friend’s house to the Edmonton airport to the Orlando airport to the Nassau airport to the hotel, she became even more thankful that she had Leon by her side. As a passenger of many flights, he kept her grounded even when they were thousands of feet in the air. He kept track of their bags – Cassie’s paranoia forcing him to check the airline tracker to make sure they were, in fact, on the plane with them – and guided her through the unfamiliar airport to their connecting flight. He even helped calm her down during the brief turbulence they experienced.

It wasn’t until they landed safely in the Bahamas and their taxi arrived at the hotel – with all their bags in tow – did Cassie truly relax, collapsing onto the hotel’s soft white sheets as soon as the door opened.

“Cassie.”

Leon’s voice cuts through the evening silence, a little sharper than Cassandra was used to but she immediately chalks his tone up to fatigue and stress from their busy travel day. She doesn’t even bother to respond, only uttering a small hum that was partially muffled by the sheets.

“Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

“Like what?” she mumbles, finally turning around from her starfish position to stare at Leon, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like the fact that there is only one bed in this suite.”

It takes a minute for his words to sink in but when they finally register in Cassie’s brain, the shock of them feels like a splash of ice-cold water hitting her. Her body jolts upright, her blonde hair whipping around to see that he was indeed correct – the only bed to be found in their hotel room was the one that Cassie was currently sitting on.

“Oh, shit,” she mumbles, turning her sheepish gaze back to Leon. “Must’ve slipped my mind?”

Leon doesn’t give a verbal reply, just a sigh, punctuated by his arms crossing in front of him. An action that immediately makes Cassandra slip into the defensive.

“Well, I mean it makes sense,” she explains. “The voucher includes a plus one and it was advertised as a ‘romantic getaway’ so the assumption is that if you were buying a ticket, you were most likely sleeping together anyway.”

Her words bring a wry chuckle from Leon, one eyebrow raising in amusement. It takes a minute for Cassie to realize the connotation of her words, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment.

“I mean, sharing a bed,” Cassie says, the low lamplight doing nothing to hide the blush that floods her cheeks. Not that she ever saw Leon in that light… obviously.

“Well then, I guess for this trip we’re sleeping together,” Leon teases, although his quiet assertion – no matter how joking – making the flush on Cassie’s face deepen to an even redder scarlet. Her best friend just laughs, plopping down next to her on the mattress.

“You know you’re really cute when you blush.”

“Shut up Leon,” she mutters, jostling him with her shoulder, trying to diffuse the weird but most likely imagined tension between them.

“No, I mean it,” he continues to joke. “Maybe I’ll hide your sunscreen so your cheeks can stay pink.”

“If you hide my sunscreen, I will murder you.”

“On our romantic getaway? Not very loving of you.”

“Leon, I swear if you don’t stop talking, I will accidentally kick you on purpose the entire night,” Cassandra chirps, the harshness of her words diffused by the giggle that seeps through.

“Then I will loudly snore throughout the night so neither of us get any sleep,” he quips right back at her. His light-hearted teasing lessens the surprise of sharing a bed with her best friend, something that Cassie appreciates as she laughs, lifting herself off the mattress.

“So, we’re just planning on ruining this vacation for each other?” she jokes, rummaging through her suitcase for her pajamas and toiletries.

“Looks like it.”

“Then why did I even invite you?”

Leon’s only reply is a shrug as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his legs up onto the bed, his body leaning back against the headboard, his arms resting behind his head. Cassandra gives one last laugh before disappearing into the bathroom to go through her nighttime routine, silently grateful for how comfortable he is with the whole situation, glad he didn’t make a fuss over their newfound sleeping arrangements.

By the time she gets back, Leon is already in his loungewear, relaxing beneath the sheets with his phone in his hand. Cassie tries to remain as casual as he seems to be as she climbs into the other side of the bed, getting comfortable before reaching over and turning off the bedside lamp. Leon soon follows her actions, placing his phone down and clicking the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

“Night Cassie.”

“Goodnight,” she replies, nestling herself deeper into the covers. She is about to close her eyes and drift off when a thought dawns on her. Cassie turns towards Leon, her voice calling out.

“Hey, Leon.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually snore, do you?”

The first sound that hits her eardrums is Leon’s soft chuckle, her heart softening at the noise before his mischievous reply comes.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

~*~*~*~

The tropical sunlight filters through the windows, hitting Cassandra’s eyes and forcing them to open. However, they quickly shut again because of the blinding light, her body nestling into the sheets to try and block out the sun. Only when she could tell from behind her eyelids that she was in a shaded spot did her eyes flutter open. And she came face to face with a sleeping Leon.

The heart that she thought was still in the process of healing did a strange little skip in her chest at the sight of her best friend – how his brown hair looked even brighter in the morning light, how the crease that seemed to have a permanent place between his eyebrows had disappeared, and how peaceful he looked.

It was refreshing to see him so at ease, something she only saw in fleeting moments – moments that got even rarer when hockey season started up. Maybe it was a good thing that she invited him. Perhaps this trip could be as restorative for him as it was for her.

The sharp blare of a phone alarm rings out, breaking through the silence and causing Leon to stir, a soft moan leaving him. Cassie’s eyes snap shut immediately, although her brain chides her at the ridiculousness of her actions. It was Leon – he may have relentlessly teased her if he woke up with her eyes glued to him but he wasn’t going to make it weird. But still, Cassandra keeps her eyes closed until the alarm was quieted and Leon’s warm palm was gently pressing against her shoulder.

“Cass, wake up,” he says, his voice raspy from hours of disuse. She makes a show of groaning and turning before she lets herself ‘awake’, her body lifting in a stretch.

“What time is it?”

“9 am. So, it still feels like 7am our time.”

“Ugh, why are we up so early?”

“I have no clue, Cassie. You’re the one that set the alarm,” Leon laughs, tossing the blanket off of his body and inadvertently – or perhaps entirely on purpose – throwing it over Cassie’s head. She lets out a playful huff as she uncovers herself, her blonde hair sticking up in an even worse bedhead than before. Leon just smiles at her from his crouched position on the floor, his hands unzipping his suitcase.

“Oh!” she says, the realization dawning on her, infecting her voice with joy, and giving her a zip of energy to jump out of bed and run towards her own suitcase. “The boat tour is today!”

“The day after we arrive?”

“That was the original plan,” Cassie explains, grabbing her swimsuit and clothes. “Tristan and I thought it would be better to do the most agenda heavy event first then we could spend the next five days relaxing and doing whatever.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Leon sighs, the morning weariness still evident in his body.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” Cassie cheers, almost oblivious to Leon’s exhaustion, her own excitement moving through her like a shot of espresso as she flies into the bathroom. The click of the deadbolt covers Leon’s amused chuckle, her energy giving him a much-needed boost as well.

After shimmying into her bikini, throwing her loose white sundress over top, and clipping her hair up with her blue flower claw-clip, she walks out of the bathroom, finding Leon dressed and lounging in one of the armchairs.

“Ready to go?” she asks, throwing a few items into her round rattan purse before she slips on her sandals, fully turning to Leon. He lifts himself up, placing his phone into his back pocket.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Cassie just shoots him a bright smile, leading him out of the hotel room. The two of them depart, Cassandra’s preparation giving them enough time to walk down to the Margaritaville restaurant for their pickup instead of having to hail a cab. There isn’t a large number of sights to take in, most of Paradise Island taken up by the sprawling resort, but it is nice to relax. To take a moment and fully awaken before their planned adventures. They soon spy the restaurant with a small crowd of people standing outside, and they eventually make their way up, taking their place among the group.

“Hey, I’m going to see if the restaurant has any coffee. Do you want one?” Leon asks.

“That’d be great, thank you. Cream and sugar please,” she replies. Leon shoots her a wink, an action that Cassie responds to with a small smack on his bicep before he disappears through the doors, leaving Cassandra alone among the crowd. She makes polite small talk with the people around her, staring out towards the crystal blue of the ocean, a sigh escaping her chest.

This was going to be a great week – she was determined to make it so.

The light screech of a car’s breaks startles Cassie out of her reverie, her eyes turning towards the noise before landing on the taxi cab that just arrived. She watches as beautiful brunette steps out, looking like the epitome of an Instagram model, the sunglasses perched on her nose only highlighting the sharpness of her jaw and lift of her cheekbones. Cassie just watches in awe, wondering who this person was when she spies the brunette’s companion step out from the other side.

And the sight makes her heart drop.

No. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was her trip, her idea, something he only expressed a fleeting interest in. Which is why she never in a million years expected him to show up after things ended between them.

But there was Tristan, walking around the cab and taking the arm of the stunning brunette in his.

“Here you go.”

The gentle press of someone’s knuckles against her bicep startles Cassie, her body jumping and spinning, her eyes now connecting to a very confused Leon.

“What? What is it?” he asks, immediately clocking the distraught emotions so clearly painted on her face. Cassie watches as his eyes flick around, looking for the source of his best friend’s distress. It isn’t until his gaze lands on Tristan, clearly recognizing him from the few nights he tagged along with Cass to post-game celebrations, does his expression harden, a quiet curse falling from his lips.

“He’s not supposed to be here,” she says, voicing her racing thoughts, the anxiety in her words forcing Leon’s eyes to return to her. “I – I didn’t think he’d come. And who the fuck is that girl? What the hell is happening?”

The words are coming faster than Cassandra can control them, her breathing becoming staccato, any previous joy zapped from her. It is the gentle touch of fingers against her own, her eyes jumping down to see Leon’s hand wrapping around hers, that grounds her.

“Hey,” Leon says gently, “look at me.” The quiet demand immediately makes her obey, her blue eyes meeting his steely grey ones. “Breathe.” Cassandra copies the rise of his chest, her breath slowing as he keeps his gaze locked to her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How? This trip was supposed to be a way to get over my ex-boyfriend. Hard to do that when he’s less than three feet away.”

“I know. But are you going to let him ruin more of your life than he already has?”

The quiet determination in his voice makes her pause, her head tilting slightly. He was right, like he usually was. Tristan had already ruined six months of her year; she wasn’t about to let him ruin another six days.

“You’re right,” she sighs, her hand dropping from Leon’s. She shakes her body, trying to release any lingering anxiety from her muscles before picking up one of the disposable coffee cups Leon had set on a nearby bench. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he laughs, mirroring her movements. “Now calm down and drink your coffee.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” she quips back at him with a giggle. However, she can’t stop her eyes from wandering back towards where Tristan stood and silently curses when her gaze locks with his. His face is unreadable, his own eyes bouncing between her and Leon.

Perhaps it was petty, impulsive even, but Cassandra didn’t give herself enough time to talk herself out of it. Instead, she just let herself reach out to grasp Leon’s hand in hers again.

It is obvious that Tristan notices the action and she can see his nose subtly upturn at the sight. His reaction makes a small thrill run through her before her eyes tear from her ex to her current companion, looking down at her with a question in his eyes. All Cassandra does is mutter a small thank you before leaning her head against Leon’s shoulder. She doesn’t catch the small smile that tugs at her best friend’s lips, can’t hear his quickened heartbeat, but she does feel the small kiss that he presses into the crown of her head, his only reply a muffled ‘of course’.

It only takes a few minutes longer – minutes that Cassie spends trying not to focus on Tristain and his…  travel companion – before the boat turns up, a few other guests already onboard. Leon is a complete gentleman, hopping on the boat first before extending a hand to Cassandra to help her climb aboard. The two of them settle down on one of the bench seats as the boat takes off, gliding over the pristine waters towards the first stop on the itinerary; an itinerary that Cassie doesn’t realize Leon didn’t know until his elbow is nudging hers.

“So, what’s all included in this excursion? Besides the pigs, of course.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her own lapse. “First, we’re going to Atoll Island where we can snorkel for a good amount of time. Then we’ll pass through Green Cay – we aren’t getting in the water there but you can apparently see a whole bunch of marine life from the boat. And finally, Rose Island. That’s where the piggies are. Plus, there’ll be a bunch other things to do like beach games, drinks, etcetera. And then it’s just back to the resort.”

“Sounds good,” Leon replies, leaning back in the seat.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you all of this. I should’ve since it’s technically your vacation now too.”

“Cass, I’m just here to support you. You can drag me along wherever and I’ll be happy.”

“You seem very chill about all of this,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her best friend’s laissez affair attitude. “What happened to the super serious intense hockey player that I know?”

“He thankfully disappears when faced with a tropical vacation.”

“Shame. I really liked him,” Cassie muses, taking a sip out of her water bottle, watching Leon from the corner of her eye. She sees his eyebrows raise, a bemused smirk appearing on his face. “But,” she continues with a playful sigh, “I suppose I could come to like this version of Leon Draisaitl.”

“You’re one of the only people who gets to see him,” Leon says, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of a genuine confession – a seriousness that Cassandra notices. She doesn’t hesitate to reach for his hand again, intertwining her fingers in his.

The boat continues its path across the ocean, bouncing gently over the soft waves before it slows to a stop about 300 feet off the coast of Atoll Island; or at least that’s what Cassie was told. After giving a brief run-down of snorkeling safety and the wildlife they might see, their guide hands out gear to each of the guests, telling them to enjoy their time in the ocean. Cassie excitedly hops up, spinning to direct her beaming smile towards Leon who grins back at her.

“Ready?” she asks him.

“As I’ll ever be,” comes his easy reply.

Leon lifts himself off the bench seat, kicking off his flip-flops. He removes his baseball cap to easily pull his t-shirt over his head, leaving him in his board shorts. And although Leon is just her friend and she has seen him shirtless before, it’s difficult to not let her eyes rove over his newly exposed chest and the cut of his muscles. It feels warranted though: Leon was a professional athlete – of course his body was fantastic. Plus, it was easy to forget how well-built he was when his body was often hidden underneath layers of hockey gear. So, Cassie doesn’t fight it and just lets her eyes rake over Leon.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he chirps, the quip startling her out of her ogling. The blush rises to her cheeks when she sees the knowing look in Leon’s eyes, his gaze teasing before it bounces down to her long white sundress, one brow raised in a playful challenge.

Cassie doesn’t bother giving a verbal reply – granted she doesn’t think she could without embarrassing herself further. Instead, she just rolls her eyes as she removes her purse from her shoulder, setting it down on the chair. She kicks off her sandals, pushing them underneath the seat before her hands reach up to the bows resting on her shoulders.

She doesn’t mean to make the action hold any more weight than it should, intending for it to just be a playful moment with her best friend. But when her eyes meet Leon’s as her fingers unravel the ties on her dress, the fabric falling from her frame and exposing her bikini-clad body, she can’t help but notice the skip of her heart as she watches Leon’s gaze rake down her silhouette.

“Is,” Leon says, his voice faltering slightly. He clears his throat before resuming his question. “Is that new?”

“The swimsuit? Yeah, I bought it special for the trip,” Cassie replies, forcing her voice to remain casual to shrug off the tension that had once again risen between them.

“For the trip? So, for… you know who?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Cassandra sighs, her eyes rolling before they turn to survey the deck and land on Tristan. He isn’t looking in her direction, too caught up in putting his snorkeling gear on. Cassie’s eyes return to Leon, a devious smirk on her lips. “But now, it’s for me.”

“His loss,” Leon says, the words falling from his lips with a speed that somewhat startles Cassie. “You look great.”

His words bring the blush back to Cassie’s cheeks in full force, her head ducking down with a newfound bashfulness.

“Thanks,” she mutters, reaching for her goggles, taking them in her hand before returning her eyes to Leon’s. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Leon just laughs before placing his own goggle over his eyes. Cassandra follows his actions and takes his hand as they both walk towards the swim platform. One last adjustment of their gear and a grin are shared before they both jump into the aquamarine water.

It is easy for Cassandra to let all troubling thoughts disappear as she swims through the ocean, her eyes taking in the fish fliting around the coral reefs, pointing out starfish and sea urchins to Leon, the smile on her face clear even around the snorkel pressed against her mouth. Occasionally, Leon drifts away from her – to explore the ocean on his own, Cassie assumes. However, that assumption is proved partially incorrect when she turns her face towards him to point out the sea turtle swimming by and sees him aiming his phone in her direction, snapping a picture. The smile appears on her face again as she playfully throwing up a pair of peace signs and posing for him.

They spend almost all their allotted time in the sea, taking in the sights before they are called back onto the boat. Leon once again helps pull her aboard and even wraps the complimentary towel around her frame before grabbing one of his own. The two of them return to their seats, handing back the snorkeling gear to their guide.

“Thank you for taking pictures,” Cassandra says as she rings out her hair. “Out of everything I planned, I somehow forgot to include a waterproof phone case.”

“I figured you’d want some proof of this whole trip – something to look back on.”

“You’re right.”

“Like always,” Leon tacks on to her statement, making her laugh at his cocky confidence.

“Well, I don’t know if I would say that,” she teases, knocking her shoulder against his. “Will you send those pics to me?”

“I will. But maybe later. Let’s just enjoy the rest of today.”

Cassie nods in agreement, looking back over the horizon. Eventually, the guide announces their arrival in Green Cay, telling the guests to be on the lookout for some wildlife including sharks and sea turtles. Cassie and Leon stare into the blue waters, each of them pointing out the creatures that they did see swim by, arms pressed against each other on the railing. The boat cruises through the bay and in the distance, Cassandra can see an island growing larger as they approach. Her excitement raises higher, knowing that they were almost to Rose Island and to the swimming pigs – the part of the entire trip that she was most excited for.

The boat finally docks on the shore, the guests filing off and walking across the white sand beach. Cassie’s hands wrap around Leon’s bicep, her whole body bouncing when she sees the animals walking in the tide. Leon just smiles down at her, her own joy infectious. Their tour guide once again gives a quick explanation before handing each of them food for the pigs and leaving them to enjoy their time.

“Here, Cass,” Leon says, handing her is portion of food.

“You don’t want to come?” she asks, her blue eyes wide as she looks up to him.

“I’ll hang around but… I’m just not sure about the whole thing.”

Cassie can see the hesitation on his face, understanding the uncertainty. She doesn’t push him, instead letting him stand on the shoreline as she wades out into the water.

She stops when the water reaches her mid-thighs, turning to face the beach, her eyes connecting with Leon still standing on the sand. Cassie sends him a quick wave, one which he returns before her eyes drop down to see the pink, brown, and black mottled bodies of the pigs swimming out towards her. The smile on her face grows impossibly wider as she holds out her hand, letting the snout of the first pig that arrives nuzzle against the skin, munching on the food she offered. The animals swim around her, their snorts and squeals filling the air, making her laugh.

The food quickly vanishes from her hand, only a small amount remaining as her eyes lift to lock with Leon’s frame again. He is chatting with another guest but he must feel the weight of her stare because his gaze returns to hers. She smiles at him before her hand extends, beckoning him towards her. Cassie can see him hesitate again but there must be something in her smile or her ease that makes him push through any lingering fear as he wades out to meet her.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, even once he reaches her. She just grabs his hand, gently pouring the remaining pig feed into his palm. She keeps his wrist in her grip, guiding his hand down towards the water. With her silent instruction, he holds his hand out towards the closest pig, letting the animal take the food from him. A small laugh falls from Leon as the pig eats from his hand, Cassie reaching out to pet the animal, the damp coarse hair gliding under her palm. Leon matches her movements, petting the pig himself as his face turns towards her, a smile on his lips.

“There’s a place where you can hold a piglet as well, if you want to,” she explains to him, the joyful lilt of her voice clear.

“Well then,” Leon replies, his tone mirroring hers. “What are we waiting for?”

They both eagerly wade back to the beach, occasionally stopping to pet some of the other pigs that swam by, before exiting the water and making their way towards the piglets. Cassandra’s heart immediately softens when she sees the tiny creature, before her heart soars as the animals is placed in her arms. She coos, the immediate baby-talk falling from her mouth as she holds the piglet, her fingers brushing over its softer skin. Cassie lifts her head up towards Leon only to see him lower his phone, surely taking another photo. There is no faking the smile on her face as Leon snaps the pic, his own grin obvious from behind the phone screen.

There is now no hesitance from Leon when Cassandra gently offers the piglet to him, his hands eagerly reaching out to take the animal from her. If Cassie thought her heart was soaring when the piglet was in her arms, it was doing somersaults when she saw the baby in Leon’s hands, looking even tinier against his body. It takes a few minutes for Cassie to snap out of her reverie before walking to him with a smile on her face. She reaches out towards Leon’s board shorts, her fingers touching the material causing Leon to startle.

“Your phone. For pictures. You deserve some too, you know?” she explains, a soft laugh on her lips as she glances towards the piglet softly snorting in his arms. “Besides, you have your hands full.”

Leon chuckles in resignation, knowing that there is no argument against her logic. Instead, he just turns his hip closer to her, allowing Cassie to slip her hand into his pocket to fish out his phone. She clicks the small camera icon before stepping back and snapping a few pictures.

They return the piglet to its home before they walk back towards the beach bar where most of the other guests linger. After sanitizing their hands and grabbing a few drinks, they find a vacant pair of lounge chairs and sit down. Leon takes out his phone and opens his camera roll, Cassie leaning over as Leon swipes through the pictures, every one almost perfectly framed despite being almost entirely candid.

“You know, you would be a really good Instagram boyfriend one day,” she teases as he continues to scroll through the album.

“How’d you guess my retirement plan?” he laughs, a grin shot in her direction. She giggles with him before taking a sip of her cocktail, resting back against the lounge chair, her eyes looking out over the ocean.

“Hey, Leon? You coming?”

Cassie turns to the sound of the voice addressing her best friend to see the guest that Leon was talking to earlier standing nearby, a volleyball under his arm.

“Be right there,” Leon replies, the man walking away before Leon turns to Cassandra. “He invited me to be a part of their team in beach volleyball,” he explains with a shrug.

“Should’ve known that the athlete couldn’t be taken out of you entirely,” she chirps before playfully shooing him away with a wave of her hand. He shoots her a small departing smile as he gets up and jogs over towards the court. Cassie returns to her relaxed position, letting the sun warm her skin as she breathes in the salt air.

“Is this seat taken?” a feminine voice asks.

Cassandra opens her eyes and it takes everything in her power not to startle when she sees the brunette – the one that was accompanying Tristan – standing in front of her. Thankfully, her shock isn’t noticed by the girl, allowing Cassie to compose herself before gesturing to the vacant chair next to her.

“It’s all yours. Leon is currently playing volleyball so he won’t be using it anytime soon,” she explains, her light-hearted tease causing the brunette to laugh as well as she sits down.

“Boys. Always finding a way to show-off, right?” the woman teases. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Cassandra.”

Cassie’s eyes stay glued onto Chloe’s face, waiting for a reaction to the name, waiting for an acknowledgement of who she is and who she used to be to Tristan. But there is none, just a compliment on her ‘cool’ name as Chloe lounges back on the chair. Cassie lets herself relax, even though Chloe’s reaction – or lack thereof – leaves her mind reeling. It is a moment of silence before Cassie speaks again.

“I think I saw you arrive outside of the restaurant before we left. Quite an entrance.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe laughs, turning her body towards Cassandra. “I will let you know that it was 100% not part of the plan. Nor what I usually like to do. But my boyfriend, Tristan, completely spaced on what was on today’s agenda so when we did figure it out, we had to speed to the restaurant or we would’ve missed this whole excursion.”

“Jeez,” Cassie says. “Good thing you made it.”

“Good thing I asked Tristan,” Chloe teases. “I swear. This man surprised me with these tickets to celebrate our six-month anniversary but it honestly seems like he has no idea what he himself planned out.”

If they were anywhere else and if Chloe had been one of Cassandra’s close friends, she knows they would share a laugh over the idiocy of her ex-boyfriend, lamenting over his disorganization and ineptitude. But now, the only words that caught Cassie’s attention were ‘six-month anniversary.’

Tristan and her broke up a month ago. The latest that he could’ve ‘surprised’ Chloe with the tickets was at least a week before today. But no matter what the minute details were, the math all pointed towards one thing: Tristan had been cheating on her. For months.

“Well, men are hopeless,” Cassie replies, trying not to let the anger bubbling within her seep into her words.

“Tell me about it,” Chloe laughs. “But you look like you managed to snag a pretty good one. I saw him standing on the beach, taking pictures of you with the pigs. How long have the two of you been dating?”

“Me and Leon?” Cassie asks, both Chloe’s praise and assumption about their relationship catching her off-guard. Chloe simply nods, her brown eyes bright and eager. Her excitement makes that petty part of Cassie trill again and even though she knows that she shouldn’t, she decides not to correct Chloe. “We’ve known each other for years now. One of my friends was – well, still is – dating one of his friends. That’s how we met. And the rest, like they say, is history.”

“Oh, that’s so cute. I just met Tristan through a dating app. Very romantic, I know.”

“Hey, whatever works right?” Cassie replies, every additional information Chloe innocently shares acting like a dagger piercing her deeper.

It was a blessing in disguise when Cassandra sees Leon jogging up towards her, thankful for the interruption before her façade cracked. Chloe follows her eyeline, noticing Leon as well and she excuses herself, walking back towards the beach bar. Leon glances in the direction of Chloe’s departure before turning back to Cassie with a questioning look on his face.

“Tristan’s?”

“Her name is Chloe,” Cassie chides. “She actually seems pretty nice. But Tristan is a bigger piece of shit than I ever could’ve imagined,” she continues on, her words growing angrier with every passing syllable. She notices Leon’s eyes widening at her fury and sits down in the chair next to her, his body leaning towards her, a silent invitation for her to continue.

“He met her on a dating app… while he was still with me. This trip was a surprise for Chloe to celebrate their six-month anniversary.”

The silence falls between them, Leon doing the math as easily as she did only moments ago and Cassie sees that scowl appear on his face. She doesn’t say anything else, not even sure if there was anything left to say, instead letting a sigh woosh out of her as she collapses back onto the lounge chair, turning her attention back to the waves.

“Do you want me to kick his ass for you?”

Cassandra’s head whips towards him, her look of resignation transforming to one of shock at her best friend’s words. Leon’s face remains impassive, his words still hanging between them.

“What?”

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Leon asks, pausing to let a small grin appear on his face before he continues. “In beach volleyball, I mean. I think his team is playing against mine next.”

There is no stopping the cackle of laughter that falls from Cassandra at Leon’s statement, her head shaking at her friend’s joke. Leon’s own grin widens, happy to hear her laugh again. Cassie looks back at him, her blue eyes soft.

“Would you?”

“Anything for you,” he replies, lifting himself off his chair before holding out his hand. “Want to come cheer me on?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cassandra says, grabbing Leon’s hand and letting him pull her towards the court.

It’s hard not to notice Tristan’s eyes locked on her and Leon as they arrive, but Cassie finds that she doesn’t care. He didn’t have the right to be angry; this was her trip and now, she was absolutely not about to let her cheating scumbag of an ex ruin it. She wishes Leon a quick good luck before she finds a vacant chair. She ends up sitting next to a group of other guests and attempts to engage in small talk. However, it’s almost impossible to keep her focus when Leon is playing.

Once again, her brain chides her at being so awe-struck by her best friend. Cassandra knew he was attractive – hell, she couldn’t recall a night she went out with the team where he hadn’t been hit on. But now, for some reason, the revelation was hitting Cassie like a ton of bricks. Leon Draisaitl was hot: the way the golden sun bounced off his skin, the sharp lines of his muscles, how his body moved with the precise athleticism that he had perfected through years of training, the sound of his laughter floating in the ocean breeze.

The sound of cheering and applause snaps Cassie back to the present moment, her eyes refocusing on Leon and the three guys he was playing with coming together in a group celebration. And Cassie realizes that Leon did exactly what he promised he would: he beat the crap out of her ex at beach volleyball.

She cheers with the rest of the guests, watching as Leon’s team moves to shake hands with the others. It is good-hearted until Leon meets Tristan in the center. Cassie watches as Tristan looks towards her and then back to Leon before rebuffing Leon’s outstretched hand, sportsmanship apparently meaning little to him. Leon just shrugs, looking towards her with an incredulous look on his face, an expression that screams ‘can you believe that?’ before he jogs back over to Cassie.

Her next actions are entirely impulsive as she practically leaps onto him, engulfing him in a potentially overzealous hug. But if Leon was surprised, he doesn’t show it, wrapping his arms around her and even spinning her a few times, their laughter combining before setting her back down onto the white sand.

“You won!” she cheers.

“I told you I would.”

The rest of the afternoon is filled with more downed cocktails, more games played, and more conversations had before their guide is calling them back to the boat. Cassie and Leon find their seats, sitting down as they begin their journey back to their resort. The sun is low in the sky, painting the clouds in a beautiful array of oranges and pinks. Cassie leans against Leon, staring out towards the horizon, a contented sigh running through her. It’s instinctive how Leon wraps his arms around her, pulling her tighter against his chest, holding her close.

“Thank you,” Cassie says, her voice gentle. She looks back towards him, a blissful smile on her face. “For everything. Coming with me, being so chill about everything, making me laugh. Everything.”

“Of course,” he replies, glancing down at her with a matching smile on his lips. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The statement should’ve been an innocuous one. After all, it had been shared between them many times before this, a way of affirming their friendship and loyalty to each other. But Cassie is surprised to notice how much it stings, the pain momentarily passing through her before she shakes it off.

It was ridiculous reaction. Besides, that’s what she and Leon were: friends.

Nothing more.

~*~*~*~

If anyone were to ask Cassandra to describe her vacation in one word, the adjective she would’ve chosen might have surprised some people. They most likely would’ve expected a word like exciting or fantastic or even something as simple as fun. But instead of any of those, she would’ve said it was… confusing.

In some ways, her word choice might’ve seemed reasonable. A tropical getaway to physically and emotionally get away from your ex-boyfriend only to have that same ex show up and learn that he mistreated you even more than you had previously imagined? That would send anyone’s emotions into a tizzy. But Tristan wasn’t the person that had been taking up residence in Cassie’s mind, turning everything that she thought she knew upside down.

No, that distinction belonged to Leon.

Leon, her best friend. Leon, who willingly agreed to join her on this trip. Leon, who tagged along with her no matter what she wanted to do: explore the island, go on shopping trips, lounge on the beach, anything. Leon, who made her laughter come with an ease that Cassie thought would take months to get back. Leon.

The man who was currently leaning against the wooden beachfront bar a few feet away from her, casually chatting to the bartender, the half-drunk bottle of Corona still in his hand. He looked so at ease, with his partially unbuttoned white shirt, khaki shorts, and slides – the very epitome of someone who spent their life just chilling by the sand. How different he was here with her than he was back in Canada. How relaxed he seemed. Part of her wished this trip would never end, that they could stay here next to the sea and in the salt air.

But that couldn’t happen. Tomorrow was their last day and then they would be back on plane and back to their normal lives. It might be for the best. Maybe the feelings that had taken root in Cassie would die once they landed back in Canada, away from the fantasy of summer.

Although that very thought causes a pang of sadness to thrum through her.

She just sighs, directing her attention back to her phone, scrolling through the endless pictures Leon had taken for her, trying to pick her favorites and make them into a collage that accurately captured the perfect – albeit, fleeting – joy of this vacation.

She hears the chair across from her shift through the sand, a body settling down into the seat and she expects another quip about her ridiculous choice of cocktails to fall from Leon’s lips. But instead of her best friend’s voice, she hears a different voice; one that she had known for six months and one that she had been trying to erase from her mind.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Cassandra’s head jolts up, her eyes landing on Tristan’s frame now sitting across from her.  

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he continues, his arms crossing over his chest as he stares her down. Cassie’s shocked expression quickly morphs to one of anger, a scoff falling from her lips.

“Didn’t think I would come to the vacation that I planned just because you wouldn’t be with me? So sorry to disappoint,” she quips, her eyes rolling at her ex’s audacity. Her words don’t make him depart, something she was hoping he would do when he realized she wasn’t heartbroken over him. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes staying glued to her. “What do you want Tristan?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you bothering me?” she asks, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be lying to another girl you met on a dating app?”

“Jealous?” Tristan quips, that infuriating fuckboy smirk appearing on his lips.

“Of you being someone else’s problem? Not in the slightest. I do feel sorry for Chloe though; she seems really sweet. Shame that she has no idea she’s dating a cheating asshole.”

“Oh, please, like you’re one to talk,” Tristan spits, his tone morphing from cocky to contempt. “You’re no better than I am.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. Chloe told me everything. You and Leon.”

It takes a minute for his words – so full of hate and vitriol – to fully register with Cassie. He actually believed that she had been cheating on him?

“You’re an idiot,” Cassie scoffs. The statement, however true, was not the strongest rebuttal against Tristan’s assumption. But that was because she quickly realized any truthful defense she would make would seem like an outright lie. She all but told Chloe that her and Leon had been together for years. However, she didn’t expect that white lie to come back to bite her this dramatically.

“Sure,” Tristan jeers. “You think I never noticed how obsessed the two of you were with each other? And you’ve only been more all over each other the past few days. Probably because you don’t need to lie to me anymore. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. I always thought you were fucking him behind my back. Turns out I was right.”

“No, you’re just a bigger dumbass than I thought you were.”

“Oh, will stop being such a stuck-up bitch Cassandra,” Tristan snaps, his hand coming down to smack against the wooden table, his voice raising. “You act like you’re so much better than everyone but in reality, you’re just a two-faced slut.”

“You are fucking insane, Tristan,” Cassie says, the tension between them rendering her somewhat speechless, capable of only repeating insults. Unfortunately, her lack of denial just seems to make Tristan feel justified enough to continue.

“Not just a slut, a puck bunny even. Can’t imagine what Leon will do the minute he realizes that you’re just using him for his fame and money. He’d probably drop you faster than I did and move on to the next blonde he finds. Trust me Cassie, there are plenty of girls out there looking to take your place. You’re nothing special, just another bitch looking for her five-seconds of fame.”

The moments that follow seem to happen in slow motion.

A hand appears on Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan turns to look at whoever it was touching him. Then, a closed fist making contact with the side of Tristan’s jaw. The force of the hit knocks Tristan flat out of the seat, his body crashing into the sand below. It is only then that Cassandra registers that the fist belonged to Leon, who was now standing over Tristan, looking every level of pissed off.

“What the fuck dude!!?” Tristan yells, jumping to his feet, his hand rubbing against his jaw.

“Don’t you dare talk about Cassie like that,” Leon says, the tone of his voice colder than Edmonton winters.

“Or what?” Tristan spits, stepping forward into Leon’s space, his own hands curling into fists.

The absolute disbelief at the entire situation forces Cassandra to stay frozen in her seat, unable to move or even fully comprehend what this evening had devolved into. In another move that only further highlighted her ex’s stupidity, Tristan’s own fist comes up to connect with Leon’s face. That action seemed to be the catalyst that caused both of their simmering angers to boil over. Fists start flying, hands twisting into shirts, wild haymakers being thrown, some connecting with skin, some only hitting air. Cassie’s eyes try to track the damage, the only odd thought coming to her brain being a small relief that they were outside and far away from the main resort.

Somehow – or not surprisingly, considering his career – Leon manages to throw Tristan down, the impact of her ex’s body sending up a spray of sand. Tristan scrambles up from the ground, taking a few steps back.

“You’re fucking insane! Both of you!!” he yells, before retreating back to the resort.

It is only after Tristan’s angry cursing fades does Cassie look around, the curious eyes of some of the other guest directed towards them. Leon is still standing on the beach, his shoulders tight and his breathing heavy. Cassandra finally peels herself from her seat, walking over to her best friend and placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“Leon,” she whispers. Her gentle voice pulls Leon’s gaze towards her and she feels a sharp pang when she sees the small cut on his brow. Her eyes travel down to the torn skin over his knuckles, his hands still clenched. “Let’s – let’s go back to the hotel room. Get you cleaned up.”

“What about your drink?” Leon asks breathlessly.

Cassie’s eyebrows furrow before her head turns to see another Corona bottle and her brightly colored cocktail with one too many umbrellas sitting at a different table nearby. The remembrance of why Leon wasn’t at the table earlier hits her as she realizes he must have placed the drinks down before… all this happened.

“Leon,” she says, her voice coming out in a slight breathless laugh. “The last thing I’m worried about is our drinks.”

It must’ve been something in her tone, in her laughter that makes Leon visibly relax. He allows Cassie to take his hand – avoiding contact with his wounds – and guide him through the resort. By pure luck or pure coincidence, they are not stopped as they walk into the building, through the lobby, into the elevator, and down the hallway. They make it all the way back to the hotel room, Cassie pushing Leon into the bathroom and making him sit on the closed toilet lid.

They both seem to be in a fugue state, Leon just staring into space while Cassandra absentmindedly rummages through the cabinets under the sink, grabbing her miniature first aid kit. She opens it and grabs a small antiseptic wipe. It isn’t until she steps between Leon’s thighs do his grey eyes finally connect to her.

There aren’t any words spoken between them; Cassie just takes his hand and gently wipes away the sand and blood from his knuckles, gently shushing him when he winces.

“You know,” Cassie muses, finally breaking the silence that was lingering between them, “when I agreed to have you beat up my ex, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

A slight chuckle falls from Leon, followed shortly by another wince as she brushes the wipe over his wounds. Without moving from the space between his legs, Cassie tosses the cloth into the nearby trashcan before grabbing some bandages from the kit and gently wrapping them around his knuckles.

“I didn’t like how he was talking about you,” Leon explains, his eyes turning away from her, staring into space again as if he was replaying Tristan’s insults in his mind.

“He’s an asshole. You tried to warn me. Guess you were even more right than I ever thought.”

“I’m not going to tell you I told you so,” Leon teases, redirecting his gaze towards her.

“You better not, considering I’m the one patching you up,” Cassie playfully threatens.

After bandaging both hands, she lowers them onto his thighs before grabbing another antiseptic wipe, turning her focus onto the cut above his eyebrow. Her hand finds its place underneath his chin – a gentle hold to keep him from flinching away. It works well enough, although Leon still grimaces in response to her ministrations.

“I can now see why you don’t normally fight on the ice,” she quips, wiping the dried blood from his skin.

“Usually someone else does it so I never really have to.”

“So, if Darnell Nurse were here, he’d be the one beating up Tristan, not you?”

“No,” Leon says, his voice quieting. “It’d still be me.”

“Oh really,” Cassie teases. “And why is that?”

Another hiss falls from his lips, his hands jumping up to land on the back of her own thighs. The touch is soft and it sends a jolt of warmth through Cassandra. Her eyes dart down a few centimeters from the cut on his eyebrow to Leon’s own grey eyes, staring up at her. And her breath catches in her throat at the sight.

Because Leon is looking at her with the utmost tenderness, a look that she has only ever seen in movies or in her wildest dreams. But even her dreams never prepared her for the possibility of her best friend looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

“I’d always fight for you Cassie.”

The statement falls from Leon’s lips is filled with a quiet conviction; the sentence weighted with more confession than those six words conveyed by themselves. Maybe it was fear or uncertainty or simple disbelief that makes the one question escape from Cassandra.

“Why?”

The immediate response from Leon is just a smile – that damnable smile that always made Cassie smile back. A smile that she always thought was affectionate but only ever platonic. But now, it was as if a curtain had been lifted and she could see him clearly. It had been disappearing slowly, a little more every day during this trip, bringing Leon into a new light, a glow as warm and the tropical sunshine. But now, the realization of how much he meant to her and how much she meant to him was as crystal clear as the coastal oceans.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, his voice still soft.

There is nothing that Cassandra can say, no words in any language that she could string together to fully explain the weight of this revelation. There is only this feeling of truth, of clarity. It was Leon – it had always been Leon.

She can feel his hands on her bare skin, still feel the soft cut of his jawline in her palm, still see the look of pure… love on his face. And in that moment, there is nothing she wants to do more than kiss him. It feels as if she spent another second without Leon Draisaitl’s lips on hers, she might die.

So, she doesn’t wait any longer; she simply leans in and presses her lips against his. She can feel Leon’s fingers jolt against her skin, in shock or surprise, but it is only momentary before they tighten around her thighs, pulling her closer to him as he kisses her back. The energy that surges between them isn’t fireworks or electricity or any of the other cliches that Cassie read about in romance books. It feels simple, easy, inevitable. As easy as breathing, as simple as coming home, as inevitable as the sunrise.

Eventually, their lips fall from each other. They do not separate entirely, foreheads still touching as their eyes meet again, breathing slightly heavy as they take in everything that had changed in just a few short minutes.

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” Leon whispers.

“You should’ve done it sooner,” Cassie laughs. “Then this entire trip could’ve been avoided.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” he replies. “This was one of the best vacations I’ve had in a long time.”

“Swimming with pigs, beating up my ex, kissing your best friend. It is pretty memorable.”

Leon chuckles, his shoulders moving underneath Cassie’s hands before he lifts his head up to kiss her again. Her arms easily wrap around his shoulders as she leans into him further, his hands drifting up her thighs, sneaking under the hem of her sundress, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Do you want to make it more memorable?” he asks, his voice dipping lower, intoxicating her. Cassie only replies with a small hum; a quiet encouragement for him to go on.

“Do you remember what you said when we first got here?” Leon continues, his lips falling from hers to trail across her jawline. “Something about how the people that bought these tickets were probably sleeping together?”

A laugh rumbles from Cassie’s chest, slightly breathless from the gentle touch of Leon’s lips against her neck.

“I think I recall saying something like that.”

“Well then, what do you say we make use of that single bed?” Leon proposes, his head moving away from her body to look back in her blue eyes, the mischievous sparkle behind his own irises oh so familiar.

“Considering that we might be kicked out tomorrow since you fist-fought another guest? Probably should make the most of our last night sharing a bed.”

“Trust me,” Leon says as he stands up, keeping Cassie’s body pressed to his as he guides her out of the bathroom and into the main hotel room. “This definitely won’t be the last time I have you in bed with me.”

“Is that a promise, Leon Draisaitl?”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about high tension between a male yautja and human. Where one gets drunk and finally yells that they want to fuck them already.

Tensions Run High

Pairing: Icheall-Dua (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2555

Summary: It was at a gathering for Yautjas and humans alike on a different planet than Yautja Prime. You had been constantly trying to hit up Icheall-Dua and he couldn’t get the idea! So, one night, during a feast of celebration that Icheall-Dua was going to become leader of the clan, you get drunk. A very bad thing. You have loose lips. When you tried again with Icheall-Dua and he doesn’t get it again, you straight up yell it in front of the clan.  

Author Note: I realized this has taken me two months to get to. Sorry that production has slowed down. I've been grinding away at my game. Also, I didn't know if you wanted spicy or not, so I decided to leave it out just encase. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Sonorous voices that boomed across the clearing filled the air. Joyous in nature. Prideful for the years to come. Every rise and fall of the suns to bring a life and challenges to the clan. You held up a cup of a drink that was considered alcohol. Between a Yautja and human mixture of potent alcohol, deluded for yourself.

It reminded you of whiskey with the slight burn with each sip you took. A drink not meant for shots. Rather just to take sips here and there. It’ll still knock you on your ass three drinks later. So, you took your time to consume the interesting taste of the smokey concoction.

Despite living among the predators of the universe and showing we are equals rather than enemies, the two species have come together. Some clans as you’ve heard are more reluctant, or rather downright say no, to allowing humans into their ranks.

Others, like the one you live in, are more accepting if you pull your own. You will not be babied. If you die, you die. A kill or be killed world on this planet. This isn’t even Yautja Prime. Yet, its dangers rival Yautja Prime.

You breathed in the marshes stagnant air. Though the division is still evident; Yautjas with Yautjas and humans with humans, you couldn’t help but find yourself drawn to Icheall-Dua. Marsh green and cream bellied. His scales are basic compared to those you’ve seen throughout your time through a few clans.

What Icheall-Dua lacks in different physical aspects, he makes up in his skills. From the words whispered amongst the clan, he’s a prodigy. He’s the next best thing. A male anyone would kill to be but could never get to his level. Yet, no matter how many times you try to send the right signals in Icheall-Dua’s direction, he doesn’t see it! The skulls, the meat, the Yautja way of courting!

Weeks of research were put into this before you attempted the first time. It should’ve been clear as a peacock spreading its tail feathers. No though. He accepted the gifts but never said anything after that.

At first, you drew back to ensure what you read was correct. Skulls of creatures are the first step. You did just that. Yeah, it wasn’t the dangerous creature on this planet but it nearly killed you! His obliviousness didn’t deter you though. You took a slow sip of your drink again, eyes sliding over to the beast that filled your thoughts.

A large cup filled with a similar concoction to your own was cupped in one of his large hands. Two of three fingers missing on that hand. You knew there was harrowing story to explain what happened. A story you would love to listen to with his deep, grating voice. The sound crunchy like stepping on a gravel road. Another sip downed the rest of the liquid.

With a sigh, you stepped around the larger species that filled the space to the bar tender. A night like this was to be celebrated with alcohol always being included.

After living around these guys for a quarter of your life time, you have learned it’s best to slip between them. Some will shift their weight allow you easier access around them. Yet, many have the mindset not to move for anything. You’ve learned to be slippery rather than it becoming a dick measuring contest. Not submission but avoiding unnecessary fighting. Why get wounded if it all could be avoided? Somethings in this culture you’ll never come to understand.

Once you reached the bar tender again, you set your empty glass on the counter and tapped twice. Ci’tha grunted and immediately got to work. Your drink was set in front of you with a tangy tasting fruit on the rim. You thanked the yellow based Yautja with a dip of your head then leaned against the count with your back to it. People watching.

Other humans were amongst the crowd, mingling with mainly other humans. Only a select few were chatting away with the friendlier Yautjas in the clan. None of them dared to go close to Icheall-Dua nor his father who had a permanent scowl etched into his worn features. A life lived through the ways of a Yautja of hunting and gaining scars along the way.

Icheall-Dua went to sip at his cup only to find it empty and shook his cup. You instantly noticed and spun around to face Ci’tha. “Do you remember what Icheall-Dua is having?” you rushed out and jerked your head over towards Icheall-Dua direction. The poor yellow Yautja jolted at the sudden move then glared at you. You sheepishly smiled an apology at him.

Ci’tha rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Why?” he grunted and raised a brow at you.

“Can you make it? Yautja sized?” you sweetly asked the lanky Yautja who stood in your way of impressing Icheall-Dua some more. Though, the two of you didn’t talk on the regular, he could see what was happening. He rolled his blue eyes again before got to work.

The large mug was set before you. You threw a thanks towards Ci’tha before snatching it racing through the sea of bodies. At points, you nearly shoved your way through but reframed from starting a fight. All you had was a mug and a small knife not long enough to hit anything important on a Yautja.

After breeching the main crowd of people, you were able to make your way up to Icheall-Dua standing in all of his glory. His father only a couple of steps away from him, speaking to another Yautja. Icheall-Dua, himself, was crowd watching until you stopped before him.

“Hello… I saw your cup was empty and retrieved one for you,” you spoke up and presented the cup to him. His sky blue eyes looked down upon over the jut of his small snout. Icheall-Dua blinked slowly in boredom, gaze glancing to the cup in your hand.

He reached out and took it. A critical eye peered and inspected the contents. You gnawed on your bottom lip, in hopes he would accept the drink but nothing else was working. Maybe a drink would win him over.

The Yautja raised his shoulders in a shrug and gulped from the cup. You silently cheered to yourself, praying this was him finally noticing your advances towards him.

Next to him, Zutouh, his father, leaned over and scoffed at you. It didn’t deter you though. Through his one good eye, he analyzed you. Not all Yautjas still accept humans into their ranks. The older generations such as Zutouh are part of that. You’re used to it at this point, even dealing with clans who would kill you on sight.

“Great party,” you tried to start small talk in hopes to get Icheall-Dua to open up a little more. “What’s it for?” A closed mouth smile was directed towards Icheall-Dua.

Icheall-Dua kept his nonchalant expression plastered to his face. “I’m becoming the clan leader,” he stated as if it was an everyday thing. You tensed up mid sip of your drink, eyes darting over to his marsh green hide.

Well yeah. Zutouh is his father and the clan leader. Yet, each Yautja usually has a bunch of children. You didn’t know Icheall-Dua was next in line to ascend the throne. By Paya’s grace, you truly didn’t stand a chance against any of the females who would flock to him. Clan leader got you lots of perks. A title Icheall-Dua had to have earned out of all of his siblings.

“That’s amazing! Are you excited?” you kept up with the small talk, using questions to get answers from him. You gulped down a mouthful of your drink again as it started to affect your mind and rational thinking. “Of course, a male such as yourself with that physique definitely deserves that position.”

Drunk words were sober thoughts.

Alcohol gave you loose lips.

Zutouh snorted and shook his massive head in disbelief. You didn’t care though. What you said was true. Icheall-Dua was built well, the prodigy everyone saw him as.

One of his upper manibles quirked up for less than a second yet you caught it. “This is my destiny.” His answer short, barely even sweet. You nearly deflated at that but an idea came to him.

“Well, does your destiny have me included in it?” you flirted with him again like all the times before. You hoped he would finally get the big picture you were waving in front of him.

This caught Icheall-Dua off guard. The Yautja nearly choked on his drink you graciously provided for him and snapped his gaze to you. Hope flickered in your eyes as you noticed you had more of his attention on you. His hand tightened on his cup, claws slightly scraping across the glass wear.

Except, it all faded away when he pulled back that nonchalant expression and shrugged again. You could almost scream at him for that. Your nose flared with a snort, lips pressed tightly into a line. The alcohol in your system not helping one bit. A near glare was settled on the stupid marsh colored Yautja who you’ve pinned for the last few months.

Like a volcano, there’s only so much you could hold in.

“For the love of everything unholy, I want to fuck you!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, fire blazing in your veins while you stared this male down. “I’ve been trying for months the Yautja way to get your attention. And-and nothing! You hadn’t acknowledge my attempts or even told me to stop! I don’t know what I can do anymore.”

It all came out. Ranitng out your horrible experience trying to court a Yautja their way. All this research was false, wrong. It led you on for months and left you to feel this angry… in front of a crowd.

Your shoulders heaved with each lungful breath. The crowd around you had gone silence due to your shouting. The realization struck you, dosing you in freezing cold water. Your shoulders tensed up, eyes wide, glued to the spot. Nothing could make you move until Icheall-Dua took a step towards you.

Then, you spun on your tail and darted between humans and Yautja alike, a stumbling, drunk mess. They didn’t part for you, even when you ran into them but when a shadow gave chase, they instantly let him through. Your arm was snatched in a vice grip that would bruise tomorrow. Heat slammed into your chest, forcing you to pressed to his torso. Tears pooled the lips of your eyes as you looked everywhere but him. You couldn’t see the rage of you interrupting his celebration, of you ruining the night with this silly crush.

Your entire jaw was swallowed up by a hand and forcefully tilted your head back. Through blurry tears, you find his blue eyes on you.

“Say that again,” he demanded with a voice he used to lead. You tried to struggle against him, nearly turning your head enough to bite his fingers. Nothing worked to get him off of you. Icheall-Dua easily far stronger in close quarters… yet, you didn’t want to hurt him anyhow.

“Why? So you can embarrass me in front of everyone. Show everyone how much of a fool I was? To think I had a chance with you?” you snarled then paused for a pregnant moment. He squeezed his hand tighter on your jaw in a short warning. Icheall-Dua wasn’t one to be around humans often, he didn’t understand their fragileness. “Should’ve brushed me off the first time I gifted you a skull.”

None of this would be happening if he had.

“And why would I do that? I was following the advice given to me by your fellow humans for your courting rituals.” If he didn’t have such a tight grip, you would’ve jerked your head back. Instead, you raised your brows instead.

He was following dating advice… What had they told him? Also, dating?! Your heart started to thump loudly in your ears, like war drums. He had gone out of his way to ask for advice.

A lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “What, what was the advice?” you questioned and untensed your muscles. The Yautja responded by easing up his grasp on your jaw and wrist. Icheall-Dua didn’t let you go fully though. Not that you could outrun a Yautja in the first place.

His gaze deviated over to a group of humans who were staring the two of you down. Everyone part of the party was. “Samual said to ‘play hard to get’. It get’s people needy.” Oh, you were going to kill Samual when you had the chance. All these months of torture because that dumbass told him horrible advice.

You couldn’t help the breath of relief that escaped your lungs. Then, you began to laugh and shook in his hold. “That’s the worst advice anyone could give you. No, ‘playing hard to get’ is the worst way to show someone you’re into them.” Your laughter died down. “And I thought my research was a fraud when you didn’t react to any of the gifts I gave you.”

Icheall-Dua growled lowly in his chest and spread his mandibles in a display towards the humans. The group jolted and instantly scrambled away to be hidden away in the crowd. With them gone, he returned his attention back on you. “You did well and everything right. I apologize I wasn’t properly conveying my feelings towards you. Will you forgive me?”

All that tension in your shoulders you’ve been holding for months finally fell off. “Yes, yes. I forgive you and whatever stupid advice Samual gave you. I would say to do research but… that has also bad information as well.” His hand on your wrist released you to cup your waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on your arms. A tingle running down your spine.

“And what were you saying early? If my memory serves correct: you want to fuck me?” Oh god, he just had to bring that up! Heat instantly rushed your cheeks.

“That’s-that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m drunk. Had some drinks… I don’t know what you mean,” you did everything in your power to get him off of that.

“Daring little thing,” he mused and ran his thumb claw across your lips. Just a little more pressure and he could slice the feeble skin apart. “Taking more than they can chew.” You knew you had chosen right. He was still going to fuck with you though.

He leaned down so only the next words were spoken directly at you. “Once this party ends, would you like to start the night back in my tent?” he whispered. Your brain blanked. Not a single thought entered your mind for a long, unknown amount of time.

When some of the fog cleared, you rapidly nodded your head, eager. “My naughty little ooman.” He returned to his full towering height and offered his hand to you. “Come along, I know of seat you wouldn’t want to leave.”

Curses filled your head, the only thing to make sense in your fray of mental words to yourself. The things you could do to him.

[islamicspecialistforloveback]

Read Here Best Dua for Lost Love Back

Love is a beautiful feeling that no one actually can define. If you love someone by your heart you know it feels when you are in love. But loving someone has not always been enough. In the corner of your heart, you do want to get loved and expect the same love that you have shown to your partner. But your expectations might get destroyed when your partner ends up on you and leaves you…

[venusgirltarot]

What Does The Next Chapter Of Your Life Look Like? — [♡] ;

☆ ミ book a personal reading with me ☆彡

Pile One ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Cards: The Hierophant, Page of Swords, Five of Cups, Page of Cups, Nine of Wands, King of Pentacles, Two of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Queen of Wands, Strength

As soon as I started the reading I started hearing “New Rules” by Dua Lipa in my head. Specifically the chorus where she’s like “one: don’t let him in you’ll have to kick him out again, two: don’t be his friend” and some other stuff before she’s like “you ain’t getting over him” it seems like the next chapter of you life is you putting you first and moving on from a past person. There’s not a lot of this person’s energy or really any at all. I can’t pick up on what exactly happened or why you’re moving on and I think it’s because this person has nothing to do with this next chapter of you life. You’re leaving this person and their energy in the past and not allowing them to be apart of your future and that truly seems to be the best decision you could make for yourself right now.

Some of you may have moved for this person? Maybe the two of you moved to a new place together or this was long distance and you moved to be with them? Maybe for some they moved for work so you relocated with them? Uprooted your life for this person to create a new one together in this new place and it just didn’t work out how you expected. It seems important to let you know that everything happens for a reason. You’re here in this new place for a reason so make the most of it, find that reason. Don’t let this person cou time to hold you back or take this new experience away from you. A lot of you seem to be entering this single era where your main and really only focus is you. You’re doing what you want and living the life you dream of in this next chapter. Living however you like with no fear of other’s opinion or judgment. Your just worried about your own happiness and it will be such a freeing and joyful experience for you. I think you’re about to find this new love for yourself. Even if you’re someone that’s confident and has a good sense of self, you’re about to connect with yourself in a way that you never have before. There’s much more depth here.

Some of you may hear from friends or mutual people that this person wants you back. Maybe they’ll try to reach out but won’t be able to get in contact with you so they’ll have mutual friends try to talk to you on their behalf. It feels very icky to me but not only from this person’s part but also these “friends” something about the energy here doesn’t sit right with me. Make sure to be careful trusting any and everybody and don’t keep people around that don’t want to respect your boundaries. Don’t let this person back into your life and don’t let anyone try to manipulate you back into a relationship with this person. I heard “not deserving of your energy and not worth your time”

This next chapter is about you and your love for yourself. It’s about self respect and kindness towards yourself. It’s setting boundaries and protecting your energy. Drinking more water and getting into a good routine/skin care routine seems significant as well as mint or lemon in your water? And chewing gum? Maybe that resonates for someone. Don’t be afraid to try new things or take classes on something you’ve always wanted to try. Pilates and cooking classes are coming in. Some of you may be wanting to start social media and that would be a good thing to do during this time if it’s something you’ve been thinking about. However if you’ve been wanting to start social media, specifically TikTok/YouTube or both please keep in mind that there are people or maybe like a management company that will want you to sign contracts or manipulate and take advantage of you so be mindful of that. You could blow up around the holidays if you start now and could get offers that you need to be wary of. That’s only if you have the desire to get on social media or have already started trying to build your social media so only take that message if it resonates.

I’ll end this reading by reminding you to be kind and gentle with yourself always 💓 take time to appreciate and truly live in this next chapter of your life because it’s a beautiful one, Pile 1. There’s so many exciting things happening for you.

Pile Two ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Cards: The World, Ten of Cups, The Magician, The Fool, Queen of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Strength, Death

Ahhh Pile Two I’m so excited for you!!! So it seems like you’re about to or just have achieved some huge milestone in your education/career. Maybe you’ve just finished school or an internship and now you’re applying to or about to start your dream job/just started your dream job. As far as this job or career goes, it seems you’ll fit in really well and come across and knowledgeable and well experienced by your peers so if that’s something you’re worried about, it isn’t something to worry about at all!

It seems like the biggest and really only concern going into this next chapter is possibly imposter syndrome or feeling like you don’t deserve this career or maybe can’t handle it. Therapy might be something you want to think about/look into. I think having an unbiased professional to tell you that you deserve this position and you’ve earned it because the work you’ve done has paid off. I’m also think routine could be important. A lot of these doubts/fears could come for you late at night so it’s important to go to sleep at a good time and get up in the morning. Keeping a good routine will ensure you’re not up at 3am to stress and overthink. You could have a large workload that can take time to get used to so make sure to take breaks and not overwhelm yourself with too much. Know that if you weren’t qualified, you wouldn’t be in this position and you’re here because you’re deserving of it.

Don’t be afraid to start conversations or get to know your co-workers. I think some of your closest connections can come from them and going out with your co-workers for lunch or after work can be a good way to decompress and ease your stress. I think these connections will also help you find mentors and also realize that you’re not alone in your initial fears and worries surrounding this job.

I think you’ll either start out or work your way up to a leadership role. This is just such a role model leader type of energy I see you in. I think you’ll get very comfortable within a few months (possibly 6-8?) after starting this new career and I think it’s largely in part due to your co-workers and just the overall work environment/vibe. It’s very inviting and leaves a lot of room for mistake and growth. You’ll feel very supported in this new position.

Overall, Pile Two, I think it’s important for you to not put too much pressure on yourself and go into this new experience knowing you’re so loved and supported in this new endeavor. I heard “everything works out for you” 🥺 make sure to give yourself the credit you deserve! Celebrate yourself and all your accomplishments! You’ve come very far, Pile Two, please don’t forget that. You’re deserving of everything good and happy and positive!

Pile Three ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Cards: Five of Cups, King of Swords, King of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Hermit, Death, Five of Swords, Four of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Five of Swords, Six of Pentacles, Ten of Wands, Ten of Swords

Okay, Pile Three. So we have a lot to get into here and I want to try to go into as much detail as I can with a general reading. It seems like you’re in a serious long term relationship that might be coming to an end or simply a rough patch. This is where I find it difficult to go in as depth with it being a general reading because I can’t say whether or not your relationship will survive this period because for some it will and others it won’t. I’m curious to see how many of you felt drawn to piles one and three because I feel like there’s going to be some overlap here. I thought I’d make it through this reading without a Taylor Swift song/reference but “You’re Losing Me” by Taylor Swift is coming through SO heavily in this reading and also fits this situation perfectly.

I’m not sure if one of you want marriage/kids while the other doesn’t is part of the problem or maybe it’s a lack of communication, trust, connection, etc. or the two of you just simply growing apart. There’s a strong desire for you to pull through and come out it this rough patch but maybe you’re person doesn’t see any issue at all in your relationship or maybe they just don’t care to fix it. It’s this very frustrating energy of you just hoping, wishing and waiting for this person to see things the way you do and start putting in the effort and desire you need from them.

There’s just a lot of imbalance and miscommunication or maybe no communication at all in this connection and the resentment and anger towards each other is just growing. I heard “at what point do you let go” there’s this feeling of defeat and sorrow. How much longer do you have to fight for a relationship that may not make it anyway? It’s a difficult situation and I know it’s frustrating but the answer to your question is really in your hands. I can’t give you a solid “yes” or “no” or tell you directly whether to stay or go because it seems to be a decision that you need to make for yourself.

Whether you stay or go, I think it’s incredibly important for you to de-center this person and your relationship with them and center yourself. Prioritize yourself and your wants/needs and see how that changes your perspective. Finding yourself and connecting with yourself on a deeper level will help you find the answer to your questions. When you come to a place where you really know yourself and your wants/needs and have enough respect for yourself to only accept the absolute best for yourself, you’ll know whether it’s best to stay or go. Put you first and see where that leads you. Know that you’re deserving of the love you desire and don’t accept anything less. You’re worthy of love, kindness, and care so don’t stay around anyone that can’t offer you those things. I heard “put yourself first and happiness will follow”

Pile Three, I’m very sorry if this message was frustrating or didn’t give you as direct of an answer as you were hoping for but I do hope it provided you with some peace and clarification. Please be kind and gentle with yourself and come to a decision only when you’re ready. Prioritize yourself and your wants/needs and know you’re deserving of nothing less than the absolute best.

[pickingupmymercedes]

1K Jukebox

I don't even know where to start, but I'm so beyond mind blown that 1k of you chose to follow me and these stories.Honestly, thank you to each and every single one of you, from the bottom of my heart.

REQUESTS CLOSED

And to celebrate we’re creating our very own jukebox of blurbs and one shots.

Requested Songs

1:59 - Normani ft. Gunna

Me & U - Zeke Bleu

Agora Hills - Doja Cat

No chill - PND

Nothing without you - The Weeknd

Die with a smile - Bruno Mars & Lady Gaga

Ride it - Jay Sean

Partition - Beyoncé

Broke me first - Tate McRae

Rocket - Beyoncé

Through the night - Maeta

That girl - Olly Murs

Blessed - Daniel Caesar

Let me go - Lou Val

Bryson Tiller - Blame

Sexual love - Maeta

As you leave - Cannan Cox

Steal my girl - 1D

Grovel - April Jai

London boy - Taylor Swift

Do me - Kim Petras

Need to know - Doja Cat

34+35 - Ariana Grande

Pretty Please - Dua Lipa

Seven - Jungkook

Bed chem - Sabrina Carpenter

Kiss me - Cassie

Diamonds - Rihanna

Press me - Chris Brown

Position - Ariana Grande

Always - Isak Danielson

Black Pearl - Exo

Haunted - Beyoncé

Neva Play - Megan Thee Stalion

Hands on you - Austin George

Back to december - Taylor Swift pt.1 pt.2

Next to you - Chris Brown & Justin Bieber

Nervous - John Legend

Sand - Dove Cameron

Red - Taylor Swift

Ausência - Marília Mendonça

Let it happen - Gracie Adams

Won't say I'm in love - Hercules Movie

Dynasty - MIIA

There you are - Zayn

Fallin' all in you - Shawn Mendes

You're in love - Taylor Swift

It Girl - Jason Derulo

Hold on 'til we're old - Jamie Miller

If you want to follow, all one shots will be under the ella1k hashtag

Rules:

Only Lewis requests

Please give me a general direction of genre and where you'd like things to go

I’ll write it as sfw and nsfw (please state if you don't want it nsfw)

I'll be accepting requests from the 29th of September through the 6th of October (a week)

They can range from 400 words to full 2k one shots (depends on what my mind comes up with)

I won’t write for a song twice (they’ll be listed down below and will be updated as they get requested)

The fics won't necessarily be posted in that order but they'll all be written (I'll try my best to get them all done asap)

Note: your idea might be incorporated into one of my on-going series.

Note 2: I'm updating the requested songs list every other day, so if you sent a request and in two/three days it hasn't been added tumblr probably ate your ask (do send it again, please)

[restlessmaknae]

it's your moment, baby // jung wooyoung

wooyoung + enemies to lovers + "if i do this, do you promise to stop harassing me?" "absolutely not. what kinda sick request is that?"

➳ Characters: dance major!Wooyoung x dance major!female reader/you

➳ Genre: enemies to lovers, college au, arts college au

➳ Words: 3.6k

➳ Warning: mentions of a sprained ankle

➳ A/N: This story was requested by the lovely @stories-inbetween-the-stars for my request event. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Also, this story is dedicated to @lily-blue. Happy birthday, Kinga! I thought this story would be up to your liking *-*

Title taken from Dua Lipa's 'Houdini'

➳ Masterlist for the request event

➳ ATEEZ taglist: @dat-town, @tranquilpetrichor, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @koishua, @squiishymeow, @s00buwu

You knew that arts college would be difficult because of the general competitive nature of arts, but you would have never expected it to be this difficult because of one extremely annoying guy - Jung Wooyoung.

It didn’t help either that your college friend groups overlapped, and your dorm roommate - Yiren - dated San who was one of Wooyoung’s friends, meaning that you had to see this annoying guy with his annoying shiteating grin at pretty much every social gathering. On the other hand, avoiding the said events just because he was there would have made him think that he had the upper hand in your dynamics, and you didn’t want to give him that pleasure. His ego was already over the top, you didn’t need to pump it up further.

Basically everyone in the dance department knew that you and Wooyoung had some bad blood that had originated back to the orientation week when he had deemed your freestyle hip-hop dance lacking, and you had bit back that he hadn’t done it any better, so he should have shut his mouth. That had happened right in front of the whole dance department and some other new students who were passing by, so news had gotten out pretty quickly.

Egos trampled upon, you had both not forgotten about your little quarrel, so every time you had met afterwards, you had ended up bickering. Once, the teacher had even sent you out of a practice room to talk it out between yourselves instead of disturbing the whole class, that’s just how much you despised each other.

So when Wooyoung came up to you during your second year close to your midterms, asking if you wanted to be his dance partner during the year-end gala, you laughed straight into his face. However, the boy seemed uncharacteristically serious, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you laugh to your heart’s content.

“Wait… Are you serious?” You quirked an eyebrow, finding his solemnity quite surprising and honestly… pretty pathetic.

Wooyoung let out a sigh, an annoyed one, as if he was doing you a favour by asking you the question.

“I’ve heard your dance partner for the gala sprained his ankle, and mine has to leave early for her study abroad semester, so it would also benefit you,” he stated the obvious which made you snort. Huh, so the news travelled fast enough this time, too.

What could you do though? You hated to admit that he was right, but he was right. Yunho had managed to fall down the stairs with his impossibly long legs, and he had sprained his left ankle. The doctor had said that it would take around four weeks to heal properly, but the gala was six weeks away, and you were suddenly left without a partner. So if you wanted to attend the gala, you needed a partner as soon as possible, and since everyone seemed to be taken already, or doing a solo performance, he was your best chance if you didn’t want to come up with a new choreography.

“If I do this, do you promise to stop harassing me?” You raised an eyebrow challengingly, and for a moment, just for the slightest of a moment, you thought that he could finally give you a break and answer like a normal person would instead of being the pain in the ass that he usually was.

Yet, he didn’t.

“Absolutely not. What kinda sick request is that?” He snickered as if it had been the joke of the century. Now, it was your turn to appear nonchalant, watching as he pulled himself together after his laughing session. “Besides, you have no choice but to choose me. I’m doing you a favour.”

“Huh, as if,” you retorted coldly, unable to admit that you needed him. Just as much as he needed you though. No one was doing a favour this way, right? “We are doing my choreography though,” you added with a shrug of your shoulders, hoping to turn this whole situation against him. After all, he was the one who posed the question, right? That meant that he was more desperate than you.

“Why would we do it though? I have our choreography, too. I bet it’s way better than yours.”

“Oh, please,” you bit out, letting out a huff in disbelief. Afterwards, you gazed at each other in silence, staring at the other with lips tight as if speaking up would mean that you lost, or that you gave in. Nonetheless, you couldn’t give him the satisfaction to give in, you wanted this to be fair. So you proposed:

“Fine, let’s have a vote on it. You get your friends and I get mine, we’ll show them our choreographies and we’ll see which choreography they vote for. I guess you also have a practice video or something like that to show off.”

Wooyoung seemed to be deep in thought after your suggestion - which was a very rare instance in his case -, then cleared his throat.

“Fine,” he breathed out, and you wanted to tease him about speaking up louder because you couldn’t hear him, but he was faster and proposed changing contacts and setting a date and location for the choreography vote. You agreed that it would be best if it was held as soon as possible given the six weeks until the gala, but you needed to contact your friends first. So you left it at that, but promised to get back to the other as soon as you could.

The game was on.

The rules were simple: you could have the same amount of friends and acquaintances present for the voting as the other, so even though Wooyoung said that he could get 12 people to come, you ended up with only 8 who could come on your side, so 8 it was on his, too. Since they could see who was in the video, they knew which choreography was yours and which one was Wooyoung’s, so it wasn’t like a blind voting. However, they had to be as unbiased as possible, and choose the one that they thought would fit you two better.

It ended up being your choreography for Dua Lipa’s Houdini against Wooyoung’s for Charlie Puth and Selena Gomez’s We don’t talk anymore, but everyone agreed that yours would be better, merely because it was more sensual. You didn’t really imagine Wooyoung being the one you would dance that kind of choreography with, you were so focused on winning the vote, but something’s gotta give, right?

On the other hand, when the first dance practice rolled by, you felt like a headache was creeping onto you pretty fast. However, you tried to be as patient as possible, after all, you could see that Wooyoung was hurt by the fact that his choreography wasn’t the chosen one. You tried to ignore most of his comments and focus on teaching him the steps instead of the tangible tension between you two, but it was pretty difficult when he wasn’t making it any easier.

“Please, Wooyoung, just try to act like you feel what the song is about,” you blurted out with your hands on your hips when he turned his face towards the mirror on his left instead of your own face when you two were supposed to be gazing at each other when the lines ‘tell me all the ways you need me’ were played.

“Oh, as if you are making it easy,” the boy snickered, finally looking at you.

“Weren’t you the one who told me at the orientation week that I was lacking because I didn’t know how to act out my emotions?”

“So you remember,” he commented after a few seconds of silence, a tug at his lips evident. You couldn’t really pinpoint whether it was surprise or bewilderment or a mixture of both, but you couldn’t understand him. After all, that’s what your beef had been about. Of course, you couldn’t forget about it, otherwise, you wouldn’t hold a grudge.

“All too well, thanks for asking,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, having enough of his pettiness. He could make up excuses all he wanted, but you wouldn’t let him get away with it - you could always come up with solutions to his excuses. “I’m not saying you have to feel those feelings towards me. Imagine your girlfriend or crush or whoever you want to,” you added on a second note, throwing your hands up in the air.

There was a moment when something flashed across Wooyoung's eyes, and even though you couldn’t tell what it was, in the next moment, his lips curled into a teasing smirk, and he broke the silence with one of the most annoying questions he had ever posed to you.

“Was that an indirect way of asking me if I have a girlfriend?” He quirked an eyebrow in a seductive way, and you fake gagged to make him think otherwise. He just had to be the most impossible person on Earth, and he had the nerve to act on it. What a nuisance.

“You are insufferable.”

“That’s new because most girls call me sexy or charming or handsome or…”

“Oh, gosh, shut up, and concentrate on dancing! We won’t get anywhere at this rate,” you reprimanded him, but you didn’t expect him to comply.

To be honest, you could try all you wanted, but Wooyoung was just as stubborn as you were, so if he wanted, he could be very hot-headed and act on his emotions rather than weighing out a situation based on pure facts. Maybe that’s why it was even more difficult to be truly mad at him. Instead, you felt frustrated, and you had a feeling that he was feeling the same way.

As expected, Wooyoung just had to continue smirking at you and wiggling his eyebrows, teasing you further about being interested in his love life. He pulled himself together only when you reminded him of the time and of the fact that if he wanted it to be over as soon as possible, he should focus on the choreography, not your conversation.

Afterwards, the atmosphere became a bit lighter, and you hated to admit it, but Wooyoung was a quick learner, and when he wasn’t being a pain in the ass, he managed to follow you well. You hoped that he could keep it up for both of your sake.

Six weeks was a pretty short time when you needed to teach someone a full choreography on top of your own classes, assignments, dance practices, and oh, did you mention that someone was Jung Wooyoung? Yeah, that made things a bit more complicated.

Wooyoung had his own set of duties, so you could squeeze in some time to practise only when it was convenient for both of you, and while it wasn’t a problem with Yunho before because you had the whole semester to prepare for the gala, with Wooyoung, it was only 6 weeks, so you had to squeeze in more practices. Nonetheless, that created more conflict in the beginning because it always seemed like one of you couldn’t make it, but after a while, you got used to practising together late at night or before your first class in the morning. That seemed to be the only way to make it work.

Plus, after a while, Wooyoung wasn’t that insufferable anymore. He had his moments, of course, but he was a talented dancer, and once he got over the fact that he was supposed to be in love with you to do the moves as accurately as possible, the whole choreography seemed a lot better. He was completely different from Yunho because Yunho was a very captivating dancer but a total sweetheart off-stage whereas Wooyoung was powerful on-stage and off-stage as well, but off-stage, he was more on the jokester side and he had a whole lot more confidence than your previous dance partner had.

Which is why it was even more baffling when he directly asked you if it was how you imagined the choreography when you finished teaching him the steps and you could get started on rehearsing the whole dance.

“I mean, it’s different dancing with you than with Yunho, but I think it turned out well,” you answered truthfully because it was difficult to compare the two of them. You also modified some parts because Wooyoung had some sensible suggestions, and you didn’t even manage to finish learning the whole choreography with Yunho by the time he had managed to sprain his ankle, thus you couldn’t even compare the two routines as a whole.

“Different good or different bad?” He quirked an eyebrow as he reached for a bottle of water, a smile hiding in the corner of his lips. He didn’t seem to be joking this time, merely curious, so you gave him what he wanted to hear:

“Different good.”

“That’s good,” he bobbed his head as his own conclusion and took a few sips from the water. His skin was dotted with drops of sweat, his jet-black locks were sticking to his temple and his forehead, but he didn’t care, he merely ran a hand through his hair like always. You hated to admit it, but he looked good. To be precise, you had always known that he looked good, but that just made him even more cocky in your eyes because he looked good and he knew it.

You didn’t ask what he meant by it, but you kept thinking about it during the remaining dance practice. You were so deep in thought that you miscalculated your steps at one point, and you would have definitely lost your balance after spinning out from his arms if he hadn’t caught you. He pulled you closer to him to keep you from falling down, but it meant that you were squeezed against his chest, your body closer to his than ever before.

It was different this time, too. It wasn’t a part of the choreography, it wasn’t a calculated closeness. It was just… how it turned out, and you were flustered because of this fact even more so. If you had been prepared for such an outcome, you would have been able to keep your emotions in check, but your heart was beating so rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks, and you didn’t like this feeling one bit.

This was new, this was odd, this was something you shouldn’t have felt towards someone you hated.

“Enjoying this?” Wooyoung inquired with a lopsided smirk when you didn’t speak up and didn’t back away from him. If it had been you a few weeks ago, you would have definitely batted his hands away or freed yourself from his grip the moment he had caught you, but these options hadn’t even crossed your mind this time.

That, though, you couldn’t tell him, or you would never hear the end of it.

“In your dreams,” you voiced out with a flippant eye-roll as you pushed yourself away from him. He seemed far too content for someone who had not given your behaviour much thought, no wonder you were ready for his call-out. What you had instead was very surprising though:

“Well, I enjoyed it very much,” he winked before prompting you to continue the practice if you finally found your footing, and you didn’t object. You needed something to concentrate on instead of the emotions he made you feel.

The gala came around sooner than expected.

With all the performances you had to showcase for your classes and the theoretical assignments you had to hand in with the end of the term approaching, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Add all of those confusing feelings you had towards Wooyoung to the mixture, and you had a pretty exhausting time dealing with everything. The said boy didn’t make it any easier either because he was borderline flirting, but with someone like him, you could never tell whether he was serious or not - that included both his professional aspirations and his flirtatious remarks. You tried hard not to think too much into his behaviour, you really tried, but it was impossible to ignore the fire in his eyes or the heat of his body when he was holding you in his embrace as part of your choreography.

It didn’t help either that when you settled on your outfits for the performance, he chose black boots, black leather pants and a loose shirt that he didn’t button up properly, but you had a feeling that it was on purpose. He even said so himself that it was when you met backstage before your performance, and agreed on going through your routine once more.

“Why not? It’s comfortable this way,” he shrugged his shoulders as if it was something natural, and you shook your head, feeling very attacked by the exposed skin on his chest that was out in full display. “Don’t tell me you feel flustered because of it,” he tilted his head while he was trying to read your expression, and there it was, that damn teasing smirk playing along the edges of his lips.

“Of course not.”

“Good to know that you won’t be too distracted then,” he replied almost instantly, that smirk getting wider and wider. You kept your chin up high even when he took a step closer to you. You weren’t a fool to back away. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. You couldn’t.

“I’m a professional.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he responded challengingly, and took another step closer to you. You kept your gaze steady, not letting your eyelashes bat faster than before, and kept the eye-contact.

A few seconds later, someone came in to let you know that you were up next in about 5 minutes, so you stopped gazing at each other, and followed the student to halt just beside the stage. Yunho was very eager to come by to see your performance (he was okay with walking now, but wouldn’t need to dance as a practical assignment until the next term) and a few of your uni friends who could make it, so you had some people to look out for in the audience.

“Nervous?” Wooyoung inquired, genuine curiosity shining in his chocolate-brown orbs this time, and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Not really. You?”

“Me? Nervous? Oh please,” he huffed, theatrically placing a hand over his heart as if he was hurt by your question. You let out a lighthearted laugh, and punched him in the shoulder, all in good fun. He smiled back at you, and suddenly, you felt your throat close up. You felt comfortable beside him, you really did, and it was rather new, rather… unexpected.

When they called for you to go on stage, Wooyoung reached out to squeeze your hands once before letting go of you again. You got in position without giving it a second thought, but while you were dancing, you couldn’t help but wonder: was he really acting being in love with you, or did he actually resonate with the message of the song? You didn’t feel like you were acting, it came naturally, almost like speaking your native language, and dancing with him felt like having a conversation with him. He held you strong and steady when he needed to, but he was gentle when the movement required. He smirked at you at certain lines while he gazed at you intently at others. It was all a part of the choreography, but still, with him, it felt real.

The performance came to an end in no time, and you could barely catch your breath when you were ushered down from the stage. You went back to your assigned waiting area as instructed, and even though Wooyoung seemed just as out of breath as you, he started laughing. You raised an eyebrow in question, puzzled by his sudden reaction.

“It’s just that… I would have never thought that we would make such good dance partners… and I…” He sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “I remember San telling me that if I thought about it, I would realise that you and I aren’t that different. I guess he was right,” he admitted through ragged breaths, looking up at you to see your reaction.

You weren’t that far from each other, but you took a step closer to him while you were pondering over your response. When he didn’t back away, you took another step closer to him just like he had done so before your performance.

“Really? In terms of what?

“Well, he said a lot of things,” Wooyoung answered semi-seriously before closing the gap between you two and placing a hand on your back to pull you even closer to him, a smile tugging at his lips. “But I like the fire in your eyes the most, and I think we feel the same way.”

You hated to admit it - just like basically everything when it came to him -, but he was right. You liked the fire in his eyes, but you liked it even more so because that fire seemed to be burning beside you, burning for you.

No questions were asked before both of you leaned in for a kiss, and no questions were asked afterwards either. You really did make great dance partners, and maybe even better ones off the stage.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

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Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️