#dua for loved one to come back

[autumnrory]

cowboy carter is absolutely my fave beyonce album since lemonade like it doesn't seem like a lot that i've already listened twice in two days but for me who so often is like okay i'll listen to a new release and then come back to it in a week or so bc i'm listening to so much other stuff it does show how much i'm into this one

[islamicspecialistforloveback]

Islamic Dua To Get Your Lost Love Back

Today we will talk about Islamic Dua To Get Your Lost Love Back. We all know that losing your true Love is very heartbreaking and painful. The most common reason behind lost Love is our lack of mutual understanding, or the other reason could be a love triangle. Sometimes many couples do not respect their partner because they have a misunderstanding in their mind that they can’t leave…

[honkytonk-hangman]

Good In Bed

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay

Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished &lt;;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3

Masterlist

Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.

“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.

You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.

It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.

You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.

The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.

After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.

You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.

Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.

“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.

“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.

Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.

“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.

“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.

“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.

Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.

“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”

Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.

“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.

“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.

“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.

“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.

“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.

“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.

“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.

“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”

Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.

“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.

“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.

Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.

“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.

You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.

“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.

“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.

“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”

You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.

“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.

You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.

You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.

You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.

“I’m not good at this stu—”

“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry—”

“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.

He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.

“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.

“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.

Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.

“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.

When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.

[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

[virgosimagination]

Things I Have Manifested Using the Law of Assumption

Desired face. I wanted to look like a mixture of Dua Lipa and Bella Hadid. This was my first "major" manifestation, and it took me about two months. At first, I affirmed and persisted, but I was doing so from a state of lack. Once I switched to embodying the state where I had my desired face, it manifested in a little over a week. Before I fell asleep at night, I would imagine myself waking up and looking in the mirror to see my desired face. I would do this a few times in order to feel the wish fulfilled, and then I would allow myself to daydream about other things until I fell asleep.

Desired body. After I manifested my desired face, I wanted my desired body to go along with it. I wanted to be 5'11 with long legs, about 10 lbs. lighter, and smaller breasts. I basically wanted a supermodel's body. I embodied the state of having my desired body for a few days, and then woke up one day about five inches taller. I kept banging my head on things! Lol

My desired apartment. I really wanted to move out of my parent's house. This one was a bit harder for me, because I was faced with reminders regularly that I didn't live on my own. It was hard for me to ignore my 3D fully at first. I was able to ignore some parts of my 3D, but other parts were harder. After meditating on it one night, I realized what I was "doing wrong" was that I wasn't fully living in my 4D, as I was allowing myself to be distracted by negative aspects of living with my family. Finally, I remembered Neville's story of when he manifested getting honorably discharged from the military. He said that night, he fell asleep imagining that he was in his bed back home. I did this for three nights: I imagined, when I was falling asleep at night, that I was in my new bed in my new apartment. I felt the cold air (my parents kept the heat high), I heard the city noises outside of my window. On the fourth morning, I woke up in my desired apartment.

My SP. My SP was a guy who was in one of my classes at university. We had never talked before, but we sat a few seats from one another in class. I embodied the state of being in a relationship with him. I stopped embodying the state of being single, the state of having a crush, and the state of being lonely. Every night, I imagined him falling asleep in bed next to me. It took me three days of embodying my new state for him to ask for my number. We went on a date and it went swimmingly. We have now been officially together for four months. We just spent a lovely Valentine's Day together!

These are my "biggest" manifestations. I got them all by applying states. My biggest tip is for to ignore your 3D, because as long as you are focused on having your desire already in your 4D, it has no choice but to manifest. Everything comes from imagination!

[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! :)

[gorgeys]

Come to get your fix? - (Margot Robbie x Reader)

At an afterparty, you see Margot for the first time in a long time…

Margot Robbie x femsinger!reader

Warnings: slight age gap (Margot is 30ish, reader is 25ish), mentions of sex, just sexy vibes

A/N: this got a lot longer than it was supposed to be cuz I kinda got carried away with the beginning and the backstory but I hope you enjoy!

2.6k words

There were seven different Met Gala after parties, all of which you had been invited to, but of course you chose the only one that she would be attending.

Well, you really had no other choice.  You had to go to Dua Lipa’s party at Virgo on the Lower East Side.  You and Dua were close friends and all the biggest celebrities were going to be there.

And you were excited for the most part.  It was one of the few nights where you got to hang out with your most famous friends as you danced and drank the night away.

When you arrived, ditching your Chanel gown for a sheer, golden chain dress that resembled royalty, you dove right into the many greetings you’d have to make throughout the night.  Of course you got many congratulations on your new album which had easily risen to the top of the charts with several hit singles.  And, since you had released new tour dates only last night, several celebrities were already expressing their excitement over attending your LA shows.  You thanked them like always, being sure to compliment Zendaya on her new movie and thanking Rihanna for sending you a new package of Fenty Beauty products.

Only after at least an hour did you even find the bar.  You ordered your go-to cocktail and paid for whatever your team wanted to drink, exhaling a long sigh.  Your voice had already gotten scratchy and hoarse from the day’s events plus the long press tour you had endured the past few weeks.  You craved a moment to relax.

But not even a few seconds later did Jack Harlow appear behind you to question why you left him on read for the past three days.  Internally rolling your eyes, you mumbled a vague response while your eyes scanned the room for a distraction.  You only half listened to him as he tried to get in your pants once more, but you fully stopped paying attention when you finally found her.

There she was, sitting in a booth beside Cara Delevigne across the room.  You could tell she was looking for a way out of the situation from the way her shoulders were angled away from Cara and her nails tapped anxiously on the table.

You shamelessly stared, watching her eyes retreat from Cara’s face every once in a while to venture out into the crowd.  Her legs were crossed and she sat as straight as a pin like she always had.  You remembered how her perfect posture alone always made you feel small.  She carelessly flicked her blonde hair back away from her face, smiling at whatever part of the long, winded story Cara was on.

You told yourself so many times that you had moved on. It was a repetitive thought that pounded into your brain each night when you were partying in cities all over the world.  And sometimes it felt like you really did move on. You would naturally send a flirty wink to the cute girl at the bar or grind on the hot guy on the dance floor, enjoying the fruitful chase.

But each morning, when you woke up in an expensive hotel room beside a stranger, you always wished she was laying beside you instead.  It felt hopeless at times when you were stalking her Instagram or scrolling through your camera roll at the many, many pictures of you and her.

You only truly believed you had moved on when you met your most recent girlfriend.  She was finally the breath of fresh air you were looking for.  The thoughts of Margot soon felt far and few in between as a new woman consumed your everyday life.  She was beautiful and sweet and loving and everything you needed.  It was rare for one of your partners to even last more than a couple weeks since you had a reputation of being quite the maneater, but you were glad it did.  She was everything.

Until you were gaping at Margot from across the club.  You could barely remember your girlfriend’s name when blue eyes finally met yours.  They were piercing, like you remembered, and they seemed to look right through you, even from the other side of the room.  Her smile melted as she realized who she was looking at.

You took your eyes off of her for a moment as you accepted your drink from the bartender.  You thanked him and glanced back.  To your satisfaction, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you.  You lifted the glass to your lips and took a teasingly slow slip without breaking eye contact. You watched her take a deep breath, slightly pursing her lips, as she silently contemplated how to handle you.  Oh, how you loved to be handled by her.

Her attention was stolen for a moment as Cara excused herself from the table.  Margot sent her a forced smile and a slight wave before she was lost in the crowd.

You had been dreading this moment for weeks, the inevitable moment when you’d meet her sculpted face that always begged you to come closer.  But now that it was happening, it almost felt euphoric.

“Get lost, Jack,” you said, shoving his shoulder out of your way. He groaned but didn’t protest.  You had set your path of destruction and now there was no stopping you.

You focused on making long, smooth strides in your tall heels and swaying your hips a bit more than usual as her eyes wandered your incoming figure.  Her face was stoic but her gaze was so familiar.  It always made you want to impress her, to be extra good for her.  To be wanted by her was a better feeling than any number one album or one-night lover.  You were glad your dress didn’t leave much for the imagination.

And then, after cutting through the dance floor, you were there, placing your hand upon the table as you slid into the seat beside her.  You pressed your thigh into hers, the only thing between them being the golden chains of your dress.  The rounded booth kept the two of you secluded from the other happenings of the club.

Although you were beside her, you had each turned your heads to match one another, face to face.  Her eyes had never left you and now you could feel her breath against the sensitive skin of your upper lip.

“Hi,” she said.  You were envious of how confident she sounded with your face inches from hers.  Your only relief was the faint quirk of her lips.  You couldn’t tell if it was well-intentioned or mischievous.

“Hi,” you whispered breathlessly, leaving your lips slightly open.  She seemed to take the bait as her eyes devoured your glossy, inviting lips.

“Come to get your fix?” she teased, sliding her tongue across her top lip.  It was something she always used to say to you when you sneaked into her trailer or violently tugged her into the bathroom.

It reminded you of the times when her soft fingers molded your body into whatever piece of pottery she wanted you to be.  The lick of her lips reminded you of all the times her tongue rewarded you afterward.

You clicked your own tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Something like that,” you mumbled, almost annoyed by all the memories she awakened.

“I was surprised,” she began, her nails skimming the chains along your hip, making a high-pitched noise.  You tried not to show how the closeness of her fingers made you feel.  “I didn’t see you with anyone.”

She was obviously referring to the fact that you hadn’t brought a date to the gala.  Of course, knowing your long history, she had expected you to have someone young and new by your side.  After all, TMZ had claimed you were dating four different people in the last two weeks.

You weren’t surprised by her prying.  She always cut right to the chase whenever she was with you.  But you were a little taken aback that she had asked it so outright considering how things had ended between you.

“Well, I was surprised I didn’t see you with anyone.”  You couldn’t help the accusatory attitude that dripped from your voice.

“Hmm,” she hummed with a small smile as if she was expecting that response.  She peered down at her hand as it climbed the chains to sit comfortably atop your thigh.  

It was her “date” that had ruined your “relationship” in the first place.  By “date,” I mean husband and by “relationship,” I mean affair.

It was your first acting gig and in a blockbuster movie at that.  Before you had even introduced yourself, you locked eyes with her across the table at the first script reading and you knew you were hers.

But when she began shooting seductive glances from across the set, you assumed your eyes were playing tricks on you.  When she began grabbing onto you anytime you were in arms reach, you assumed she was just one of those touchy people.  And even that one time when she asked you to “be a good girl” and grab her a water, you just assumed it was a thing she said, even if it made your chest feel tight and your thighs squeeze together.

Because, after all, she was an older, straight, married woman.  Or at least that’s what you thought.

It wasn’t until she got you alone in her trailer, pushed you onto the couch, and attacked you with kisses that she made it clear.  From that moment on, you were her secret and she had to be yours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was still as perfect as could be.  Until it wasn’t.

Before she had even made an advance on you, you knew you were bound to catch feelings.  But you weren’t expecting it to hit you like a load of bricks.  Nevertheless, you knew you were just some affair to her, some sex toy for her to play with, so it was easy to keep quiet and occasionally dream of what could be.

The real kicker was when, a couple days before shooting wrapped, she admitted she had fallen for you.  Your whole world lit up and came crashing down on you simultaneously.   

Hearing those words felt like hearing the song of the ice cream truck on a hot summer day: pure relief. You had loved her unwaveringly.

But what trumped that was the undeniable realization that you were only second to her.  Second to her husband and the life she had created with him.  She could never love you the way you loved her.

So, when promo for the movie was coming to an end, you had to give her the ultimatum. She had put off the decision for as long as possible.  That was until you confronted her in her hotel room in a wreck of tears and rage.

You weren’t surprised, but disappointed when you weren’t her choice.  She had begged you to stay, to spend one more night with her, but you left in a disheveled hurry, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you.

Sometimes, when you lie awake at night, you wish she had never told you she loved you.  Then maybe it would have been easier to walk away and forget about her.  It would have been easier to accept that she was just using you for a couple good fucks.  But here you were, sitting beside her, rehashing your inevitable heartbreak because she was always so irresistible and she loved you

She looked back up at you, pushing her face even closer to yours.  Her smile grew when she saw your lips tightly pressed together and your eyebrows furrowed.  You were always so bad at hiding your frustration from her.

“I left him,” she said, squeezing your thigh.  You could see the excitement within her, begging for a release.

Meanwhile, you felt dizzy.

“Wh-What do you mean you left him?”

“I mean that I left him,” she repeated, smiling wider at your shocked expression.  You were sure you looked so stupid, almost like a dead bug with your eyes wide and your jaw hanging open.  “Just waiting to finalize the papers.”

“Oh my god,” was all you could manage.  Your hand came up to your mouth, covering the gaping hole.  “Oh my god.”

It was the words you had always wanted to hear but at the most unexpected time.  Her hypnotizing smile made your head spin as the colors of the club swirled together in your peripheral.

“I just-I don’t understand.  Why…now?”

She shot you a slightly confused look, as if the answer was obvious, but a lot of time had passed and you finally needed her to be clear.

She used her free hand to remove your hand from over your mouth and drop it into your lap.  Then she firmly grasped your chin, ensuring your eyes never left her candid ones.  Her touch shot warmth up your cheeks and down your neck, just the shock you needed to wake you from your daze.

“Because I know I want you.  And I tried being without you but I just…I can’t,” she confessed, the words scrambling out of her throat as if they had been trying to for days.

Your heart swelled in your chest at her pure sincerity.  Instinctively, you wanted to jump into her arms, to let her have you in every way.  But that little bit of insecurity still creeped up your spine.  The insecurity she had created when she chose him all those months ago.

“Are-Are you sure?”

She only laughed.  Honey may as well have been dripping from her lips as the sound was so sweet.  Every sound that left her lips was angelic.

“I’ve been thinking about this every day since you left.  I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Her hand left your thigh to tuck a few pieces of your loose hair behind your ear, her hand lingering on the side of your neck.  You felt like you were on fire and she reveled in the way the heat flooded your irises.

But then you felt like you were forgetting something, something important.

“I have a girlfriend, Mar,” you suddenly said, your fingers wrapping lightly around the forearm of the arm that held your chin.

Margot certainly wasn’t expecting that confession this late in the conversation.  But your relationship couldn’t have been too serious if your new girlfriend wasn’t there, hanging off your arm.  She proceeded without caution.

“Well, I don’t see her anywhere,” she said, tilting your head downward with the pull of her hand, forcing you to stare up at her through hooded eyes.  She always adored when you looked at her from that angle, especially when she was knuckle deep inside of you.

You don’t even really know why you said it.  You knew, girlfriend or not, you would always choose Margot.  And she knew that.

“So, you want me or not, baby?”  She pursed her lips in a fake pout, so close to yours.

You couldn’t control yourself and you heard yourself make a faint noise of unbridled temptation.  She seemed quite satisfied by that as her thumb rubbed small circles into your chin, the nail grazing your lip every once in a while.

You both already knew the answer.

“Yes, fuck, I want you,” you said, your voice the most confident it had been all night but still the most desperate.

A feeling of pure bliss consumed your body.  Just hearing yourself say it made a smile creep onto your lips.

Margot quickly copied you.  She raised your chin to meet hers and wasted no more time.  Finally, finally, she kissed you.  She didn’t care who was watching as she firmly held your face, guiding you in every which way.

She was the only person in your universe and you were the only person in hers.

lmk if you guys want more Margot or any of her characters!! I will def write for Barbie, Harley, and even Naomi.  I will prob write something for Barbie soon so stay tuned!

And if you have a request I haven’t responded to, I’m really sorry it’s taken a long time but I am working on it!

[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

[mandosaur]

New Rules (Miguel O'Hara / Reader)

Fandom: Across the Spider-Verse

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara / Reader

Word Count: 11,320

Estimated Reading Time: 40:58

Summary:

“No.”

Her voice is firm and she jabs a finger at your chest.

“Do not do that. Hit ignore. Block him. Toss the thing at the wall. Do not answer.”

Lyla calls again and sends an alert that Miguel is trying to contact you.

“Hit ignore! Don’t do it!” Gia reaches out for your watch.

You stand abruptly. It’s a stupid, stupid choice. You know it is. Gia is right, you should just chuck the thing in a garbage bag.

But you still fish your phone out of Gia’s purse and toss some cash at the bar.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize.

Your on and off again friends with benefits arrangement with Miguel comes to a close, but you just can’t seem to let him go.

Loosely based off “New Rules” by Dua Lipa.

“One: Don't pick up the phone You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone Two: Don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three: Don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him.” “New Rules” by Dua Lipa.

—————

The outfit you’ve picked out for yourself tonight looks great. It’s a red little number that’s been in your closet for ages aching to be worn. You weren’t sure when you bought it how it would look like on you, but it makes you feel great when you catch a sight of yourself in the mirror. You look attractive, hot, and it steels some of your resolve as you head down to where you and your friend agreed to meet.

If you were being honest, you’ve really needed a confidence boost these past few days. The heart ache nestled deep in your chest wouldn’t go away and simply touring New York looking for villains of the week to fight wasn’t cutting it.

A sigh leaves your lips as you find yourself in a bar downtown. Gia, your roommate, has selected a bar for you both to have dinner at. It’s relatively quiet tonight with only a handful of people, yet it still offers plenty of distraction. You may not have been enthusiastic about going out, but you can appreciate having something else to put your mind to.

Although you can’t tell Gia the truth about your recent stint with heartbreak, she knows the details. She knows you had a little fling going on with a guy who checked all your boxes but just wasn’t willing to commit. He’d take you into his bed then leave before the sun rose. It was a never ending push and pull.

Gia didn’t understand why you couldn’t just block the guy and be done with it. She had already chastised you for your “lack of self control” and “frustrating addiction” to pain.

Of course, she didn’t know Miguel.

Miguel. The man who had come into your universe and invited you into his elite little Spider-Man task force to hunt for anomalies. The man who seemed to understand what loss was better than anyone and made you feel seen. Perhaps the only person who knew you better than you.

Gia didn’t get the song and dance you had around him because she didn’t know what it was like to exist as a masked vigilante losing everyone around you. She didn’t know how lonely it was or how sometimes you couldn’t tell who was under the mask. Or if there even was a part of you left that wasn’t just tied to your responsibilities as a hero.

Miguel was the only one who got you. The two of you had clicked like puzzle pieces after meeting. He favored you over the others and had moments where he seemed like he loved you back. Being with him was like finally finding a piece of yourself that you hadn’t realized was missing.

When the two of you had started sleeping together, you had been hopeful. Perhaps the little arrangement between you both would lead to something new. Hell, there had been plenty of moments where he had seemed softer outside of the bedroom and quite a few times you’d catch him staring with a look of affection-

But then everything would go wrong. The moment the two of you got close outside of a biblical sense, he’d pull back. Close you out and end things with you. You’d go days without speaking to each other feeling miserable and heart broken only to be suddenly called back by him.

He’d pull you back in like a magnet and sleep with you over and over again until the next time you ventured too close and he shoved you aside once more.

It was a very painful back and forth, yet you couldn’t find it in you to end things permanently. Not when he took up a large part of your heart, and not when he was your boss of all things.

Currently, you were on the outs again. He’d called it off a few days ago after a bad mission. He’d come back to HQ in a horrible mood and everyone else had suffered for it. When you’d walked up to his office to check in on him, he had snapped at you to leave. His words had been harsh and cold. He had ordered you to stop acting like his girlfriend, constantly checking in and taking care of him like a child, and reminded you that nothing existed between you other than two adults satisfying some urges.

His words had been a blow to your heart and you had left HQ suppressing tears. Gwen and Hobie had watched you go with sympathy, and Jess had mercifully delayed your missions for a while to give you time to recover. Either that or Miguel had ordered her to keep you away from him.

So, naturally, your best friend had suggested you go out for some drinks. Gia didn’t know about your alter ego or quite who Miguel was, but she knew enough to declare him undeserving of you and promised you’d find someone else.

You look up briefly when Gia arrives. She looks stunning in the neon dress she’s wearing and has done her hair in an elaborate style. There’s a happy grin on her face as she slides in the booth opposite of you and you envy her joy.

She calls your name and hugs you over the table.

“You look hot today!” She remarks.

You offer her your best smile which isn’t much. Already, you can feel some of your earlier apprehension return. You have no energy to be out and about with people. Tonight would have been so much better had you been able to curl up in bed with a box of tissues and some ice cream.

“Meet any cute people?” Gia asks. She rummages through the fries you’ve ordered while scanning the bar.

There’s a group of guys in one corner who eye her with appreciation. You think you catch one looking at you too, but you turn away uninterested. The guy seems handsome, but his eyes aren’t red and he doesn’t have two sets of fangs. He’s not the one you desperately want.

“I’m not feeling too social today,” you admit. You twirl your straw wrapper pensively.

Gia gives you a look with a deadpan expression. You know what she’s thinking. She finds it frustrating you can’t just let Miguel go. She doesn’t get why you’re so hung up on him.

But you are. You genuinely have fallen for him in your time working together. He’s showed you parts of him he’s never showed others. He’s told you about Gaby and how he raised her as a single father in her dimension for months before losing her. He’s told you about how he got his powers and the doubts that come with it. He’s shared his canon events with you and opened up to you about the stress he’s in with holding up the entire multiverse.

He’s let you in where he’s shut others out. You know he feels something for you, are sure of it deep in your bones, but he’s just not willing to admit it to himself. That’s what makes it all so frustrating. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is torture, but loving someone who does yet won’t allow it for themselves is a death sentence.

Gia sighs and the sound rouses you out of your thoughts. She pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes tightly.

“You have really got to get back out there, babe. He’s not the only man in the world. He’s not adding to your life,” she shakes her head.

You look down at your hands.

“You know I can’t,” you murmur.

A part of you wishes you could. If you could flick a switch and let him go, you’d do it. You’d be better off forgetting all about him. It would save you so much heart ache, but your feelings run deep. He’s captured you completely, tangled you up in his web, and you can’t let him go.

Gia thrusts a hand out at you with a look of impatience. She wiggles her fingers and waits expectantly.

“Gia-“

“Ah, ah, you know the drill. Phone.”

You give her a glare but pass your phone over. Gia has insisted on confiscating it since your last break up. She doesn’t want you to be tempted to call Miguel. Of course, your watch is the only real way to connect with him because of the differences in universes, but you’re certainly not going to tell her that.

Instead, you purse your lips when she slides your phone into her purse and watch as she leans forward. She has a gleam in her eye when she surveys the bar. She’s watching every person carefully trying to assess who’s worth your time.

Eventually, she zeroes in on the guy from before. He’s broken off with his friends and is now sitting alone at the bar. Nursing a glass of something amber, he catches Gia’s eye as he throws another look your way.

You don’t even have time to react before Gia is yanking you up by your hand. She’s pitching you forward before you can even blink. You half wonder if she’s the one with superpowers and not you when you suddenly find yourself in front of the guy.

Gia waves the bartender forward and not so subtly shoves you towards the guy. You catch yourself on his chair with a hiss of her name.

“You alright?” The stranger blinks up at you in surprise.

“I am so sorry,” you hold your hands up, “My friend is drunk-“

Gia swoops in and tosses an arm around your shoulder. She has the same mischievous grin she wore back in college every time she had some idea terrible she was cooking up. It’s gotten you into some trouble before and scares you now.

“Hey, you look like you could use some company. My friend here just left her asshole ex. Why don’t you two catch up while I get us some drinks?” She pats your shoulder and is gone in a whirlwind of energy.

You could melt into the floor out of humiliation.

“OhgodGia,” you groan. You don’t even want to look at the stranger out of sheer embarrassment.

The stranger coughs lightly in surprise before offering you a smile. He blinks in Gia’s wake before offering his hand.

“Oh wow,” he remarks with his own blush, “Well that was subtle. But, please, sit. I-My name is Tyler.”

Knowing that Gia will kill you if you don’t at least try, you slide into the stool next to him slowly. Maybe if you entertain him for a few minutes you can satisfy Gia and convince her to take you home. Then you can proceed to strangle her in a dark alleyway away from witnesses for putting you in this situation.

“I am really sorry about her-again. She means well she’s just a lot,” you run a hand down your face and introduce yourself with your name.

The stranger, Tyler, seems friendly at least. He grins easily at you with his own embarrassment. You can tell Gia has put him on the spot too. At least the two of you have that in common.

“Well, at least she broke the ice for me. I saw you a while ago and thought you were really pretty. My own friends were teasing me too,” he offers.

You wave down the bartender and place an order. You definitely won’t get through Hurricane Gia without a drink.

“So, a break up?” Tyler offers a sympathetic smile, “Been there. I just broke up with my fiancée a few months ago. I think I spent an entire month living off of frozen pizza rolls and watching terrible documentaries just to take the edge off. I definitely know how awful it feels.”

His words put you at ease some. You swirl the ice around your glass.

“Breakup is maybe not the right word. We weren’t really together. I wanted more and he didn’t.”

It hurts to say it out loud. It sounds so pathetic when you put it that way, but you can’t help it. The truth is a brutal knife to the ribs.

Tyler makes a noise of sympathy.

“Well, he didn’t know what he missed out on. It’s his loss,” he lifts his glass to you.

You glance away and see Gia staring from your old table. She mouths for you to keep going. You flip her off when Tyler turns around.

“I’m really sorry about my friend. She’s determined that the way to get over heartache is to find someone else. I’m not really interested in that,” you admit. Better to lay your cards out now.

Tyler leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Don’t worry, I’m not either. My friends dragged me here tonight too. The one in the gray suit is getting married next month and wanted a chill night out. I’m not here to meet someone. It’s too soon, but maybe we can be friends? Breakup buddies and all that.”

He offers you his cellphone and asks for your number. You bite your lip but decide to take the plunge. Why not? It’s not like you owe any loyalty to anyone.

Once you’ve exchanged information, Tyler’s friends call him over. They’ve decided to move on to another bar across town. Tyler has no choice but to go.

He gets up and gives you a friendly wave.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he turns around then hesitates and turns back to you, “And, for the record, that ex of yours is an idiot. I wouldn’t have let someone like you go.”

Once he’s gone and you’re feeling bashful again, Gia slides into the seat he just occupied. She’s munching on fries like she didn’t just humiliate you. You aim a hard kick to her shin and feel better when she shrieks.

“Never do that to me again,” you warn.

She doesn’t promise you that. Instead, she presses you for info on Tyler.

“You two going on a date soon?” She urges.

“He just got out of a breakup too. He’s not interested either. I’m not going out with anyone.”

Gia sighs.

“Look, the important thing is that you let this mystery guy of yours go. This on and off thing is for high schoolers who haven’t developed their prefrontal cortex and have zero impulse control. You’re an adult. I don’t want to see you so broken up about him. You need to get him out of your system.”

You look away.

It sounds easy, you admit, but forgetting Miguel isn’t an option. He invaded your senses. You remember what it’s like to be held and kissed by him every time you try and push him aside. You remember the way he laughs when you manage to crack through his walls, the way he smiles when he thinks you aren’t looking, and the way his voice gets softer when you call. Even if he’s been yelling at someone moments before, his voice always gets soft when you appear.

He loves you. You know it. He probably knows it. Everyone in the agency knows it. It’s just that he’s not willing to take that final plunge.

Before you can say anything more, your watch begins to glow. Lyla is trying to patch a call through.

Gia doesn’t know much about your watch, but she knows enough to guess you’re being called. She narrows her eyes at you when she sees the way your body tenses.

“No.”

Her voice is firm and she jabs a finger at your chest.

“Do not do that. Hit ignore. Block him. Toss the thing at the wall. Do not answer.”

Lyla calls again and sends an alert that Miguel is trying to contact you.

“Hit ignore! Don’t do it!” Gia reaches out for your watch.

You stand abruptly. It’s a stupid, stupid choice. You know it is. Gia is right, you should just chuck the thing in a garbage bag.

But you still fish your phone out of Gia’s purse and toss some cash at the bar.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize.

The look Gia gives you is murderous. She puts her head in her hands like she’s fed up with you. In her place, you’d probably be fed up too.

Still, you slip out the bar and hit your watch. A little projection of Lyla appears as you duck into a secluded area.

“Lyla?” You tilt your head.

Lyla hums, “Miguel wants you at his office. Says he hasn’t seen you in a while. Poor Miggy is worried for you. You don’t usually spend so much time away from HQ.”

She patches a portal for you. You look around to make sure you aren’t being watched then slide in. Gia will definitely tear you a new one for this tomorrow, but can’t resist the urge not to go back to him.

———————————————

Miguel is standing by his computer when you arrive. He’s reading some reports when you pop in. His eyes glance at you as you emerge and his eyes widen.

You’re still in your outfit from the bar. It’s a little ego boost to see the way his eyes scan you from inch to inch. If nothing else, you can find comfort in the fact that you still have the power to drive him crazy.

“You called?” You voice.

HQ is empty this time of night. Most people are either back in their own universe or staying in some of the dorms on the other side of the building. For now, it’s just you and Miguel.

Some anticipation builds in your stomach. This is how a lot of your late night meetings have started.

Miguel straightens up from his chair. You don’t miss the way he swallows when he sees you.

“Did I interrupt something?”

You can’t be sure but maybe there’s just the hint of an edge to his voice. He sounds a little miffed, like he’s jealous. It’s a nice change from his usual aloofness with you.

“I went out for drinks,” you admit, “What is it?”

It’s been days since you’ve last seen him and you missed him. It’s so easy to miss him. He has a hold on you that you can’t possibly escape from. He’s magnetic without trying, has a good heart even if he hides it behind a facade of anger and coldness, and he cares about people. He’s a good person. You’ve glimpsed it all and have fallen hard. Being without him hurts more than any broken bone or injury.

Miguel hesitates when he looks at you. You take stock of him.

He has dark circles under his eyes and looks stressed. A part of you hopes it’s because your last argument has also been keeping him up. If you aren’t the only one hurting, you think it’ll make you feel better. Then again, there’s a mountain of paperwork on his desk and his computer has a ton of messages unread. Maybe it’s less you and more the job itself that has kept him up.

“Jess said you needed a few days off because you weren’t feeling well. I just wanted to make sure you were healthy,” he turns away from you, “Yet I’m sure you are. If you can go around drinking, you can go on a mission.”

A prickle of irritation fills you.

“Did you just call me here because of that? This could have been an email.”

You hope your face doesn’t show the disappointment you feel. For a second, you had been expecting him to have changed. To have admitted he was wrong and hadn’t treated you fairly. Then again, this was Miguel. Miguel wasn’t exactly known for being sentimental or emotional.

“What else is there?” He doesn’t even turn around before he’s at his computer, “I’m assigning you a case this week. Your little vacation is over. You’re dismissed.”

Indignation fills you. You shake your head firmly.

“Come on, Miguel. Give me a little more than that. I haven’t seen you in days and all you do is assign me more work? That’s it?”

You step forward towards him.

He turns around and glares. His eyes flash with a warning.

“That’s it. Go.”

He’s got the voice he uses for the other recruits. The one you’ve heard him scold Hobie and Peter B. in plenty of times. It’s not one he tends to use on you, and you bristle.

“Why did you call me here? Lyla wouldn’t open a portal for me if it was just for work.”

Miguel’s jaw is clenched.

“Well she did that without me asking. I didn’t want you here.”

His words are a blow to the stomach, and your anger grows. You jab a finger at him and glare.

“You’re not even going to apologize? You insult me days ago then want to be professional again without apologizing-“

“Why would I apologize?” His own anger is rising, “I meant what I said. You knew what this was when we started. I’m not sorry you forgot.”

A huff leaves your lips. You shake your head and take another step forward.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re annoying.”

You meet each other half way. His face is clouded with anger. You can feel your heart race in your chest from you own rage.

“I can’t believe you won’t admit that you want more between us.”

“And I can’t believe you’re testing my self control showing up here in this dress and pointing a finger at me,” he retorts. His eyes go down to your lips. You can sense what he’s about to do.

You lean in first and he devours you. The kiss is full of fire and anger. You’re both pent up and stressed. It burns and consumes you in a way you’ve been longing.

Anger fuels you and you take his hair in your hand giving it a firm tug earning a hiss from him. He picks you up and sets you on a nearby desk. The files scatter on the ground. Neither of you notice.

“You’re not going to apologize?” You hiss it between breaths.

He makes a sound at the back of his throat, “I’ve got nothing to apologize for. My intentions were always clear.”

His mouth goes for your throat. Your rebuke is lost as his hands begin to inch under your dress. The words he’s spitting out at you hurt, but his fingers soothe the sting when he explores your body.

This is a mistake. Gia is right. You should shove him off you and walk away. You’ll never get over him if you’re still sleeping with him, yet you can’t seem to do that. Your body amidst the haze of ecstasy won’t allow it.

Instead, you close your eyes and give in. You let him fuck you in his office all while telling yourself you’ll deal with the fallout in the morning. You don’t think of the consequences or how much this will hurt when the sun rises-

And it does.

It hurts like hell when you blink awake after dozing off in his chair and find him gone in the morning. He’s left for the day and a note near you is the only thing he leaves behind. You read it then throw it into the waste bin with tears running down your face.

In his messy scrawl he’s written, THIS CHANGES NOTHING.

———————————————

Gia has her arms crossed when you return to your shared apartment. She knows where you’ve been. She can see it in the bites he’s left along your neck and shoulders. The walk of shame you just took burns.

“You slept with him, huh?” Her eyes are narrowed in annoyance.

You sign and bury your head in your hands. She isn’t done with you yet. Her judgement feels thick against your skin.

“And he left again, huh? Right after he got what he wanted.”

The question makes you cry. You burst into tears feeling regret and heartbreak. Gia sighs and her gaze softens. She wraps her arms around you and holds you close.

What’s worse is that the pain of his rejection doesn’t hold a candle to the pain of missing him. It’s illogical and pathetic, but you and Gia both know this won’t be the last time you make this same mistake.

And it isn’t.

Days later, he appears at your doorstep and you welcome him into your bed again.

———————————————

Days after that encounter, you open the door to find Miguel bleeding in the hallway. He has a large gash across his side that looks painful. He stumbles inside before you can even react.

“Miguel?”

You close the door behind you as he hisses in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come, but I need a first aid kit,” he groans.

You’re grateful Gia isn’t here. You don’t think you could explain why Miguel is bleeding in his spider suit. That or why you let your ex back inside again.

Deciding to shelve your personal feelings, you hurry him over to the kitchen and set him down on a chair. There’s a first aid kit under the sink. You’ve used it plenty of times before when you come back from fighting crime.

Miguel is strong and puts on a brave face as you go about patching him up. The gash at his side is the worst one, but his knuckles are also bleeding and there’s a tiny cut on the side of his chin that looks painful too. It doesn’t look like he’ll need stitches, but it does look bad.

“What happened?” You look up at him.

“Anomaly. I took it down, but it got me on the side. I didn’t even think before coming here. I’m sorry.”

He looks away as you work. You wish you could tell what thoughts are running through his mind. Your own are consumed with the fact that he’s here.

HQ was just a click of the watch away. Lyla could have called him to the medics there and gotten him help. Why had he showed up at your place? You haven’t spoken since the night at his office.

The memory of it stings and you purse your lips.

This is probably a mistake. The second mistake you’ve made this week. Things won’t end well if you don’t develop a sense of self control, but you’re not sure you want to let go. Despite everything, there’s still a little nag of hope that’s rooted itself deep into your heart. You don’t want to give up.

“You weren’t at HQ these past few days either,” Miguel speaks up. He suppresses a wince when you finish his side. The skin there is already starting to heal over. A testament to his powers.

The bruises on his knuckles look worse than they are. It takes just a bit of treatment to get them to start healing too. Soon, the cuts are just dark bruises.

“I did my mission. I let Hobie do the report for me,” you explain.

The mission he had assigned you on had been easy. You and Hobie had taken the anomaly down without question. It was just another villain of the week. At the end, Hobie had offered to go back to HQ without you to check in with Jess and Miguel. You had fled back to your universe certain that you couldn’t face people there just yet.

A muscle on his jaw works as he tightens it, “You don’t have to avoid me. I’m sorry for what happened earlier.”

His words make you ache. You hate feeling this way. Always dancing around the truth but never able to fully face it.

The final cut he has is on his chin. You have to look at his face to tend to it. His eyes are trained on you and the depths there take your breath away.

There’s trepidation and nervousness there along with something else. It’s soft and meek like he’s trying to shield it. You think it’s a cross between longing and affection.

He does love you too. You believe it strongly. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Miguel is the kind of man who can face hordes of villains and never falter, but ask him to open up and share his feelings and he panics. He can’t even be honest with himself.

Your fingers trace the planes of his face as you apply a thin layer of ointment on the cut.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you whisper. It always seemed like he wanted you as far away from himself as possible. You had agreed to give him that even if it slowly killed you, “Why did you come here tonight? Really?”

Lyla wouldn’t have sent him to you if he hadn’t asked. For all of her teasing of him, she is mostly obedient. She would know not to send him where he doesn’t want to. The fact that he came to your door means a part of him did.

Why? Why tell you to keep your distance then show up at your home anyway? Could there also be a part of him that finds you just as impossible to be away from? Or are you clinging to him and seeing what isn’t there?

A faint trace of color has spread through his face. You blink. Without realizing it, your fingers have been stroking his chin. It’s such a habit that you never even noticed it.

An apology forms on your lips and you drop you hand before he intercepts it. He takes your hand in his and stares down at it. The muscle in his jaw works again.

“I wanted to see you. Hobie said you had been injured on your mission. I nearly came here then and there,” he admits. It’s a quiet breath into the night like he can’t believe he’s admitting it. Your heart picks up.

The injury in question had been a simple broken rib. Your powers come with accelerated healing. By the time you had noticed it, it had already started repairing itself. Hobie and Miguel both know this, yet he had been worried. A part of you dares to hope again.

And then you remember the way he had left you in his office. The note that had broken your heart. The way he took and never gave anything back. An ugly feeling twists in the pit of your stomach.

“I really don’t know why you’re doing this to me,” you breathe out.

It hurts to be led on. It hurts to be discarded. Maybe Gia is right. Maybe you should just let go. Resign from the agency and ignore the thought of him forever.

You pull your hand free and turn around. His eyes follow you as you begin to pack your first aid kit.

When he calls your name, his voice is soft and hesitant. It fills you with a yearning that aches.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, “We just can’t-“

“We can’t? Or you can’t?”

Miguel is brave but there is one fear he can never face. He’s lost so much already and is afraid of losing more. That’s why he keeps people at an arm’s reach. No one is allowed into his heart because he’s lost everyone thus far. His own daughter, or at least in another universe, had disappeared in his arms. He won’t let anyone else in.

A rational part of you knows it. You know he’s pushing you away because he’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose you to the danger of your jobs or the universe that keeps you apart-

But doesn’t he see that he’s losing you anyway? That pushing you away is slowly killing your worse than a villain ever could?

By the time you turn around to look at him, you are surprised to find him right behind you. His hands slot around your waist and he presses his forehead to yours. It’s an affectionate gesture he doesn’t do often. Perhaps the adrenaline from the fight he just came back from is still coursing through his veins and making him more vulnerable.

Your name falls out of his lips like a prayer. You barely have time to react before he’s kissing you.

This kiss is different from the one at HQ. It’s full of fear and adrenaline. He kisses you like he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to do it again. Maybe you should never let him do it again.

It’s addicting. You cling to him like he’ll disappear if you don’t. Surely he will disappear if you don’t. It feels like home when the two of you touch. You’re two halves of a whole never truly feeling satisfied if you aren’t together.

Life would be so much easier if he just admitted he loved you too. If he took a chance on you both. It would save you so much heartache.

It’s a really bad idea to do this tonight, you think. You haven’t discussed anything. You haven’t come to an agreement or settled out your feelings. The two of you are merely working on instinct.

But that doesn’t stop you from leading him to your bed. His injuries don’t stop him from sleeping with you. The darkness of the night offers some cover for what you’re doing. Some way to hide from the emotions you are trying so hard to evoke and he so hard to restrain.

It’s a long night for you both. By the time you’re done, you’re exhausted and he has to go back to his world. You don’t say anything as he turns to dress. Sleep is slowly creeping up along with the smallest whisper in your head that chides you for doing this again. Falling back into his web without measuring the consequence.

Before he leaves, he kisses your forehead. It’s a soft piece of affection he’s never done before after sex. If you weren’t so tired and sleep weren’t already dragging your eyelids shut, you would have asked him to stay.

Still, before he leaves, you swear you hear him whisper an “I love you” into your skin. You can never be truly sure of it. Perhaps it was a dream your subconscious did to ease your heartbreak, but you want to believe it’s true anyway.

It isn’t until the next morning that you wake up alone again and hate yourself for putting yourself through this once more.

———————————————

Avoiding HQ isn’t doing you any favors. There’s a mountain of work with your name on it that you haven’t done in a while. Jess has been patient thus far, but you hate to add more stress to her plate.

You’re an adult. You can do professional. Even if your ex is the leader of the agency, you know you can keep calm and work.

So days after your last encounter, you ask Lyla for a portal and set off for HQ. Gwen nods at you as you pass by and you detect a hint or worry on her face. You offer her a weak smile in turn and hurry to your desk.

Paperwork is tedious. You’ve always hated to write mission reports, but it keeps your mind occupied. You breeze through five entire files before your fingers begin to cramp.

The sun in Miguel’s universe is starting to set by the time you finally give up. The workload has eased some, but you’re stuck on one particular file. The document needs some information that Miguel has in his computer. Lyla doesn’t respond when you call her, likely helping out with another mission some other team has been sent on, so you have no choice but to go to his office.

A pit of anxiety forms in your stomach. You dread walking up the stairs to where his office is. It’s been days since you last made the mistake of letting him in, and you’re not eager to see him again. Still, you can’t just shirk your duties because you’re heartbroken.

So you make yourself a promise not to sleep with him this time and go up the stairs. You tell yourself you won’t let him back in for once. That you’ll cut him off cold turkey and be out of his hair before he can even react. Maybe if you copy the document fast, you can get out before he even has a chance to speak-

But then the sound of voices reaches your ear. You can make out Miguel’s voice and someone else’s. Peter B.? It seems the two are talking in his office.

It’s wrong of you to listen in, you know it, and you almost go back down the stairs deciding to come back tomorrow-

But then Peter B. says your name and you freeze. For a moment, you panic that maybe they know you’re here. Maybe one of them has detected you with their senses or maybe Miguel has smelled you. However, it later becomes apparent they’re just talking about you.

Curiosity burns and you hesitate. It’s wrong, an invasion of their privacy, but you can’t help yourself. If they’re discussing you without your presence, you think you’re owed some rights to hear what they’re saying.

So you inch back to the door and listen in making sure to keep yourself discrete.

Peter B. sounds serious for once. It’s uncharacteristic for him. He’s talking to Miguel and you can hear something in his voice like he’s upset.

“-ow long are you going to keep doing this? You’re both miserable.”

He’s scolding Miguel. His words sound both sympathetic and exasperated. He reminds you so much of Gia that you almost roll your eyes.

“This isn’t your business,” Miguel’s voice is a growl. You recognize the dark tone he uses. It’s a tone he’s used on you before in arguments. He uses it when you pry too close and he gets frightened.

“I’m your friend,” Peter B. argues back, “I’m just looking out for you.”

There’s the scrape of a chair like he’s flung himself into a seat. You can practically imagine them both sitting across from each other. Miguel skulking and trying to ignore him while he talks while Peter B. chastises him.

Since they’ve met, Peter B. has called himself Miguel’s friend. Miguel denies it vehemently and claims not to have friends, yet he doesn’t kick him out when he intrudes. He always seems to let him talk or lets him bring Mayday to work. It’s likely that, like your situation, Miguel does think of Peter as a friend even if he would never admit it.

“We are not friends. You should go home,” Miguel bites back.

Peter makes a sound like he’s shaking his head. You hear him sigh and the chair creaks as he shifts his weight.

“Look, I get it. I do. I was divorced once, but come on, Miguel. This isn’t healthy. You keep torturing yourself with this over and over again. When will you just admit the truth to yourself?” His voice sounds tired.

Miguel is silent. You wish he weren’t. You’d love to hear what he’s thinking.

Peter continues.

“You sleep with her, you ask Lyla to check in with her, you watch her on your screens, you send her out on the least dangerous missions, and you panic when she gets hurt. Why can’t you just admit you’re in love with her and let her in. We all deserve a chance to be happy, right?”

You manage to bite back the gasp that rises up your throat.

There. Peter has said it out loud. The one thing you’ve never said out loud or Miguel.

There’s a very tense silence that follows. Miguel refuses to budge. You can practically imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he’s upset.

Frustration fills you. You wish he’d say something. Anything. Finally admit the truth to someone even if it isn’t to you. Or at least admit the truth to himself.

You know he loves you. Everyone around you knows too. Jess, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, Peter, Ben…Everyone knows. It’s just getting him to say it out loud and do something about it that’s the hard part.

A hand slams on something. You almost jump. It seems Miguel has taken his frustration out on a monitor. You can hear the static chirping as the screen splits in half.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he hisses it out at Peter, “She’s just a colleague.”

Peter doesn’t give up. You hear his chair scrape as he stands.

“You don’t do everything you’re doing for a colleague. Look, I lost Mary Jane too once. She left me and I was miserable. I would have never have found happiness again or gotten Mayday if I hadn’t just let go of my fear. Someone once told me it’s all just a leap of faith.”

A leap of faith. You think you like that expression.

Miguel doesn’t.

“I’m not afraid and our situations aren’t comparable. Your wife was from your universe. You belonged to the same world. She didn’t have powers that made her risk her life daily. She wasn’t always in danger. You know our line of work. You know why I can’t.”

You hear him begin to pace. He’s going for his stage system. If he ascends up, he’ll brood forever and Peter’s efforts will be for naught. You hope he manages to stop him before that happens.

He does. You can hear when Peter clicks off the elevator’s button and when Miguel growls out a warning for him to quit.

“You are afraid, and that’s okay. You just can’t let fear destroy you. I was afraid to have Mayday and look at me! I love being a dad. You should let her in. Let yourself be happy. You’ve already lost enough.”

You think to Miguel’s daughter. The way he had broken when he had lost her. You think of his canon events and the people he’s watched die. It makes sense that he’s so terrified about letting you in. You get it.

However, Peter is right. Fear shouldn’t control him. You’re afraid too about loving someone in your line of work, but you’ve decided to be brave. In a world where you could die any moment, isn’t it better to die having have experienced a great love? Doesn’t the reward outweigh the pain?

Miguel mutters a string of Spanish. He’s irritated and beginning to shut down. Any moment now he’ll close himself up. You just hope Peter’s words were enough to get him to think.

Your hopes, however, are shattered when he next speaks.

“I’ll end things with her then. Happy? Set her free. She doesn’t deserve being strung along-“

“Miguel, that’s not what-“

Peter’s words are cut off as the elevator is turned back on. Your eyes burn with tears and anger floods you.

Stupid, stupid man. Too stubborn and cowardly for his own good.

“Don’t do this, Miguel, come on!” Peter practically begs him as the elevator begins to make its ascent up, “It’s not just you you’re hurting.”

“I’m going to end things once and for all. You’re right. This isn’t fair.”

Miguel’s words are final and the elevator clangs as he reaches the top. Moments later, you hear Peter drop into his chair out of frustration. That’s your key to leave.

You storm off HQ and call on Lyla. This time she answers. Whatever playful retort was on her tongue earlier dies away when she sees your tears.

You don’t give her a chance to ask what’s wrong. Instead, you demand a portal back to your world.

Emerging back into your apartment, you storm over to your cellphone. Gia was right, you think, you do need to get him out of your system. So you scroll until you find the text from Tyler all those nights ago at the bar and you send him a message inviting him over.

If Miguel wants to call things off, then you’re way ahead of him.

———————————————

Tyler is a great guy. He shows up at your apartment with some take out and doesn’t pry when he sees your poor attempt at concealing your pain. He’s entirely platonic and friendly when you invite him in.

He knows this isn’t anything more than a distraction. You two are break up buddies. There’s no romance or lust between either of you, so there’s no nervousness or tension when you sit down to eat.

Gia has left for the night pleased that you’ve finally taken her advice. You don’t have the strength in you to clarify that it isn’t like that and she doesn’t have to leave your apartment to give you privacy.

“Hope you like Chinese,” Tyler holds up some takeout boxes.

“Love it,” you reply. You try to sound upbeat and positive, but it falls flat. Tyler gives you a look of concern but doesn’t comment. He’s willing to give you space.

The two of you plop down on the couch and you let him choose a channel. He opts for a shitty B film with monsters. The acting is so poor that you find yourself snorting.

Tyler makes you laugh too. He makes it a game to spot plot holes and inconsistencies. The one who finds the most will get to pick dessert.

He’s good company. When you find yourself starting to think too long on what happened, he makes a joke to get your attention back. Perhaps if you hadn’t fallen in love with Miguel, maybe the two of you could have been something. In another universe, maybe you do end up with Tyler.

Still, in this universe, your heart is still broken.

At some point, you win and you decide on a key lime pie in the fridge. Tyler brings out some wine and you settle down into the kitchen table.

“I didn’t want to pry, but are you feeling better?” He looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“Better than this afternoon,” you admit. It’s not completely a lie.

You needed this. Being able to spend time with a friend is a good distraction. Tyler is a good guy. He doesn’t pry anymore after that question.

Instead, the two of you talk about anything and everything. You feel at ease. He makes you laugh and smile quite a few times. By the time midnight comes around, you’re surprised that you lost track of time.

He stands up and decides to call a ride-share. You tell him not too. It’s too dangerous for him to be out at night. You offer him your bed and insist when he protests. You’ll take Gia’s bed. She always takes yours when she has family over at your apartment. You know she won’t have a problem if you take hers for a night.

The two of you go to bed in your own rooms. You find your thoughts drifting towards Miguel, but you shut them down. You really don’t want to think of him now. Not when he’s decided that he’s going to end things once and for all.

At some point you drift off to sleep. You don’t wake up until the next morning when someone knocks on your door.

Your room door is still shut, Tyler is sleeping in. You don’t even think before opening the door convinced that it’s Gia coming back. However, the person standing in the hallway makes you freeze.

It’s Miguel, not Gia, who stands there. He’s wearing civilian clothing and looks miserable. There’s exhaustion on every plane if his face like he hasn’t slept a wink thinking. You hesitate.

“Miguel?”

He hangs back taking you in. You must look like a mess in your pajamas. If you weren’t still half asleep, maybe you’d be embarrassed.

“Can I come in?” He calls your name softly and adds a ‘please’ when you don’t move an inch for the longest time.

You glance at your room door hoping Tyler is still asleep when you let him in.

The last time Miguel was here, you two slept together. It feels maddening to have him so close again.

“What do you need? Lyla didn’t call me.”

You try to keep your voice even, steady. It’s an attempt to hide the turmoil inside you. Miguel hesitates when he sees the two wine glasses on the table. You had left them out yesterday. Still, he opts not to ask about it.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Miguel admits, “I haven’t been fair.”

You remember his conversation with Peter. Is he here to end things once and for all? You wrap you arms around yourself to keep you steady.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel murmurs, “For everything. You didn’t deserve it. I took advantage.”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do,” you shake your head, “It’s not taking advantage if you were honest from the beginning. I just got my hopes up.”

The words feel bitter in your tongue. You look down at the floor.

“But I wasn’t honest,” Miguel admits. It’s a quiet whisper that makes you look up. He looks like he’s struggling. He’s never been good at vocalizing his feelings or talking things out. This is a major effort for him, “I lied. I wasn’t being honest.”

He takes a step towards you and you stare blankly at him. You don’t want to get your hopes up.

He calls your name again. A plea.

“I wasn’t honest when I told you I didn’t want anything between us. I was being a coward. Peter B. poked his nose where he didn’t belong and talked some sense into me. Jess chewed me out too last night. They both made me realize how terrible I’ve been.”

So Jess had talked to him too. It was probably after you had left. Having been on the receiving end of her scolding before, you can imagine it was a harsh awakening for him. It must have been if he’s deviated from his initial plan with Peter.

You wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts. This is a huge effort for him, and you know it doesn’t come easy. Some hope rises in your chest.

“The truth is, I’ve been lying to the both of us for a long time. I-it isn’t just sex, alright? It was never just sex.”

He takes a step closer. You watch him closely. His eyes are open to you now. You can see the emotions there. The affection, the heartbreak, the yearning, the fear, the love. It makes your breath hitch.

“Miguel-“

He cuts you off gently. His hand goes for your cheek. He hesitates just briefly, his fear wanting him to bolt, but he fights it back. When his skin touches yours, a little spark has you both feeling dizzy.

“The truth is, I do want more. I’ve wanted more since you walked into HQ to begin with. I kept pushing you away because I was scared. I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me, I wouldn’t blame you if you told me to leave, but I want you to know the truth. I don’t want you to think it was something you did or that you were never good enough.”

Silence reigns between you both. Emotion chokes your words. He leans in briefly.

“I want this,” he breathes out, “You terrify me, this scares me, and I hate feeling this sense of panic, but I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t like seeing you cry or pushing you away.”

“I-“

The words die in your throat. You think about how you want to tell him that you love him, that you want this with him too, and that you’ve been waiting for this moment. This dream of yours has finally come true and you feel like you can finally breathe again. You want to pour everything you feel into your words so that he can understand everything you’ve gone through. You just don’t know how.

To his credit, he waits patiently. His eyes are warm when he looks at you. It’s the type of look he’s only given you before when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Your heart races in your chest.

Just when you think you’ve found the right words to respond-

The door opens behind you. A half asleep Tyler stumbles out still unaware of his surroundings.

The world stops.

You see the moment Miguel turns his head and spots him. He realizes he’s coming out of your room. Slowly, you see everything start to fall apart.

You want to beg him to listen, explain to him that it isn’t like this, and tell him that nothing happened. Yet he’s already moving away from you. His eyes cycle between betrayal, jealousy, heartbreak, and fury before he closes himself off. He takes a step back and an entire chasm opens up between the two of you. Whatever progres you two had just made is now gone.

Tyler blanches when he spots Miguel. You see the wheels churn in his head and he realizes what happened. What he’s just done unintentionally. The last of the sleep disappears from his system and is replaced by shock.

“Oh god, sorry,” Tyler blanks.

For a moment, you think you see Miguel tense. He’s like a coil waiting to spring. You suspect he’s getting ready to launch himself at Tyler. You take a step between them to try and stop him and try to explain-

It’s too late. Miguel reins in his self control and doesn’t strike. Instead, he straightens himself out and turns away.

“I didn’t realize you had company,” his voice is a deadpan growl much more terrifying than anything you’ve ever heard before. You move before you can think. Your hand snags his sleeve to try and explain what just happened-

He firmly tugs himself free of your grasp. His voice is cold, detached, and guarded when he answers back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you two get back to it. This was a mistake I won’t make again.”

He storms out of your apartment with his entire body practically seething with anger. You try and follow only to see him disappear in the middle of the hallway. Lyla closes the portal before you can follow.

Tyler is incredibly apologetic when he leaves. He feels terrible he’s ruined things for you. You half heartedly tell him it’s not his fault. It’s all yours, really.

By the time he’s gone, you feel like someone has taken your heart and crushed it in the palm of their hand. You crawl back into Gia’s bed and sob until your head begins to pound. Everything feels ruined.

———————————————

Gia finds you there sometime in the morning. She smiles and opens her mouth to tease you about your date when she catches sight of your face. Immediately she pales and rushes forward.

“What’s wrong? Did Tyler hurt you?” Her hands come around you and she holds you tightly.

You shake your head.

“Then what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she fusses over your tears. Her eyes are wide with surprise. You reckon you’re giving her a terrible fright.

In between sobs, the story pours out of you.

You tell her everything. How Miguel had come to tell you that he wanted a romantic relationship between you, how you had been about to tell him that you loved him too, and how Tyler had given him the wrong idea.

You’re practically shaking by the time you’re done. Gia presses her lips together and holds you closer.

Your heart has never broken quite like this before. It’s in millions of tiny pieces. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to pick them back up. Not with what happened.

Gia holds you until you’re done crying. She’s pensive as she stares out the window. Finally, she sighs.

“Call him.”

It’s such a deviation from her old advice that you blink at her. It pains her to say it out loud. She looks like she bit into a lemon when she does, but she powers through.

“Look, this guy got the wrong idea, right? Go see him and explain things. Don’t let him get away. It sounds like he genuinely cares for you.”

You wipe away at a tear on your cheek and glance at her.

“You hate him,” you mumble. Gia helps you clean up your face. Her hands are gentle.

“I hated him because I thought he was just a booty call leading you on. It sounds like he does love you back. You shouldn’t let him go after a misunderstanding, right? At least explain what happened to him and go from there,” she bites her cheek, “If you’ve been fighting for him all this time, what’s one more battle? Give it one last try.”

Her advice seems so simple. You sniff until some of your tears finally dry. Your head is pounding but it’s nothing compared to the agony that is in your chest.

Gia helps you dress and gives you breakfast. She wishes you well. When this is all over, whether it ends in tragedy or success, you’ll have to thank her. She’s put up with so much on your behalf.

You tell her you’re going to his apartment. Trepidation fills you as you round a corner. You call up Lyla on your watch.

When she greets you, her face is downtrodden. You miss her cheery and teasing personality.

“It’s not a good idea for you to head over there right now,” Lyla hesitates, “He’s in a mood. He’s been smashing things and throwing stuff in his office all morning.”

You wince wracked with guilt. You hurt him. Sure he probably deserved it after how badly he’s hurt you, but you still never meant to do that to him.

“Lyla, please let me in,” you beg.

Lyla looks away.

“He told me he didn’t want you anywhere near HQ for a few weeks. You’ve been put on leave.”

Panic grips you. You need to speak with him. You hold the watch up and beg.

“Lyla, please. Please let me make things right. He’s got the wrong idea.”

It takes some more begging. Lyla looks torn. She doesn’t want to anger Miguel further after this morning, but she also doesn’t want him to hurt himself on a misunderstanding. Finally, she wilts and opens a portal. You jump in before you have a chance to second guess yourself.

———————————————

Lyla had understated the sight of Miguel’s office. It’s a complete war zone. His monitors are smashed on the ground, his desk is half way across the room, and there’s broken glass everywhere. He’s destroyed everything in his wake. You wince as you step over broken wood and metal.

Jess has opened the door for you. She tells you to leave immediately if things get messy. Miguel really doesn’t want to see you right now. Lyla will be on standby ready to send you home or anywhere else if you ask her to.

You wave them both away as you search for Miguel. His elevator is on the ground which means he has to be somewhere on this floor.

After a while, you find him. He’s staring out the window and his entire back is rigid. He senses you before you have a chance to speak.

“Get out.”

It’s a harsh bark of an order that makes you wince. You stay rooted to the spot.

“Miguel-“

“Lyla, get her out.”

He taps on his watch and Lyla appears. She looks between the two of you before shaking her head.

“No can do. Jess has me working a different mission. Sorry, Miggy. Guess you’ll have to talk things out like adults.”

She winks out before Miguel can press her again. You hear the sound of anger he makes as she disappears. He still doesn’t turn around to look at you.

“I came to speak to you,” you hear yourself say. You’re surprised your voice sounds so calm. You certainly don’t feel okay. Your ears are roaring and your heart is going a million miles a minute.

“I don’t want to hear it. See yourself out.”

This time he does turn. His face is completely devoid of expression and he moves away from you.

You spin around to follow.

“What you saw isn’t what it looks like. Tyler and I are just friends.”

Miguel huffs something that sounds like a laugh. It sends shivers down your spine. He says Tyler’s name under his breath like a curse.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waves you away, “You and I are just coworkers. Nothing more.”

His words ache but you don’t let them land. You know the truth. He’s told you it just a few hours ago.

“Miguel, stop,” you come up behind him. He’s completely tense when you grab his hand to stop him.

“Enough,” he says your name with a warning, “Go home. There’s nothing more to say.”

You don’t budge. There’s a terrible voice inside your head that tells you that letting him go now would be a mistake. That if you don’t clarify things, you’ll lose him forever.

You try again.

“Nothing happened between us. I only care about you. Please look at me,” you plea. You try to sidestep him to put yourself in his direct field of vision.

He turns around.

“It wouldn’t matter if it had, you owe me no loyalty. We were never together,” he argues back. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that. Perhaps he’s been turning those words over in his head all morning.

You won’t let him leave. He needs to know the truth. If he decides afterwords that he still doesn’t want you, fine. You’ll give up and resign from the agency. You’ll go back to your old life and force yourself to let him go, but he needs to know the truth at the very least.

“Nothing happened at all. We slept in separate beds. There is no one else but you,” you move forward, “I was going to tell you then that I do want you. That I’ve always wanted you.”

He still won’t look at you. You manage to stand in front of him and force him to see you. You want him to look and see the sincerity in your gaze. The love you hold for him burns bright when you meet his eyes.

Some of the tension from his body leaves. He sees that you mean every word. That if Tyler hadn’t interrupted, you would have told him you loved him then and there.

But he’s still afraid. He’s warring with himself over what to do. His instincts tell him to push you aside like he’s been doing. To save himself further pain by cutting you off once and for all. Another part of him is crying out for him not to. The part of himself he had bared for you this morning wants him to give in. To hear you out and be honest with himself.

You hope that other part of himself wins. You need that part of himself to win.

“Please believe me,” you whisper, “It’s only ever been you.”

His eyes close as your hands trace his face. You have to stand up on your tippy toes to reach him.

After a long pause, he sighs.

“Do you know how much it killed me to see him? To imagine him touching you? I almost killed him. The worst part was that I knew it was all my fault. That you owed me nothing and it wouldn’t have mattered if you had decided to move on because I pushed you away.”

“Do you know how much it killed me to be pushed away?” You murmur. It’s not a rebuke or retort. There’s no poison or malice behind your words, you just want him to understand that you’ve both been hurting.

He winces anyway. His eyes trace every inch of your face as if looking for something. You aren’t sure what he’s searching for, but you do know there’s more you haven’t said.

“I want to be with you. I’ve been fighting for you since the beginning. If you don’t want me, then tell me. Tell me once and for all, so that I can move on because I’ve been suffocating these past few days,” you slowly withdraw from him to give him space, “I love you, Miguel. But I can’t keep doing this. You’re breaking me.”

Silence descends in the room. Your heart beats wildly in your chest.

There. The ball is in his court now. He can either accept or reject you. Either way, this game between you will be over.

He’s quiet for so long that you suspect he’s made his choice. You try not to show how heartbroken you are when you take a step back. You’re about to apologize for wasting his time when he surges forward.

You don’t have time to react before he’s picking you up. His mouth crashes against yours and his kiss steals your breath away. He pours everything in it. His heartbreak, his longing, his love of you. It’s so powerful that you feel your self start to melt. You respond in kind kissing him back just as fiercely.

He holds you to him as if afraid that you’ll disappear if he lets you go. You two meet again and again. In between breaths, he pants your name. It isn’t until both of your mouths are bruised that you manage to come up for air.

He leans into you almost immediately after, kissing your throat and murmuring against your skin.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you since the beginning. I’m sorry,” he kisses your mouth gently in another apology, “I don’t deserve this.”

You cut him off before his thoughts can spiral again.

“I love you,” you repeat. His eyes close like he can barely believe it so you say it again. When he opens his eyes, you see the love for you in them. You’ve always known he loved you. Now, you finally have a confirmation.

“I love you too,” he responds. It takes your breath away. You’ve been waiting for a really long time to hear those words.

The next time you kiss, it’s less frenzied. This time, you both know you have time to pace things out. You’ll have all the time you need from now on. You’re both done pushing each other away and breaking your hearts.

His heart is racing against you and you feel your own beat against your ribcage. Still, you press forward. Declarations of love spill forth between heated kisses and nips. You’re drowning in each other.

For the first time in ages, things slowly start to fall into place. The darkness looming over you is gone replaced by a beautiful sunlight. You feel yourself smile into the kiss and he kisses you more softly as a result.

The two of you will have to talk at length more in the future. You’ll have to discuss what you being in an official relationship will mean in terms of your jobs and your different universes, but that’s all a problem for tomorrow. For now, you’re both content to be with each other and to celebrate the fact that you are now together.

The road ahead will not be easy. Nothing in life ever is. Yet you know you can both weather it if you fight for each other the way you’ve been fighting each other. There’s nothing the two of you can’t survive if you work hard.

Together.

[brunchable]

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | Stucky x f!reader.

Part Two | Four Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.8K Themes: Forbidden/Off-Limits Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Steve and Sam discuss Steve’s lingering thoughts about the mysterious woman he danced with at a party, while Bucky continues his therapy sessions with Y/N. Y/N ends her engagement with Ethan, leading to a tense confrontation with her father, Thaddeus Ross, who pressures her to maintain the arrangement for political reasons. Y/N’s growing connection with Bucky becomes more apparent, but her father's expectations weigh heavily on her, leaving her conflicted about her future. A/N: Steve's song can be One Kiss by Dua lipa lmao.

taggies: @astrelz @pattiemac1

Steve and Sam had just finished their usual morning run, both catching their breath as they walked toward a bench, sandwich in hand, their usual routine after.

Steve’s hair was still damp with sweat, and Sam wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as they found a park bench. The park bustled with early morning energy—people in suits rushing, joggers taking a break, and the steady hum of traffic in the distance.

"You know, you’re getting slower, Cap," Sam teased, flashing Steve a grin as they sat down.

Steve smirked, settling on the bench. "I thought I’d take it easy on you."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. Three days ago, you were out there dancing like you had moves I’d never seen before, and now you’re holding back on a run?"

Steve sighed, "You’re not gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope. You’ve been quiet since that night. A little too quiet, if you ask me."

Steve avoided Sam’s gaze, watching the pigeons on loitering around. "It was just... a one time thing."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Just a one time thing? Come on, man, I saw you two. There was something going on out there, and it wasn’t just the music."

"I don’t even know who she is." Steve finally looked up, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

"Doesn’t matter," Sam replied, shrugging as he took a big bite. "You don’t need to know her to know that something clicked. That’s why you’ve been all broody these past few days."

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking out at the city as it buzzed with life around them. The memory of her—of the girl he’d danced with—had stayed with him, playing in his mind over and over. Her smile, the way she moved, the way it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared for those few moments.

"I don’t even know her name, Sam," Steve finally admitted.

"So what?" Sam shrugged. "You’ve got instincts, right? If it felt right, you should do something about it."

Steve glanced over at him. "And do what? Ask around for the girl I danced with at a party I didn’t even want to go to?"

Sam grinned. "It worked for Cinderella."

Steve rolled his eyes, but Sam didn’t let up. 

"All I’m saying is, you don’t get moments like that every day. Whatever happened on that dance floor, it’s been on your mind for three days. That means something."

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, a cyclist zoomed past them, so close that their Sam almost dropped his sandwich. Both Steve and Sam jerked back in surprise.

"Whoa!" Sam shouted after the cyclist. "Watch where you’re going!"

"This city..." Steve shook his head, laughing softly. 

"You know, you could’ve used that super-soldier strength to tackle the guy." Sam pointed.

Steve gave him a deadpan look. "Yeah, that would’ve gone over real well. Captain America assaults cyclist—makes headlines."

Sam laughed, but the seriousness returned to his voice a moment later. "Look, man, I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you deserve to live a little. If that girl gave you even a glimpse of something good... you should try to find her."

Steve stared into the distance, the thought hanging in the air. Could he really track her down? Did he even want to?

"Trust me," Sam added, "might be worth a shot."

Steve sat in silence for a moment, thinking it over. Sam’s words weighed on him, the idea of taking a chance—of finding her again—slowly growing in his mind.

Before Steve could say anything, a group of women walked past their bench. One of them glanced back, her eyes widening as she recognized him. She stopped in her tracks, tugging on her friend’s arm.

"Oh my God, aren’t you... Captain America?"

Steve sighed inwardly, but a polite smile spread across his face. "Not anymore," he said smoothly, pointing to Sam, "he is."

The women turned their wide-eyed stares to Sam, and for a moment, there was stunned silence. Sam blinked, his expression somewhere between amused and baffled.

"Oh... um..." one of the women stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Sam shot Steve a playful glare, then broke into a broad grin. "That’s right," he said, leaning back in the bench with exaggerated confidence. "I’m the new and improved model."

The women giggled, their surprise quickly turning into admiration. "Can we get a picture with both of you?" one of them asked.

Sam didn’t miss a beat. "Only if you tag me as the real Captain America."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, let’s get this over with."

The women quickly snapped a picture, and after thanking them with enthusiasm, they moved on, still buzzing with excitement. As they walked away, Sam shot Steve a mischievous grin.

"You know, I really should start charging for these appearances," Sam said.

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled. "Maybe you should."

As Steve sat back down, Sam shook his head, laughing. "Man, even when you’re trying to lay low, you can’t avoid the spotlight."

Steve gave him a half-smile, but his mind was elsewhere. He stared out at the busy street, Sam’s words echoing in his head.

"Maybe you’re right," Steve said quietly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About finding her," Steve said, his voice firming up, “I mean. . . my life has been feeling a bit dull.”

Sam grinned, slapping Steve on the shoulder. "Now that’s what I like to hear."

Steve shifted on the bench, a new determination building inside him. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but Sam was right. 

× × × ×

Back at the mansion, Y/N barely had time to settle in when her father stormed into the room. Thaddeus was not a man easily angered, but when he was, the entire house felt the weight of it. Today was one of those days. His presence loomed large as he stood rigid in the doorway, his eyes cold and piercing.

“I just got word that you ended your engagement,” Thaddeus’s voice was sharp, each word cutting through the air. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he took a step forward. “Without even telling me.”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she stood her ground, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “I didn’t need your permission, Dad. It was my decision.”

Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening. “Your decision?” His voice rose in fury as he closed the distance between them, looming over her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This wasn’t just some personal arrangement, Y/N. This was a political move—a way to solidify alliances. And now, you’ve destroyed it.”

Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him, but she refused to let his anger rattle her. “There was no love between us, and you know it,” she snapped back, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. “I wasn’t going to marry someone just because it suited your politics.”

Thaddeus’s expression darkened, his jaw clenched. “This isn’t about love. This is about duty. This is about the family, about what we stand for! You’ve always been reckless, thinking you can make decisions like this without understanding the consequences.”

“Oh my gosh! Duty? So are we some part of the royal family?,” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but resolute. “I couldn’t live a lie anymore.”

Thaddeus’s laugh was bitter, “You’ve never had to live the life I’ve lived, Y/N. You’ve always had everything handed to you, protected from the real world, from real responsibility. Well, guess what? Life isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you have to do. It’s about playing your part.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words sinking in, but she wouldn’t back down. She’d made her choice, and for the first time, she’d done it for herself.

“You better take it back,” Thaddeus ordered, his voice low and menacing. “Call him. Fix this. The engagement is not over.”

Y/N blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity of his demand. “Take it back?” She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You want me to go back to Ethan? To a man who’s still in love with his ex? That’s what you want?”

Thaddeus didn’t flinch. “It’s what’s necessary.”

“Necessary for you,” Y/N said, her voice rising as the frustration bubbled over. “You’re already president! What more do you need? This is my life, Dad. Not another political maneuver you can use to your advantage.”

Thaddeus’s gaze sharpened, his lips thinning into a hard line. “You don’t understand how the world works. You’re my daughter. Everything you do reflects on this family, on me. You think you can run around making decisions on a whim? That’s not how this works.”

“I won’t go back to him,” Y/N said firmly, her voice steady with defiance.

Thaddeus stepped closer, his voice low but dripping with cold authority. “You don’t have a choice. In a month’s time, I’ll be introducing you to the world. The daughter of President Thaddeus Ross. You will stand by my side and play your part, whether you like it or not. You’re not just my daughter. You are an extension of everything I’ve built.”

Y/N felt the suffocating weight of his words settling over her, like a blanket she couldn’t shake off. She had always known that being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter came with expectations, but now, more than ever, she felt like she was nothing more than a pawn in his grand political game.

“I won’t be part of your plans,” she said, her voice quieter but laced with firm defiance.

Thaddeus’s eyes bore into hers, his face hardening into a cold, unreadable mask. “You already are,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her hands trembling as the enormity of his expectations pressed down on her shoulders. The life she wanted, the freedom she craved—it all seemed further away than ever.

× × × ×

Y/N sank onto the couch, her mind racing. Ending things with Ethan had felt like the right decision, but her father’s reaction made her question everything. Could she ever escape this life? Could she ever truly be free from her father’s control?

Her gaze drifted around the room, settling on a framed photograph sitting on the mantle—one of the few pictures she had of her mother. It was old, faded at the edges, a reminder of a woman she never got the chance to know. After her parents had separated when she was just a baby, her mother had disappeared from her life completely. All Y/N had were secondhand stories and a face in a photograph.

Her father never talked about her mother, and Y/N had stopped asking questions long ago. But sometimes, like now, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life might have been like if she’d had her mother around—someone who could have balanced her father’s rigid expectations, someone who could have shown her what it meant to live freely.

But that life had never been an option. Her mother was gone, and her father was all she had. As much as she tried to carve out her own path, the weight of being Thaddeus Ross’s daughter was always there, pulling her back in.

Her thoughts drifted away from the heaviness of her family and back to her recent encounters with Bucky. There was something about him, something different from everything else in her life. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He just... was. And that simplicity, that calmness—it was starting to mean more to her than she had anticipated.

Her thoughts shifted to Ethan when she noticed a missed call from him. She stared at her phone for a long moment. They hadn’t spoken since she called off the engagement, and part of her wanted to ignore him. She had made her choice—there was nothing more to say. But curiosity tugged at her. What could he possibly want now?

With a resigned sigh, Y/N tapped on his number and brought the phone to her ear. It rang twice before Ethan picked up, his voice cool and calculated, as always.

“Y/N.”

“Ethan,” she replied, her tone cautious. “I saw your missed call. What do you want?”

There was a brief pause before Ethan spoke again, his voice more measured than before. “I’ve been thinking about everything that happened. About the engagement.”

Y/N’s defenses went up instantly. “There’s nothing more to talk about. I ended it.”

“I know, and I’m not calling to argue that,” Ethan said, his voice calm. “I get why you did it. I’ve been thinking about what you said. Maybe you were right, but that doesn’t change what’s happening around us.”

“What are you getting at, Ethan?” Y/N pressed, her voice sharp. “Why are you calling me?”

“Look, this isn’t easy for me to explain over the phone,” Ethan replied, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “But we’re in a complicated situation right now, both of us. And it’s not just about us—it’s about our families and that event your dad wants to hold.”

Y/N sighed, already feeling exhausted by the conversation. “I know all of that. But I’m not going back to the way things were, Ethan. I’m done.”

“I’m not asking you to go back to that,” Ethan said quickly, his voice becoming more urgent. “Just... hear me out. I have a plan, a way for us to manage this without blowing everything up.”

Y/N frowned. “What kind of plan?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Ethan replied, his voice vague and careful, almost too careful. “But I’ve been thinking. There’s a way to do this... to make sure we both come out of this in one piece. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Y/N’s stomach churned. “Trust you? Ethan, I ended things because I didn’t want to keep pretending. You want me to trust you with something you won’t even explain?”

“I know it sounds like I’m asking for a lot,” Ethan admitted, his voice softening slightly. “But trust me when I say I’m looking out for both of us here. I’m not going to let this get messy—for you or for me.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, frustrated by his vagueness. “You can’t expect me to just go along with this without knowing what you’re planning.”

Ethan sighed heavily. “I get it. I do. But right now, I can’t give you all the details. It’s just... complicated, I’m arranging plenty of things okay? And I need you to trust me on this. You don’t want to deal with the fallout if we handle this the wrong way.”

Y/N bit her lip, her mind racing. The idea of trusting Ethan after everything felt absurd, but something about the way he was speaking, the way he kept insisting, made her pause. She hated the thought of going along with anything Ethan was plotting, but part of her wondered if he was right—if handling things the wrong way could make everything worse.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Y/N asked, her voice low, testing the waters.

“For now, just... we act like we did before,” Ethan replied, sounding almost relieved that she hadn’t hung up. “Just let things settle. Your dad becoming President is a huge deal.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. “I’m not going to pretend forever, Ethan.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “But this is bigger than us right now. Just... trust me. I promise you, it won’t be like this for long. I want out as much as you do.”

Y/N sat in silence, conflicted. She didn’t trust Ethan—not completely—but the idea of making things messier, of causing a scandal in the middle of her father’s presidency, made her stomach churn. She didn’t know if she had it in her to make things worse for everyone involved.

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N finally said, her voice hesitant but tired.

“Sure, think about it, but don’t dwell on it too long.”

Y/N ended the call and placed her phone down on the coffee table, staring at it for a moment. She had always thought that ending the engagement would free her, but even now, it felt like she was still trapped, still playing a role in a life she didn’t want.

Her mind drifted to Bucky, to the quiet ease of their encounters. There were no plans, no demands, no complicated webs of politics and expectations with him. He was just... Bucky. And right now, more than anything, that simplicity was what she needed.

× × × ×

Session 2

Bucky sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his body tense. The room was quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall, and the distant murmur of voices outside the door. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the notebook in Y/N’s hands. She was back in her professional attire—hair neatly pulled back, glasses perched on her nose, and her demeanor all business.

Therapist mode.

It felt strange to Bucky now. Over the past few days, he’d run into her outside the office—at the market, at the coffee shop—and each time, she had been different. Relaxed. Playful, even. It was hard to take her seriously now, after seeing her “real” character, the carefree woman who laughed easily and joked around. This version of her felt stiff, too controlled.

“So,” Y/N began, her voice calm and measured, as she glanced up from her notes, “let’s talk about the list.”

Bucky frowned. “The list?”

“Your amends list,” she clarified, looking him directly in the eye. “The one you’ve been working on.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking to the window. “Right. That.”

Y/N remained unfazed, her gaze steady as she waited for him to continue. “You’ve made some progress,” she said, glancing at the file on her lap. “But there are still names on that list, aren’t there?”

Bucky hesitated, then shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, there are names.”

Y/N nodded, her expression neutral. “How does it feel, working through it?”

Bucky sighed, glancing back at her. “Honestly? It feels like a damn chore,” he muttered, not hiding his frustration. “I’m sorry, but I’m finding it hard to take this seriously.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “Why is that?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, it’s a little tough taking therapy advice from someone who I’ve seen spill her coffee and laugh about it, or humming ‘80s pop hits while picking out apples at the grocery store.” He shrugged, the smirk widening slightly. “It’s like... therapist by day, party animal by night. Hard to keep a straight face after that.”

Y/N stared at him, her expression completely unchanged, the silence in the room growing heavier by the second.

Bucky’s smirk faltered slightly as the silence in the room dragged on. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like he was under a spotlight. 

“Tough crowd,” he muttered, letting out a short laugh.

Y/N didn’t budge. She kept her gaze on him, unblinking, before calmly responding, “It’s not about me, Sergeant. It’s about you and the work you’re doing here.”

Bucky’s smirk faltered. He hadn’t expected her to call him out so bluntly. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”

Y/N continued, her voice steady but a little softer. “I get that it might feel strange after seeing me in a different context. But here, this is the space where we work through things. You can joke, but the process still matters.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to this version of Y/N. Outside, she had been easygoing, someone he could joke with. But here? She wasn’t giving him any leeway.

He sighed, his hands resting on his lap. “Yeah, well... it’s not just that. The whole list... It feels pointless sometimes. What’s the point of making amends when none of them will ever forgive me?”

Y/N’s expression softened, though her gaze remained steady. “It’s not about them forgiving you, Sergeant. It’s about you finding a way to forgive yourself.”

Those words hit a little too close to home, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Easier said than done.”

Y/N leaned back slightly, giving him some space. “Of course it is. But you’ve already started. You’ve been facing those demons. You’re not running anymore.”

Bucky met her eyes, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease. 

Y/N flipped to another page in her notes. “You said you’ve crossed a few names off the list. Tell me about them.”

Bucky hesitated. He wasn’t used to opening up like this, but something about Y/N—therapist mode or not—made it a little easier to talk. “There’s this one... Yori. His son... I killed him. Not on purpose, but... it happened. I still haven’t told him the truth.”

Y/N stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.

“I’ve been spending time with him,” Bucky went on, his voice quieter now. “He doesn’t know why I’m there, though. He just thinks we’re friends. And I—” He stopped, his throat tightening again. “I can’t bring myself to tell him. How do you do that? How do you tell someone that you’re the reason their son is dead?”

Y/N’s gaze softened, but she didn’t offer easy answers. “You don’t have to rush that conversation,” she said gently. “You’re allowed to take the time you need. But when the moment comes, you’ll know. And it’ll be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But it might also be the first real step toward healing.”

Bucky clenched his fists in his lap, the weight of her words settling over him. Healing. It felt impossible sometimes.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Y/N scribbled something in her notebook, then glanced up at him again. “You’ve done more than you realize. You’re facing these things head-on, even when they terrify you. And that... that takes courage.”

Bucky scoffed softly. “Courage, huh?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Yes, courage. You’re here, aren’t you?”

Bucky met her eyes for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt... different. Like she understood him more than most people ever could.

“Yeah,” Bucky said quietly, glancing down at his hands. “I’m here.”

And for now, that was enough.

× × × ×

After Bucky's session, Y/N sat at her desk, absently scrolling through her emails. A new message popped up, and her heart sank when she saw the subject line: Event Details – Ross Family Introduction.

She hesitated for a moment before clicking on it, her stomach churning as she read through the formal invitation. In a month’s time, her father was planning to host a grand event where he would officially introduce her to the public—his secret family, finally revealed. It wasn’t just a casual introduction; it was a spectacle, one that would change her life forever.

The ornate wording of the invitation made her feel even more trapped. There was no escape from this. Her father expected her to be perfect, to play the role of the ideal daughter, to smile and wave and uphold the pristine image of the Ross family. 

Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention from the email. It was a text from her father: We’ll go over everything soon. Be prepared.

Y/N stared at the message, the weight of it all hitting her again. She was being groomed for a life she didn’t want, expected to conform to an image she didn’t recognize. 

She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples, her mind drifting away from the impending event. Her thoughts wandered back to earlier that day, to her session with Bucky. She had kept her cool, remained professional, but one thing from that session stood out more than the rest: the moment Bucky had called her a party animal.

The comment had caught her off guard at the time, and now, thinking back on it, something about it gnawed at her. A faint, fleeting thought crossed her mind, one she quickly dismissed—but it returned just as fast. Could Bucky have been the guy she danced with at the party?

Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of the man on the dance floor. No, she reasoned. It couldn’t be him. The guy she kissed looked different. His hair was shorter, his face was less familiar. And yet, something about the way Bucky had looked at her earlier, the way he had joked about seeing her outside of therapy, lingered in her mind.

But Bucky couldn’t be the same guy. Could he?

She sighed, shaking her head. She was overthinking it. There was no way Bucky was the mysterious man from the party. The man looked different, acted differently. And yet, the thought wouldn’t fully leave her.

Y/N glanced back at the screen, at the email detailing the event that awaited her. The weight of her father’s expectations pressed down even harder now, but her mind remained distracted, circling back to Bucky and the lingering feeling of familiarity she couldn’t quite shake.

× × × ×

It was late afternoon, and the air was warm with a gentle breeze as Y/N jogged along the park’s winding path. She loved this time of day—when the sun was low in the sky, casting everything in a golden light. It was the perfect time to clear her head, especially with everything weighing on her lately. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the event her father had planned, but out here, she could forget about it for a while.

Dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants, she moved easily along the trail, her ponytail swaying behind her as she ran. The beat of her music thumped in her ears, the rhythm of her steps in sync with the song. She was feeling good, maybe even a little confident—until she noticed two figures up ahead.

She slowed her pace slightly, squinting as she recognized them. It was Bucky and Steve, both casually walking along the path, deep in conversation. For a moment, Y/N considered veering off onto another trail, but it was too late—Bucky had already spotted her.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called out.

Y/N slowed to a jog, then stopped a few feet in front of them, catching her breath. She pulled out her earbuds, her skin glistening slightly with sweat. 

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with a teasing smile, her breath still coming in short bursts. She gave a quick nod to Steve. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve smiled, his eyes flickering briefly over her before meeting her gaze. “Just Steve, please.”

“Didn’t expect to see you out here.” Bucky seemed momentarily distracted, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than usual.

“Same. But I try to get a run in whenever I can.” Y/N grinned, leaning down for a second to catch her breath, aware of how her outfit might look. 

Steve, ever the polite gentleman, stepped forward, hand reaching for a shake, “Nice to meet you. You must run a lot to be out here in this heat.”

“It’s my way of staying sane.” She flashed a smile, quickly shaking Steve’s hand.

Bucky’s gaze hadn’t left her, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight flicker of something in his expression—was it surprise? Amusement? She couldn’t quite tell, but it gave her a bit of a thrill. 

“So, are you two just out for a walk?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow, subtly glancing at Bucky again. She couldn’t help but recall the lingering thought from a few days ago—could Bucky have been the guy from the party?

“Yeah,” Steve answered, a light chuckle in his voice. “Bucky’s been showing me the less crowded areas. He likes to keep things... quiet.”

“Like I said, no need to be recognized every five minutes.” Bucky scoffed.

Y/N chuckled, catching her breath fully now. “Smart.”

There was a brief silence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there in front of them, especially with how intensely Bucky was watching her. She shifted slightly, not entirely sure why she felt so on edge around him, especially after the last session. The whole party animal comment still gnawed at the back of her mind.

“So... how’s the list going?” she asked, throwing the question at Bucky, more as a distraction than anything.

“Even on a jog, huh? I thought we weren’t in therapy mode right now.” Bucky smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just curious. But if it’s confidential, I’ll back off.”

Steve glanced between them, an amused smile creeping across his face. “Looks like you two know each other. . .well?”

“Yeah, we’ve crossed paths a few times.” Bucky shrugged, still watching Y/N. 

“More than a few,” Y/N added playfully, though her heartbeat seemed to stay quickened. 

Steve gave a nod, his curiosity piqued. “Interesting.”

“Well, I’d better get back to my run. You guys enjoy your walk.” Y/N straightened, glancing between the two of them. 

Before either of them could respond, Y/N turned and jogged off, feeling their eyes on her as she went. She could almost sense Bucky’s gaze lingering a little longer than it should have. Her mind raced, that same nagging thought creeping back in: could it really have been Bucky at the party?

As she rounded a corner and left them behind, she couldn’t help but glance back, catching Bucky’s eyes one last time. No, it couldn’t be him. Could it?

× × × ×

Bucky watched as Y/N jogged away, her form disappearing around the bend of the path. She was hard to ignore—especially dressed like that, with her confidence and energy radiating off her. It was a stark contrast to the calm, composed version of her he’d seen in their sessions. 

What made it worse, though, was the fact that he knew. He knew Y/N was the woman Steve had danced with, the one he kissed at the party. Steve hadn’t figured it out, hadn’t made the connection. But Bucky had. He’d recognized Y/N after seeing her many times, her face too familiar to forget. But he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know why he kept it to himself—maybe because it wasn’t his business.

His mind wandered back to what she said earlier—about the list. Even outside of the office, she seemed to care about his progress. But Bucky had to admit, something about seeing her like this, away from their usual serious conversations, made it harder for him to keep things professional in his head. Especially with her jogging off like that.

“You’re staring, Buck.”

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to look away. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. And don’t try to deny it.” Steve chuckled.

Bucky shook his head, trying to play it off. “I wasn’t... I was just—” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

“You were just... admiring the view?” Steve teased, a knowing smile creeping across his face.

“Shut up, man.” Bucky shot him a glare, but it lacked the bite. 

Steve’s grin widened. “I get it. She’s... hard to miss.”

Bucky exhaled, his jaw tightening. He hated how obvious he must have looked. “It’s not—She’s... she’s my therapist, kinda. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, so it is like that.” Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a thing for your therapist?”

Bucky shot him another glare. He DID NOT have a thing for her, but ever since the first time he ran into her outside of their sessions, he’d been struggling to reconcile the two versions of Y/N—the professional therapist and the carefree woman he kept bumping into. And now, seeing her like this? It wasn’t helping.

“No, I don’t,” Bucky said, though it sounded more defensive than he intended. “She’s just... different than I thought. That’s all.”

Steve chuckled again, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Buck. But from where I’m standing, it seems like she’s gotten under your skin.”

Steve watched as Bucky’s eyes lingered on the spot where Y/N had disappeared around the bend. He could tell Bucky was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious—Y/N had thrown him off his game. Steve knew Bucky well enough to recognize when something, or someone, had shaken him.

“You know, she seems pretty cool,” Steve said casually, watching for Bucky’s reaction. “Smart, confident. You don’t see that every day.”

Bucky grunted in response, still not looking at him.

Steve smirked, deciding to push a little further. “So, how long have you known her?”

Bucky shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it. “Not long. We’ve just run into each other a few times. Nothing major.”

Steve wasn’t buying it. There was more to this than Bucky was letting on. 

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t mention her before because...?”

Bucky finally looked over at Steve, his face guarded. “Because there’s nothing to mention.”

Steve gave him a look, the same one he’d been giving Bucky since the ‘40s whenever Bucky tried to avoid a subject. “Right. You’re just staring after her because... nothing.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, she’s a therapist I’m seeing for some stuff. That’s it. I didn’t bring it up because it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal. Well, she clearly left an impression on you. The way you were watching her jog away... if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were interested.”

Bucky frowned, throwing his arms in the air. “I am not interested, Steve.”

Steve smiled, leaning in a little. “You sure about that? Because it seems to me like maybe it’s a little more complicated than you’re letting on.”

Bucky shook his head. 

Steve’s smile softened, and he gave Bucky a nudge. “Look, man. I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t ignore whatever you’re feeling. You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to let someone in.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his jaw tightening again. Steve knew he wasn’t going to push it any further for now, but he could see it—Y/N had definitely gotten under Bucky’s skin, whether Bucky was ready to admit it or not.

As they continued their walk, Steve glanced over at Bucky, a small grin playing on his lips. He’d keep this little observation to himself for now, but he’d definitely be keeping an eye on this whole situation. Something told him this wasn’t the last time Y/N was going to cross their paths.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[yukyuki]

We’re Good - LN’4

summary- when you two work on making each other jealous it will always come right back to you two in bed. 🍾

warnings- mdni! unprotected sex, language, alcohol, fingering, smut overall 🔞

a/n- omg I wrote this probably in less than an hour I’m sorry for any mistakes but I had to post this I was freaking out so bad!! 🧡🖤 listen to We’re Good by Dua Lipa that was the inspo!

Your relationship with Lando had always been filled with ups and downs. Broke up, made up and repeat. The main reason he was filled with toxic jealousy and you would always get back at him which didn’t help neither of you. Yet none of the others drivers or your friends doubted you were meant for each other.

As of right now you had broken up with him, and were at the After party of the Mexican Grand Prix which Alex forced you to go.

“girl he’s looking at you” Kelly said to you as she glanced over your shoulder seeing Lando’s eyes fixated on you and your beautiful back side. That little black dress worn purposely or not was Lando’s weakness. His lower lip slightly between his teeth and his eyes scanning your figure from the other side of the room was just making him crazier.

“So? He’s dancing with another girl anyway…” you responded to Kelly finishing your martini. Looking towards the dance floor.

“There’s your man…wanna go dance?” you say as she giggled.

“Of course!” she said as she grabbed your hand and to the dance floor you went, as you dance with Kelly you felt a warm presence turning your head you see the one and only Sir Lewis Hamilton.

“Oh I’m so sorry Lewis” you apologize for the sudden closure between the two of you. He gave you a gentle smile and shook his head.

“Don’t apologize…it looks like we were both forced to be here huh?” he said making you release a long sigh.

“Definitely…ugh but what do you mean? You won 2nd place congratulations!” you said smiling.

“Thank you Y/n…um random questions though…you and Lando broke up again huh?” he asked which caused you to frown your eyebrows.

“Oh well…you could say…yes…why?” you asked him as you notice his eyes glancing behind you.

“well if looks could kill I would say I would already be dead and buried” he said as you scoffed softly.

“let him be…he’s surrounded by girls either way…why don’t we dance? can you help me give him a taste of his own medicine?” you say throwing your arms around his neck as he looked down at your showing his pearly whites.

“sure sweetheart but you better pull him back when he comes after me” he said resting his hand on my hip as I nodded.

“I pinky promise…” you say giggling.

Minutes into your devilish plan with Lewis the loud music boomed loudly in the room as your hips were against Lewis yet he understood the assignment followed your pace. Your hands roamed down his hard toned chest and bodied closed together. Lewis glanced behind him as his hand seemed to touch your ass from Lando’s perspective…he never did.

“I didn’t think you would be this good of a dancer” you say smiling as he spun you around making your gaze bump in Lando standing so closer to you, your felt suffocated rolling your eyes you smiled at Lewis and told him you were tired and headed to the bar ordering an ice tea.

Lando leaned on the bar looking your.

“now you’re going after drivers?” his voice his you as you turn to him faking a smile.

“I remind you we’re not together anymore, but if that’s the case you’re going after easy girls that probably just want your reputation and money…and not actual love” you hit back drink some of your tea.

“do you actually love me Y/n?” he asked you getting closer to your small figure. You looked up meeting his eyes.

“You know I fucking do Lando you are just so immature and you don’t see it” you say about to look away but his thumb and index finger keeps your fave from leaving his.

“why were you dancing with Lewis then? You seemed like you were ready to fuck him” he replied as you looked away rolling your eyes.

“yup…you don’t change…what did you expect? for me to just watch you flirt with other girls? Watch their hands all over you, waiting for you to fuck them yeah Lando…I’m not stupid”

• • • •

You both went back and forth yet their was an audience behind you guys.

“What did we miss?” George asked joining the others with Carmen as they took a seat.

“Shhh” Alex hushed as he tried to make out the argument. Lily laughed and started to catch up George and Carmen and the missed parts.

“basically they’re making up…again” Max said laughing.

“just a matter of seconds” Kelly finished looking at your guys again.

“you are such an idiot Lando!” you yelled looking for your bag grabbing it about to leave the place but Lando’s hand quickly grabbed yours pulling you into a forceful kiss. You struggled your way out, but how can a fragile girl like you break out from the grip of a formula one driver that probably lived in the gym. His strong arms held you in place. Before pulling you away.

“you’re coming to my hotel room and we can talk there where it’s just us two and not all the drivers and their girls got it?” he mumbled as you pulled away from him walking out ahead of him as he looked behind throwing a thumbs up to the others running behind you.

• • • •

You both had not said a word the second you stepped into his bedroom. You pushed against the wall as his hand rested on your neck keeping you as close as possible. Lando’s free hand locked the door and your hands pulled on his shirt. Eager for what’s to come he pulled his shirt off throwing it somewhere as he leaned in attacking your neck with bites and wet kissed that caused you to release soft moan into his ear. Pulling on his brown locks you got wetter each second, no touch felt like Lando’s, that was for sure.

Smirking against your neck, Lando knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew you were already so wet for him the tent in his pants grew more and more prominent. His hand moved under your dress pulling your black laced thong off as he disposed of it brushing his two fingers between your folds your knees grew weak and you whined against his lips scratching his chest softly kissing his chin.

“P-please Lando…oh god” you got cut off by his two fingers entering you. He moved that at a fast punishable pace making you grip on his shoulders for support trying to not fall his other arm held you in place. Your moans grew louder.

“F-fuck…L-Lando yes…baby…” you moaned throwing your head back as he took advantage and created a mark on you, which claimed you as his. Your walls tightened around his fingers making him growl into your ear.

“God you sound so hot…I want to hear you like this when I’m fucking you got it?” he whispered scissoring his fingers in you as you moaned before nodding.

“please fuck me already…I’m…I’m close” you whined as your legs grew weaker and your orgasm grew nearer he didn’t stop until you came undone on his fingers as he pulled out causing your juices to drip down your things. He sucked his fingers clean and your eyes never left his as he did. Turning you around he lifted your dress revealing your ass before spanking you.

“you think I would be able to fuck another girl when I have a beautiful girl like you? you’re my only one baby” he whispered into your ear biting your shoulder gently. Breathing heavily you move your ass back on him feeling his bulge, you blush at his words as your sparkly eyes meet his.

“prove it to me Lando” you whispered moving your hand back moving your fingers into his hair. His hands roamed your body before unzipping your dress watching it fall off from you. You hold his hand pulling him to his messy bed that he had left this morning. You kiss him passionately as you both fall on the bed him after you, your tongues against each other before he flipped you around.

“on all fours beautiful” he commanded you in his deep British accent and you obeyed on all fours you hear him unbuckle his pants along with his boxers and positioned himself behind you.

Pulling you close he entered you slowly and deep as you became undone releasing a pornographic moan. Lando couldn’t help but go insane on how he was making you feel his thrusts started slow and deep and he filled you up perfectly in every way.

“f-fuck…Lando yes ah!” you whimpered as he pulled your back against his chest. His hand groping on your breast as he went deeper into you, you bounce back on his holding on from his thighs throwing your head back.

Your moans could probably be heard down the hallways of the hotel floor and there might already be complaints from other rooms but this was how make up sex always turned out with Lando. Hot, explosive and loud and you loved every single part of it.

“Oh my god! Yes…yes right there!” you cried opening your mouth but a silent moan came out twitching inside of you Lando’s groans joined your moans as you both rode out your highs. He thrusts fast at an inhuman pace and you move your ass against him making him reach places he had never reached before.

“Oh fuck! Lando!” you scream finally releasing on him as he held you against him slowly down as he shot out his cum into you staying there catching your breath you touch his cheek breathing heavily pecking his lips.

“God…I love you Lando” you whispered blushing so hard you felt embarrassed, finally realizing how you have behaved in the last 15 minutes of lust and desire with Lando.

“I love you more baby…” he whispered rubbing your thighs quickly hugging your waist.

“no don’t move yet…this feel so good” he whispered in your ear as the blush in your cheeks kept growing you bit your lip at the sticky sensation that connected the two of you.

“you actually don’t like Lewis right?” he questioned with his head resting on your shoulder making you laugh.

“Lando…never in a million years he is such a good friend… and my partner in crime he help me get the man I actually love to fuck me…just don’t tell him that” you say blushing as he smirked.

“don’t you dare Norris…” you threatened as he shook his head.

“don’t worry baby…only I get to know how crazy you get when I fuck you” he said softly as I hit his arm

“so we’re back together?” you asked

“I actually think we never broke up baby” he responded kissing your shoulder.

• • • •

“so apparently you two are back together” Kelly said making you burn yourself with your coffee before clearing your throat.

“w-what?” you ask subconsciously fixing the turtle neck thinking you had exposed Lando’s marks on you.

“Oh Kelly give Y/n a break the whole hotel heard them” Lily added as you couldn’t help but blush.

“Here’s your croissant baby” Lando said taking a seat next to you. As Alex patted him on his back.

“you two are just perfect you know that right?” Carmen said admiring you two as you looked at Lando.

“I think you’re right Carmen…Lando is perfect for me so yeah…we’re good” you say winking at him kissing his cheek as Kelly snapped a picture of you two that she will later post to brag her favorite couple on the paddock.

_______

I got to say one of my favorite smuts I’ve wrote 🧡

[isimpoveryou]

carlos sainz x ex!reader

fc: ariana grande

{𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓} {next part}

2023

enews ✔︎

liked by user01 and 489,211 others

enews it seems like our favorite singer and actress Y/n L/n was seen crying last night after a night out with closest friends (Bella Hadid, Gigi Hadid, and Dua Lipa) after her news of her Long term ex boyfriend Carlos Sainz confirmed his relationship with a scottish model, Rebecca Donaldson.

view all comments

user01 bro thats so messed up?! didnt y/n and carlos broke up a month ago?

user02 CARLOS SAINZ WHEN I SEE YOU! WHEN I FUCKING SEE YOU!!

user03 calling all the girls and the gays to bring their lipgloss and torches out and wait outside that asshole house

user04 COUNT ME IN

user05 liploss and torches are ready

2024

lovelyy/n

liked by yourinstagram and 25,820 others

lovelyy/n its been a year since y/n last active on her instagram. i hope she's doing well ❤️❤️❤️ we miss youuu y/n!!!

view all her comments

user01 I MISS HER SMILE SO MUCHHH!! ever since we do not speak his name broke her heart all her paparazzi picture been so sad!!

user02 her smile is just perfect ❤️❤️❤️

user03 its so perfect

user04 I MISS HER 😭😭😭

user05 OMG I JUST REALIZED SHE LIKED?!?!

lovelyy/n I KNOW IM ALSO IN SHOCKED?!?!

yourinstagram awhhh how sweet of you, i definitely miss every one of you here even moree ❤️❤️

lovelyy/n OMG?! HIII?!?! i love you so much y/n please take as much rest as you liked

yourinstagram how considered of you ❤️❤️

Y/n POV

Bella plop my phone down the sofa "That asshole won't text you again." she scoffed "can you believe after he cheated on you he thinks it's a great idea to be friends?! friends?! GOSH!"

I sighed listening to her rambles "I know... I'm so confused why" i paused for a moment "I just don't understand part of me still misses him. It's so hard to just let him and all the memories go." i teared up "God why am i even crying?!" i sniffled "I feel so stupid!"

Bella hugged me and started to rub my back "hey hey you're not foolished, y/n. I mean come on break ups are hard and let's not forget you and carlos dated for almost 10 years." she said softly "Look you know what i think you should do to get all that rage out?" "what?" "Go and write a damn song about him" she smirked.

[islamicspecialistforloveback]

Dua To Someone To Come Back in Your Love

You can make dua to make someone love you back if you love a woman very much and you want her to come back. If you want to build your love again then you can read Dua to make someone love you this both dua will help you to increase the love between both of you. Your love will come back for sure if you read this carefully and peacefully. Many people in this world believed this Dua to be very…

[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.

[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.

[gluion]

pretty please — jacob bae

pairing — jacob bae x fem!reader genre — strangers to lovers, suggestive (minors dni) wc — 1.5k insipired by — bed chem by sabrina carpenter // pretty please by dua lipa misc/warnings — alcohol consumption, sexual tension, pet names (good girl), reader wears makeup, grinding in a public place... ehem..., dirty talk, making out, hickeys note — badcob... save me, badcob... gluion deobi writer renaissance for badcob and we have to thank @kimsohn for requesting :p thank u for letting me remember why i love writing for tbz, esp jacob <3

synopsis — you make every possible excuse in the book to explain your tinder match’s tardiness. yet, you find yourself meeting a man who screams of innocence—until you find yourself at his mercy.

you think someone’s watching you.

at first, it came in the form of an itch you can’t reach until it morphed into a chill running down your spine. one look back, no one behind you. another look back, only a couple who wanted to grab a drink from the bartender.

you’d like to think it could be someone you were in the same organization with, maybe even someone you shared a class with, but you were far from the clubs that your university would infiltrate. you were somewhere entirely new, filled with employed folks, for a tinder match.

a first date in a bar isn’t one you would agree to, really, but you couldn’t deny the man with the cat eyes. after all, you still couldn’t believe he matched with you. the last thing you wanted is to shut the connection down.

but it’s been a good two hours since the agreed meet-up time, at least four glasses of margaritas in your system, and there was no sight of him. 

you should wait. what if he was dealing with some motorcycle issues? did his cat need to be brought to the clinic for an emergency? every excuse possible and you’ll accept it. 

a chill runs down your spine.

your eyes dart everywhere, hoping to spot your tinder match you’ve been waiting for—until they meet wide, brown ones.

across the bar stands a man dressed in a grey tank top with a black jacket over. surrounded by a group of boys who break into laughter, he pays no attention to their conversation. it’s only when he takes a sip from his drink that brings you to look away.

your skin grows hot; the only solution you have is to drink some more. 

you’ve downed your fifth glass of margarita for the night, and you still need more.

“bartender, give me one more.” at his nod, you’re ready to pull out a couple of bills, until a waft of lavender enters your nose. a glass is set down beside you.

“i’ll pay.”

you look up to see the same man from across the bar. up close, you can trace his features; soft jawline, soft skin, soft lips. he takes a seat beside you before asking, “care if i stay with you?”

it’s not that you find him unattractive. he just doesn’t fall under your usual types; those who had a sharp gaze with the goal of ruining you seemed to be the ones you gravitated towards.

everything about him screams an innocent man—and your tinder date is far from that.

“uh,” you clear your throat, “i have a date.”

his eyebrows scrunch together. “really? where are they? because i’ve seen you with no one the whole night.”

“well, he’s late, i think,” you whisper the last phrase.

you expect the stranger to laugh at you. it wouldn’t be the first time a man bothered you at a club. yet, he smiles. “then, can i keep you company? maybe wait for him with you?”

although you would grow annoyed at this type of persistence, you find yourself enjoying his presence. “don’t you think he’d see you and think that i ditched him?”

your order for another martini is placed in front of you.

“if he were a real man, he’d come up and let me know,” he says as he slides a couple of bills to the bartender. “besides, a real man wouldn’t leave you waiting.”

you muster out a bitter laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “okay, and what does that make you?”

his eyes flicker to the lipstick stain. “why don’t you find out yourself?”

seconds go by.

“well, do you have a name?”

he smiles. “jacob.”

“y/n.”

jacob hums as he leans on the bar. “so, who is this date?”

“just someone i matched with on tinder.”

“first date?” at your hum, jacob chuckles in disbelief. “you decided on the place?”

you roll your eyes. “have some faith in me.”

jacob shakes his head. “well, y/n, i don’t know enough about you.” he swishes the contents in his cup. before the rim can meet his lips, he says, “but that can change tonight.”

you’re not sure if the alcohol is taking a toll on you or the packed crowd raising the temperatures; your skin grows hot and jacob might be to blame. 

“so, i’m guessing he’s the one that chose the place.”

you nod at his assumption. as he grips his glass, arms resting on the bartop, your eyes trace the details; well-defined forearms and slender fingers.

despite talking about your tinder match, your mind drifts away from him. instead, it’s filled with images of the stranger beside you; arms strong enough to hold you up against the wall, hands that could leave bruises all over your hips, fingers that know how to ruin you until you’re on the verge of tears. you’re entranced by the sight of his fingers drumming against the table. every tap causes the pool in between your legs to grow.

his biceps tense up, and your breath hitches.  

“i would’ve never imagined a club for a first date.” when you meet his gaze, you spot a smirk plastered on his face, like he caught you in the act.

maybe jacob isn’t like the image you made him up to be.

“trust me, i wouldn’t have also.” your finger traces the rim of your glass, collecting some salt. 

he nods along with the beat of the music. “then what made you say yes?”

a beat passes.

“i’ve got needs,” you admit before popping your salt-covered digit into your mouth.  

he tongues the inside of his cheek, and you wonder how well he could eat you out; all the highs you could achieve all thanks to the licks against your clit. “really?” as he leans forward, your senses grow hazy over the scent of lavender, over the alcohol consumed, over the intoxicating presence of jacob. he stares right at you before taking a glance at your lips. “i wonder if he can really fulfill those needs.”

a bit of corruption swirls in jacob.

once you pop out your finger, you down the rest of your cocktail, staring right back at jacob who follows you. with drinks finished, you get off your seat and grab hold of his arm.

you drag him through the dance floor until your back hits a wall. you and jacob were not far from the sweaty crowd, still surrounded by those who are far too drunk to care about you two. yet, your hands reach out to his hoodie, and his hands plant against the wall.

a mix of red and orange strobes cast over your figures. even under the lack of white light, you take in jacob’s features. most of it still speak of gentleness, but his eyes scream otherwise—the type of look that makes you want to submit to his mercy.

“thought you were going to take me dancing,” jacob remarks. his hands trail down your face until it rests on the side of your neck. “maybe make your date jealous if he saw me with you.”

“you think you could do that, huh? think you could make the guy i was going to hook up with jealous of you?”

it’s a genuine question for the stranger you can’t stop thinking about. is jacob the definition of innocence?

he smirks before leaning closer. his breath grazes against your lips. “i think he should be jealous.”

your lips crash against his, hands bringing his body close to yours. his palms find their spot on your waist, reaching under your shirt and relishing in your warmth. your noses bump against each other in desperation.

the alcohol tells you that you need him closer, so your hands tug on his clothes. once his hips are flushed against yours, you grind on his cock, feeling it grow harder with every rock. the pool in between your legs grows; a wet patch on your panties. his hands find their spot on your ass, guiding every roll of your hips against his dick.

your senses are floating from the lack of oxygen. as you pull away from the kiss, you and jacob try to catch your breaths. but both your hips don’t stop from its ministrations. all you needed is any pressure on your clit.

“need you. now.”

he chuckles before letting his lips trail down your neck. he sucks on your skin, tongue darting out to leave marks all over you. your eyes shut close as you grow dizzy.

“want me to take you right here? surrounded by people?” as you let out a moan of desperation, jacob’s fingers dig into your skin. “what about your date?”

“i don’t care about him. i haven’t since you came.”

he lets out a hum in contentment of your revelation. “such a good girl for me.”

the pet name causes you to whine. as your grinding starts to go at an inconsistent rhythm, jacob doesn’t guide your hips anymore. your eyes open, hands gripping against his clothes.

“not here.” before you can beg him otherwise, he says, “can’t have others looking at you. you’re mine for the night.”

jacob is far from an innocent man—that’s all you need.

networks tag list: @kflixnet @k-labels @deoboyznet @kstrucknet

tbz permanent tag list: @winterchimez @mosviqu @stealanity (the only ones i was sure of who weren't minors)