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lupinqs · 8 months ago

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paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!

FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige

☆ ━ word count: 5.3K

☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad

FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.

So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.

Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.

The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.

But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.

Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.

That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.

It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.

Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.

“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.

And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.

At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.

You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.

When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.

After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.

When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.

It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.

One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.

You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.

When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.

Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.

But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.

Because now you know two things for sure:

You’re gay.

And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.

And it turns out that she really likes you, too.

Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.

The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.

You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.

Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.

You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.

Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.

And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.

Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.

“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.

Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.

You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.

“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.

You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”

She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”

Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.

Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.

It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.

Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.

She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.

Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.

You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”

Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.

Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.

She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.

Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.

Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.

She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.

“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.

She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.

Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.

Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”

You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.

But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.

But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”

The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”

She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.

She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.

And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.

When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.

Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.

Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.

Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.

And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.

And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.

Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.

“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.

“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”

Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.

Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”

You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”

And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.

Fuck.

Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”

You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”

Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.

“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.

Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wbb #uconn #wcbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fluff #wcbb x reader #wlw post #wlw #lgbtq

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straylightdream · 6 months ago

Text

across the room

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeon wonwoo x f!chubby reader

I caught your eye across the room. No one can feel the tension between me and you. There's no need to mention all the things I wanna do. You wanna do 'em too. We both know we'd be over if they knew

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): friends to lovers, mutual pining, secret lovers, romance, angst, smut

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of body insecurities, cussing, mentions of drinking, angst, having to keep a “relationship” a secret, so much making out, open ending, wonwoo is kinda a former fuckboy.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dry humping, oral (both rec), handjob, fingering, protected intercourse, multiple positions, couch sex, cum eating, snowballing?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

𝐚𝐧: wrote this a while ago and decided it was time to fully rework it.

🎧: hush hush - the band camino | talk fast - 5 seconds of summer

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

His hands held your face as your lips moved together. His lips were completely intoxicating as they moved against yours. There was something about this touch that just drove you absolutely wild. You’re sitting next to each other on your couch. Your fingers gripped his shirt holding him closer to you. He pulls his lips ways from yours and smirk plays across his lips. He well aware of how much he’s turning you on.

“What’s your endgame here?” You ask with your voice low.

“My goal is to have you naked on this couch,” he says completely serious.

“Is that right?” you ask raising your eyebrow.

You and Wonwoo had started this flirty thing a month ago. You’re complete opposites he’s a drop dead gorgeous man with the body of a Greek god you’re a chubby girl who hasn’t ever fooled around outside a relationship.

You felt like this is a game of cat and mouse and once he gets what he wants he’ll be done. This wasn’t the first time you had shared a steamy make out session. Normally things between you got a little handsy but nothing more.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a gentle kiss and pulled away resting his nose against yours.

“I think we’re wearing too much clothing,” his lips brushed against yours.

You were so turned on you were trying to think logically and not tear off your clothes and jump him.

“I think you need to behave,” you reached up resting your hand on his cheek.

“Baby you’re killing me,” he groaned, pulling away from you.

“I think you’ll live,” you smile as you rest your hand on his thigh.

“You’re giving me blue balls babe,” he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

“I think we can have fun without taking our clothes off,” You say as your hand moves to his jean covered bulge.

A groan passed his lips you massaged him. Leaning forward he placed his hands on your soft sides and pulled you onto his lap.

You hadn’t ever sat on his lap before and you felt extremely self conscious about your weight. Your hips starting grinding against his. His lips were connected to your neck gently nipping at your skin. He pulls his lips away from your skin and holds your doughy sides helping move your hips. Your hands held his face so he was looking at you. Pulling off his glasses they set them on the table next to the couch. His dark eyes lust blown as he stared at you. His lips pressed to yours and as he pulled away he gently bit your bottom lip.

“Even if we don’t have sex can we shed some clothes?” his voice is low.

“Sure,” you say with every intention of keeping your clothes on but making sure he feels good.

Crawling off his lap you sit on your knees on the floor between his legs and look up at him with big doe eyes. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he stares down at you.

“What do you want to happen from here?” he putting the ball in your court.

“Take your pants off,” you say, attempting to sound sexy.

He stands up in front of you and quickly pushes down his jeans and boxers. His already hard cock springs free, he’s bigger than you imagined. You had seen Wonwoo shirtless, but you hadn’t ever seen him fully naked.

His pants are pushed down to his thighs and he is sitting there watching you in anticipation. He silently removed his shirt so he’s basically naked.

Sitting up you’re still sitting on your knees. Your hands rest on his thighs. You were going to be brave right now. Wonwoo’s one of the hottest men you have ever seen and he wanted you. Right then you wanted to make him feel good. Reaching forward you stroked his hardened length. A groan passed his lips as he closed his eyes.

Leaning forward you licked the underside of his excitement. His eyes popped open as he watched you take him into your mouth.

You take him as far back as you fully can until he’s touching the back of your throat.“Baby that feels so good,” he pushed his fingers through hair. Gently you bobbed your head as your hand helped work his length.

A slur of curse words passed his lips letting you know he was getting closer and closer to coming. You hadn’t given someone head in a really long time and you were worried you wouldn’t be good at it, but by the way he was saying your name he seemed like he was really enjoying it.

“Fuck-fu-“ you’re getting wet just by the sounds of his moans. “I’m coming-“ You have zero desire to pull off. You want him to fall apart in your mouth. You feel the warm liquid from his release in your mouth and swallow without even thinking about it.

He tugs your hair gently pulling you away. Looking up at him you run your tongue across your bottom lip.

He pulls you onto his lap and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He doesn’t even care that he can taste himself on your lips.

“That was so hot,” he groans with his lips ghosting against yours.

“I wanted to make you feel good,” you say, feeling proud of yourself.

“You made me feel amazing,” he smiles as his hands move up your sides resting under your breast.

“Let me make you feel good,” he says, pulling your shirt up.

“It’s okay, how about next time?” you say as you push your shirt down.

His eyes brows knit together as he looks at you with a confused look. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

You shake your head and say, “I want to have sex with you, but I want to take this slow.”

You were taking things slow because you were afraid that he was going to run once he got what he wanted. You also had a fear that once he saw you naked he wouldn’t want to be with you. He was known for liking pretty skinny girls.

“Okay we can take it slow, but can I at least touch these,” he asked as his eyes were locked in your large breast.

Silently you nod. Reaching forward, his hands hold your breast. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he looks at you with a lust fueled look. As his hands grope your chest you fight back moaning. You want more desperately but you’re too afraid. His hand moves to the edge of your shirt and your eyes pop open quickly. You’re terrified of him seeing you without your shirt. You watch as his hand crawls under your shirt. His hand rested on your breast under your shirt and his touch felt electric. Hungry eyes stay locked on yours as his hands massages your breast. His lips connected to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

The sound of your phone ringing caught both your attention. Wonwoo looked up at you with wide eyes for a moment.

You wanted to ignore the call, but Wonwoo reached over and grabbed your phone. It’s Seungcheol’s name on your phone.

“I can send it to voicemail,” you say, still caught up in the moment.

“Answer it, he’ll start asking questions if you don’t.”

This whole “thing” between you and Wonwoo was a secret. Nobody in your friend group is aware that you two have something going on. Before this all started Wonwoo had been extremely vocal about not wanting to hook up with anyone in the friend group. You weren’t even exactly sure how this all started. It still blows your mind that he’s interested in you. You’re far from his normal type, and the moment you met him you couldn’t lie you had a crush on him. In the beginning it started with longing looks on your part. You couldn’t help but stare. He's just so pretty. It wasn’t long before he started staring back at you. You were completely caught off guard the first time he walked over and talked to you. Shortly after the longing looks he started touching you. They were innocent touches, like he would touch your arm while he spoke to you. When he started resting his hand on your thigh that’s when things started heating up.

You were at a party at Seungcheol’s house when things started to really change between you. It had been a couple weeks of him touching you, and you were standing in the kitchen talking while everyone was drinking throughout the house. You’re leaning against the counter and Wonwoo is standing right in front of you. You’re telling him some random story about when you had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung. He seems like he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. His pretty eyes seem to be locked on your lips.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you ask.

He shakes his head and lets out a nervous laugh. His little laugh always gave you butterflies.

“Should I leave you alone then?” you are curious as to why he isn’t paying attention to what you have to say.

Reaching up he pushes a piece of your hair behind your ear and you can’t help but smile at this simple gesture. He leans forward and his lips brush against your ear, “I can’t pay attention to you because I really want to kiss you.”

Your heart races at his words as you pull away from him and look up at him unsure if he’s being serious. He tilts his head to the side and gives you a smile. He is well aware of the effect he’s having on you.

“Why is that?”

“Because I can’t seem to think about anything other than what your pretty lips will feel like against mine,” he reaches out and touches your arms and you immediately get goose bumps.

“Then are you going to kiss me?”

He bites his bottom lip and pulls away from you. He takes his hat off and pushes his fingers through his hair. He seems oddly nervous which is extremely unlike him.

“I would like for that to be something private with us alone.”

You look around the house and see that it’s filled with all your friends, and you really didn’t want them in your business when it came to your “relationship/friendship” with Wonwoo.

“Well you can always meet me at my place later,” you say trying to be confident.

He smiled and nodded his head, “I’ll leave in ten minutes and then you leave in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you at your place.”

From your first kiss you knew you were in trouble when it came to Wonwoo.

You answer your phone and Seungcheol is asking if you can come over for a party he’s having. He mentions that Soonyoung and Mingyu are on their way and he’s gonna call Wonwoo next. You tell him you’ll be there in twenty. Hanging up your phone you slowly crawl off of Wonwoo, who is still basically naked on the couch.

He gives you a strange look as you reach on the coffee table and grab his phone that has just started ringing.

“He wants to hang, we probably shouldn’t show up together,” you trying to act like it doesn’t bug you that this whole thing is a secret.

Wonwoo takes the call and agrees to head over. He hangs up his phone and pulls his boxers and pants up and finishes getting dressed. You head off to your room to find something to wear. You were in nothing but a pair of leggings and a big shirt. Wonwoo stands in your doorway watching you as you pull out a sweater to wear.

“Did you want to head over together?” he asked.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” you ask knowing that the group will wonder why you drove over together.

“Probably not,” he says walking towards you.

“You should probably head over and I’ll meet you there,” you say as he stops in front of you. He looks down at and holds your face for a long moment before he leans down and presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. Pulling away from you he smiles and says, “thank you for earlier. I need to return the favor.”

You stare at him unsure of what to say. Your body is screaming at you to tell him he can return the favor whenever, but your mind is too self conscious to say that.

“I’ll see you at Seungcheol’s,” you say, changing the subject.

“See you there,” he says before walking out of the apartment.

You hear your front door shut and you sit down on your bed and let out a heavy sigh before rubbing your face. You kept telling yourself that you needed to be confident when it comes to Wonwoo, that he clearly wants you, but you can’t help the walls that you have built up. You’ve had a few shitty ex boyfriends that have drained any self confidence you had.

Ten minutes after Wonwoo left your place you drove over to Seungcheol’s place. You’re greeted by Soonyoung and Mingyu hugging you, and Wonwoo gives you a simple hello as if he wasn’t naked on your couch not even a half hour ago. A bunch of the other boys have showed up. Vernon just arrived with his girlfriend and her roommate. In the living room everyone is sitting around drinking beer and hanging out. Standing in the kitchen with Soonyoung you can feel Wonwoo’s dark eyes on you. The tension between you is thick and you can’t help but wonder if the group has any clue if anything is going on.

Walking back into the living room you sit across from him.

You’re sitting on the couch when you feel your phone vibrate. Opening your phone you can’t help but smile as you read the text Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: I would much rather have you naked right now.

Your cheeks burn as you read his text. You shoot him a look and he just smiles at you, well aware of what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Seungcheol says to catch your attention.

The rest of the evening you continue to hang out with the group. Wonwoo leaves long before you, he has dinner plans with some friends. The moment he leaves you feel all the sexual tension in your body is relieved.

You head home when the little party starts to die down. You head to your place and lay down in bed and scroll through your phone. You smile as you see you have a text from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: are you going to Soonyoung’s place tomorrow for the party?

From you: Yes I’ll be there.

It takes less than a minute before you receive another text from him that reads,

From Wonwoo: okay good. I think you should wear that pretty pink dress.

You know the exact dress he’s talking about. You wore it the night you shared your first kiss.

From you: Why should I wear that?

Another text quickly comes in that reads,

From Wonwoo: Because I’ll reward you with something that makes you feel good.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you read his text. You know exactly what he means and you have every single intention of wearing that dress. As you lay in bed you can’t wait to see Wonwoo tomorrow at the party. You know this is probably just a game of cat and mouse, but you think you’re finally ready to let something more really happen.

Loud music played throughout the house. Standing in Soonyoung’s backyard you watch your friends and lots of strangers were drinking and having a good time. Yuna standing next to you holding her drink she’s telling you about some dance audition she had earlier. Looking across the yard you find Wonwoo talking to Chan. Your eyes lock and he smiles at you. His dark eyes stay locked on you as he’s listening to Chan.

Yuna Notices right away that you aren’t fully paying attention and looks at you with a curious look. She asks you, “So who has your attention?”

You try your hardest not to panic as you look at her.You need to lie you can’t let her know you’re staring at Wonwoo.

“I was looking at Chan, he's over there talking with his hands and I was wondering what he was saying,” you lie.

“Oh,” she says, not bothering to ask you any more questions.

She walks inside to find Vernon and you make your way through the crowded house heading over towards the kitchen. You reach into the fridge and grab a bottle of water. You weren’t the type of person who really ever drank at these parties other than maybe one beer. Your friends tended to get a little crazy and sometimes needed someone to take care of them. Your whole life you had always been dubbed the mom friend, and from the moment you met Seungcheol and all your friends that didn’t change. You watch as Wonwoo and Chan are walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey (Y/N),” Wonwoo smiles.

“Hey boys,” you say looking over at Chan who is holding a beer.

“Where’s your drink?” Chan asks, noticing that you’re holding a bottle of water.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, and someone is going to have to make sure Soonyoung gets put to bed safely,” you say with a little laugh.

“Let’s be real, someone needs to take care of all their drunk asses,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head.

“I thought you were sober and not drinking tonight?” Chan asks.

“I think all of you need more than one person to take care of you,” you let out a little laugh.

“True,” Chan said before taking a drink of his beer.

Chan heads over to Swungkwan leaving you alone with Wonwoo. It’s rare that you and Wonwoo ever get a moment alone at an event with your friends. That might be why people don’t actually think something is going on between you. Literally nobody even has the slightest idea something is happening.

You’re leaning against the counter as he’s watching you. The tension between you is thick and you wish you could kiss him, but you knew that wasn’t an option. You don't need everyone in the room to know what’s going on between you.

“I see you wore the pink dress,” he says as his eyes travel up and down your soft body.

Looking down at your feet you can’t help but blush,”I wore it just for you.”

He steps closer to you so there isn’t much distance between you. Looking around you look to see if anyone is paying attention.

“I think I said that I would reward you for wearing this,” He leans closer as he whispers loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is that promise?” you look into his dark eyes that already look lust blown.

He nods and steps away from you. A shiver runs down your spine as he smirks at you.

“I look forward to that later,” you walk away from him. You feel his eyes on you as you walk off towards the bathroom. You need a moment alone, he managed to leave you feeling extremely flustered without even trying.

Walking into the bathroom you shut the door and took a deep breath. The sound of someone knocking on the door catches your attention.

“One minute,” you say softly. Whatever drunk girl that needed to use the restroom could wait a minute.

“It’s Wonwoo, let me in,” you hear him say on the other side.

Reaching forward you unlock the door and step back. He steps inside and shuts the door and locks it. You know this is dangerous that someone could have seen him come into the bathroom with you.

Leaning against the bathroom counter as he walks towards you like a hunter stalking his prey. He grips your soft hips and helps you sit on the edge of the bathroom counter. He stands between your legs and his large hands rest on your soft thighs.

“I need to kiss you,” he says leaning forward so his lips brush against yours.

“Then kiss me,” you say feeling bold.

He leans into your lips and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips move together and you thank god that he joined you in the bathroom. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Never in your life have you ever felt the sparks you felt when you kissed Wonwoo. Pulling his lips away from yours he gently tugged on your bottom lip and you couldn't help the soft moan that passed your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans with his lips ghosting yours.

“You’re beautiful too,” you say. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get out how pretty he is.

“As soon as this party is over I’m going to make you feel good,” he says as he rubs your thigh under your dress. He leaves you wanting more as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours for another kiss before stepping away. You watch as he leaves the bathroom and you stay in there for a couple minutes hoping people wouldn’t notice you’re in there together.

Walking out of the bathroom you look around hoping nobody noticed you leaving shortly after Wonwoo.

The house is filled with too many people you didn’t know and loud music. You wander around alone contemplating how long you had to stay before acceptably being able to leave. You look off into the kitchen to find Wonwoo talking to Chan once again. As he watches you walk by you can feel his eyes burning into you. You find Yuna and Mia sitting on the couch and you walk over and sit next to them. They’re talking about Mia and Seokmin’s wedding and you know this is the perfect topic to keep your mind off of Wonwoo.

An hour passes when you notice Wonwoo is no longer at the party. He’s always been the type of person who leaves a party without telling anyone. You thought this situation might be a little different though.

At midnight you take this as your opportunity to say your goodbyes to the group. You drive home and you can’t help but feel a little nervous about seeing Wonwoo.

Laying in your bed you can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re on edge waiting to hear from Wonwoo in some capacity.

At two in the morning you butterflies fill your stomach at a text from him.

From Wonwoo: Can you pick me up?

You know that he wants you to pick him but because if anyone drives by and sees his car at your apartment at two in the morning it will be obvious that something is going on.

From you: can be there in ten. Meet me outside.

You’re playing with fire and you’re well aware of that. Since this thing started between you and Wonwoo you hadn’t ever picked each other up in the middle of the night. You knew that this wasn’t just going to be you guys hanging out and making out. Wonwoo had promised to make you feel good, and you knew that consisted of you taking your clothes off.

The drive to Wonwoo’s apartment is short and you find him outside waiting for you. You pull up to the curb and he jumps in and leans over to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

As you start driving he reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh. His thumb gently brushes against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

The short drive to your place seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity as you pull into your parking spot.

Slowly getting out of your car you shut the door and take a deep breath. You watch as Wonwoo walks towards the front door. You’ve never been happier that you live alone.

Opening the door you walk inside. Looking over at the clock near the door it reads 2:45am. You know that this isn’t going to be an innocent make out session. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at you with lust filled eyes.

Taking a deep breath you tell yourself that you are ready for this. That you’re brave, that you’re a confident woman who loves her own body and is ready for this.

“Why do I feel like you’re overthinking this?” He steps towards you.

“Because I totally am overthinking everything right now,” you nervously smooth your dress down.

He reaches up and rests his hand on your arm and his dark eyes lock on yours, “what are you thinking about?”

Silently you stare at him for a long moment. You know you need to be honest with him. “What happens after tonight?”

He pushes his hand through his hair and stares back at you before he says, “what do you mean?”

“What happens after I finally have sex with you? Are we over because the thrill of the chase is over?” you hated that what you were asking was so brutally honest but you needed to know.

“Do you really think that little of me?” he says as if he is pretty hurt by your question.

“I’m trying to be realistic here. I know damn well I’m not your type,” your building up a wall in an attempt to save yourself.

He takes your face in both his hands and says, “this isn’t some game to me. I want you, because I really like you. This isn’t just about trying to have sex with you.” Butterflies flutter around your stomach as he leaves you at complete loss of words.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours while he’s still holding your face. Your lips move together for a heated kiss. The room feels like it’s spinning as you get wrapped up in his touch. His hands slowly move from holding your face to resting on your neck. Pulling your lips away from him you take a slow breath as you stare at him with lust blown eyes. He licks his lips as a smile plays on his face. He steps back and pulls his shirt off. The sight of him standing shirtless in front of you makes your mouth water.

“God how are you even real,” you groan as you reach out dragging your hands down his abs that seem to be cut from marble.

“I workout a lot,” he says ever so casually.

“I’m well aware,” you shake your head and look up at him.

“I see you’re still wearing the dress,” his hand moved up so they’re playing with the edge of your sleeve.

You nod silently.

“Can we take this off?”

You want to say no, but you need to be brave. He’s made this very clear that this isn’t some game to him.

“Yeah.”

He steps behind you and slides the zipper slowly down the back of your dress. You feel the cool air against your skin. You close your eyes as he reaches up and moves the dress of your shoulders. You stand in a pool of fabric and the cool air against your skin is a reminder of how bare you are.

The feeling of his lips against your bare shoulder snaps you out of your thoughts. Instinctually you wrap your arms across your stomach. His lips move to the side of your neck kissing the right spot that he knows drives you wild. With his lips ghosting your skin he says, “you’re so pretty.”

Your eyes pop open when you feel his lips move away from your skin. He stands in front of you as his dark eyes travel up and down your soft body. You’re on full display, and you’re worried he isn’t going to like what he sees.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says as he works on unbuckling his belt.

You reach up and unclasp your bra, and work on taking it off as he takes off his pants, and his shoes.

You're both standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heart starts to race at what is going to come next. His lips are once again on your neck, but this time his hand hungry hands are roaming your curvy body. Biting your lips you hold back a moan as his lips move down to take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches against him craving his touch.

“We need to get to my bed or the coach,” you moan.

He removes his lips from your skin and smiles. Reach down, he takes your hand and leads you over to the couch. You sit down on the scene of your earlier crime where you gave him head yesterday. You watch as Wonwoo quickly walks over to his jeans that are on the floor where you had just been standing. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and tosses it back into the puddle of clothing on the floor. He walks back over to the couch and sets the foil packets on the coffee table and looks over at you for a moment.

“Do you want to continue?” he asks. You silently nod. “Please tell me you want more,” he says.

“Wonwoo I want every single part of you.”

“Okay,” he says as he pushes his boxers down. He once again stands in front of you completely naked and you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get over the sight of him naked. You fully understand why all women and men that encounter him always talk about how hot he is.

You stand up taking this as your cue to lose your own underwear. Hooking your fingers into your panties you push them down your thick thighs.

“Sit down on the couch,” he says.

Silently you listen and sit down on the couch. He kneels in front of you and looks at you like he’s about to eat you alive, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to no end. His hands rest on each of your knees and push them apart slowly. He reaches up and grabs your butt pulling you closer to the edge of the couch. He kisses his way up your inner thigh until his lips brush the top of your mound. Closing your eyes you fight back moaning as he licks your already wet slit. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he laps at your bundle of nerves. He adds one of his long fingers into the mix. It’s not long before he has you completely on the edge and moaning his name. Another finger is added as he sucks on your clit. This man is very good with his fingers and his mouth. Your eyes about roll back in your head as the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

Tangling your fingers in his dark hair you hold him close to your wet core. “Won-“ his name is a broken cry as you're so close to the edge you can taste it. “Please-“

Your orgasm feels like a white hot wave as you come against his mouth.

Coming down from your high you stare at him with lust filled eyes. He stands sporting a proud smile at his handy look.

“I promised you I would make you feel good.”

Reaching down he picks up the foil packet and tears it open with his teeth. Your breathing is still uneven as you watch him slide the rubber down his hardened length. Sitting his glasses down on the coffee table. He sits down on the couch next to you, and automatically connects his lips to yours for a searing kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he moves to pull you onto his lap. You’re hovering over his cock as your lips continue to move together. Pulling your lips away from his you bit your bottom lip as you rest your hand on his tone chest. His hand moves to your soft hips and stares into your eyes as he guides you down his straining cock. Closing your eyes you moan as he stretches you in the best way possible. He bottoms out leaving you sitting on his thighs. Silently you stare at him taking in the feeling of him stretching you. He feels as if he was made for you. Reach up, taking his face in your hands and say, “oh my god you feel amazing.”

“Baby you feel incredible,” he groans.

Slowly you start moving your body up and down his length. His hands stay resting on your sides helping to guide your movement.

Your lips crash together and you roll your hips into his. This felt just like you hoped it would. Your hand talon into his shoulders as you moan into his lips. With each movement he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He’s so big he’s stretching in the most delicious way.

His lips move down your next leaving a trail of gentle nips and wet kisses. All the oxygen feels like it’s being sucked out of the room as the coil in your stomach is tightening. Your finger snakes down and rubs your sensitive clit. All the nerves in your body feel like they’re alive as you’re getting closer and closer to the edge.

His dark eyes are locked on yours as he reaches up, taking your face in his hands. You close your eyes you roll your hip faster. Your knees are starting to burn but you don’t even care. You desperately want to come. “Look at me,” he groans. Opening your eyes. You stare at him as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet each of your movements. He’s hitting just the right place as he lifts his hips thrusting into you.

When he pushes you over the edge you see stars. Your whole body burns and everything feels so warm. Throwing your head back you moan his name riding out your high. You roll your hips trying to help him find his own release. He catches you off guard when he moves both of you so you’re flat on your back and he’s hovering over you. He pauses for a moment. Leaning down, crashing his lips into yours. Pulling away he slides into you again. He rolls his hips into you over and over as you high wash over you.

Reaching up you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him close to you. Your lips move together as his thrust grows sloppier. He groans your name as he finds his release.

He collapses on top of you and you can’t help but smile. He stays there for a long moment before he pulls himself of you. Slowly he walks off to the bathroom and discards the condom before walking back over and sitting on the couch next to you.

“Did you maybe want to lay in your bed together?” he asks, catching you off guard.

You nod your head and smile. You take his hand and lead him off to your room. Laying down in bed Wonwoo lays close to you and pulls your soft body close to his. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms. You aren’t sure what any of this means but you hope maybe one day you and Wonwoo can have something more than secret little moments together.

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luvseisagi · 1 month ago

Text

— this one's for you.

read part 1 here.

ft. isagi yoichi x reader. wc. 4k

summary. it all started with breakfast, and now you're quite literally the main character of an american teen romcom movie —whats next, a goal dedicated to you? content. fem!reader, fem pronouns used, fluff, crack, slow burn ?? they don't end up dating like officialy but kinda ?? isagis parents are like . very present here. college students!au. reader realizes shes down bad. isagi plays for the uni team and looks very hot doing it. author's note. remember i said id post this soon. well. uni's got me again im SO sorry, but here it is!! idk ive been meaning to write this for a while now but im not sure if i like it at all now ?? i read it too much i guess, hope u do like it tho <3

𝜗𝜚 english isnt my first language, so any corrections or advice are highly appreciated, as well as feedback (please) !

fuck. you think to yourself, going up the stairs as fast as you can. fuck fuck fuck.

you nimbly and silently dodge the faded blue and yellowish-white seats, crouching slightly, trying not to disturb the crowd already settled in the stands, muttering “sorry, i’m sorry, excuse me" every time you step on someone's foot or have to ask them to stand up so you can pass.

you get a couple of judgmental glances and a few retorts, but nothing embarrasses you more than finally reaching the front row of the stands and approaching the only empty seat next to a couple who are staring at you intently.

isagi's parents.

you hurriedly sit down after the person on your other side clears their throat —you’re blocking their view.

"hello," you dare to whisper, tilting your head forward before making eye contact with them, as if that way they can ignore the red hue that's invaded your entire face. "i'm sorry i was late. i got mixed up with the subway and didn't leave home early enough."

that's not true. you've been fully prepared —makeup done and outfit on—, hours before you had to leave. however, ten minutes before you had to get off the subway, you’d looked in the mirror and decided your hair wasn't right, so you had pulled out the hair straightener and brush again. what was supposed to be a simple touch-up turned into a nearly half-hour hairstyling session in front of your bathroom mirror.

and all your effort only served to have the warm summer wind ruffle your hair as you stepped outside.

"yn, right?" isagi's mother —undoubtedly related to him, they have the same eyes— gives you a warm look that makes your heartbeat slow down a bit. "don't worry, the game's just starting, they’re late too.”

"nice to finally meet you, yn." isagi's father peeks out from behind his wife and waves in greeting, also flashing a smile that's exactly like his son's. "yoichi has told us a lot about you."

you reciprocate his gesture with another smile, and turn your head toward the field in front of you. you have a perfect view of all the players from the spot they've reserved for you —high above the field, but not so high that the teams look like simple colored dots on a green blanket. you assume the ones wearing blue are your university's team, since that’s the college’s official color.

isagi has told you about his teammates and practice many times, but somehow he never mentioned any detail about the team's kit or his number.

you're a little embarrassed to ask out loud.

"uh..." you whisper again, leaning slightly closer to isagi's mother without taking your eyes off the field. "what number is yoichi?"

"yoichi, hm?" there's a hint of amusement in his voice, teasing you for using his son's first name. "he's number eleven —there, near the long-haired redheaded boy. do you see him?"

your gaze follows her directions and rests on the blue back of number eleven. his back is turned, but his disheveled black hair and the way he walks are impossible to mistake.

“oh! yeah, i see him now, thanks." you smile, and your chronic need to fill all silences forces you to add something more “i've really been wanting to see him play."

the woman turns her head toward you, looking at you with the same kind expression you see on her son's face every morning.

"believe me, if you were eager, he was even more so.” she says. “he won't stop talking about you."

and that sentence is enough to make you not say anything else for a while.

you started to suspect that you liked Isagi a couple of weeks ago, before your sudden disappearance —when you panicked because you had no way of contacting him to let him know that you had a family emergency. you’d been chatting since tuesday, at all hours of the day, every day until the game, and he hadn't pressed too much about what happened, probably so you wouldn’t feel bad. from what you could gather, he had been waiting for you every day —but nothing serious, really, don’t worry about it.

taking into account what you already knew about him, you assumed he'd been sitting at the table with the breakfast set, waiting for you all three days of the week. just imagining it made you want to scream into your pillow —he was so kind it made you sick. it made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

that's why you begged your parents to let you return to tokyo for at least a couple of hours that monday afternoon, because, according to you, claiming you’d left something really important at the apartment and needed to pick it up to finish your proyects. you’d run to the campus cafeteria with half your savings in your wallet, a bright green post-it note with your number written on it, and a message for the waitress.

thank god it worked, and you got a text from Isagi the next day. for a solid second, you truly thought you'd messed up completely —and that isagi hated you.

just when you were starting to process the fact that you really liked him.

because you like him. of course you like him.

more than halfway through the school year, things had started to get a little complicated for you —living alone for the first time, not having any really close friends in the city, having to navigate the capital on your own. sure, you may be a sociable and outgoing person, but sometimes everything felt too big. even for you.

and then you met isagi.

being with him is easy. talking with him is easy. feeling better, comfortable, and safe with him is easy. there came a point over these past months when you’d go to bed thinking about seeing him the next day —and he never failed. every morning, he was there, waiting for you with a coffee, a piece of toast, and a smile that started sending a weird tingling into your stomach the moment saw it.

it only took one night of facetime with your best friend back home to realize that a simple friend doesn't make you smile like a fool just thinking about them.

that, and disappearing for a whole week only to come back with a gesture straight out of an american teen romcom definitely isn’t just friends behaviour, you’d say.

a gesture straight out of a teen romcom. a smile escapes you just thinking about it, and you have to bite your lower lip so no one —not the couple next to you, at least— will notice.

but that’s exactly what you look like, right? the main characters of a movie.

you check all the boxes, if you think about it —you met in the university cafeteria every morning and started talking to share a breakfast set because —surprise— you were perfectly compatible. it became a tradition for both of you, to the point you only looked forward to seeing the other every week. then, suddenly, you disappear for a whole week when everything’s going fine, and he has no way to contact you. very convenient for the plot. but really, you hadn’t thought about exchanging socials, since you saw each other every other day anyway.

thankfully, you managed to give him your number through the cafeteria waitress.

and now you’re at a soccer match, wearing the first blue thing you found in your mother’s closet —a scarf way too warm for a summer day, but the only thing that could pass as team merch— to show your support. his parents are sitting next to you in the stands after saving you a seat. to top it all off, it's a perfect sunny day.

what’s the next thing? a goal dedicated to you?

oh. well. mental note —you think to yourself, snapping back to reality as isagi’s mother grabs your arm excitedly— don’t be sarcastic with the universe ever again.

because, right after spiraling with thoughts of the guy you like for about fifteen whole minutes, you might suddenly find yourself standing in front of your blue seat with your hands up, that guy’s mother pulling you to your feet. your hand grips the railing of the stands, your voice drowned among the crowd’s victory screams —and your gaze searches the field for the one who just scored the first goal of the game.

don’t be sarcastic with the universe again, because when your eyes land on number eleven from the blue team, you might surprise yourself by widely smiling and joining the choir of voices chanting his name, your voice blending into the roar as his teammates lift him in celebration.

and maybe —just maybe— your gaze meets his. and as he grabs his jersey by the number and presses a kiss to it, he points straight at you and mouths, this one’s for you.

or that’s what you think he says. you can’t really hear him from up here, and now everyone’s eyes are on you, and you honestly have no idea how to react.

the match continues, thankfully, and you sit back down without having to say anything. the crowd’s attention returns the field — though you’re pretty sure isagi’s mother is still watching you, but you’re not brave enough to turn and confirm it.

isagi yoichi just dedicated a goal to me. okay. fine. that’s completely fine and means nothing.

except you don’t feel fine at all. and you’re pretty sure it does mean something.

so this time, for real, you put all your attention on the match —because, if you’re honest, you have no idea of what’s been happening on the field since the game started. you try to follow the ball and recall all the plays isagi has described to you so many times. it’s a bit difficult, though, considering you never really understood them and mostly nodded along just because you liked seeing him light up while talking about the things he loves.

yeah. maybe you’ve been down bad for longer than you thought.

as your eyes lock onto number eleven again, you start to regret not paying attention earlier.

he’s a bit far from you now, waiting on the side of the field for a pass or a chance to steal the ball, while his teammate —the one with the blond streaks— skillfully advances with it, weaving through the opposing team. but you can see him clearly.

he looks focused, deep blue eyes fixed on the ball as it draws closer, his jet-black hair waves slightly in the breeze, a few damp strands clinging to his forehead. his mouth is parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of fast-paced breathing from running so much. his athletic shorts hug tightly around his thighs, muscles flexing as he starts to sprint after the now clear ball.

you swallow hard and blink a few times, trying to snap out of it. you're not the one who's been playing for nearly half an hour, but you're pretty sure you need a drink of water more than any of the players.

holy shit. since when is yoichi so hot?

you scratch the back of your neck nervously —a tic you’ve picked up from him—, eyes glued to the field. your face is hot and red, and you know it’s definitely not your too-warm scarf’s fault at all.

still, you can’t look away. you always knew he was handsome —way before you ever gathered the courage to talk to him—, but this is different. he looks confident, almost cocky. there’s a smug little grin when he steals the ball, raised brows when he blocks a goal, and the rest of the time he’s laser-focused, scanning the field. you can’t help but gulp every time his head turns toward the stands and his eyes land on you, even for just a second.

you don’t even catch what he’s yelling, both to his rivals and his teammates —probably not compliments or pretty words, judging by the way the crowd and even his parents react— because it’s impossible to focus on what he’s saying when he looks so aggressive and somehow so attractive doing it.

or maybe you just like him too much, and everything he does seems attractive..

either way, it doesn’t matter —because then he scores again, and the crowd erupts. you do too, but not because the scoreboard now reads 3-0, securing the win thanks to number ten’s earlier goal. no.

you turn bright red when, right after scoring, the striker looks straight at you —at your seat— with a confident, satisfied grin, and points at you again.

your legs actually tremble.

he’s driving you insane, and you’re pretty sure he knows it.

you're so caught up in whatever spell he has you under that, for the rest of the match, you don't process a single a thing —even though your eyes never leave him once.

you do a good job of being a fan, though.

you stand up with the crowd to clap and cheer when his teammates score two more goals —number 10, whose name is rin, as you've already learned, and the tall, white-haired boy, nagi. you even boo the other team when they get their first and only goal. you nod at all yoichi’s mother comments, who understands the game about as much as you do, and you smile politely at his father when he says something —which you mostly can’t hear over the crowd’s noise, but still respond to with an enthusiastic nod.

the heat gets intense enough that you’re forced to take your jacket off —not technically because of the weather, but no one but you needs to know that. by the end of the match, your jeans are rolled up and you’re left in just a tank top. but the scarf is still around your neck, and you make sure to adjust it carefully across your shoulders before following isagi’s parents down to the field once the crowd begins to disperse.

“what do you think, yn? isn’t he good?” his father asks.

it’s the first time you can actually make out what he’s saying —the crowd had been way too loud before, and you didn’t want to repeat “what?” twenty times, so you’d just nodded and smiled.

“yeah, wow. he really is.” you answer, walking a little awkwardly between the two of them. you’re not even sure when exactly they managed to surround you “i understand now why you said he’s considered one of the best strikers in japan. i mean, he’s told me a lot about soccer, so i knew he had to be good just from how much he knows… but, wow. he’s amazing.”

“yes, he is.” his mother adds, flashing you a wide smile.

you meet her gaze and mirror the expression, and you know she means it when she says “we are very proud of him.”

his father nods in agreement, and something warm and fluttering blooms in your chest. it’s a weird feeling, being proud of someone just because you know others are proud of them too. feeling glad —relieved, even— that people see him and admire him the same way you do.

that’s love, you guess.

“he’s really thankful for you” you don’t know where it comes from, but you can’t stop yourself. “he’s told me a bunch of times. he loves you a lot.”

isagi’s mother’s smile softens, her right arm slipping around your shoulders. she adjusts your scarf gently, her fingers brushing your skin as she gives you a warm little squeeze.

“ah, we love him a lot, too.” she replies —then her kind smile shifts into something far too close to a teasing grin. “and something tells me we’re gonna love you a lot, too.”

you’re left completely speechless. you glance away quickly, unable to form a single coherent thought —let alone a response. what are you supposed to say when the mother of the guy you like basically gives you her blessing before you’re even official?

thankfully, isagi is finished talking to his coach and is now approaching you near the edge of the field.

“yocchan!” his mother calls out, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard —and removing her arm from around your shoulders in the process. “we’re here!”

you try to laugh at the nickname —you remember him confessing it to you a few mornings ago, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment— but you can’t. you can’t, because you’re speechless again.

yoichi walks towards you with slow, steady steps.

his face is flushed and glistening with sweat, and his eyes still burn with the thrill of victory—there’re still traces of the same pride and confidence he only ever shows when he’s on the field in his gaze. strands of hair cling to his forehead, and his shirt, damp with sweat, sticks tightly to his frame.

then he grabs the hem of his jersey with one hand and lifts it to his face to wipe off the sweat from his mouth and nose. you try not to stare —really, you try—, but your eyes flick down to his stomach, and then straight back up to his eyes.

he's so attractive you almost choke on air.

isagi's mother starts to take a few steps toward him, but before she can reach him, a small group of girls intercepts him —practically swarming yoichi with flirtatious smiles and compliments that , judging by their tone, probably end with a request for his number.

however, despite how confident he is on the field, isagi’s not like that off of it —he’s more on the shy side. and he clearly has no interest in them at all.

he thanks them politely, as best he can, then awkwardly escapes the circle of attention they’ve trapped him in, practically jogging over to where his parents —and you— are waiting for him.

you know he's nervous when his hands goes to the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

it's funny how the silence is broken not by him, but by the same group of girls from before.

“i have no idea who that is.” one of them says, voice pitched just loud enough to be heard “maybe his sister? or his cousin, or something.”

you both burst out laughing at the interruption—and the assumption— and just like that, the awkward tension fades, letting isagi finally speak.

“thanks for coming.” he says. “i thought you weren’t going to show for a second, when the match started and i didn’t see you.”

“yeah, had a little subway confusion, so…”

“no! no, i didn't mean it like a complaint or anything —just an observation. i’m really glad you made it.”

you smile softly.

“yeah, i’m really glad i came, too.”

he smiles back, and suddenly, it feels like the first day again, when neither of you knew what to say after that first hi.

you swallow hard, blink, and then break the silence.

“you were… fuck, you were amazing out there.”

you’re staring at him —a little too openly. and then it hits you: you’re not alone. “oh! i mean- i mean, you were, wow, amazing out there.” you correct yourself quickly, glancing at his parents beside you.

his father chuckles.

“don’t worry. after all the things he’s shouted on the field, a simple fuck is nothing.”

your face burns red —redder than the opposing team’s jerseys— while both his parents laugh.

and you expect isagi to laugh too, or brush it off like he did with the girls earlier. but, instead, he blushes, and looks at you with that small, lopsided smile that makes your chest ache.

then he looks away again, ruffling his hair.

there’s your breakfast partner again. not the star athlete —just the cute guy from the cafeteria that studies psychology and plays soccer.

"thanks. you, uh..”

he glances at his mom, who subtly gestures, nudging him to say more —like this is something they’ve rehearsed.

"you look very pretty today.” he finally says.

then he adds, quickly:

“i mean, you always do —not just today. but you look specially pretty today." and he’s babbling again "that blue scarf looks great on you. but, uh, you also look kind of like you’re suffocating?”

you laugh. if only he knew it’s not the weather, but him, what’s making your face so red.

"i remembered uni's color was blue” you explain, fingers fidgeting with the end of the scarf. “didn’t have any merch, so i just tried to support you with whatever i had at home.”

what you don’t mention is that you stole it from you mom’s closet back in your hometown, after having a full-blown crisis over not owning anything remotely close to your college’s colors.

“well, i could give you something.” he offers, voice low and a bit nervous. “i have a few spare jerseys at home."

you’re about to answer —or collapse, honestly, because you’re pretty sure this is the kind of things official couples do in cliché romantic movies— but then his mom cuts in:

“speaking of that —why don’t you come over, yn?” she asks. “i made yocchan’s favorite meal today. have lunch with us? he told us you live alone, so there’s no issue, right?”

you start to understand where isagi got his talent for yapping.

“we’ll get to know you better, yoichi thanks you for coming to the game, and he gives you his jersey."

your brain becomes a chaotic mess of thoughts. you want to say yes, obviously. you want to thank her for the invitation. you want to ask isagi what giving you his jersey means. you want to see his room and his house, but you also kind of want to run back to your place, dive onto your bed, and scream into a pillow.

isagi misreads your hesitation.

"mom, she might have plans. don’t pressure her—"

"no, no, i’d love to go!" you interrupt quickly.

yoichi raises a brow, clearly surprised —he knows you don’t really like his favorite dish. you’ve been bickering about it for weeks.

"thank you for inviting me."

"you heard her, yoichi, she said yes.” his mom beams. “now go shower, you’re still red from the match. you’ve got fifteen minutes, meet us at the car. meanwhile, yn and us have lots to talk about.”

somehow, she doesn’t make it sound like a threat, more like an invitation.

drawing a smile, isagi mumbles a soft "sorry" before heading to the locker room. as he walks away, you call out: “i´ll be fine. i think she likes me."

isagi’s smile is wide and bright right before he disappears through the locker room door. he’s so wrapped up in his own joy —so stupidly in love— he doesn’t even notice the trap he’s just walked into.

inside, the locker room is already full. his teammates are waiting, ready to tease him.

"i have some spare jerseys" karasu mocks, his voice high-pitched, grinning wide. "i could give you one”

isagi throws his towel at him.

"oh, shut up”

"nah, thats a good move, isagi" otoya chimes in “i've done that a bunch. nothing makes me play better than having a cute girl with my number on in the stands”

isagi doesn't love the comparison. otoya is famous for rotating girls every match —and that’s so not him. definitely not with you.

he wants you at all his games. he wants you to be the only one ever, actually. for everything. only you, even if it seems too intense.

"its not like that" isagi says "i really like her. like… marry-her-like-her. having-kids-with-her-like-her. celebrate-christmas-with-her-like-her. ”

otoya blinks.

"huh? well, i like all my girlfriends a lot too.”

isagi doesn’t respond —mostly because chigiri and reo immediately jump into a debate with otoya about how what he just said is probably offensive to, like, every girl in the country. and in the world.

still, one word lingers in his mind.

girlfriend.

yeah. he wouldn’t mind calling you that at all.

masterlist.

tags ౨ৎ @ireallylikemenalot @rohfulike @numberonenessandnagistan @blu3-l0v3r .ᐟ (i tagged everyone who asked for the part 2, hope u dont mind <3 tell me if u want me to remove u from the list no prob!!)

﹫luvseisagi, june 2025.

#archive 📁. ۶ৎ #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x you #isagi #isagi yoichi #isagi x you #isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #blue lock isagi #bllk isagi #yoichi isagi

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yunhoszn · 1 year ago

Text

save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside.

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence.

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life.

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story.

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes.

And then your grandparents decided to retire.

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time.

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres.

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later.

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty.

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh.

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked.

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable.

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave.

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention.

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear.

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops.

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself.

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives.

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope.

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again.

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby.

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years?

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good.

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate.

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache.

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog.

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought.

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now.

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore.

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other.

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency.

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening.

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else.

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance.

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet.

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath.

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.”

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…”

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague.

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong.

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects.

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage.

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine.

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air.

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own.

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own.

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have.

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric.

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse.

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain.

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal.

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen.

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself.

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple.

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there.

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide.

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool.

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now.

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?”

“‘You turn me on.’”

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad.

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?”

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs.

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it.

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him.

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release.

I saw the way he was looking at you.

I saw how you were looking at him, too.

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho.

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it.

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place.

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work.

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to.

And then you came here.

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same.

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role.

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go.

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches.

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?”

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters.

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away.

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else.

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different.

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you.

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you.

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop.

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry.

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top.

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him.

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief.

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special.

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there.

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it.

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure.

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now.

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own.

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more.

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat.

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second.

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again.

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way.

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt.

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand.

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble.

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams.

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core.

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips.

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off.

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force.

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth.

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies.

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts.

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.”

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below.

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created.

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter.

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day.

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

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zepskies · 15 days ago

Text

I've never actually done this before...

Reaching follower milestones has never really been my main goal here. I hopped over from Ao3 to the Tumblrverse two years ago to share my stories and see if I could connect more with any potential readers. What I didn't know was how amazing SPN (and adjacent Jackles fandoms) would be over here...

How much fun I would have expressing myself, challenging myself to write new things and grow as a writer, and getting to vibe with my readers and other amazing writers.

I now consider some of those special people my friends, and they continue to make my day better every time we interact — whether it's hyping each other up and fangirling in each other's comments and reblog comments, or talking about everything and nothing in our DMs. That support has gotten me through some rough times in the past two years.

So "celebrating" this milestone of over 5,000 followers is really just me saying THANK YOU to everyone who's supported me by reading, commenting, and reblogging my work, helping me brainstorm, giving me inspiration, or just simply being my friend! 💜

⋆˙⟡ WAYS TO PARTICIPATE:

Because you guys know I'm extra af 😂, there are 3 sections to choose from:

⟡ Ask Me Stuff

⟡ Summer Writing Challenge!

⟡ Mini Fic Requests

Ask Me Stuff:

⟡ Let's revisit these EOY Artist/Writer questions. Ask me any of them!

⟡ Ask me anything you want to know about my storyverses: Break Me Down, Unravel Me, Lost On You, Midnight Espresso, Smoke Eater, The Honorable Choice, Every Second Counts, Take Me Home, or any others!

Summer Writing Challenge:

If you're feelin' frisky and wanna join this summer writing challenge of less than 5,000 words before September 1, here's how to play...

💗 Gif Check: I'll send you a gif depending on the character you choose from the list below. Write a story that matches the vibe or completes the "scene." Just shoot me an ask with the character you want to write about, and request a gif!

🎨 Color Prompt: You choose a character from the list below. I'll choose a color palette for you based on what I think your aesthetic is!

🎙️ Songfic: Give me a character + a decade and/or genre of music, and I'll give you a song to match!

**Guidelines:

Submissions with pairings can be Character x Reader, Character x OC, or Character x Character.

(Please no RPF or Wincest.)

Include tags, notes, warnings if necessary - including if it's 18+

Please use the "Keep Reading" break if it's over 500 words.

Max word count 5,000 (for your sanity lol). Minimum 500 words.

Tag @zepskies (me) somewhere in the post.

Include this tag - #Zepskies 5K - within your first 5 tags.

Send me an ask until July 30! Post your fic by September 1.

I will of course read and reblog with my thoughts on your amazing work! If you get a chance, please try to do the same for others who participate. At the end, I will compile a master rec list of each fic submitted. 💜

Mini Fic Requests:

Uno Reverse! 🔄 For these drabbles (1,000 words or less), I will only answer non-anonymous asks so I can verify if you're over 18. Please make sure your age is listed in your bio! 😉

Check out the "characters I currently write for" down below. My inbox will be open for these types of requests from June 27 - July 4 only!

💗 Gif Check: Pick a character from the list and send me a gif! I'll do my best to write you a drabble that matches the vibe.

🎨 Color Prompt: I've been getting a lot of inspo from color aesthetics and moodboards lately. Pick a character from the list and a color. Any color! I'll do my best to write a drabble with that color scheme in mind.

🎙️ Songfic: Most people who know me know that I get a lot of inspo from music. Pick a character from the list and send me a song you think I'd like! I'll do my best to write a drabble that fits the song.

☕️ Characters I currently write for:

(or would like to write for)

⟡ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester - Supernatural ⟡ Soldier Boy - The Boys ⟡ Mark Meachum - Countdown ⟡ Beau Arlen - Big Sky ⟡ Russell Shaw - Tracker ⟡ Joel Miller - The Last of Us ⟡ Javier Peña - Narcos ⟡ Harry Castillo - The Materialists ⟡ Alec McDowell - Dark Angel ⟡ Jason Teague - Smallville ⟡ Boaz Priestly - 10 Inch Hero ⟡ CJ Braxton - Dawson’s Creek ⟡ Éomer, Aragorn, Haldir, Thranduil - Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

THANK YOU!! (Part 1)

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @waynes-multiverse @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@wvffles @tofics @kazsrm67 @mostlymarvelgirl

@chevroletdean - Thank you for giving me the idea for the "color" prompts and the guidelines for the writing challenge with your 500 follower celebration!

@winchestergirl2 @lacilou @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @waywardxwords

@twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @wayward-dreamer @waywardlatina

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@deanwinchesterswitch @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @jollyhunter @moodyquesadilla

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@siampie @spnbabe67 @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @redhoodieone

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @kmc1989 @foxyjwls007

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tiredsmashbros · 10 months ago

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SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

#smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg3 x smg4 #smg4 x smg3 #smg4 fanart #smg3 fanart #smg4 comic #smg34 comic #sketches #comic wip #comic #tsb 1k birthday party #tsb official

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kerink · 3 months ago

Note

‘Fucked up that Bill is HAPPIER in Margaritabill than he is in Bill Wins lmao’ PLEASE ELABORATE!

one core feature of bill's character that is stable and consistent in my characterization of him is that bill does not compromise. he wants what he wants and he wants it exactly when he wants it and exactly how he wants it. i've said it before in another analysis but it's apropos so i'll repeat it: bill grew up hearing only no, being only ever denied and rejected, and now that he's the one in charge he refuses to ever hear anything other than yes ever again.

this is important for understanding how i conceptualize what is actually happening for bill's story in each au.

margaritabille follows canon exactly up until the next summer. this means bill has already enacted weirdmagedon, regained control over ford, begun evacuating the nightmare realm, had been defeated, and died. bill wins, however, only follows canon up until gideon makes his final deal with bill. in bill wins, bill is able to do all the things margaritabille is able to, except more. so much more. he doesn't just enact weirdmagedon, he successfully subjugates gravity falls and prevents any rebel faction from forming. he doesn't just regain control over ford, he is able to get ford to submit with minimal fuss and complaint, taking his family hostage to ensure ford is more or less compliant and amiable. he doesn't just begin to evacuate the nightmare realm, he makes tremendous progress doing so.

in margaritabille, bill has lost everything. he has lost the nightmare realm, the henchmaniacs, his kingdom, his control, his influence, his capture of those with the ability to harm him. he is vulnerable. but in bill wins, bill has everything he wants. (well, not everything, obviously bill has bigger plans than just coming to our dimension. but outrunning entropy and gaining a physical form are required for him to achieve the rest of his goals. and now that he's done it, he has no reason to doubt there's anything left standing in his way but time.)

this, however, means that in margaritabille bill has nowhere to go but up, while in bill wins the entire story revolves around not just dethroning him but killing him for good. bringing entropy to him.

in margaritabille, bill has a lot more than he actually thinks he does. he's on earth and out of entropy's reach. he has a physical form. the pines tolerate him and ford is sometimes even nice to him. bill may think he's hit rock bottom, but he hasn't! and maybe, this time, on his rise to power, ford really will join him willingly, maybe the pines will understand his goals and won't rebel against him. maybe there's a way for him to have his cake and eat it too.

while in bill wins, even though bill has peaked more than margaritabille ever did, it's not the life he envisioned. they're still trapped in gravity falls and it's hard to fit all the nightmare realm citizens into one tiny place. even if bill had been king of the nightmare realm there are still other gangs and warring factions that butt heads and challenge him. he needs to manage all the big personalities until he can break open the rest of the dimension and give everyone their space back. ford may play along with him but he's dead-eyed and bitter, obviously puppeteered, reciting the lines he's memorized. if bill had wanted ford this way he would have just rewired his brain in the first place! no, he wants ford to want it, and he can't figure out how to make that happen. the pines are constantly rebelling against him, so he's having to play 5-d chess and mind games with each of them in different ways at different times and it's a headache to keep up with it all. this isn't the party he wanted, he's on-call 24/7. (although, dw, he's still doing a lot of partying, but it's more coping than celebrating.)

there's a light at the end of the tunnel in margaritabille. in bill wins, bill is rapidly hurtling towards the ground without a parachute.

in margaritabille, bill is grieving a future he never really had. he didn't take the massive loss that he will in bill wins. he will never lose as much in the first as he does in the second. margaritabille is about how no matter the hardship, no matter the struggle, no matter the suffering, there is always a tomorrow for those willing to watch the sunrise.

in bill wins, bill is grieving a present he never got. it's a be careful what you wish for situation. he is fucking around and will soon be finding out. the more he tries to force things into their proper place the more they warp and misshape and try to wriggle from his grasp.

in acceptance and commitment therapy there's a framework for understanding acceptance that i think characterizes the two story lines well. in order to accept something you must be willing; we experience suffering because often we are instead willful.

willingness is the ability to say yes to life, however it comes. the example i give my patients is marriage: you know you and your partner will fight, you know you will both get sick, you know one of you will die first, but you marry them anyway because not having them at all is worse than having them bad parts and all. you are willing to live through pain in order to live through joy. i recently told a patient in order to have memorable experiences with friends you will also have funerals.

willfulness, on the other hand, is living life conditionally. it's trying to draw a perimeter and put up walls between you and what you will and won't accept. one metaphor for this i like is the shoe problem: you buy a pair of shoes online, they arrive and you discover they don't fit. if you are willing to accept the pain and frustration of this experience, then you're able to move forward to resolve it: can you return them? can you exchange them? if not, do you know someone they will fit you can give or sell them to? can you sell them online? can you donate them? if you are willful, however, then you will not admit there's a problem. in avoiding the disappointment of not getting something you really wanted and were looking forward to you force your feet into shoes that don't fit, you put them in your closet to collect dust.

in margaritabille, bill is moving towards willingness. not intentionally, not purposefully, but simply through conditioning. he's squatting in the shack and is unwelcome, he is aware of this. ford still has the means to kill or banish him, he is aware of this. if he toes too much out of line, the comfort and safety he has taken for himself will be his undoing. in order to live at the shack and be tolerated by the pines and build rapport with ford, bill must be willing to give up some of his control. he has to stop attempting to dominate the world and subjugate the pines, because if he does ford will just shoot him and that'll be the end of it. bill knows he has a good thing going here and he's not going to jeopardize it. he knows there is a future for him, he just has to grieve his loss and get back on his path.

in bill wins, bill is willful to a T. he will only accept the dimension, earth, gravity falls, the pines as he wants them. he doesn't understand why the nightmare realm citizens are behaving in ways that cause him headache, he doesn't understand why ford is faking it, he doesn't understand why he's trapped. he knows why, but it's not how this story was supposed to go and he will keep slamming the pieces on the table until they fit in the puzzle where he believes they're meant to be.

and he will lose everything, and he will suffer the whole time he does.

#gravity falls #margaritabille au #bill wins au

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penvisions · 3 months ago

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stages of devotion {pink and purple}

Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Baker! Reader

Summary: Valentine's Day genuinely drives you insane, but you thrive on it until the energy that surrounds other holidays. And this year? This year you have Joel Miller in your life.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: canon typical language, angst, strained family dynamic, feelings of inadequacy, miscommunication, single dad joel, triggers associated with the food industry, illusions to smut, let me know if i missed any but this is pretty tame

A/N: oops, this is insanely late. but it's done and it helped me through day three of organizing my personal life from my bed, where i'm kind of stuck right now. love y'all!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

Most holidays are made up, or at least so far removed from their historical roots in order to commercialize them for the masses- the jaded thought crossed your mind as you hit submit on a massive order from your main vendor. The espresso sours in your mug, the milk separated from sitting for too long pulls your face into a disgusted frown as you look down into it. It was hours ago now that you made it, your stomach and head telling you it needs caffeine and sustenance; and quick if your headache was any indication.

Holidays were fun and kitschy, brought in a lot of money for the bakery, for your bank account and bills but it was so damn taxing. Three weeks out from the giant pink fluff ball that is Valentine’s Day and the crushing weight of the day sits heavy on your shoulders. But you smile despite it as you shut down the computer set up in the small office, grab your cardigan from

Joel did his best to change your mind on that front with his proposal to find more time for each other in your hectic lives. And it’s been working out pretty well so far. The last two months has been a blur of frantic kisses and coffee runs for the crew here at the shop, of last-minute dates spent eating take out in his truck after his shift ends and before your early bed time.

Another date is tonight, but this time you both share a meal sitting at an actual table and wine poured into large, stemmed glasses. It helps to keep you upbeat for another two weeks, the prep for the holiday pulling you in one direction and a contracted job on the outskirts of the city pulling Joel in another. The memory of the night flits through your mind, your body feeling light and a little warm as you recall the way he hadn’t been able to wait until you up the stairs that leads to further into your apartment…

What you wouldn’t give to see that side of him a little more, the desperate, needy man that is hidden beneath the hardworking, loving, devoted one he is all of the time…

But this week, there’s absolutely no time for anything other than frosting, sprinkles, and batter. Because on Friday, it’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve got a stack of cake orders that equal to one hundred, cupcakes, chocolate strawberries, cookies, fruit tarts, and everything in between. Thankfully you live in the space above the shop, otherwise there would be no way for you and Callie to get it all done. The air in your lungs was more powdered sugar and flour at this point than plain old oxygen, but it’s a small price to pay for the record sales you make every year.

This year, you have a goal in mind for the extra income. The hourly you would normally earn from the week of prep and the day itself- it’s going to go toward helping Joel get Sarah into the summer soccer camp she has her eye on. It’s upstate, the first time she will be away from her father for so long. But the way she went on and on about it at a family dinner with just the three of you, one shared look with the man across the table and you knew you had to help anyway you could to make it happen.

The phone rings just as you place a piping bag down, metal tip on a strategically placed parchment paper to avoid making an even bigger mess atop the cluttered counter. Wiping your hands on the damp towel hanging from the tie of your apron, you reach for it.

“Sugar ‘n Spice, how may I help you?”

“Well, hey there, sweetheart. Been tryin’ to reach you.” The familiar, deep voice of one Joel Miller filters over the line.

“Joel! Oh no, my phone probably died, it’s in the office somewhere underneath the order printouts. I’m so sorry.” Blowing out a wobbly sigh, you realize you can’t see it from where you’re at the counter and lean over to glimpse inside the door.

“No need to apologize, I understand how hectic it is over there. Sarah said it was a lot going on.” You can sense his mood over the phone, tired and a little stressed. You can picture him clenching and unclenching the hand not holding the phone, or rubbing at the back of his neck and digging his fingers into the hair that’s beginning to curl there.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy. Just trying to build the cakes I can and get them in the freezer with a crumb coat. Gonna decorate once they’re all sorted out.” You ramble to try and counteract it, but you know that you’re more than likely just coming off as manic as your voice fills the space of the bakery kitchen over the music you play at a low volume. Callie is out handling the front counter, training the morning person on the specials and how to answer flavor profile questions for everything.

“Listen, sweetheart, I hate to do this to you…” Your heart sinks, voice trailing off as your chest coils tight- Joel’s energy transferring to you over the line.

“Sarah came down with somethin’, had to leave the job site to get her from school. She’s holed up in her room and won’t be able to make it in for her shift later. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I hope she’s okay, does she need anything? I can make soup or bring over some stuff from here to help cheer her up?” You’re spiraling, you know you are. And Joel’s next words feel like a stab to the gut.

“No, no, that’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got it all covered over here, we’ll get this to break. You don’t need to worry about us,” Your hearing tunnels out, his deep gravely voice distant as you respond to him with deflated words you would not be able to repeat since they don’t really even register past the line clicking off and the dial tone that mimics a flatline on a heart monitor.

It might as well be, because you’re sure your heart just broke at the implication that you didn’t need to worry about the two most important people in your life. Titles and circumstances don’t change that Joel is a single parent, that he takes his responsibility so seriously because Sarah is his lifeline and always will be. Your own father barely acknowledged you growing up, and now that you’re in the food industry he continues in his steadfast ignorance of your existence. Your brother taking the spotlight, the favorite alongside your younger sister who they dote on endlessly. In that moment, you feel like an outsider and an overlooked daughter all in one. And you don’t like it, so you bury your hurt feelings in the frosting bag you refill and continue piping the countless cakes on the speed racks surrounding you well into the night.

A week goes by with no Joel. Sarah out for her three shifts she works after school on the days she doesn’t have soccer practice. You’re trying to unload the pallet that the driver was insistent on leaving in the dining room of the bakery, a new person who you’ve never seen before. Normally, Rick is the one who has the route with your shop on it and he always stays for a cup of coffee and a sweet roll after unloading the delivery directly into the walk in and kitchen for you. You miss him, feeling the weird energy wafting off the new guy and the loss of your almost friend as you want for personal interaction after being alone and holing up in the kitchen- you haven’t been sleeping, and you feel more than a little pathetic. Still.

The phone turned to silent as you throw yourself into the holiday prep, pink and white and red swirling even behind closed eyelids. Just as your cheeks puff with a deep breath and the thud of the last bag of flour onto the stack you keep organized by date, moving the ones just delivered to the bottom, the bell chimes in front of the bakery.

The pressure of the holiday is firmly on your shoulders, people picking up their orders begins in an hour, leaving you very little time to be frustrated with the actions of the new delivery guy. Frosting needs to be made for the last rack of cakes, royal icing for the cookies that people can come in and request names on, chocolate drizzle for the strawberries that are already coated in their shells, but all of it will fly off the shelves, off the racks and through the city until the very second you lock the door promptly at six pm, maybe even a little bit later if people are queued up or last minute pop ins.

Joel hovers in the doorway to the kitchen space, his form filling the empty frame well. He’s got an almost shy expression about him and an armful of flowers while a small bag hangs from around two thick fingers.

“I locked the door, I know you ain’t really open yet.” Is how he announces himself after a moment of watching you move the wooden pallet to lean against an empty wall by the door that leads up to your personal space. You jump and spin around with a hand to your heart, the footsteps thought to be of the man he’s berates with his next words. “Delivery guy left it wide open, didn’t recognize him but he was pretty rude when I said I knew you.”

“Joel!” You place your other hand to the counter in front of you and lean over to gather your breath back, aware of him placing the items in his hands down atop it before they settle on your back in a comforting, familiar gesture.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His voice rumbles over you, so close. Closer than he’s been in the past week, just missed calls and texts checking in with you- knowing you were beyond busy with the shop. “We got your delivery, Sarah is feeling a bit better and scarfed it down quick.”

“Oh, um, good.” You shrug off his hands and stand to your full height, eyes bouncing around- never landing on him.

“Did…did I do somethin’?” He’s straight to the point, knowing that there’s no need to mince words, not when it was you- not when it was him and you together. Clear communication, clear intentions. Or so he thought.

“No, I just- you know what, yeah, you did something,” The bite in your words is sharp, digging into a confused and exhausted Joel. “You cut me out! ‘I’ve got it all covered’. Well, newsflash, Joel, I got it all covered myself. I’ve got an insane day ahead of me, so please, just-just go.”

He says your name, tone pleading as he reaches out for you, but you take a step back, eyes finally landing on him.

“I get it, it’s just you two against the world. I really do, you’re a great father, a good man- of course you are. But you need to please, just…” You trail off as you see the emotions swirl in his amber eyes- the dark brown catching the fluorescents of the kitchen since the sun is still dipped below the horizon.

Joel’s mouth opens, but the store phone rings once and then the answering machine clicks. Your father’s voice fills the tense air, adding another layer of anxiety and weight on top of your already aching shoulders.

Your mother and brother will be by in an hour to pick up some stuff, make sure to set aside some of the better lookin’ things, yeah? Don’t put anythin’ too absurd in the box, you know I don’t like that type of shit. Just plain and simple. You always do too much, stress yourself out for no goddamn reason.

That’s it, that’s the entire message. No greeting, no sign off, no mention of the holiday or your name or that he’s grateful for the free products. Just a command and a chastisement. Because charging your family once, that was enough of a humiliation to experience. The laugher and scoffing, the words ‘outrageous’ and ‘not worth that much’ echo in your head each and every time you input a new price into the computer system or handwrite a card for the display case.

“Go, please.” Your voice is small, but strong. The comparison of the man whose voice just spoke and Joel standing in your kitchen too much to handle right now.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll go,” He motions to the bouquet of flowers and the bag still on the counter closest to him. “Those- those are for you, for Valentine’s Day, cause I thought…cause you’re my girl.”

He doesn’t sound so sure, his words rising at the end of his sentence as if questioning it in that very moment, despite the time he put forth in choosing the items. His eyes are questioning too, as he connects them with yours. But all you can offer him is a trembling bottom lip and a tight nod of your head.

He doesn’t ask you to call him and you don’t say that you will.

You’re surrounded by pink even as your heart darkens purple, as if bruised by every strained interaction with your family, aching and lighting up in the way of this…rut with the man that turns around and disappears through the space you’ve created for yourself.

The door is opening before you even raise your hand to knock.

Joel stands there with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, the smell of cooking food wafting through the open door. He looks so goddamn hopeful as his eyes rove over your form, straight from the bakery where you had finally locked the door behind the last patrons. Frosting and sprinkles splotch your apron, oil darkening spots on your jeans and shines on your hands as you hold the necklace unearthed from pretty tissue paper and a simple jewelry box.

It’s gold. With the imprint of a tent right in the middle of the flat pendant.

“Joel…”

He’s ushering you inside just as the tears begin to trail down your cheeks, warmth moving up your neck from your chest to burn hot behind blurry eyes.

“It wasn’t supposed to make you cry, it was- it was supposed to make you smile.” He whispers as if berating himself for messing up the one day he promised himself he would make a good one.

“Their hap-happy tears,” Your voice warbles out, hands reaching for him as he turns around from closing the door, wrapping around his neck. You burrow your head into his chest and breathe him, his own coming around you to hug you tight to him. The gold of the necklace is cold where it swings across his neck and dips below the back collar of his shirt.

“Sarah’s mom left the day before the holiday, years ago,” The confession, the reason- it’s muffled where he buries his own face in your hair, smelling the sweetness of powdered sugar and vanilla. A perfume that lingers on your skin from the shop, even on your days off, a part of what makes him so enamored by you. The undertones of amaretto, of cherry- it’s his favorite scent in the world ever since your encounter months ago- a tent and a night of passioned shared between you two. The beginning of the connection you two share, despite everything.

“She always gets a little…melancholic I guess is the right word, this time of year. And with her getting’ her, uh, monthly right before we met- it’s been a tough couple of months for her to see all ‘o her friends turn to their moms for help with stuff she’s goin’ through.”

“I-I didn’t know,” You feel selfish, for feeling the way you do. None of it comparing to the way a child feels the loss of such an important figure in their life, a literal parent- you know all to well how much it can affect someone. Your own mother staying in the car this morning while your brother rolled into the shop like he was the reason it was standing, demanding the things he ‘had to make an insane drive for at the ass crack of dawn’ without so much as a smile or a thank you. Gone in the blink of an eye, your mother not even bothering to look into the bay windows from where she primly looked over whatever was in her lap.

“Not your responsibility to know, it’s…unless...unless you want it to be?” Joel sounds nervous, unsure of himself- such a stark contrast to how he normally speaks. He’s leaning back, large hands moving to your neck as you look up at him, his fingers gently prodding at the sensitive underside of your chin. His eyes are so deep as they scan over your face. A smudge of frosting dried high on your cheek as you feeling a little more than self-conscious.

“Wh-what do you mean?” The words are a whisper. Mind working overtime as you strip his own down to figure out what exactly it is he’s saying.

“If you were…my girl, my girlfriend…we could- we could manage it together. She adores you, asks after you when you ain’t been around for a few days or she’s not workin’ alongside you. She…she wants you in her life mor’n I’ve seen with anyone. But I’m terrified of makin’ more mistakes. Especially with her.”

Your brow furrows, lips thinning into a straight line.

“Mistake?”

“I’m not callin’ this-“ He dips down to kiss you chastely, to calm himself as much as you. “You ain’t a mistake, you’re…you’re everythin’ I’ve never let myself want, she’s been the priority. But I want to be selfish, want you in my life, sweetheart. Permanently.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” You confess, memories of half formed relationships bubble up, feelings of being the one that people turn to or ask after when others say no. Of situations that fizzle out in the blink of an eye and never on your account. “No one’s ever asked that of me before.”

“I’m not asking it of you, I’m offerin’ it to you. Lemme be your first, please. I-I’ll do right by you, better than this past week has been, I promise.”

Your heart soars, the weight you carry in it lightening at the earnest way he speaks. And then you’re closing the gap to press your lips firmly to his.

More happy tears warming your cheeks- you’re kissing your first ever boyfriend.

His lips are velvet soft against you, tongue hot where it slips between your own to ignite sparks all over your skin. You moan into his mouth, swallowing the heady sound he makes in response. You’re about to pull him closer when a timer dings and you nearly jump out of your skin.

He parts with a chuckle, hands trailing slowly as he distances himself from you and moves toward the oven. The towel still over one broad shoulder acts as a barrier for his hands as he folds it just so to take a deep pan out of the oven once the timer is silenced. The smell of garlic and herbs fills the space with a fuller sense, and you realize that he’s made lasagna. An offhand comment made a few weeks ago lamenting the lack of a truly good finding in the city.

“Sarah and I put it together, we were kinda hoping you’d be by tonight after the shop closes. But she’s off at a sleepover now, guess she sensed things were a little…strained.”

He doesn’t let you help, instead you’re gently ushered into a chair at the dining table with a glass of wine while he carefully plates up two portions alongside some roasted brussel sprouts and garlic bread. When he finally sits down beside you, he takes one of your hands in his and kisses the top of it, a bashful smile playing at the corner of his lips. His eyes flash to the pendant hanging around your neck, carefully clasped by his own hands before he set to bustling around the kitchen.

“I don’t cook much, so it might be shit honestly, but Sarah got the recipe from one of her friend’s moms. Say’s she was born in Italy and it’s the real deal. Family recipe and all that.”

It’s amazing, but even if it was merely an okay rendition, the fact that he put so much effort into it would’ve made it so. You tell him just as much as you stand from your spot after the last bite and settle over his lap with a confidence that buzzes underneath your skin. Steadying hands grip your hips as you press into him and make out like a couple of teenagers right there in the kitchen, but when you rock once, twice, three times against the hardness you feel beneath the denim of his jeans the world suddenly shifts as he picks you up like you weigh nothing.

His drawling voice dips dirty promises are peppered into your skin with sucking kisses, your excited giggles and whining moans echo through the house as he carries you up the stairs and into his room.

He makes good on every single promise pressed into your skin, until you’re both gasping and panting, bodies spent and limbs exhausted.

Wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled beneath the sheets- warm, safe, and loved for exactly who you are and nothing more or nothing less. You smile as you hear the soft snores as Joel drifts off and shift just a little more securely into the plush bed, because you feel like you could float away. Happiness warms you just as his body does around you and you bite into your bottom lip to keep a giddy giggle contained.

Joel Miller is your boyfriend.

Words that slipped past a gasping breath while he was deep inside you moments before flare brightly, as if branded into the skin of your chest, curved around your heart.

You’re mine, you hear me? Mine.

taglist: @dontknow446 @copperhalfcent @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox

@mareagirls @insidethegardenwall @wintersquirrel @pastelpinkflowerlife

@yxtkiwiyxt @here-briefly @pedroswife69 @lotusbxtch @amyispxnk

@for-a-longlongtime @burntheedges @tonysopranosrobe @littlemisspascal

@the-mandawhor1an @picketniffler @lizard-zombie @brittmb115

@stevie75 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @wildesights @cheekychaos28

@its-nebuleuse @cas-readsandwrites @punkshort @jessthebaker

@mosssbawls

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enwoso · 1 year ago

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changed | arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #alessia russo #leah williamson #lia walti x reader #kim little #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #beth mead #steph catley #enwoso #england wnt #england women #england

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pinkhoneydrop · 1 year ago

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LoveIsland: EpisodeOne

Welcome to week one in the villa I’m so happy to see everyone together. I hope you’re ready to spend the summer getting flirty and maybe a little feisty. Keep your goal in mind throughout the week when you make your choices!! - Liz

BIG SHOUTOUT TO @finelinepie THANK YOUUU SOOOO MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU SO HARD!!!!!!

///

You didn't think you would be this nervous when you signed up. You had been a fan of the show for a while and got an ad to apply. At first the idea of charity seemed like a good cause to objectify yourself but after some deliberation with friends you quickly realized that you craved the dramatization of the show.

… “You might find the love of your life, you never know.” Your best friend sat across from you in a local cafe. You explained to her the email you received inviting you to join the show this season.

“What if I regret it?” You laughed at yourself as you leaned back in the cafe chair. A lump formed in your stomach from just thinking about what you had done.

Sending in your audition tape while drunk after a night out was probably not the best idea.

“Promise me you'll go and try it out. Try and find a man or even just get laid. You need it and if anything, you leave with a shit ton of money. What's the harm in that?” ...

Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you would fall into a whirlwind romance with your dream guy. But you might not either and that was fine. Living with your best friend forever if you ended up embarrassing yourself on national television was also fine? Right?

For a while before the cameras started up you sat by yourself. All the contestants had their own vans with an obstructed view of the villa. South Africa was a long way from home. The lush landscape and harsh temperature added to the anxiety of meeting everyone you would be spending the summer with. You leaned back in your chair and closed your eyes trying to prepare yourself. A knock on your trailer door and a high-pitched voice alerted your senses.

“Need you all in 5.”

“Here we go.” you whispered to yourself. You looked in the mirror and adjusted yourself. You were wearing your favorite color and felt like you would never truly be ready, so you fluffed your hair and exited your trailer. Three other girls exit as well. The three of you walked along with some crew members to separate spots and each of you entered one by one to a mini bar. Palm trees lined the edge of the deck and tall tables stood in the middle between the bar and the end of the deck. You sighed as your turn came.

“Oh my gosh hi how are you I’m Leila.” A girl who was much taller than you with a head of dark curly hair smiled and greeted you as you walked towards the bar. “Wow, she's cheery. If everyone is like this then summer should definitely be fun.” you thought to yourself as you smiled at her. Not only was she cheerful, but she was also beautiful. A green bikini sat on her hips and wrapped around her shoulders. You chuckled nervously to yourself. Leila took notice and sparked up some casual conversation with you.

{cut to interview}

… “Hey, I’m Leila I’m 26 years old.” music played in the background as Leila spoke during her interview.

“Originally from just outside Manchester and I'm here to find the love of my life.” She smiles as a blush rises to her cheeks and giggles a little as the camera angle changes.

“The other girls better watch out; I've been known to be a bit feisty back home.” the music fades out and the camera returns to the bar…

{cut back to camera 3}

“It's so nice to see a friendly face first thing. I'm kind of nervous.” your smile weakens as you talk to Leila. Not too long after another girl walks in.

“Holy shit.” Leila says as the girl gets closer. You turn to have a look and almost pass out. Long tan legs leading up to the tiniest bikini bottoms that probably ever existed. Your eyes widened and you were lost for words. The girl spoke before you could even form a coherent thought.

“I’m Chloe.” Her voice was a bit high, but you supposed it might have just been all the traveling catching up to her. You watched as Leila gave her the same cheerful smile that she gave to you. Chloe gave a short smirk and twisted her neck to look at you next. Her blonde hair seemed to flow with her movement.

“Y/n.” You stuck your hand out as you introduced yourself. Chloe just looked at it and headed for the bar to get a cocktail.

“Gosh, a bit cold now, isn’t she?” Leila frowned as she watched her. You raised your brow and decided this might be a long summer.

{cut to interview}

… “Hii I’m Chloe I’m 25 from Glasgow and I’m just living life.” Music plays again as another interview starts.

“I love a good English boy who gives good chat and has pretty eyes.” Chloe winks and laughs at herself.

“If my girls would describe me in one word it would be...Maneater.” …

{cut back to camera 3}

“I hope I’m not the only one drinking today.” Chloe spoke as she set three glasses on the table in front of you. It was odd. At least you thought so, but you took the drink anyway hoping to calm yourself.

“Oh, I’ll absolutely take this, thank you, Chloe.”

“No problem girl.” A large smile graced her lips as she watched you drink.

“Guess I’ll have another one as well. Thanks.” Leila was polite enough to escape a glare from the blonde, but you immediately noticed the tension between them. “Interesting…”

Just before anyone could continue the conversation another girl walked into the villa.

{cut to third interview}

… “I’m Genevieve I’m 27 from Dewsbury but I live in LA currently.” The brunette was calm as she spoke and smiled at the camera.

“I’m trying to find work as a model. Navigating LA life is hard but navigating my love life is harder. I just seem to always find my worst match so hopefully it’s different here.” …

{cut to camera 2}

Her confident stride and striking appearance instantly drew everyone’s attention. Chloe, the first to react, sized her up with a quick, appraising glance before flashing her trademark bright smile.

“Well, look who decided to join the party,” Chloe said, her tone dripping with a mix of faux friendliness and thinly veiled competitiveness. Genevieve smiled graciously, taking in the room. “Hey everyone,” she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting.

“I’m Genevieve. I hope I’m not too late.” Leila, who had been nursing her drink, immediately stood up and walked over to Genevieve.

“Hi Genevieve, I’m Leila,” she said warmly.

“Nice to meet you. Want a drink?” Genevieve’s smile widened.

“Sure, I’d love one. Thanks, Leila.”

As Leila prepared a drink for Genevieve, Chloe leaned in closer to you. “Another model, huh? This should be interesting,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving Genevieve. You could sense the undercurrent of tension in Chloe’s voice but chose to stay neutral.

“Yeah, let’s see how things unfold,” you replied quietly, taking another sip of your drink. Leila returned with a drink for Genevieve, who accepted it with a grateful nod. “So, Genevieve, tell us a bit about yourself,” Leila encouraged, her genuine interest in breaking the ice.

“Well, I’m 27 and I’ve been living in LA for a few years now,” Genevieve began.

“I’m trying to break into modeling. It’s tough and I have to keep the lights on by serving, but I love the challenge. And, of course, I’m here to hopefully find the right guy.”

The other girls listened intently, some nodding in understanding. Chloe, however, remained somewhat aloof, swirling her drink thoughtfully.

“LA, huh? That must be quite a change from Dewsbury,” she commented, a hint of skepticism in her voice. Genevieve nodded, unfazed by Chloe’s tone.

“It is, but I love it. The energy, the opportunities—it’s all worth it.” Chloe smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, good luck to you babe. You’re going to need it.” Leila shot Chloe a disapproving look before turning back to Genevieve.

“Don’t mind Chloe. She can be a bit much sometimes as were learning,” she said with a wink. “We’re all here to find love, after all.” Genevieve laughed lightly, clearly not perturbed.

“Thanks, Leila. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you.”

You didn’t know how Leila did it. Keep up the niceties with all these women. The relationships right now were all surface. This is the time to be strategically quiet. Or in your case just nervously so. As the conversation continued, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by curiosity and a tentative camaraderie. The girls were eager to see how Genevieve would fit into the group dynamics, and despite Chloe’s initial frostiness, there was a sense of anticipation about what the next days would bring.

{cut to camera 1 in a wide shot panning over the girls and host}

“Hello ladies and welcome to the villa. We have you here today in this beautiful villa to hopefully find some love, friendship, or fortune. We have gathered you here on the lawn beside the pool deck to introduce you to the guys.” The sun was high in the sky as you stood on your marked spot. The girls lined up next to you all giggled and cheered at the introduction. You smiled along and tried to calm your nerves. Were they really about to just parade a bunch of hot guys around for you to ogle over? You looked to the right, and you saw Chloe and to your left you saw Genevieve and Leila. Not knowing too much about anyone yet you felt a little out of place. 6 weeks with these people and you would be competing with them the whole time. Not a single one of them seemed to share the nerves building in your body. The camera crew hustled about, and you stood to attention after adjusting your bikini bottoms on your hips.

{cut to camera 3 on the pathway}

“First we have Daniel Jones, he is from south London.” a blonde man with a toned physique who walked down the path leading to the pool deck where the host was standing. “He's cute.” you thought to yourself.

“How are you doing this morning Daniel?” the host turned to speak with him. The sun beat down on everyone but despite that the girls all smiled at Daniel.

“I'm doing great now that I have some eye candy to look at.” Daniel's words came out confidently as he smiled at each of you on your marks. He was definitely fit. Tan skin shining in the sun and a pair of navy-blue trunks on his waist. You eyed him from your spot, and he winked at you in acknowledgement. Heat manifested in your cheeks at the gesture.

“How are you today, ladies?” His voice was smooth, catching your attention and no doubt the other girls as well.

“Alright Daniel, go stand on that first mark and let's see the next guy, shall we?” The host smiled and turned to face the pathway.

The sun was high in the sky that morning as the next guy came out. All of the girls adjusted themselves as the cameras cut back and forth between them.

“Here we have Elias, he is from London but lives in LA. Elias, how are you?”

Elias was gorgeous. Dark hair sitting atop his head and muscles peeking out of darker skin that looked perfectly Sunkissed. He wore deep rust orange shorts and had his ears pierced. You blushed as he caught your eye and sent a small nod in your direction.

“I'm doing alright.” His voice was deep and gravely. You could only imagine what his personality was like as he stood at attention. A couple of the ladies snickered at one another, and Elias smirked at the attention he was getting. Just like Daniel, Elias moved to stand next to his mark.

“Ladies, how are we feeling about the selection so far?” The host spoke to all of you and garnered some exclamations from the whole group.

“The selection is fit; how can we complain?” Genevieve spoke up first. She was beautiful to look at and if you were one of the guys you definitely would want her to couple up with you. Long brown hair with highlights framing her face. As you were admiring her, your thoughts were interrupted by a rather whiney voice.

“Yeah exactly, but I have to say I'm excited for this special guest.” The next girl to speak was Chloe and she turned to give the other girls a light glare as if she were daring them to challenge her. Chloe was a natural blonde with green and brown eyes that peered into your soul. You made a mental note not to get in her way if you could avoid it.

The host continued on and introduced the next man to the group. All the ladies gave him their attention, as it seemed he was a crowd favorite as soon as he was in sight.

“Ladies, this is River Davis from Michigan.”

River was hot, you have to admit. Lighter hair shaved low on the sides and defined muscle tapering into his trunks. Your eyes traveled trying to find a decent place to look that wasn't suggestive.

“Nice to see you, River.”

River smiled at the host and took her hand for a light shake. Turning his attention to the ladies he kept his smile and stood up straight.

“Nice to see you too. Ladies, how are you all doing?” His voice was deep too. Elias might have some competition with this one you thought. All the ladies replied in various ways as the men stood on their marks.

“Before we get to coupling time, we have one more guest joining us. Our celebrity guest this season is…” honey smiled at the group as she paused for effect.

All the ladies waited with bated breath to hear and see who was coming out next. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw brown hair through the bushes.

“Harry Styles!” The host turned and began clapping.

Harry emerged from the trail looking amazing. Tan underneath his inked skin, Trunks resting low on his hips exposing the ferns and a freshly cut head of hair to match his mustache.

“Hello everyone, m’Harry.”

You almost melted after hearing his voice in person. There was just something about him that made you feel at home, and you didn't even know the guy yet. Did you want to get to know him? Part of you felt like maybe you shouldn't, like it would be better to remain a fan of his work and omit yourself from the possibility of him being an asshole.

First choice is coming next episode!!!!

The islanders

@chelseawgnr @rafesfavoritegirl @finelinepie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @unlikelystay @sarah-ev @playhousebunni @gem1712 @indierockgirrl @boldlycoolkitty @wherearethewatermelons @tpwkvickysblog @harrystylesconcepts @superiorfemme @vashapnin @sassamanda77 @henrysteelsmurryme @littlenatilda @devilsqueen722 @ashleighsss @b3ccaaa @x100preme @lomlolivia @fanfictioncafe @racshouse42 @crazygirlinthisworld @harrys-flower @bloodywickedlips @harryshousewitnessprotection @champagnepronlemsxxxx

@harryhad-alittlelamb

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #hslot 2023 #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader smut #Harry styles choose your own adventure #love island

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sleepynoons · 7 months ago

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THE NIGHT BY SOYOU (FEAT. GEEKS) – asakura shin (sakamoto days) x gn!reader, college!au, sfw

genre – fluff word count – ~2,300 warnings – suggestive content synopsis – plans have changed, and to your surprise, both you and your boyfriend shin are staying on campus over winter break. that means the two of you can spend christmas together, and you're excited to have him all to yourself!

Your room has never been cleaner. It’s a small studio, just a little over how much a college student living in Japan can afford, and usually, there’d be piles of clothes hanging on the backs of plastic chairs, plushies scattered across the floor – victim after victim to your devastating tossing and turning during the night –, scrap paper and ballpoint pens lying on every hard surface. But given that your boyfriend, Shin, will be staying with you for a week over winter break, you put in the effort to make your place look somewhat presentable and spacious enough for two people.

It’s not like he hasn’t come over before, but that was at the beginning of the school year in March when you had just moved in, and most of your belongings hadn’t arrived yet. At the time, the two of you barely knew each other; he only came to drop off some soldering tools that Natsuki, your mutual friend, had been holding onto for you, but from first glance, Shin looked absolutely adorable to you, and you knew you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. After a few months, thanks to many chance encounters on campus and several more deliberate efforts on your end to meet up (mainly never-ending text messages in all-caps to Natsuki demanding he set the two of you up), the two of you began dating towards the latter half of the summer.

That’s why you’re not only excited that he’s staying over, but it’ll also be your first Christmas together as a couple! Throughout the past week, you’ve been daydreaming for hours on end about all of the romantic, cheesy things the two of you can do together – cuddling while watching a movie in the dark, making hot chocolate together, waking early to a white Christmas, the list goes on. But, more importantly, you have a single goal for this Christmas, one that will change the progression and trajectory of your relationship, and you must accomplish it.

You’ll finally convince Shin to make out with you (and maybe do more)!

Aside from teasing pecks and soft smooches, the two of you haven't done more, and it almost pains you to admit that your relationship is still on first base. To be fair, it’s not like you haven’t pressed for more. Especially when the mood seems more heated, you always ask your boyfriend for more, at which he blushes furiously but shakes his head, refusing to give you what you need.

“I’m too nervous, and I don’t know how to,” he admitted once, begrudging and a little ashamed in tone. “You’re my first, so… I don’t really know what to do.”

At that, you backed off, not wanting to pressure him into doing something he’s not prepared for.

But it’s been months since that conversation, and your impatience is returning ten-fold. You’ve also noticed that, as of late, he’s been staring at your lips more, lightly panting under his breath whenever the two separate from a kiss, hands clenching and fisted at his sides whenever you lean a little too closely, as if he’s resisting some devilish temptation or desire.

Now that you have the chance, you have to ask him again, and if he lets you, you’ll teach him everything he has to know.

The doorbell rings, and you drop your phone down onto the kitchen counter and scramble over to the door. You fling the door open and spring forward, causing Shin to shout in surprise as you hug him.

“Shin!” you chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you release him.

He sets down his duffle bag with clothes, toiletries, and other necessities for the upcoming week onto the ground, while holding onto a small bag with a ribbon tying the handles together. He pecks you on the forehead before shoving the party bag at your direction. “Merry Christmas!”

You can’t help but yelp with delight, hands clapping vigorously, before you take it from him. You look back at him and, with a large, wide smile, ask, “I thought we weren’t going to exchange gifts?”

With a shy sigh, he rubs a hand behind his neck, ears tinged pink, as he explains, “It’s not really a present. Just some goods from back home since you’re letting me stay over.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, Shin!”

You fling your arms around your boyfriend again, embracing him tightly again, and you don’t let him go until you hear him wheezing for air.

Promptly, you let go before turning around and beckoning him with dramatic waves of your arms to follow after you. “Come in! Just make yourself comfortable!”

Shin chuckles before setting his duffle bag next to your bed before joining you in the kitchen. You’re pouring hot milk into two mugs, and he helps you drop marshmallow bits on top to complete the hot chocolate.

As you both sit down at your dining table, you ask him, “Are you feeling alright? I know this is your first Christmas away from home…”

Originally, your boyfriend was supposed to return home, but the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and it wasn’t safe anymore for him to drive home on his motorcycle. It’s quite obvious how much Shin’s family means to him – his phone wallpaper is of his two sisters, Lu and Hana, and he calls his parents every weekend. His brother, Heisuke, along with his pet bird Piisuke, often drop by as well. While you’re excited that the two of you can spend more time together, you’re worried that the tradeoff came at his loss.

Shin glances at you as he blows at the persistent steam rising from his cup. With a shrug, he says, “Oh, it’s not a big deal. The forecast said the snowstorm will clear by next week, so I’ll get home right before New Year’s.”

Despite his nonchalance, you let out a loud wail and bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Don’t worry, Shin!” you declare, though your volume's muffled by his sweatshirt. “We’ll have so much fun together!”

And the evening is fun! As per tradition, the two of you order fried chicken with several side dishes – corn with melted cheese, toasted bread, garlic fries – and chow down while catching up on several movies that neither of you could watch due to endless assignments and deadlines. You also force Shin to do a sheet mask with you, and throughout the 15-minute wait, Shin’s incredibly restless and has to fidget in some way, whether that be bouncing his leg or wriggling his finger or elbowing you in the rib cage. By the time you both are ready for bed, it’s already past midnight – in other words, officially Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” you giggle as you crawl into the covers.

Shin’s already lying on his back, sprawled across the entire bed, and you take care not to step or press down on him. You hook a leg across his midriff and fold your arms together between your bodies, one hand flattened over his chest directly where his heart rests underneath. His heartbeat is surprisingly slow, though it’s not as abnormal given that he’s athletic and built. Shin has an arm underneath your neck, and his cheek's pressed against your forehead.

It’s tempting to fall asleep – from your shared warmth, the thumping of his heart alternating with yours, the occasional whisper of his breath tickling your forehead. And you do almost give in. Shin’s eyes are closed, and his other hand, which was fiddling with your sleep shorts, is getting lazier and slower in its movements. He might even be asleep at this rate, but unfortunately, you won’t let him rest that easily tonight.

“Shin,” you mutter, patting at his chest lightly, “are you still awake?”

At first, he doesn’t react, and you feel disappointment sink in your stomach. Then, you watch as a corner of his lip twitches until there’s a small, teasing smile on his face.

“What’s up?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. You giggle along with him and get up to peck him lightly on the eyelids.

“It’s Christmas!” you whine, quite emphatically as well. “We can’t just go to bed!”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. You ignore it because you know he always gives into your wants anyway. And as expected, he asks, “What should we do then?”

This is the perfect opportunity, you think. A surge of excitement races through your body, causing you to almost shiver in delight. And so, with your leg that is slung across his waist, you tuck the heel of your foot into him a bit tighter, and look down at him with giddy expectation.

“Well…,” you drawl, “it’s normal for couples to get a little… naughty on Christmas, right?”

Shin immediately blushes, sputtering surprised and flustered noises, and tries to cover up his face. You catch his hand, though, and your hold on him prevents him from pulling away through other means.

“Shin,” you whimper, more desperate than anything, “don’t you want to kiss me?”

The question quite literally gags him, and with a slack jaw, he’s stunned quiet. His eyes scramble around, fastidiously searching your face for a sign of humor or teasing. But you’re totally serious, determined, and he can tell from the slight pinch between your brows.

He sighs, a loud release of air, before he faces away from you. With a muted voice, he admits, “I do.”

You gleam at his answer, and you press your body closer to his, chest to his side, thigh hiked up and over his stomach, arm across his chest. At this point, you’re practically lying on top of him.

“I want to kiss you, too!” you exclaim. But you quiet down immediately and mumble, “I want to kiss you more…”

Shin’s face is now a shade of deep red, heat spreading across his cheeks, ears, and neck. “I-I don’t know how to…”

You press your lips against the bottom of his jaw. You glance up, gauging his reaction, but it seems he’s also waiting to see what you’ll do next. So you continue, making your way up to his earlobe, which you nip at – his breath hitches at it –, before you move horizontally, scattering more pecks across his cheeks and nose bridge.

Then, you take a brief pause. You rest your forehead against his and whisper, “Is this alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he grunts.

With his approval, you resume. You kiss at the arches of his eyebrows, his temples, the apples of his cheeks again. But you feel a burning impulse to do more, so you finally allow yourself to kiss him.

You’re truly on top of him now. Legs straddling him and forearms resting on his chest, you kiss him deeply, putting slight pressure as you mesh your lips against his. Shin responds enthusiastically, hands grabbing at your waist, chin tilting up for a better angle, throat thrumming with broken groans.

When he tries to break for air, you press forward. You lick and bite his bottom lip, to which he weakly gasps at, before interlocking your lips together once more. Your hands have moved up to hold his face in place, enabling you to nibble at and taste his lips until you’re content.

“Breathe through your nose,” you croak as you finally relent, pulling away to get a proper look at your boyfriend.

Shin’s entirely disheveled. His shirt's crumpled and wrinkled, his hair's matted to his forehead, and there’s a dazed air to him in general. He glances at you before huffing, out of breath, “Should’ve said so earlier, idiot.”

You try to contain your satisfaction, but Shin clicks his tongue at you, knowing your internal monologue regardless.

“How’s that for your first makeout session?” you tease, poking at his stomach with an index finger.

Unwilling to give in, he gruffly responds, “Fine.”

You squawk, more than displeased with his response, and you probe even further. “What?! What didn’t you like? Was I too forceful? Did I bite too hard? Should I have added tongue –“

He muffles your mouth with his palm, blush reigniting at your string of questions, particularly that last one.

“No, no! It was fine – actually, fantastic! There, happy?”

You cross your arms and pout. You wanted Shin to enjoy making out with you so much so that he would say it himself, not to simply appease you.

As you’re thinking about what you could’ve done better, you don’t notice the way he stares – practically glares – at your lips. His arms have also slowly wound their way around your hips, and it’s only when he shifts so that he’s sliding up that you’re brought back from your thoughts.

You didn’t realize the two of you were so close again. Now that you’re both sitting up, Shin’s chest is pressed solid against yours once again, and a hand of his rests at the back of your neck, reaching up to hold the base of your head as well. His breath's also heavier, and you gulp, having never seen Shin so serious and quiet, aside from when he’s studying.

Finally, after what seems like several minutes of silence, Shin redirects his glare to you and mumbles, “Merry Christmas,” before he seals the last bit of distance between the two of you, kissing you so deeply, intently, breathlessly.

You squeak in surprise, but the noise gets swallowed up by Shin’s hungry licks and suckling, and the two of you continue to make out, lip to lip, tongue against tongue.

You’ve always known that Shin’s a fast learner, but your heart also sings with pleasure at your boyfriend’s adventuring boldness. The shyness he had once displayed has been replaced with an eagerness that can’t be suppressed for any longer, and as he licks at a string of drool that's only beginning to slide out of the corner of your mouth, you relax into his grip, relinquishing pacing and control over to him.

Somewhere, in the back of your head, you thank your impatience because this is the best Christmas you could’ve asked for, and you wouldn’t trade this moment with Shin for anything else.

winter event masterlist

#sakamoto days #sakamoto days fluff #shin #shin asakura #asakura shin #shin x reader #shin asakura x reader #asakura shin x reader #shin fluff #sakamoto days shin #shin sakamoto days #carrot cake!#house of solis occasum

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alwaysurvalentine · 6 months ago

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the love bug - st ficlet

Based on a prompt from my @steddiebingo 12 Days of Christmas card: 'blind date'

wc: 854 | cw: none | more info: modern au, pre-relationship, Steve is a teacher (I'm thinking middle school) and Eddie works at a music store

enjoy! 💛

Eddie knows he could’ve saved himself from the chill seeping into his bones by getting dropped off right in front of the restaurant. However, getting dropped off a block away meant he could scope out this mysterious stranger Chrissy’s set him up with. The place they’re meeting has a line of windows that face the street that he’s hoping to use to his advantage. He doesn’t even really know what the guy looks like, but Chrissy said that he’d be there and that he’d have a red rose on the table. Easy to spot.

To say Eddie’s wary is an understatement. He’s really only doing this to get Chrissy off of his back. Ever since she’s been bitten by the love bug she’s made it a personal goal to help all of her friends find love. Now, did her meddling help their friends Nancy and Barb finally get together? Maybe, but that’s besides the point. Both of them having been dancing around each other for as long as Eddie can remember, not so stolen glances sent to each other every time the group got together.

Love and Eddie just don’t mix, and he’s accepted that. A series of terrible exes will do that to you. But Eddie’s okay with being alone, it’s not like he’s ever wanting for company, but asking a hookup for something more than physical is just asking to be ghosted. So it’s just fine with him to keep on working at the Music Warehouse and meeting up with his friends for dinner instead of worrying about who is going to help him raise his rats.

The windows cast a warm light onto the street, ice glittering, and Eddie sees it – a bright red rose sitting next to the prettiest man he’s ever seen. How was he supposed to know that a man named Steve was going to be a modern day Adonis? This is something that Chrissy should’ve warned him about! Now he’s second guessing his maroon button down and black jeans. He would’ve at least done some eyeliner if he’d known, and if things don’t go well he’s going to be talking to Chrissy about what needs to be shared if he goes out with someone. One of those letting him know if he’ll be sitting across from a literal model or just some friend of a friend that works in corporate.

When he steps in, a blast of warm air hits him and he shudders. His cheeks have to be pink from the cold, fingers tingling as he walks over to the table. Steve hasn’t noticed him yet, eyes tracing over the menu instead, and his wire frame glasses just about take Eddie out.

“Uh, Steve?”

At his words, Steve looks up, eyebrow raised in question only for a moment before a soft smile settles on his face.

“You must be Eddie?”

Dinner ends too soon. Eddie could sit here and talk with Steve all night, but the pointed looks from the staff are enough to have him grabbing his jacket.

“Looks like we need to scoot out of here. I think they’re about to close.”

By the sheepish look on Steve’s face he hadn’t noticed the stares. He rushes to grab his own jacket, sliding it on even as he starts towards the door. They don’t even make it to the door before their dishes are cleared from the table. Eddie flashes a quick smile and shrugs when he makes eye contact with their waitress, following Steve out quickly.

“I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Sorry about that.” A light blush covers Steve’s cheeks, eyes turned to the sidewalk.

“I didn’t mind. Guess it is kinda late though, and you’ve got all those papers to grade tomorrow. Wouldn’t want Mr. Harringtonslacking on the job.”

“Oh hush.” Steve gently shoves at Eddie’s shoulder, a cloud escaping his mouth when he laughs. It might only be their first meeting, but Eddie’s already imagining how nice Steve would look in the summer, moles popping out against tan skin. “I really do need to head out. Dinner was nice.” Steve hesitates for a moment, looking like he’s about to step away before reaching into his back pocket. “I’d like to do it again, think you can just add your number here?”

When Eddie looks at the screen it’s to an empty contact, cursor blinking away. The phone buzzes and he gets a glimpse of a text from ‘Birdie’ saying ok Steven I’m so glad you’re having fun but… so he rushes to put in his name and number.

Eddie gets an eyebrow raise from Steve when he passes the phone back, “Oh, ‘Mr. Right’ huh? Very presumptuous of you.”, but the grin on Steve’s face lets Eddie know the risk was worth it. Faintly he hears the phone buzz again and when Steve glances down his eyebrows furrow.

“Oh! I really do need to go, I’m sorry. Have a good night, Eddie!”

And quick as a flash, Steve steps forward and presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

Looks like he’s been bitten by the love bug too.

#valentine writes #steddie #blind date #Chrissy and Eddie are best friends #also just know that Chrissy's 'love bug' is Robin #this is only the beginning of these two being obsessed with each other btw

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pirateprincessblog · 1 year ago

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Blue Paradise

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: the news of park seonghwa, your best friend's brother you haven't seen in years, joining your birthday trip to maldives doesn't excite you the slightest. so far.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 19.5k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, bit of angst, summer love, innocent but curious seonghwa, experienced reader, childhood friends, a little sadist reader, almost a milf, subby seonghwa

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral (both receiving), public, submissive seonghwa, dominant reader, gagging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of body dysmorphia

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: use of the word noona! i'm not a koreaboo i promise, and i don't care if you think it's cringe, the word noona has a special grip on me. eternal sunshine prettiest boy seonghwa is the one i'm writing about in this piece <33 my sadistic side is showing a little here. also ???????

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

when you said the words i'm fine out loud, you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the group of girls in front of you, or yourself. you weren't angry. nor sad. you were simply disappointed. the notebook you were subconsciously gripping in your lap contained all the plans and goals that were now impossible to fulfill. just two days before leaving your hometown and visiting the sweet tropical delight, nearly all the people from your friend group decided they wouldn't be going. the trip was paid by you, as a celebration for your birthday.

maybe you chose the wrong location. or the wrong time. or just the wrong people. it didn't matter. you could say goodbye to the printed images of the blue water and the clear sky in the notebook, along with the idea of swimming with sharks or drinking straight out of a coconut. you worked hard to save up for this celebration. hours of working even after your shift was done, drowning in sweat and running home just for a few extra dollar bills. little by little, you saved up for all the tickets. true, your parents did give you money here and there. but you have your little hobbies and dirty pleasures, and oh, you just love desserts and dresses. it's not easy to save up when the marketing teams of your favorite stores work harder than you or your parents. how can you not buy that tight bright pink sequin dress with the feathery sleeve ends? and the heels which come in half price if you buy the matching bag? what a steal.

your eyes scan the room, looking for the slightest sign of guilt on their faces. yet, not a single one was visible. you wished to rip their plane tickets in front of their faces, throw the notebook at the girl who proposed the idea of rather staying home instead of getting drunk in a whole different location far from home. you witnessed their excitement, screaming and yelling when you announced the trip. then, what happened?

"we're sorry, but-"

"you're not sorry. you just want the feeling of guilt to disappear. that is, if you're feeling guilty at all." you interrupt, your tone pure frost.

your best friend cups your hand, making you soften the grip on the notebook. in other circumstances, she is the one who does the talking. but today, she is willingly letting you handle it. you've had enough of everyone using you and reaching out to you only when they need something.

"it's not like we took any money from you. you're acting like we robbed you or something." the girl says, looking at the rest of the group and asking for support.

"not directly, you didn't." your face stays stone cold. "but cancelling this late means i cannot get a refund. or real friends to go with me."

they all scoff in disbelief, some of them already angry and ready to start spitting insults. you don't care. you're ready for everything they have to throw at you.

"real friends? are you fucking with me?"

you feel like you're in a euphoria episode. and yes, it is as fun as it looks. especially when you know damn well you're right, and they're wrong. you watch them yell at you, accusing you of accusing them, making up a thing or two along the way, even getting into your face and pointing into your chest. you watch with a lazy smile, which only enrages them more. each moment that passes, they're only proving you right. they were here just for the money. if you asked them your favorite colour, they'd just look at each other helplessly. but if you asked them how much your parents have given you for christmas, they'd know to the last cent.

"you know what? fuck your parents, your trip, your money and your fake ass."

and just like that, you were left alone with the only true friend in the big house. the appetizers were untouched, and so were the cocktails. you feel a hand wrap around your shoulders.

"we'll figure something out. i won't let anyone ruin your birthday."

you smile, this time sincerely. it takes less than fifteen minutes to lift your spirits. with your friend saying stupid things in a normal tone, it's easy to come out of the shell. you're already opening your notebook again, scribbling over the names that were once involved, and adding up new plans.

"you know, we have to go swimsuit shopping. i'm still bloated from the period, and i don't think it'll pass until the trip. the plane ride will only make it worse."

you agree, already picturing the colour and shape you'd want to wear. but still, what to do with the remaining tickets? the amount of money is too huge to just let it go. you can't ask your parents to come, they're busy with a recent project that is supposed to help their business. you can't think of any other friends, and there's no way in hell you'll bring your sibling. constant bickering is something you wish to leave for home, not bring to the maldives.

"what do i do with the tickets?" you mumble, your head now lying on top of the notebook. you feel helpless. at this point, you want to cancel and never go anywhere again.

"well, you might kill me for this, but i have an idea."

you turn your head to the side, cheek pressing into the notebook. your friend is sprawled over the couch upside down, her feet resting on top of the backrest and her head hanging from the seat. she dramatically chews the chips, purposely dragging it out to tease you.

"come on now, we have a little over twenty four hours from the flight. i'm begging you, give me a solution that will save my money."

the girl finally swallows the chips, then looks up at the ceiling.

"when was the last time you visited my home?"

not sure how that is connected to her idea, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "i can't remember. your parents usually come over here instead of us coming over. why?"

"well, you do know that i have a brother?"

"that i do." you laugh, remembering the little rascal. even though he was younger, he never hesitated to flip you both off when you bothered him, or kick you in your knees if you even looked at him the wrong way. ever since he enrolled to a high-school in a city nearby, you barely saw him. then, he went to college. he comes over every other weekend, but sometimes not even that. it's been many years since you've last seen him. "little park seonghwa."

"not so little now," she laughs, "i think he's, like, taller than your dad."

"impossible. he was shorter than me last time i saw him."

"yeah, because he was eleven."

you roll your eyes. she's right, but you'd rather eat scrapped toast burns than admit it. you hear the leather of the couch squeaking, then footsteps. she sits next to you on the floor, then pulls the notebook towards herself without warning. your head follows the notebook, almost falling off and hitting the edge of the table. you glare at her, but she just giggles mischievously.

"i thought, we could invite him and his friends."

"invite your little brother with us? to the maldives?"

she nods, not seeing anything wrong with it. your brain is already listing out what things are out of question and impossible.

"first of all, he's like, fifteen."

"he's twenty-four."

"he's basically a kid." you ignore her, sticking to your own idea as if you know her brother better than her.

"you'd be surprised how much of an adult he is now. little turd still gets on my nerves, but he has come a long way. he even hugs me sometimes."

you sigh. in your head, he is still the little eleven year old seonghwa with blue shorts and the green polo shirt. seonghwa with the blue crocs and a dirty ipad. seonghwa who would enter the room without knocking just so he could wipe his boogers on your clothes. gross.

"fine, let's say he comes along. am i supposed to wear a bikini in front of him?"

"that's normal! it's just a bikini. besides, i haven't seen him make a move on a girl since he got roasted by one for his hair at homecoming."

you can't help but feel bad for the poor boy. your brain forms an unwanted image of seonghwa, all dressed up and fixed for his date, only for his date to bring him down in front of everyone.

"i did not need to imagine that." you mumble to yourself, then try to take the pen from your friend. "give me that."

"no, wait! he has like seven friends, so one ticket will still be an extra. still better than all nine going to waste, right?"

"right."

"so,

seonghwa takes mel's ticket,

wooyoung takes lara's ticket,

mingi takes josie's-"

"hold on, hold on. they're all boys?"

"men, yes."

you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. you try to breathe, but the idea of taking literal kids to such an expensive vacation is driving you crazy.

"i'm going there to get drunk, get a tan and fuck somebody in my pretty pink dress, maybe even get scissored by you, not to babysit your brother and his friends. and what the fuck are those names, are they forming a kpop group?"

the girl laughs, her head falling back against the sofa behind you. all of this is so hilarious to her, while you're feeling like it's a bad dream that'll be gone if you pinch yourself enough.

"first of all, very flattering, i appreciate that. i'll think about the offer. second, you're literally just a couple years older than them. and third, they're more than capable of getting more drunk than you and fuck someone, just like us."

there wasn't any space to think about it. it's either spending the week guarding kids from getting alcohol poisoning or spending the week feeling guilt because of the lost money.

"fine."

"oh? just like that?"

"what other choice do i have? let the kids have fun."

she giggles, then finishes the scribbling on the page. you scan over the names, then the female ones that were crossed out. you feel your heart tighten, but remembering that you got rid of something you didn't need the whole time, you feel at ease.

"i'll tell them to come over tomorrow, just so you can meet them and tell them the plan."

"yeah, that'd be great."

the rest of the day is spent outside, visiting various stores and trying on various swimsuits. all of them were extremely exposing, something you weren't quite used to. still, you managed to gain the confidence and buy a risky set. a baby pink set with panties that had a lower cut than you preferred, along with a shiny waist chain, and a decent bra. the summer heat waves were more than present, causing people to run into stores just to cool off, including the two of you.

after an ice cream, a few burgers and slushies, you finally collapsed on your bed. it wasn't long until your alarm clock had your eyes peeling open. you had slept for almost nine hours, yet it felt like ten minutes.

your friend was supposed to be here around dinner, bringing takeout and the boys with her. you made a deal that the boys could sleep over, so that you can drive to the airport together without having to wait for anyone. you packed all day, proudly stacking your bikinis for each day of the week. the pink one was reserved for the day of your birthday, the shiny chains carefully placed in the corner so they don't get broken in transit.

you had just packed your backpack, changed into a dress that didn't stick to your skin, letting your it breathe and get a relief from the hot summer evening. you admired your skin, wishing for it to stay that clean during the following week. you had refrained yourself from eating chocolate for three whole weeks, and the results finally showed up. you were proud of yourself for not picking on it, and decided to keep a count for it. it'll make you happy when you see a progress each morning.

deep voices travel to your ears, a sign that they have arrived. you didn't expect them to sound this grown up. you expected those soft boyish voices, that match their boy body structures. but once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop breathing for a moment. these weren't boys. not at all.

they were men.

eight tall men stood in your living room, patiently waiting and helping your best friend sort out the food orders. one of them stood extra close to her, telling off others if they get too close. could it be?

and as if he knew what you were thinking, he turns his head, eyes looking directly into yours. you stand there, not moving a muscle. you are scared to breathe. a sudden wave of anxiety washes over your body. these were all grown men foreign to you. and then it hits you.

they're all going on a vacation with you. they'll all see you in a bikini, in your dresses, they'll see you drink. they'll probably see you get railed somewhere behind a club. they'll probably see you at your worst when you're near alcohol. fuck.

"oh, there you are! i was already starting to go mad with all these male alphas." she turns to look at them, and one of them sticks his tongue out at her. "let's eat first and then you'll do the introduction and all that shit."

park seonghwa doesn't avert his gaze from you. he smiles, sending you a little wave from across the room and giving you the prettiest eyes you've ever seen in your life. the sparkly irises wake up a volcanic eruption in your stomach; something you haven't felt in a while. the boy- young man- sits down on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. seeing your frozen state, the girl comes towards you, hands resting on your shoulders.

"look, i know it's a bit much for you, and you definitely didn't expect them to look or act this mature and intimidating, - and, well, bulk - but give them a chance. they're really nice and comfy to be around."

you nod, then skim over the group once again. they're all wearing short sweats with basic t-shirts, yet you feel under-dressed. you wished you put something nicer on, like that green flower dress or-

"come on, now. your food is getting cold."

they have spared a seat for both of you on the other sofa, along with a set of forks and plastic plates.

"my friend is a little shy, give her a moment," she announces, and pretends to not notice you glaring from the side. "anyways, enjoy your meals."

everyone eats in silence, occasionally murmuring something among themselves. you take the moment when you're out of focus to scan each one of them. they were all built athletically, with their t-shirts straining against their muscles and the thighs occasionally flexing as they laughed or spoke. then, you stopped at seonghwa. his dark hair was softly falling over his eyes, and his bright teeth showed up every now and then whenever his friends spoke. you watched his hands spin the fork to get the spaghetti easier into his mouth, the veins on his arms distracting you from your own food. he brings the food to his lips, eating in a way so polite, chewing with his mouth closed and no messy ketchup accidents. you were amazed that this man is the little seonghwa with boogers smeared on his star wars t-shirt.

he catches your gaze again, this time smiling wider than before.

"noona, how have you been?"

you wish to bury your face between the sofa cushions. the name he once used to call you because his mother made him, was now used because he himself wanted to. why else would a grown man call you that in the place far from his homeland, where that labeling is not necessary?

"good, seonghwa. very good." you manage to say, cheeks burning as he smiles sweetly at you. "what about you?"

"i've been good, noona. pushing through college, trying not to drop out."

"says the guy with all of his exams at not lower than ninety-five percent," his friend scoffs.

he earns himself a nudge in the ribs, then whines dramatically.

"jongho, you're basically in kindergarten." your friend teases, and the young man acts offended.

"just because i'm the youngest-"

"so, seonghwa's sister's best friend, exactly where are we going and what will we be doing?"

you laugh at the addressing, then set the plate aside. the focus is on you, and your head becomes dizzy for a moment. you feel lost in time and space, and it takes you a while to get back to reality. you're there, surrounded by nine people who are waiting for you to speak instead of staring blankly. it takes one knee pat from your friend to assure you that it's okay to speak, and that they'll listen.

"we'll be staying at bungalows, the small ones you see on insta all the time. which means two to three people per one. i'll make the list later, so we can settle as soon as we arrive and not lose time on organizing."

you continue to explain your plans, but make sure to tell them they're not obligated to follow what you had in mind. still, they all seemed amazed at your ideas that none of them protested. by the end of the meal, the conversation had gone from stiff to comfortable, with multiple people talking and you feeling confident enough to speak up when needed.

"seonghwa is scared of sharks, what do we do about that?"

"i'm not, you dipshit."

"language," you laugh, looking at the bickering young men in front of you.

"sorry, noona," and there it is, the sickeningly sweet smile again. he does it so naturally, it has your heart fluttering.

the conversation about sharks and how harmless they are continues, and your focus shifts on the dessert they brought. you ate a whole plate of your favorite takeout meal, and drank almost three glasses of soda. would they think you eat too much if you took just one cupcake?

you reach for the red velvet delight, your eyes focused on your friend as she scolds the boys for the unnecessary swearing and dirty comments. your fingers brush against something cold, and you look down to find seonghwa reaching for the same cupcake as you. he sees you hesitate, so he splits the dessert in half, leaving the bigger one for you on the plate. you give him a smile of gratitude, then lean back into the leather and listen about dinosaurs and chickens and how they're related.

almost two and a half hours later, you notice them getting sleepy. they help you pick up the trash from the dinner, and then stand in front of you, as if waiting for orders.

"i'll pull out these sofas for four of you, and the other four can fight about two guest bedrooms with a couple bed."

seven of them call dibs, running upstairs to the rooms and fighting along the way.

"like i said, kids."

"oh, i don't think kids can do this."

you look at seonghwa, who was fine with sleeping on a pullout sofa, and raise your eyebrows with amusement, and amazement, as he flexes his arm in front of you. your expression is probably priceless. the veins traveling along his muscular arms are giving you trouble breathing, or existing at all.

"stop flexing in front of my friend, you idiot. she's not impressed."

"right," he says, clicking his tongue and laughing when he gets hit by a pillow. "i'll take it from here. you go rest, noona."

seonghwa takes the covers and pillows from you, making sure to brush his fingers against yours once again, looking into your eyes with a smile while doing so. he could step on you and smile like that, you'd ask him to do it again.

"oh, it's not a problem." you insist.

your friend clicks her tongue, then rolls her eyes. she puts her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you upstairs to your room.

"if the little turd wants to set up his bed, let him. that's the only use you'll have of him this whole trip."

"i love you too!"

and that's the last thing you hear from him before going inside your room. voices echo through the hallway, coming from the two guest rooms. you hear them play various games to decide who wins the bed, yet when one side wins, they switch to a different game that benefits the other side. they stop only after you've brushed your teeth and changed into sleepwear. you hear multiple heavy footsteps passing by your door, then knocking.

"yes?" you say, looking at the door through the mirror. your fingers don't let go of the halfway braided hair as a head peeks in, eyes quickly scanning the room, then falling on you. you remember the man as wooyoung. he's the social butterfly of the group, that you've noticed.

"nice pj's, noona." he grins, shamelessly staring at your bottom. "pandas look very cute on you."

"wooyoung you come over here right fucking now." hongjoong, you think, warns him. you laugh, still looking at the young man standing at your door, now holding it open for everyone to see inside.

four of them are lined up behind him, trying to sneakily look inside. until hongjoong rushes them all downstairs, then points his finger at wooyoung with a stern look.

"out."

"whoops, gotta go. good night, noona."

the door closes with a loud thud, hongjoong's scolding still travelling through it. it doesn't feel the same when he calls you that. only seonghwa can do it properly. wooyoung seems to be using it in a flirting way, yet seonghwa... he seems genuine with it. he says it so sweetly, with respect. you find yourself excited about hearing it again tomorrow. and the day after it. and the whole week like that. so far, you're having a great time. you can't wait to see what surprises this week has for you.

after many plane pictures and more scolding from hongjoong and you all the way to the destination, you're finally gathered in front of the most vibrant sea you've ever seen in your life. your body soon falls face first into the mattress, as if you haven't been sitting and sleeping for hours until now. your friend, on the other hand, already had plans to dive into the endless turquoise heaven.

"come on, now. we didn't come to sleep." she throws a pillow at you, which you don't bother to avoid. it lands on your head and stays there, making her giggle. "we have all night to do that."

"if we have all night to sleep, when are you planning to get drunk and laid?" you mumble.

at the other bungalow, park seonghwa is cussing under his breath. he shouldn't have agreed to the trip right away. he should have seen you first. then, when he realizes just how hot you are and how difficult it is to maintain his polite attitude around you, he'd decline the invitation. now, he stands in front of the mirror, scolding himself for not going to the gym when his friends would ask him. and to think you'll see him shirtless at the beach for seven days straight?

then, he realizes. he will see you too. fuck, how will he survive it? to see you in a bikini, with your skin all exposed to the sun? with water drops sliding down your sun-kissed skin? what if you had a tattoo somewhere, like right above your panties on your back?

"seonghwa, are you going?"

his head follows the voice, face blank and brain suddenly frozen. "huh?"

wooyoung snickers, grabbing the deflated beach ball they had brought. "here, make yourself useful until you are capable of leaving this place in a normal shape."

he throws the plastic smelling item at seonghwa, who is now as red as the cocktail wooyoung is already slowly sipping. "it's not what you think-"

"we'll be outside, having fun. without you. bye!"

and just like that, park seonghwa is left alone in his shared bungalow, with a flat beach ball in his hands and a painful erection in his pants. maybe, just maybe, he could skip today.

his plan goes well, and he spends his free time collecting all the discarded sweaty clothes from the flight. carelessly thrown items around the place are now neatly organized on the dresser. he is now wearing a tank top, the one which makes his body look bigger and more formed. just in case he bumps into you. which he hopes he won't. not yet, at least.

he manages to clean the mess in the other bungalows, then proceeds to the last one: his sister and yours. he wonders how bad he would get scolded if he did a little cleaning inside. after all, his sister is a bigger mess than him. he stares at the opened suitcase, disapprovingly scanning the balled up clothes his sister had 'packed'. then, he sees yours. it is perfectly packed, corners neatly tucked so that you don't have to iron and creases won't form on the delicate materials. your side of the space is a drastic difference from his sister's, and it looks like something out of a cartoon.

voices travel to his ears, mingi's dominating. he goes deeper into the room, until he is standing at the other exit looking at the sea, with the net hanging above it. he has seen the view countless times on those influencer instagram accounts and pinterest, but witnessing it all first-hand is truly a breathtaking experience. no signs of sharks yet, though. luckily for him.

but the unlucky part is still here for seonghwa. he catches a glimpse of you in the deep water, your figure swallowed by the vibrant liquid, hiding your form from him. his eyes feel blurry, sudden heat spreading in his body. he's wondering what kind of swimwear you are wearing.

was it a one-piece? the one with the covered front but exposed back? the one exposed on both sides? the one with a deep cut? or the one with a regular cut but high leg? maybe it was a two-piece. maybe it was pastel, it would suit you. you seem like the type of girl to like soft themed things. or maybe you're like that just on the surface. maybe you liked fierce things, like a g-string and triangle top which barely covers your tits. or those panties that are tied up on the sides, and come off with just a pull of a single string.

he feels his swim shorts getting tight again. he looks down, hopeless. this whole trip is going to end him. the man turns around, trying to clear his head. but how is it possible, when he is standing in the middle of your belongings and he can clearly hear your laughter from outside? his eyes fall on your suitcase, again admiring your folding skills. he might have to take a few classes from you.

then, he spots the bikini section in the corner. his eyebrows raise in surprise at the amount you had packed. his fingers reach for the one on top, carefully pulling it out without disrupting the organisation of other items. a brasilian cut hangs from his finger in all its glory, the vibrant green taking all his focus. he spreads it, and exhales once he realizes how high it has to sit on your hips. the matching white top is indeed triangles, with extra long strings. will you wrap them all around your waist like he saw on instagram? or maybe you have your own creative ideas and you'll surprise him?

"seonghwa?"

caught red handed, he stands like a deer on a highway. he feels his knees go weak, barely holding his body up. he stuffs the panties in his pocket, and immediately curses himself. he couldn't have thrown them into the suitcase?

"seonghwa?" you call again, voice dripping honey as you say his name he suddenly loves.

"yes?" he says, voice raspy and tone uneven. he clears his throat, and runs his fingers through his hair. he tries to collect himself before you can see him this messy and flustered. but his cheeks become an even deeper crimson when you step into the room, colour almost matching your swimwear. he has to grit his teeth to keep his jaw from falling. but his eyes betray him. they shamelessly roam your body, taking in everything you are serving him. you're wearing a one-piece today, cuts sitting high up on your legs, and a deep cut going down to your belly button. your hair is falling over your tits, denying him a chance to be a complete creep right in front of you.

"you're missing all the fun." you pout, eyes big as you look up at him.

it takes every ounce in his body to not slam you right there and worship every inch of your body, from the food belly bump to the stretch marks decorated with water drops. he wished to hold your waist, to feel the wet fabric which stayed tight against your skin. he is breathless in front of you, and you haven't done anything but exist.

"seonghwa?" you say once again, calling him out of his fantasies.

"yes, noona?" he breathes out, hoping your eyes stay locked with his until the situation in his pants calms down.

"aren't you going to join us?"

no, i'd rather stay and stroke myself to death thinking about you.

"not today, sorry. i'm not feeling well."

he tries to leave the room, but your fingers press into his chest, pushing him back in front of you. just when he thinks you have discovered his plans and his little crime, he is confused once again. you press your palm on his forehead, then his cheeks. your brows furrow, and he subconsciously mimics your expression.

"well, you are hot. and not the it's summer kinda hot. maybe you should really stay." you say, disappointment evident in your voice.

the last thing he wanted to do is let down the person who made this whole trip and his erection happen. he closes his eyes for a moment, clearing his head as much as he can. "i'll come."

the smile you give him is enough to make him do whatever you want. you have him wrapped around your finger, and you don't even know it.

he spends the day laying in the sun, occasionally napping and waking up when cold water drops hit his hot skin and he feels a figure blocking the sun.

"you're ruining my vibes, san."

"oh, sorry, mr i'm horny for my sister's best friend."

seonghwa's eyes shoot open, and he sits up immediately. san giggles, searching his backpack near seonghwa's head. the man smacks his friend behind the head, resulting in a glare from him.

"stop saying dumb shit, you'll get me in trouble for nothing." he scolds.

san raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to the man's crotch. seonghwa covers it with a t-shirt, cheeks burning from embarrassment once again.

"wouldn't call that thing a nothing. if anything, it's truly a something."

"you fucking weirdo, get out." seonghwa growls, head falling back on the beach towel. "as if i have any chance with her anyway."

little did he know, you had trouble keeping up the conversation with your friend. the way park seonghwa took off his tank top so sensually, exposing his defined figure so you can drool over it, had you pressing your thighs together underwater. you watch as he smacks his friend for something he has said, then briefly lock eyes with him. his gaze goes from sharp to soft so quickly, and you wonder if he is aware of how much impact his eyes have. awkwardly, you wave towards him, inviting him into the water. you're not sure if he has gotten the message, since he doesn't move from the beach towel. just when you start to shift your attention to the conversation going on near you, you see him stand up.

he steps into the water, shivering at the coldness. as hot as it was, he still felt uneasy entering it.

"ah, seonghwa decided to show up." wooyoung grins, throwing the ball his way.

you hear him cuss when water splashes him from the ball, and your thighs press again when he picks it up, an annoyed look on his face. the serious gaze has your stomach doing back flips, and by now you're sure that you're wet. all for your best friend's brother. you struggle to stop staring, hell, almost drooling, but when he glances at you one more time, you're almost sure that a smirk was on his lips. he then dives into the water, his figure disappearing completely for a few moments. you begin to worry, and you start to swim forwards in hopes you'll catch a glimpse of him somewhere. and then, you gasp.

park seonghwa resurfaces right in front of you, face to face. your jaw drops subconsciously, and if you weren't in deep water, you'd probably search for a place to sit. the young man opens his eyes, ignoring the burning from the salty water. maintaining eye-contact with you, he runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so that it doesn't bother him. you watch in awe as water drops glide down his golden cheekbones and lips, toned chest and arms, and you have to fight every urge in your body to not lean in and kiss him right there.

"hi, noona." his lips curve in a sweet smile, the one that has your heart beating a little too fast for two days now.

"seonghwa," you choke out, the poorest greeting that has ever come out of you.

"let's join them, shall we?"

you feel a light touch on the small of your back, and that's when you decide it's enough for today. it's only day one, and if you decide to ruin a vacation or a friendship, you'll do it on the last day. until then, you have to gain control over your body again.

"actually, i'm feeling a bit tired. "

a slight frown appears on seonghwa's face, almost barely noticeable. he pulls his hand back, and you want to whine at the loss of contact. it was only a second, yet you crave his whole existence. you want to feel him all over you, his warmth, his scent, the refreshing water beads and his firm hands on your waist as he fucks you into the hanging net, looking at the sunset over your shoulder. images form in your brain, one, two, three, four. then suddenly, a whole scenario. park seonghwa having you in the water. park seonghwa consuming you in your bungalow as you hide from his sister. park seonghwa making love to you in the moonlight in the shallow water. you breathe out, feeling your chest getting heavy with each thought that rushes through your brain.

"i'll see you at dinner tonight." you wave at the group, then swim past the man that squeezes the filthiest thoughts out of your brain without him even knowing.

you drop down on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish. you stare at the wooden ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. but how can you, when he looks so goddamn good in those beach shorts and his hair slicked back, with a few strands falling over his eyes? it's been long since you craved someone's touch. fuck, you don't think you've ever craved someone this much. you don't remember wishing for anyone to fuck you in any place you can think of.

meanwhile, seonghwa is busy hiding his frown from the group. you dragged him outside, just for you to run back inside. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass up until the moment you disappeared inside the bungalow. he stays away from his sister, afraid that she might somehow hear his thoughts and become angry. she cannot know about his feelings. nobody can. well, nobody else. his friends weren't blind, but they aren't the ones to rat out a person. it is a chance for seonghwa to stop on time and save his bond with his sister. he can't even begin to imagine the disaster that would happen if she ever knew. besides, you don't look at him that way. for god's sake, he used to fight you all the time as a kid, purposefully sneezing into your face just to see you freak out. he giggles with himself, remembering your angry and crying face while running to tell his mother.

"don't you think you should get out of the water?" the female voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks at the group that has formed a circle and is playing with the beachball.

"no, why?" san ignores, throwing the ball seonghwa's way.

"everybody's lips are practically green. let me see your fingers. i bet they're pruney as fuck."

a round of protesting and finger examining later, the woman is forcing everybody but seonghwa out of the water. as she swims past him, she makes sure to ruffle his hair, giggling at the result.

"you can stay, but don't make it too long. i don't want you catching a cold on day one. and ruin my vibes."

"don't worry," seonghwa smiles, assuring her that he will obey.

he feels his muscles tighten, a familiar sweet pain forming and telling him that tomorrow will be hell for his body. he hasn't been active for a while, and a little swimming won't kill him. just make him unable to move. and so seonghwa swims, to the boats, to the shore, and towards the bungalows. he lays on his back, absorbing the sun rays and letting his brain roam. they go back to you every time, and it's starting to annoy him. why can't he accept that he can't have you? he must be just way too worked up. surely, he'd fuck anyone if given the chance. he can't possibly have these thoughts only about you. you're his sister's best friend, for fuck's sake. and, you're older than him, which makes it impossible in his head. how could he possibly please you, when he had the least experience in the group? he has only ever done sexual things with his first girlfriend, and since the breakup, he hasn't had any encounters with anyone else. what could he know about pleasing you? maybe you liked it rough? he only knew slow and romantic. though, he is willing to try, for you. did you like it messy and sloppy? or clean and organised? maybe you liked foreplay more.

"seonghwa!"

he opens his eyes, looking the way the voice is travelling. hongjoong is calling him, and just like that, he has to put his brain on hold. he cannot think about you. he mustn't.

"be right there!"

dinner came and went, with the young men ordering simple for day one and eating in the bungalows. you, on the other hand, have ordered the most complicated meal you could, and were now humming with each bite.

"this is better than dick." the woman next to you speaks, mimicking your reactions when eating.

"depends, whose."

"let's say, like, jeffrey dean morgan's."

your jaw drops, offended, "how dare you?"

"fine. mads mikkelsen?"

you nod approvingly. she's not right either way, but how could you possibly know? you haven't tried neither of the two. sadly.

"i need to talk to you." the tone is suddenly low, and the atmosphere is no longer relaxed.

you can feel the tension in the air. she leaves the plate, then turns to sit across from you so she can look at you while speaking.

"yes?" you ask, mimicking her actions.

"seonghwa."

fuck, did she realise what was going on with you? was she going to tell you to stay away from him? was she going to threaten you?

"what about him?" you act stupid, innocently looking into your friend's eyes while the most sinful thoughts roam your head.

"he's a little, like, awkward and antisocial. he gets nervous around pretty girls, and, well, you're one hell of a pretty woman. maybe you could strike up a conversation with him? just to let him know that you're a normal person and he can behave normally around you. without all formal labeling and all that crazy shit he has been doing since he saw you. i mean, noona? seriously?"

that you did not expect. her to encourage you to talk to park seonghwa. you hold back a smile. being too enthusiastic won't look good, and will only make her more suspicious.

"i'll try, sure. but i won't force him into anything."

and you meant it. you won't force him into anything, if you decide to make a move at all. any sign of discomfort, you'll back away. you don't need that. and neither does he.

it isn't long until you have to wake up early, get ready and follow your friend. her part of the vacation was to take canoes and swim towards a little nearby island a few minutes away. good booze and hot guys, she said. so you go, all dolled up in your black bikini that ties up around your waist, and a black lace kimono draped over your shoulders. the young men trail behind you, and you can't help but imagine seonghwa sneakily glancing at your figure. doesn't hurt anyone to daydream.

"here we are. five teeny weeny canoes, two people per one." the woman points towards the famous clear canoes, the ones that allow you to see what you're rowing over. "mingi, come on."

"me?" the man stutters, but doesn't question it any longer when she grabs his wrist and pulls him in the water.

they all hop inside, leaving seonghwa and you still in the sand. the water splashes your legs, refreshing waterbeads inviting, along with the scorching sun. it finally smells like proper summer.

"noona, i think i'm feeling unwell again." he tries, already turning around.

without thinking, you grab his arm, your nails subconsciously digging into his sun kissed skin. he turns around, eyes wide. like a deer on a highway looking at the car in front of it, he stands and waits for something to happen.

"you're not going anywhere. come on, now. hop inside."

seonghwa gulps, his skin burning where your fingers touch him. the sight of your bright summer nails digging into his skin awoke a volcano inside of him, lust spreading in his body slowly and burning, like magma waiting to erupt. you put so little effort, yet you had him harder than he has ever been. he wonders if you'd dig your nails like that when he eats you out. seonghwa is weak just thinking about it; you sprawled out just for him to feast on. his cheeks are already flushed, and he begs heavens to help him erase those thoughts. but how can he get rid of them, when you stand there in front of him, in all your glory? he watches you climb into the little boat, and he has no other choice but to join you. he sits behind you, letting you take control of the rowing and only holding his paddles.

"so, tell me what you've been up to all these years I haven't seen you."

"well, I haven't been up to much. lots of studying, a little less absences, almost perfect grades. it's going fine."

he hears you hum, and he wonders what else you will question him. whatever it is, he must impress you.

"no girls?"

so much for impressing you.

"no," he mumbles, shyly dropping his head, "i'm not that desired."

his breath hitches when you throw your head back so you can look at him, position somehow a huge turn on. "not that desired?"

"y-yeah, I mean," he scratches his neck, avoiding eyecontact, "none of them ever showed interest. I had, like, one girlfriend, and that went horribly."

you hum again, then get back to rowing and following the rest of the group. he now follows your movements, silently moving in sync and definitely not looking at your ass.

"why? if I may know." you push, desperate to know how no girl could want someone like him.

"I guess I'm just a pretty face. she wasn't satisfied with, well, anything. not with the way I communicated, not with the way I ate, sat, studied, even breathed."

he opens up like a book in your hands, ranting about all the times she was angry with him for the most ridiculous reasons, and was at one point just searching for ways to make him leave her so she wouldn't feel guilty. so that's what seonghwa did, with his heart shattered by his first love, who he thought would be his last too. he was the bad guy, yet he didn't do anything wrong.

"oh, can she complain. is there anything that didn't bother her?"

instantly, seonghwa's cheeks go red, and he stutters. you stop rowing, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"seonghwa?"

"well, she always said I, uh," he stops, thinking about whether to tell you, "it's stupid."

you scoff, not believing anything he has to say is stupid. with great difficulties and lots of slipping, you try to turn around towards him, so you can look at him while you talk. your eyes widen with horror when your leg slips on the wet inside of the canoe, hands desperately reaching out for anything for support. you weren't ready for a swim yet.

just in time, the young man reaches forwards, firmly planting his hands on your waist and stabilising your figure. his cheeks are a deep crimson, eyes wide with realisation at the way he's touching you. you don't move, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the man in front of you.

"she said I had skilled hands," he whispers, subconsciously rubbing his thumb against your skin.

it pains you that you can't just lean in and kiss him right there. if only it were that simple.

"like- like massages, right?" you offer him a way out, gently removing his hands. "and, well, catching things."

"yeah," he laughs, awkwardly looking at the water surrounding you.

"in that case, I could use that little skill of yours."

seonghwa goes red again, and you fight the urge to laugh. he is crumbling in front of you, so small and gentle despite his figure being much bigger than yours. you don't remember ever having this feeling of the upper hand. it is new, and it's setting your whole body on fire. your fingers yearn to move that strand of hair that has fallen over his pretty eyes.

"I could use a massage."

and with a wink, you start rowing again, this time staying in the other position and facing him.

the day is loud and quick. wooyoung is tipsy, hongjoong has embarrassed himself three times already, and san is almost desperate for the waitress that had the thinnest waist you've ever seen in your life. right away, your appetite is gone. your gaze drops down to your body, suddenly feeling heavy and stuffed. everyone is already at their second plate from the buffet, and you're still playing with the one from an hour ago.

"noona?"

when you don't respond, because you know just what they will tell you, you feel a soft touch under the table on your ankle. you raise your head, ready to scold wooyoung for inappropriate touching. but then you see seonghwa's worried gaze, eyes big and shiny as he looks at you, then your plate. nobody else is paying attention, half of them having stood up to do karaoke and make complete fools out of themselves.

"is it not tasty? do you want to exchange plates?"

you look at his plate filled with fruit, and it looks much more acceptable than your grease filled plate. just what were you thinking?

"I'll just try something..." you reach towards it, stabbing into a mango,"...if i may?"

he smiles, his eyes somehow prettier when he does so. you are mesmerized, and you feel like you've been staring at him for hours. you wouldn't mind doing so, when he is a walking sculpture.

"of course you may, noona. that is why i offered."

"you know, you don't have to call me noona. you can call me by my name."

"i'm not sure i can do that."

"sure you can. try it."

he stuffs his mouth with fruit, pointing towards it as an excuse for not speaking. you laugh, watching him cutely chew and wiggle his legs under the table in the process.

"cute," you say, getting up to empty your plate.

you don't miss the way he stops eating for a while, ears and cheeks a matching red with the strawberries on his plate.

it is past midnight when you hear water splashing, and taking the nosiness from your parents, you have to get up and see what is going on. you stand at the edge of the opened glass doors, scanning the night view. the sky is clear, and no light pollution allows you to see millions of shiny dots sprinkled on it. one particular shiny dot reminds you of the way his eyes sparkle, and you catch yourself just in time before diving further into the thoughts. you've spent too much time thinking of him, and it's not doing any good to you. not when everything is starting to remind you of him.

your gaze drops on the figure in the water, and you curse under your breath. still, it's a hot night, and a perfect opportunity for you to relax without the group swarming around you like usual. it doesn't take long to change into a bikini, careful not to wake up your sleeping roommate. but even if she knew, she was the one who asked you to talk to him. so that's what you'll do. talk.

you sit in shallow water, and watch the moonlight caress his skin. he swims, back and forth, disappears under the water once in a while. then, when he comes back to the surface, he throws his head back, runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his eyes from ocean salt. whatever is clouding his mind, he could really use a conversation.

just when you want to step into the water and join him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours. he dives in again, this time staying there longer. but after yesterday, you trust him. he doesn't need you panicking when he was simply searching for a calm swim.

even though he did it once already, when he resurfaces right in front of you, repeating the hair motion you so intensely watched, not once breaking eye-contact, you can't help but shamelessly stare.

"seonghwa," you greet, lips curving upwards and mimicking his smile.

"noona," he says, not moving a muscle.

his hands are firmly pressed in the sand, holding his body so that he is hovering in the water. you have your knees pressed to your chest, the beach lace cardigan loosely hanging off your shoulders.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

your chin rests on your knees, hands hugging your legs as you examine his facial expressions. the young man sighs, and the smile fades away. he drops his head, thinking of ways to lie to your face.

"seonghwa," you call.

when he doesn't respond, you place your hand under his chin, gently lifting it so that he can look at you. he is surprised at the sudden contact, not hiding it in the slightest. big irises match the starry sky, an endless sparkle and mystery.

"talk to me, love."

and just how was he supposed to tell you he went for a cold swim to calm his erection? it has been difficult for two days now, and he can't take care of himself. not with so many people around him. not with you right near him.

"is it the girls talk?"

"no, no, of course not." he quickly denies, trying to move away from you.

"stay there," you ask, your other hand firmly placed on his bare shoulder. "i quite like this position."

you indeed like it; him laying in front of you, looking at you from below, and you having him right there in your hand, completely vulnerable.

"now, tell me. is it the girls talk on the canoe?"

"maybe."

"maybe?" you raise an eyebrow, thumb subconsciously rubbing his jawline.

"i don't know how to please a girl," he blurts out. "i guess my hopes were too high for this trip."

"don't be silly, sure you do."

he snorts, tearing his gaze away. "you wouldn't understand."

"why is that?"

"you're telling me that a girl would enjoy an inexperienced man? imagine me taking one home, just for her to find out i can't even put it in."

you bite the inside of your cheek. you think, for what seems like an hour. he lays there, water caressing his bare torso, eyes looking up at you for further comfort. you cup his cheeks, your brain coming to a stop and letting your heart gain control.

"noona?" he stutters, eyes dropping down on your lips.

"there's more to it than just putting it in, seonghwa."

he is a blabbering mess, defending himself and saying that he knows, it was just a saying. you let him speak, watching his plump lips move as he struggles to put a sentence together. your intense gaze isn't helping his messy state at all, and he decides to simply give up. he drops his head again, a sigh escaping his lips.

"tell me, would you waste your time with someone who can't even kiss?"

"if i'm a little fond of that person, yes."

he looks up at you, expression unreadable. his silence gives you encouragement, and you lean back and slowly peel your legs open. you feel feverish, watching his parted lips and gaze fixed on your body. the night is calm, water climbing up and down the shore, caressing seonghwa's toned back. you would be lying if you said that the simple touch on his shoulder didn't make you all worked up. he was warm, firm, inviting to bite and scratch. his eyes follow up your body, and stop at your bikini top. the lace slides down your arms, pooling in the sand and giving him a free view.

"come closer," you whisper.

when he fails to move, your hand raises his head once again so he can look into your eyes.

"you need to touch,"

your hand grabs his wrist, pulling it out of the water and placing it on your hip.

"you need to get close,"

you tug at his bicep, inviting him out of the water and closer to you.

"you need to feel,"

you drag his hand up your leg, over the edge of your briefs, and place it on your side. he comes out of the water, hovering over you and holding his body up with his free hand. slowly, you lay back into the sand, giving him space so he can comfortably lay over you.

"you need to want it."

"i want it," he whispers into your lips, holding himself back.

"then come and get it."

a groan leaves his mouth, and he is eager to grab your waist with both of his hands. his wet skin against your dry one makes you shiver, cold water drops rolling from his body onto yours. his plush lips press into yours, gently taking in your bottom lip and giving it a soft caress with his tongue. he repeats it, giving sweet kisses and equal attention to both lips. his fingers dig into your waist, the nervous feeling spreading over his body and making it painfully obvious. you place your arms around his neck, fingers creeping into his wet hair and giving his scalp a gentle scratch. you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, tasting salty water. he pulls away, face flushed and lips plump.

"feel me up, seonghwa," you drag the tips of your fingers and nails down his arms, down to his lower back, and back up to his shoulders, "like this."

he shivers at the sensation, and without a single further touch yet, he is already growing hard thinking of ways he could feel you.

"don't think too much."

peeling himself off of you, he kneels between your spread legs. your eyes close, you know you can trust him. a sigh of sensation leaves your lips, feeling his hands almost hovering over your sides, stomach, and down your legs. he makes his way back up, feeling every inch you had to offer him.

"want to add another pair of panties to your little collection?" you tease, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"w-what?" he stutters, his hands stopping at your hips.

"you think i wouldn't notice i'm missing one of my favorite panties?"

you hear no response. you eyes peel open, lazily looking into his scared ones. it is so adorable how new he is to all of this, and so hot that you get to teach him about it. you have him on his knees, quite literally, and it feels like you've been given a puppy for training. and you just can't wait.

"you can keep them, don't worry. i'll get rid of these too." you raise an eyebrow, and place his hand on the waistband. "soon, i hope."

he doesn't move. his cheeks are flaming, and the tips of his ears even worse. he looks lost. a whole feast in front of him, and yet he doesn't know where or when to start.

"there are too many clothes in the way, don't you think?" you help him out, reaching behind to pull at the string that is holding your bikini top.

you drag his hand up your body, resting it on the crease between your breasts. he gulps, loud. it makes you chuckle, and makes him look away.

"seonghwa," you call.

"yes?"

"you don't want it."

"i do—"

not so gently anymore, you grab his jaw, tilting his head back towards you and pulling him close. he shivers at your nails digging into his cheeks, and to say that he wasn't drowning in lust from your stern look and tone would be the lie of the century.

"then fucking take it."

his hands cup your breasts, exploring the softness and size of them. he massages them, watching your face and searching for a sign that he is doing it right. but you only lay down, eyes closed, not a single sound leaving your pretty lips.

he pulls at the bikini triangles, exposing your chest to the warm night and himself. he cups them again, this time thumbs rolling your nipples. you merely hum, and look at him through half closed eyelids. he has gotten closer, eyes examining your sensitive buds and the way his fingers played with them.

"tongue, baby," you say, holding back moans. "nipples are sometimes more sensitive than the clit, and you have to— oh, yes, just like that."

seonghwa is good at listening, that you are familiar with. he drags his wet muscle over your tense bud, then again, and again. he takes care of you with soft kitten licks, occasionally taking the bud between his lips and gently sucking.

"look at me."

his eyes lock with yours, hazy with lust. you watch as he rolls your nipples between his lips and fingers, sending gentle waves of pleasure through your body. he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. your hips subconsciously buck into his knee, searching for friction. he pulls away, letting his fingers work. he slowly touches you, teases your sensitive area as slow as he can. he enjoys taking it slow, that you've noticed. you wish you could orgasm from just nipple teasing, but it isn't that easy.

"am i doing it right?" he asks, massaging you as he pinches your buds with his fingers.

"of course, baby."

"i'm not getting any reactions from you," he frowns, hands dropping back on your waist.

"well, we have just started. you need to work me up, give me a little attention before the real thing."

"real thing?" he stutters. "we are having sex tonight?"

"not tonight." you assure him, and almost laugh when you see him sigh with relief. "keep going."

he follows your instructions, dragging his hands to your waist and hooking his fingers into the waistband.

"you have to feel first."

he stops to do exactly what you have told him. his fingers dip between your legs, and press into your warm crotch. due to the thin material, he can feel your bottom lips through the panties. it makes him bite his lip to keep him from groaning. he slides his fingers up and down, hoping to get a noise or two from you. when he doesn't, he lowers his body so that he is hovering over your crotch. he moves the panties aside, immediately tasting you and catching you off guard. your hand reaches towards his hair, fingers grabbing at the strands as he rolled your bud between his lips. his tongue teases the tip of the clit, spinning it in circles and making your hips buck into his lips.

"press a little harder, baby," you encourage, pushing his head into your skin.

when he delivers a particularly strong lick, followed by a suck, you moan. your thighs close around his face, and when his arms grab them and force you to spread your legs for him, you lose it. you are a moaning mess, his dominant side coming out of him without him even noticing. you want him to be rough with you, to snap his hips into yours hard, to mercilessly overstimulate you, to kiss you while he stuffs you with his cock.

something about watching him give your clit slow kitten licks is throwing you into a whole different world. he has his hand placed on your lower stomach, tugging at the skin so that he can reach your clit better. placing his fingers on your soaking folds, he looks up at you, finally satisfied with the results.

he rubs you in circles, slow, then fast, then licks you a few more times. he tugs your clit between his lips, tongue swirling around it and fingers spreading your folds as he does so. nobody has ever eaten you out with such passion, and seeing him make out with your bottom lips only makes you want to take him into your mouth until he is begging you to stop.

your orgasm announces its arrival, pooling at the bottom of your stomach and waiting to erupt.

"seonghwa," you gasp.

he hums, eyes still locked with yours. you yank at his hair, trying to pull his head away from you before you can cum on his tongue. but he is much stronger than you, and much more stubborn than you. another gasp leaves your mouth, and your arms find themselves planted in the sand, your wrists firmly trapped in his hands. your legs are clenching around his head, and after a few minutes of making it difficult for him, he presses his knee against your thigh. you are trapped under his firm grip, your most sensitive spots completely at the mercy of his soft lips and hot tongue.

"seonghwa—" you choke out, orgasm swallowing your body and lifting it up from the sand.

you shake in his hands, body working on the waves of pleasure ripping through your figure and blinding your vision. you don't even notice that your hands are now free, and his are pressed on your thighs again. he is doing his best to help you ride it out, generously giving your folds soft kisses and an occasional graze with his tongue. he admires your face from below, taking in every reaction you have to offer him. your body shakes in his hands, aftershocks of pleasure still very much active. your shallow breathing and quiet gasps fill his ears, and his brain makes sure to remember this picture of you forever.

he doesn't know whether you're faking it or he really did it, but he knows for sure that the way your wet hole clenches around nothing is making his cock twitch in his pants. he isn't far from cumming; one stroke from you and he would be done. and humiliated.

you look down, finally capable of forming a sentence other than "fuck" and "oh shit". seonghwa plants a final kiss on your lower stomach, then proceeds to press his body above you one more time.

"did i do good?" he asks, worry taking over his features.

"no."

his eyes widen, and his cheeks become a deep crimson which you can see even in the dark. something snaps inside of you, seeing his vulnerable and innocent state. originally, you wanted to tell him that he did better than good. but to have the upper hand and break him little by little, until he snaps and takes you from behind and fills you up with his seed? sounds way more inviting. how mean.

"it was okay," you caress his cheek, eyes roaming his pretty face, "but a woman needs more than just an orgasm."

"i rushed." he realizes.

"you rushed." you confirm, then push him off of you.

he almost whines at the loss of contact, but he has embarrassed himself enough for one night. he was so eager to make you moan and cum on his tongue, that he didn't think further. what if he has blown the single chance he had to impress you? what if you had hopes for him, but he let you down, and now you don't wish to try anything with him anymore?

the words are stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. he wants to say so much, but afraid that he might ruin this little dignity he has, he settles for watching you stand up and get dressed. the lace cardigan slides on your body just right, hiding your curves and only exposing your chest. he wonders how you can just stand up and move on, like you didn't shake in his hands just minutes ago.

"was this just a lesson for me?" his voice almost cracks behind you. "like, a one time thing?"

when you only spare him a glance over your shoulder, then start walking back to the bungalows, he falls into the sand. he spreads his arms and legs, imitating a starfish, and helplessly looks at the night sky. one chance, and he blew it. it isn't his fault you caught him off guard. he wasn't ready. he swears he could do so much more, if only you would've let him one more time. he curses himself for being impatient, and more stubborn than obedient. though, he is always obedient when it comes to you, his stubborn side had to find a way to make an appearance tonight.

his head falls to the side, eyes following your figure as you walk away from the shore. he is tired, from thinking more than swimming or, well, pleasuring you. though the latter didn't take long.

"fucking idiot."

another day passes, spent in the town center exploring street food and sweets. you buy souvenirs, all sorts of them. even the overpriced little magnets. you must have them all. the boys are filming everything, from the making of the ice cones to your face devouring it. you ride rented motorcycles, wooyoung holding onto your waist and screaming into your ear whenever you speed up. your friend catches up soon, holding onto her brother whose gaze only focused on the road in front of him.

the rest trail behind, ice cones in their mouth and tongues stuck out proud and green from the kiwi flavor. the whole time you've spent together, seonghwa stays aside, avoiding you at all costs. it is only when they go separate ways that he spares you a glance, much like you did to him last night. only his eyes are big and yearning, but yours were cold and uninviting.

you bite your cheek, watching as he licks the ice cone the boys have gotten for him. he isn't aware of his sensual way of eating it, and you hope his sister isn't aware of you staring at it.

you shop until you collapse, your bed suddenly the most comfortable place on Earth. you aren't sure how you'll fit all the items in the suitcase, but you'll leave the worrying part for the last day.

you now stand in front of the mirror, putting the clip in your hair and thinking whether or not you're satisfied with your appearance. even if you weren't, there was no time to change anything. you just had to obey your impatient friend.

eager to get drunk and laid, she orders shots, finishing four by the time you've only done one. she is tipsy and leaning into you, trying to tell you something over the loud club music. you laugh, hoping that she didn't ask a question. you simply don't have the energy to figure out what she is trying to say.

the boys are scattered on the dance floor, mainly making fools out of themselves and each other, trying to get most of this vacation. girls look at them, more with interest than worry because of their behaviour. you spot four familiar heads on the dance floor, and three are sitting on the couch with the two of you. the eighth one is missing.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask, trying to look and sound as careless as possible.

"we made him go to the bar." says san.

"yeah, he seriously needs to get laid."

the boys laugh at hongjoong's words, and even your friend giggles. but you don't find anything funny in that. your eyes roam the bar, in hopes to find the fluffy wavy hair and a pair of big shiny eyes. your neck hurts, raising your head every time someone gets close to the table, in hopes that it's seonghwa. but seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. until you stand up and make your way through the dance floor towards the bar.

you spot him, leaning on the bar with a drink in his hand. the girl in front of him is twirling the ends of her hair, hips swaying with the beat. your teeth sink into your cheek, keeping yourself from acting up. then, she reaches towards his hair, feeling the softness much like you did last night.

"noona!"

the voice comes from behind you, and a pair of arms touch your sides.

"wooyoung," you greet, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck.

fuck seonghwa. he's not yours. he can talk to whoever he wants to. and you're not his. so when wooyoung presses his lips against yours, you don't complain. his lips are hot against yours, and when comparing to seonghwa, much more skilled and confident. his hand grips your waist, pressing you into his firm body as he does body rolls to the beat of the music.

"fuck, noona, you're so hot." he groans into your mouth.

"am i now?" you tease, placing your hands on his and sliding them down to your ass.

"are you kidding me? with your hair in a clip like that, and your lip gloss, and your thongs sticking out of these incredibly tight jeans? i could just—"

"wooyoung."

the grip on your ass is gone, and the heated moment between you two is shattered. your eyes stare at seonghwa's side profile, watching his jaw clench as he tells wooyoung he needs you for a minute. the younger man removes his hands from your body, and then looks at you.

you don't get to protest, your wrist already in his hand and your legs following him outside.

"hey, what the fuck? let go of me!"

and he does let go. but when he does, it is by slamming you against the wooden wall of the club.

"how can you calmly kiss my friend like that after humiliating me last night?"

you take your time to admire him properly. he is wearing one of those over worn hawaiian shirts, all buttons undone and a single necklace resting on his sun kissed neck. he smells like sun protection and aftershave, and his hair is fluffier than usual.

"do you want to break me? do you want to see me at my lowest?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, seonghwa. go back inside."

"what, does he kiss better?" he bites the inside of his cheek, and his jaw clenches a lot more than usual.

"he does have more experience." you remain calm, a monotone tone leaving your lips when you speak to him. "this is all just fun. we're doing this for fun. nothing serious involved."

"then," he reaches forwards, cupping your face," let me fuck you. for fun."

"what? no."

you push him away once again, and start walking away. he gets deja vu, but this time, he speaks up.

"why? you were just seconds away from sitting on wooyoung's cock. why is it a problem when it's me?"

you turn around, still walking backwards towards the entrance. he is almost drunk, and surely doesn't know what he is saying.

"you're just not that type."

"not that type?"

"you know. you're soft. you don't fuck. you make love."

and you can't make love right now. you want him to break you, fuck you in positions that have you helpless and gripping at his built body, to make you beg for mercy as he drives you to your fifth orgasm.

and there he is, again, standing alone, helpless and horny. his legs carry him inside again, to the bar, and back to the girl he wasn't even interested in. he leans in, mimicking wooyoung's moves he did on you. when the girl moans in his mouth, it gives him a boost of confidence. he just hopes you sit there somewhere, watching this unfold.

"fuck, wanna take this outside?" she gasps, hips rolling into his.

seonghwa doesn't need to be told twice. he is thrown on one of the beach chairs, the girl already on her knees in front of him. he breathes heavily, heart beating so hard he swears it could jump out any moment. the alcohol in his veins made it impossible for him to be uncomfortable from the company around him. they didn't even flinch. situations like these are a regular occurrence for them.

"oh, shit, you're huge."

his cheeks burn at the compliment. the first few licks make seonghwa twitch in his sleep, but by the time she has him in his mouth, he is passed out. he was at the verge when he pressed you against that wall, and if he had just drunk two shots less, he would've proved that he can do better than you think.

in the morning, he finds himself wrapped in clean white sheets. he blinks slowly, his eyes getting used to the strong light.

the surroundings are unfamiliar, and for a second, he fears that he might've slept with the girl from last night. but when he sees your almost bare figure in front of him, back turned and hair falling over your shoulders, he silently gasps. that can't be true. he didn't sleep with you. did he?

he checks under the cover, and becomes even more confused when he sees he is fully dressed.

"i didn't sleep with you, seonghwa." you answer before he manages to put a sentence together.

"she did sleep with me, however."

"wooyoung." you warn.

seonghwa sits up on the bed, and looks around the room. wooyoung is also sitting on the bed. your bed. seonghwa sighs, feeling his heart tighten. he looks at you through the mirror, where you stood to fix your bikini. you catch him staring, and your lips twitch into a smirk when seeing his flustered expression.

"headache?"

"what am i doing here if we didn't sleep together?" he asks, the alcohol in him still a little active.

"first, you were passed out with a girl all over you, so i brought you to my bed since your sister spent the night with some guy anyway. second, i would never sleep with a drunk guy. at least not that drunk."

"can't believe you fell asleep mid blow job." wooyoung teases, glancing at his older friend.

"well, if it was any good, i doubt he would've fallen asleep." you come to rescue, deciding that he has suffered enough teasing for the morning. "right?"

"right," seonghwa agrees, scratching his neck.

"luckily, that's not the case with you, noona."

"wooyoung, get out."

"of course, baby."

seonghwa is now alone with you, eyes still trailing up your body. somehow, even though his friend had you before him, he still wants you just as bad as the day before.

"he's bluffing, don't listen to him."

"is he, though?"

you sigh. you did have fun with wooyoung last night, but it didn't go to the point of having sex. even though it was very hard to keep your hands off him. he is passionate, and rough, just how you like it.

"go get dressed, seonghwa. we are leaving soon."

"why won't you fool around with me, just like you did with him?"

his words make you sigh again. you leave your lip-gloss on the dresser, then sit on the bed.

"you don't ask. you just start it, then see where it gets you. i gave you the green light for that. but i told you last night, and i'll tell you again. i realize you're just not the type. you're too soft for me."

"then teach me."

at this point, he has no regrets and refuses to be embarrassed. he wants wooyoung's confidence, his passion for sexual activities, and his charm. all he has is a figure, which is not enough to satisfy you.

"teach you?"

"yes."

"you're out of your mind, seonghwa."

you have him right where you wanted him. right in your hand, like a marionette. you decide his moves, and he obeys, like the cute little doll he is.

"noona," he whispers, desperation dripping from his lips like sweetest honey, "please."

your fingers reach towards the loose strands of hair falling over his glossy eyes. neatly tucking them behind his ear, you bring his face close to yours.

"this time," your lips brush against his as you speak, "listen to what i say. if i say stop, you stop. got it?"

"got it." he nods.

"good."

as slow and soft as possible, you press your lips into his. he exhales, relaxing further into your hands. you are one step away from pushing him back on the bed, and all it takes is just a touch from him. ironically, as if he hears you, he rests his hands on your waist, and you don't resist anymore. you push him on the mattress, laying flat against his warm body.

"your boobs are soft." he comments, noticing the way they are pressed against his chest.

"aw, thanks, bub."

so easy to make him blush. he kisses you this time, tongue hungrily searching for yours. he hums when you finally give in, allowing him to take in the taste of you.

"hey, anyone seen my brother? did he come back last night?"

you pull away, jumping to the other side of the room to buy yourself time to fix your hair and put on a beach kimono, back turned towards him. you glance at seonghwa over your shoulder, and it is enough to make your heart flutter. he is flustered, eyes shiny and big as he panics while his sister's voice is becoming louder and louder. his lips shine from your lip gloss, and his hair is a fluffy mess. oh, you want to have him squirming and milking in your hands.

"ah, there you are! i've- woah, what happened here?"

"not what it looks like-" seonghwa stutters, but you are quick to interrupt.

"he is feeling a bit feverish from last night. he fell asleep in sweaty clothes with the window open."

too hung over to think, she waves it off, turning towards her suitcase in a search for a bikini for today's adventure. you hear seonghwa exhale, and you turn around to wink at him. he seems calmer, seeing how relaxed you are.

"seonghwa, now that you're feeling better, you want to go and get ready?"

"huh? oh, yes. yes, of course."

you watch him as he tries his best to hide the bulge in his pants, eyes full of panic as he walks away hoping his sister doesn't turn around.

"see you, honey."

"see you, noona."

he leaves the room, and you see him through the window picking up his pace and running into his own. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, watching his messy hair bounce, and his hand wipe off the lip gloss from his lips.

"what an idiot." his sister comments, sitting on the bed and carelessly taking off her top and bra.

"aw, come on. he's being such a good boy, why are you calling him that?"

"noona? seriously? he is a piece of shit to me, and he is so nice to you. that asshole."

"he's cute, let him be."

she makes a mocking face your way, then starts to get dressed.

the day is hotter than ever. you are laying in the shades of nature, yet you are sweating so bad that you might actually get into water. you don't feel like it today. you just want to lay down on the fancy beach chair, hiding under your big sun hat, and daydream. about seonghwa.

"you know, i met a guy last night, and let me tell you! his friend is drop dead gorgeous. i told him about you."

you scoff, but don't give any other reaction. you know where she is going with that.

"what? not interested?" she questions.

you laugh, taking the hat from your face and placing it properly on your head. you glance over at the boys, who sat down just beneath you on the bright shark towels. seonghwa is busy squeezing his hair, and doesn't yet realize that you are shamelessly staring at him.

"not really, no," you finally answer, tone disinterested and distant.

"wasn't your plan to have a one night stand of your lifetime on this vacation?"

that seems to pick up seonghwa's attention. he sits down, acting unbothered as he opens his bag of candied almonds. his side eye is very obvious to you though, and his cuteness only increases when you notice small things like that.

"that still stands."

"well?"

"well, i think i already have my eye on someone. someone... younger."

"oh?"

the young man turns his head slightly, just enough to look at you without his sister noticing. you wink at him, and when he blushes, you can't help but smile proudly. you've never had a man behave so giddy because of you, and you are living for it.

"who's the lucky guy?"

"i'm not too sure if he's interested in me yet."

seonghwa turns towards you in disbelief, as if trying to ask you how you could think such a thing. but seeing the playful glint in your eyes, he relaxes.

"can i have one?" you ask, pointing at the candied almonds.

"sure," he mutters, turning the bag towards you.

you wink at him again, before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out a little. his cheeks are the usual red, eyes wide and frantically looking over at his sister and friends. but none of them really pay attention. even if they do, the sight would simply seem playful to them. after all, they do not know about your secret little interactions.

he carefully aims the single almond towards your mouth, and when you so flawlessly catch it, you could've sworn that his jaw had dropped just a little. he is feeding your ego, and he won't regret it.

"good boy," you mouth, hoping he would catch it.

he does, his eyes wide in shock. you love getting reactions from him.

time is slow, the boys having lost interest in the sea and opting to play games and bickering on the towels. the sun is still high up in the sky, not yet ready to end the day. you cannot stop ogling at seonghwa, who is currently trying to doze off but is constantly bugged by something.

"what is it, ddeong?"

ddeong? that's very cute.

"my head really hurts. i wanted to take a nap but it's pounding so bad." he complains, rubbing his temple.

"guess it's your lucky day, because my bestie here gives the best scalp massages."

oh, right. you do. that's so clever, and she doesn't even know it.

"yeah, why don't you come over and i'll show you?" you ask, as innocently as you can.

glancing over at wooyoung and seeing his smirk, you know he knows. the dipshit knows everything. but he isn't the type to rat you out. you hope.

seonghwa stands up, cluelessly looking at you and trying to figure out how to do this.

"sit down, silly." you pat the space in the sand between your legs.

he finally sits, slowly resting his back on the edge of the beach chair and closing his eyes. there, you have him right between your legs, in your hands. not the way you want, but you can still work your magic. his hair is soft between your fingers, and you swear you've never felt such hair on a man before. seonghwa is very neat, that you've noticed. not like all those men that you've dated. it feels nice to have someone so clean and pretty in your hands.

he sighs as you put pressure on his scalp, nails softly grazing him. he is having the time of his life, and you can't help but smile when he lets his head fall back, resting on the chair between your thighs. so close to your already leaking cunt. wonder if he can feel it.

"feeling better?" you ask, seeing that he isn't doing anything aside from breathing.

he doesn't answer. you continue your motions, watching his features carefully. he has the prettiest pink lips, and the most perfect eyebrows. he is just so... fresh. and young.

"seonghwa?" you call again.

no answer. you tug at a strand of hair gently, jolting him awake. what you didn't expect was the whine that escaped his lips, and you find yourself trying to squeeze your thighs together. he realizes his mistake, and looks at you with horror.

"y-yes?" he stutters.

"uh, i just-"

you are at a loss for words. he is so unintentionally submissive, it is driving you crazy.

"i think i'll go in the water."

and just like that, he grabs a floatie you had brought and almost runs to the water. your eyes follow his poor attempts at climbing the armchair shaped floatie, his hands continuously slipping from the water and slippery surface. he tries a few more times, until he almost gets it, but ends up falling back into the water and flipping the floatie upside down.

"god, what an idiot." his sister scoffs, putting on her sunglasses and hiding under her book.

"aw, stop. i'm gonna go help him." you laugh fondly, eager to get alone time with him.

"don't waste your time. jesus, look at him. i can't take it, please poke my eyes out."

you also wish to poke your eyes out. seonghwa is surrounded by three or four girls, all of them making sure he's okay, laughing and being all touchy with him. you're not liking that. you're not liking the way their nails are grazing his arms, while he is still processing what is going on around him. he is clueless, and only awkwardly smiles with them. for a split second, his eyes land on you, as if asking for help. but then he looks away, back to the girls, and relaxes. his mouth moves, and the girls go into a laughing fit. just what is he doing? he isn't that funny.

"huh. how about that. my brother can rizz up girls?"

"no offence, but nobody uses that word anymore." wooyoung chips in, and earns himself a smack on the back of his head.

"shut up. seriously though, look at him. and four at once? wait, where are you going?"

you almost throw the hat and kimono at your friend, and fix your hair. hell no.

"hey? i thought you aren't getting into the water today! why is everyone so weird today?" her voice is becoming distant, and the ones in front of you are getting louder.

ha-ha, so funny. you are dying to know just what it is that have them drooling over him and forcing their laugh.

"hwa?" you call, lowering your sunglasses just enough so he can look into your eyes.

"uh, yes?" he answers, completely smitten.

oh, yes.

if someone were to film you, the scene would really look like one from a movie where the rich older woman is seducing her pool boy, all while her husband is working up in his bedroom. and you like it. you adjust your bikini top, accidentally pushing your boobs together, and finally get into the water.

the girls have their eyebrows raised at you, and seonghwa only gulps. it's as if he knows he did something that is bothering you. behind the playful smirk you are giving him, he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. he knows he fucked up big time.

"having trouble with your floatie?"

"well, yeah, kinda. i got water in my ear and eyes."

"aw, you poor thing. let me see."

you cup his cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his closed eyes. the girls are scoffing, murmuring, and you would've felt very self conscious before. but this trip and seonghwa have fueled your confidence, and you are not scared of a pair of younger girls that know nothing more than to act dumb in front of him.

"feeling better?"

"yeah, real better. excellent in fact." he is a blubbering mess, looking between you and the girls.

"wanna get on the floatie with me?"

"yes."

"come on, then. say bye to your friends."

you swim off into deep water with the floatie, slow enough so he can catch up to you. you turn the floatie so that the backrest is turned towards the shore, and you are looking into the islands far away.

"go on, get on it."

"uh, i couldn't get on it in the shallow water. what makes you think-"

"seonghwa. get on the floatie."

he struggles again, wet hands slipping against the surface, now worse because you are right there, watching him. he finally climbs up, throwing his head back and exhaling.

"god, this was worse than the runs i do in the mornings back home."

he sits silent, eyes closed and sun bathing. when he hears nothing from you, he opens one eye, silently questioning why you aren't joining him. i mean, you came for that, didn't you?

"your headache still bothering you?"

"your massage helped, i did doze off for a while. until you started pulling my hair. which, by the way, what was that about?"

"it's going to sound stupid, but you seemed a bit too calm. i don't know. i fear those things."

"what, you thought i was dead?" he laughs.

"shut up, paranoia isn't that fun, you know? i'm currently in deep water, actually dying from fear that a shark will appear and feast on my legs."

"then get up here with me," he offers, patting the space next to him.

"oh, i'm fine right here." you place your hands on his knees, putting your body between his thighs.

"wh-what are you-"

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet."

"for what?"

"hush."

"noona-"

"hush i said." you pinch his thigh, earning a whimper. "now, be a good boy and hold my hair up so i don't make a mess. yet."

he looks at you wide eyed, finally realizing what your intention is. he gulps, feeling his swim shorts become tight. there's just something about your long nails grazing his skin and you giving him your best siren eyes from between his legs that is making his blood boil.

"hwa, baby, you have to stop being so stiff."

he melts in your hands at the nickname, and melts even more when you slip your hands in his shorts and gently pull him out. he is hard, and warm, and you can't wait to get your tongue on him. his hand finally reaches for your hair, pulling it in a messy ponytail and subconsciously guiding your head towards his cock.

"so impatient. again."

"sorry," he stops his movements.

you tease him, slowly running your thumb around his tip, not yet giving him the friction he needs. he squirms in your hands, unable to relax. he isn't used to risky situations like this. hell, he isn't used to a situation like this anywhere.

"hey," you call, seeing his panicked expression. when he looks at you, you can't help but smile fondly at him, and reach to move his long strands of hair out of his eyes. "i'll let you know if things get risky, like if anyone starts approaching. trust me. alright?"

"alright," he gulps.

"good."

wasting no time, you stick out your tongue, licking a stripe from the base up to his leaking tip, and pull him between your lips. his breath hitches, and his grip in your hair tightens. seonghwa throws his head back, letting his eyes roll and small sighs leave his lips.

using the chance when he's not looking, you pull your bikini top aside, letting your breasts fall free. you take his other hand, placing it gently on your now bare breast. he squeezes it subconsciously, making you hum around his cock. he tastes warm and salty, and you enjoy taking in every inch he has to give and explore it with your tongue. you just can't wait to sit on it. hopefully soon.

"i'm gonna cum- i think-"

you pull him out, making sure to make a popping noise on purpose.

"already?" you tease, still gently stroking him.

"sorry..." he looks down at you, blush creeping up his cheeks.

"it's okay, bun. just relax this time. we'll have plenty of chances to practice your patience."

"we will?" he asks, eyes full of hope as he looks into yours full of mischief.

"honestly..." you drag off, teasing him further, "...seeing you so confused and stiff, i'm starting to think you don't even want it."

"what? no! i- i do, really. you just- have me in a rather uncomfortable place."

flashing him a smile, you cup his face with your palms and bring his face close to yours. "kiss me."

"uh-"

"seonghwa."

"yes."

"kiss. me." your face morphs from the fun expression to a serious and lustful one. "now."

and like the good boy he is, he obeys. he leans in, lips softly pressing into yours. he is still stiff in your hands, and his lips are almost trembling. as much as you think it is cute, it is starting to drive you crazy. why can't he just rip your panties off and plunge his fingers inside you right there underwater?

switching the places of the impatient one, you pull him off the floatie and into the water, hands wrapping around his neck and lips desperately chasing his. he tastes like a fruit salad, which you watched him steal from yunho before they joined you in sun bathing. the fusion of watermelon, kiwi and pineapples is melting on your tongue, and you just can't help but feel up his body and grind yourself on him like an animal in heat. he isn't too different from you, hands reaching for anything he can grab; from your waist, to your neck and face. you notice that he isn't touching any areas that you really need to be touched.

you groan, pulling away from him.

"seonghwa, you're pissing me off."

"what? why?" he pulls away, but still rests his hands on your waist, afraid that you're going to run away from him if he lets go.

"it feels like i'm forcing you to do this. you don't seem to enjoy it, at all. not the way you're supposed to. if you want me to stop, you have to tell me that. you're giving me mixed signals here, all inviting and teasing from afar, and when i finally approach you, you're so stiff and nervous. like you're waiting for me to get over with it and leave."

the young man stays silent. that isn't the case. you have no idea how it is not that case at all. seonghwa is crazy about you, from your personality, to your body. you're a full package, but you are older, more experienced. and him? he's just a young man who doesn't know a thing about pleasing a woman, other than rubbing her until eventually she cums, whether it is a minute or thirty minutes later. fun, right?

"look, here's the deal. i will leave you alone, okay?" you reach to remove his long bangs out of his face, revealing his pretty eyes staring at you with mixed emotions. "if you decide to prove me wrong, don't do it with words. come search for me, show me what you want and how you want it, and we'll go from there. sounds good?"

"but i really want you, i just-"

"no more words i said, hwa. words are nothing at this point. you want me? you're gonna have to do something about it. before somebody else does. and i really need some relief these days, i might really cave into wooyoung."

god, not wooyoung. he can't lose you to wooyoung. not because he dislikes him or something, but because he dislikes the idea of seeing you with someone else. at least seeing you, well, relieved with someone else. he's not sure what view he has on you. it is clear you only want something physical, and something limited. something tied to this vacation spot and time. does he have the heart for that? he will fall for you, he knows it. if he hasn't already.

were your eyes always this pretty in the sun? was your hair always that satisfying to touch? and was your voice always this satisfying to his ears?

days pass fast when you're having fun. you're sadly looking over at the last packed bikini, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"oh, cheer up! your birthday is in like two hours!"

"oh, my bad. yay! i'm getting older!" you grab the bottled cocktail off the nightstand, sipping it.

"what has gotten up your asshole these days?" your friend is persistent.

"nothing, why would you think that?"

you hear a scoff, and you just have to roll your eyes. she stays silent for a few moments, looking at you through the mirror while she is getting ready for your birthday party. you had agreed on going for a group night swim after the countdown, but you are not feeling it. you always get sad on trips, knowing that they'll end soon and that you'll have to go back to your ordinary life. if only you could live here. with seonghwa.

what?

think straight. you cannot want something like that with him. he is so young, he should find someone his age. someone who doesn't make him sad, confused and stiff all the time. the opposite of you. it hurts your heart a little, but you remind yourself that this is only a crush that will fade, a summer fling that will pass. nothing to get yourself worked up for.

"you're so fucking depressed today, jesus. it's making me feel like shit too."

"i'm just a little homesick, that's all."

"lies. but okay, suit yourself."

you finally slip on the pink sequin dress you have bought specifically for this night. the faux feathers are tickling your skin, and you just can't wait to take it off. why are the prettiest things the most uncomfortable ones?

"wow, those heels make your legs look so hot! you're so bringing a guy here tonight."

with a glance at your pink glitter heels, you sigh. you want one guy. and it doesn't even have to be for the reason she thinks. you could just lay there, talk about old times and new times. with each second passing, it is becoming more difficult to keep your thoughts away from seonghwa. why is he so damn addicting?

"right, let's go."

the club is loud and busy, you have trouble finding the group. but when you do, you are glad. you are starting to feel more comfortable with them, and not being around them makes you feel a bit empty and bored. seeing them occupy the couch again puts a smile on your face, but when you notice one face missing, your face drops.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask before thinking.

"he left to get a drink, i think. strange, it's been fifteen minutes now. the bar isn't that busy."

glancing at the bar, you realize that san is telling the truth. the bar is almost empty, and seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. wooyoung takes his chance, expanding his hand for you to take. when you do, he gently pulls you so that you fall into his lap, and you can't help but laugh.

"rude."

"come on, is there a better seat here?"

you notice mingi taking secret glances at you friend, probably thinking whether or not he should make a similar move on her.

"so, want to play a classic?" yunho offers.

"games? come on, yunnie, we came to drink!"

yunho rolls his eyes at your friend, and brings the bottle of vodka to his lips. it is almost empty, and he downs it with no problem. he sets it in the middle of the table, giving it a spin. "who says there won't be drinking?"

wooyoung's hands are suddenly loose around you, and before you can look at him and ask what's wrong, a familiar figure joins the table. he looks absolutely ravishing.

his hair is a wavy mess, his linen white shirt half unbuttoned, and pants loosely hanging on his hips, exposing his v-line. fuck, you need him. you need him so bad that you almost start grinding on wooyoung for any friction.

"what are we doing?"

"playing some old truth or dare. spin?"

"sure."

he sits next to yunho, and spins the bottle. the bottom lands on san, the tip on your friend. he smirks, and you see that he is fighting the urge to look at mingi.

"truth or-"

"dare."

"ah, should've known already. i dare you to sit on mingi's lap."

mingi blushes furiously, glaring at san. your friend only rolls her eyes, much like yunho at her, and sits on mingi. "childish ass dare. do better, i'm already bored."

"oh, we're just getting started."

the game lasts half an hour, and so far, you have: kissed yeosang's cheek, because everyone likes to see him shy, drank five consecutive shots of tequila, told them some of your kinks, and accidentally rubbed your ass on wooyoung's crotch. he snickers, hands coming to your hips to keep you steady. you are feeling tipsy, but you still know what you're doing. right now, the tip of the bottle is pointing at you, while jongho is taking his sweet time thinking of a dare to give you.

"oh, oh! i got one for you!" hongjoong exclaims.

the older man whispers something into the younger one's ear, and the smirk that appears on his face makes you a little nervous.

"well?" you ask, voice a bit shaky with a nervous smile.

"i dare you to..."

why did you choose dare? why couldn't it be truth? you wanted to be fun. there you have it.

"spit it out, jongho. she's shaking." wooyoung says, annoyed.

"i dare you to drink that cocktail and kiss seonghwa with it. you know, make him drink it from your mouth."

time seems to stop for you. your eyes widen, scanning over the group. you are ready to spill out excuses and explanations, but when you see them cheer, your eyebrows scrunch. nobody is seeing anything suspicious about this? well, nobody except three people. you glance at seonghwa, who is frozen in his seat. his whiskey glass rests in his hand halfway up to his mouth.

he sets it back on the table, mentally preparing himself for what is about to happen. you will probably decline, say you see him as a childhood friend, and pick someone else to do it with instead. but when he sees you down the glass of piña colada and get up from your seat, he feels sweat wash over his body. you'll really do it. in front of his sister. in front of wooyoung. in front of everyone.

he thinks you look cute with your lips unintentionally pouting as you hold the liquid in your mouth. a fond smile creeps on his lips just before you sit on his lap, hands wrapping around his neck and lips finally pressing into his. he takes every single drop you give him, drinking it up along with the taste of your lips and tongue. already swaying a bit from alcohol, he forgets where he is for a moment. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, collecting the remains of the drinks and biting it along the way. you give in, tongue pushing past his lips and finding his.

"woah, woah! okay!"

"guys, that's enough."

but you don't stop. not when his hands are finally touching you how you want it. how you need it. his slender fingers find their spot in the back of your head, gently pulling your hair as he desperately kisses you. you whine in his mouth, pleasant pain spreading in your body. his other hand lands on your waist, pulling you closer into him so that you can only feel his scent and his warmth. only him in a room full of people.

"shit, live porn. how about that?" wooyoung snickers, downing another tequila.

"alright, guys!"

seonghwa is the first one to pull away, hazy eyes staring deep into yours. it only takes one look from you to show him that you know what he wants, and that you want it too.

"damn. my brother and my best friend making out. didn't think i'd see that in... well, ever."

"why are you complaining? you're making out with your brother's best friend."

"yeah, but seonghwa doesn't mind, do you?"

seonghwa hates that he has to remove his gaze from you to look at his sister. "why? you mind me kissing your best friend?"

"no, no. not at all. carry on. SOMEWHERE ELSE! disgusting."

seonghwa helps you stand, not letting go of your waist.

"i'll be borrowing this." you reach for the bottle of champagne that was meant to be opened on your birthday countdown. but you found a better use of it. "see you!"

you rush out of the club, pulling seonghwa by his wrist all the way to the shore. you push him into the ocean, cold water caressing your bodies as you keep walking deeper until it reaches your chest. seonghwa is quick to continue the makeout session he has started, and you don't complain. his lips are starved of your touch, kissing you like it's his first and last.

"wait, wait."

"what?"

you give him the bottle, offering a sip. he takes a long one, not once breaking eye contact with you. when he hands it back to you, you can't help the mischievous grin that appears on your face. he looks at you with amused eyes. you pour the champagne on your neck and chest in a slow stream, not caring about pollution or wasting at this point. seonghwa takes the signal, and grabs your waist so that he can pull you closer. his tongue licks up the champagne from your neck, chest and collarbones. you are a moaning mess in his hands.

"if i would've known that all you needed was a few shots and a high schooler game, i would've done it the first day." you admit.

the wet dress sticks to your body, making it difficult to move in the water. you gasp when you feel his fingers dip between your thighs, resting on the pink bikini you've put on. with a silent approval from you, he moves the bottoms under your dress aside, middle finger slipping past your folds and thumb circling your clit. you shake under his touch, feelings too overwhelming.

"let me make love to you."

he says it so romantically, as if he isn't knuckles deep inside of you right now.

"let me show you a different way. my way."

and you give yourself to him. dragging him back to the shore, lips not once leaving his. not caring if anyone around you is watching. your dress comes off with a few difficulties, but now that you're out of it, you feel like you can breathe freely. your bikini top soon joins the dress in the sand next to you, but the chain, heels and panties stay. seonghwa spills more champagne over your exposed chest, and proceeds to lick it all up like a starved man.

"should i take off my-"

"no, please. i want to fuck you with your heels on."

"oh? that a fetish of yours?"

he blushes a little, looking down at the sparkly heels shining in the distant club lights.

"i like glitter." he simply says.

his fingers are in a rush to take your panties off, but before he can discard them along with the rest of his and your clothes, you speak. "a little warning."

"yes?"

"i can be loud."

"how loud?"

"very."

the young man looks around for a moment, as if thinking about something important. then, he simply shrugs. "okay."

before you can react, he shoves the panties in your mouth, catching you by surprise. he strokes himself a few times, too impatient for any foreplay. there was enough teasing all these days, he knows you can't take it either.

his warm cock slides between your folds with ease, your walls hugging it tightly. he groans, and you moan around the panties. his hands grip your waist, but not the rough grip. the strong, yet gentle grip. he moves his hips sensually, like waves rather than thrusts. he raises your hips a little, angling them so that he can reach better. your eyebrows scrunch with pleasure, eyes looking up at him as a plea for more.

"i know, i know. feels good, doesn't it?"

you nod, rolling your hips to match his rhythm. sand sticks to your skin, the smell of his perfume and champagne is making you feel dizzy, and the grip on your hips is only getting stronger. you haven't felt such pleasure in a long time.

the tip of his cock rubs the sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine and moan through the wet fabric.

"oh, you were just made for me, weren't you? look how good you're taking me. all of it."

your eyes roll at his dirty talk, and you promise yourself there that this won't be the last time you're hearing it.

"fuuuck..." he trails, plunging his hips into yours and touching your cervix along the way. he continues the hard but slow pumps, getting lost in the warm feeling of you. "fuck, you're so pretty for me. look at you, you fit in my hands like a perfect doll."

is that size kink coming from him? if yes, you are having so much fun finding out about him in a situation like this.

you whimper, feeling your orgasm approaching. he doesn't notice, instead, he is so lost in his own pleasure that he barely feels you clawing at his back as you cum hard on his cock.

"huh? what's that? you want more?"

tears drop down your cheeks, overwhelming pleasure washing over your body. you can't take it, but seonghwa doesn't ask. he only holds you in place, slowing his pace and giving you time to relax and regain composure.

but what's the use, when as soon as you calm from your high, he starts snapping his hips into yours again? you now shamelessly tug at his hair, not sure if it's from pain or pleasure. but both is good to you.

"fuck, can i cum in you?"

you nod, and if you could, you'd beg him to do so. seonghwa gets down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. you desperately groan into his ear, moving your hips with his movements. seonghwa's moves gradually become sloppy, losing the collected sensual waves and instead opting for harsh thrusts, tip of his cock touching your cervix and leaving your body shaking in his arms.

fireworks paint the sky, just like seonghwa paints your walls with his seed. your orgasm washes over you once again, and you feel yourself get slippery down there. he doesn't stop, helping both of you ride it out as fireworks keep going off above you.

seonghwa is the first to gain his consciousness, carefully removing the panties from your mouth. while you are still catching your breath, he kisses your tears away.

"hey?"

you hum, looking up at the colorful explosions.

"did i hurt you?"

"in normal circumstances, i would've said i wish. but this? you just made me never wish for rough sex again."

he only chuckles, then takes his discarded shirt from the small pile. he helps you sit up, then covers you with his shirt.

"thank you, hwa."

he puts his pants back on, sitting next to you. he grabs the bottle of leftover champagne, taking a sip before offering you one too. you take it, resting your head on his shoulder.

"happy birthday, noona."

"oh, you seriously have to stop that."

as you both laugh and stare at the reflection of the moon on the ocean surface, you can't help but feed the small hope you almost killed today. maybe seonghwa doesn't have to be a faded crush or a summer fling.

"say, when we get back, do you want to go out someti-" he starts, as if he read your thoughts.

"yes." you interrupt, planting a kiss on his cheek.

🐬feedback greatly appreciated! 💙

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