#this thing has been in my mind for ages! finally I let it out!

[carnalcrows]

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt. 

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point. 

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach. 

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[paradoxicalwritings]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ◦ smut, drinking, mature content, mdni

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 ◦ nsfw | fem!reader | reader is a writer | college tsukishima | tsukishima but a little sweeter | drinking | drunken confessions | reconnecting with high school crush | tipsy!smut | 3.4k words

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ◦ haikyuu masterlist ◦ navigation

𝐯.𝐢.𝐩. ◦ @takes1

It’s funny how the world works. When you walked into your favorite cafe in Sendai, you didn’t expect to see him. You also didn’t expect him to look as good as he did. His hair that always had a slight curl to it was now much longer, touching his ears now, his new glasses fit his face shape much better now and gave him a much more put together appearance, not to mention he was muscular now.

As you waited for your mocha to be done, you contemplated talking to him. It has been well over two years, and it’s not like you two were on bad terms when you last talked; the two of you just loved tangoing over the lines of annoyance and fondness. 

“Mocha with an extra shot of espresso!” the barista called out, setting down your paper cup. You thanked them, drumming your fingers against the cup as you steeled your resolve. 

You leaned into Tsukishima’s line of sight, smiling, “I didn’t know you were allowed in places like this, Goliath.”

For just a second, he was taken aback, but in typical Tsukishima fashion he didn’t let himself be without a retort. He pretended as though he couldn’t see you, looking above your head, “Where did that sound come from?” He looked down, directly into your eyes, “Oh, that’s where that irritating sound came from.”

You both stopped for a second, just staring into each other’s eyes, taking the other in, then you both started laughing. You always found his laugh particularly beautiful. It was higher pitched than his normal voice, with a slight scratch to it. Even when he managed to cross the line between fun jabs and mean comments, his honey-sweet laugh softened the blow.

The chair screeched against the hardwood floor as you pulled it out to sit in front of him. He shut his laptop and propped his chin on his fist, “To what do I owe the pleasure, (Y/N)?”

You took a sip of your drink, “Pure coincidence, I fear.” You looked him up and down from your seat, you still couldn’t believe how different he looked, “What have you been up to, Tsukishima?”

He looked off, pretending that he didn’t want to drink in your appearance, “Well, Uni, of course, as well as the volleyball team. I recently started working at a museum though.”

You smiled, working at a museum was just so him. It made your heart ache, how despite not being in contact for multiple years, he was still the same high school boy you tried to one up every single day, “That’s exactly like you.”

You saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks, he always got embarrassed when you would point out things about him that you happened to notice, “How about you, finally doing anything interesting?”

That was always his go to jab, that you had such a boring life. You didn’t join a club in high school, instead choosing to have your own private hobbies. “Har har, Tsukki,” you took another sip of your mocha, toying with the cardboard sleeve, “I actually came here to work on my book.”

Your mind flooded back to second year, when Tsukishima happened to see you writing in your journal for the first time. You liked hand writing stories, ever since you were a kid. The genre and themes were always different; sometimes horror, other times coming of age, you even branched out into sci-fi for a time. That year you had grown a particular penchant for romance. Tsukishima grabbed your notebook from in front of you, and started reading it aloud. Your face burned in embarrassment. You got on your tiptoes, even jumping to try to grab it back, but he held it out of reach, continuing to read it. You eventually gave up, sitting in your seat with your face buried in your hands. You heard the journal be gently set on your desk. You looked up at Tsukishima, the tips of his ears pink, “You’re good at writing. You should keep doing it.”

Tsukishima looked at you, “Really, what’s this one about?”

You hummed in thought, remembering the books you said it was similar to when talking to your publisher, “Have you read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishigo, or watched Good Will Hunting?”

He chucked, “You know I haven’t.”

You laughed too, whenever you brought up a specific book or movie and asked him if he’d seen it, it was always a no, “You’re right, I don’t know why I asked.”

The two of you talked for hours, neither of you doing any of the work you meant to get done. Neither of you really noticed the time passing, and it felt as though the two of you never stopped talking, just picking up where you left off two years ago. You both silently wished that you could stay like this forever, but Tsukishima, ever the practical one, just had to look at his watch. You say his eyes widen for a second, then looking at you, “You still have my number right?”

“Uhh, yea, why would I get rid of it?”

Tsukishima scrambled to pack his bag, “Okay, I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay?”

🏐ˎˊ˗

You had been home for probably two hours. Your eyes were strained from staring at your laptop screen, reading the same paragraphs over and over again. Whoever said “If you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life,” was a liar. You pinched your nose bridge while you waited for your water to boil for pasta.

You heard your phone vibrate from the counter next to you. You picked it up, flashing the screen on to see who was calling. As soon as you saw the first three letters you answered, feeling the same warmth as you did when you first saw him at the cafe, “Hello?”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

You pressed the phone between your shoulder and ear as you poured the box of dried pasta into the pot, “Cooking dinner, why?”

“Ah okay.” You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“You can come over, if you want to.” You prayed that he would, “Only if you bring a bottle of Chianti over though.”

He chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound making your body buzz, “Of course, send me your address.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You grabbed your phone, quickly sending the blonde your address and unit number. This whole thing felt so surreal. When you woke up this morning you weren’t expecting this at all. Part of you wondered if the red string of fate was real and the two of you were meant to meet in that cafe today. You knew Tsukishima would say that that was ridiculous and it was just purely coincidence.

After about fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You walked down your hallway and looked through your peephole, seeing Tsukishima standing there, shifting from foot to foot and looking down the hall. You pulled your door chain lock off and opened the door, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

The two of you just stared at each other. This really was a turn of events. Neither of you expected to be having dinner with someone else, much less each other. You broke your gaze, pulling the door open wider, stepping to the side, “Come in, I’m almost done.”

“Right.” He stepped past you, holding the bottle of wine up for you, “Is this the right one? I don’t buy wine that often.” 

You grabbed the bottle from him, and snickered in your mind as you shook your head, “No… This is the wrong one.” You saw a look of “Oh shit,” wash over his face before you laughed, “I’m kidding, this is perfect.” Making your way back to the kitchen, you looked again at the label, noticing the brand, “This is actually more expensive than the one I usually buy.”

Tsukishima followed after you, “Do you prefer cheap wines?”

You sighed dramatically, “You know I’m a writer, right?”

He leaned against the counter behind you, “Well, guess it’s good that I’m here to spoil you then.”

Your cheeks got warm at that comment. Spoil you? He wanted to spoil you? Was he flirting with you? Not that you minded. Let’s just say your love of romance in second year wasn’t just because you were in those boy crazy teenage years. No, you were crazy for one particular boy back then. You plated the pasta, and handed it to him, “We can sit on the balcony, if that’s okay with you.”

Tsukishima nodded, “Yea, that sounds nice.”

The two of you walked out to your balcony, the cool breeze feeling nice after being in your sweltering kitchen. You looked at the small table between the two of you, noticing a distinct lack of wine, “Oh crap, let me go grab the wine.” You noticed his eyes linger on your legs as you stood up. 

You rifled through your cupboards for a second wine glass, not finding one. How sad were you that you never even bothered to buy a second wine glass for the possibility of guests? You sighed, relenting to your fate of being teased for drinking alone. You grabbed a tall water glass and your wine glass, walking back to the balcony.

And you were not ready for the sight in front of you, not that it was particularly notable to anyone besides you. Tsukishima was sitting in your balcony chair, arm propped on his knee, bent wrist supporting his chin. The lights of the city and the moon lit up his features. You shook your head, opening the door to the balcony, “Sorry, I don’t have a second wine glass.”

He smirked up at you as you poured wine into the water glass for him, “Not surprising that you don’t have guests.”

You sighed, shaking your head, “I fear you’re getting predictable, Tsukki.”

He took his glass from you, looking wistfully over the railing of your balcony, “You know you can call me Kei, right?”

You paused your own pouring. You could call him Kei? Sure you two talked throughout high school, but you hadn’t realized he viewed you as close enough for that. You resumed your pouring, “Right, Kei.”

The two of you ate in near silence, Kei making some remarks on how good the food was and how he never paired wine with his food. Eventually, the two of you finished eating and started just drinking the wine. It wasn’t long before you started feeling a bit of a buzz, and you were sure he was feeling it as well.

The conversation had taken a more playful and nostalgic turn as the two of you continued to drink. You went back and forth telling stories you remembered of each other from high school. Kei was leaned back in his chair, legs spread wide, and his head lolling back, looking towards you, “Do you remember that one guy in our third year class who was obsessed with you?”

You laughed, “Yea, you had to scare him off every single day.” 

He shrugged, taking a sip of his wine, “I don’t know how he never took the hint.”

You sighed, “Teenage boys can be like that,” the conversation went quiet for a pause, you chuckled, swirling your wine glass, “I think that was the only guy who ever had a crush on me in high school.”

Kei looked out over the balcony, “That’s not true.”

You scoffed, “Who else did?”

He looked towards you, his amber eyes intense, “I did.”

You choked on your wine, setting your glass down as you tried to compose yourself, “You what?”

He laughed, “God, you are dense,” he set his own glass down, “I had a crush on you since first year of high school.”

You groaned, your face in your hands, “Did you actually or are you fucking with me right now?”

Kei rolled his eyes, “I’m an asshole, but I’m not so much of an asshole that I would lie about that.”

You felt long slender fingers touch your own, pulling them away from your face. Kei was leaning down to make eye contact with you, “I think you liked me too.”

You blushed, averting your eyes. You were caught. You were enamored with him in high school. The witty banter, the care hidden below layers of nonchalance, the passion that bloomed like peonies in spring, everything that no one else noticed about him; you did. The small things that no one else could articulate about him made your heart swell with love for him. You gripped his fingers with your own, “I more than liked you.” 

You felt your arm be tugged forward, then you felt soft, thin lips against your own. This was everything you prayed for, for years, when you were in school. You would look at him as he gazed out the window of your classroom, acting as if whatever topic the teacher was talking about was below him, and imagine those pouted lips against your own. But this felt better than any of those fantasies. Your hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the blonde curls just as soft as you imagined they were. Kei’s hand pulled you impossibly deeper into the kiss by the nape of your neck.

Kei pulled back, his hand still on your neck, and while staring into your eyes and said, “We should go to your room.”

You nodded your head, a little kiss drunk, and pulled him by the hand to your bedroom. Kei was on you as soon as you crossed the threshold, his long fingers knotting into your hair, his glasses pressing uncomfortably into your nose, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you cared about was having the man you had pined over for years in your bed. He walked you back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, the both of you toppling over due to the wine.

Kei was leaning over you on his elbows, his head dropping onto your collarbone as you both laughed. Kei gestured with his head upwards, “Scoot up, I wanna be on the bed too.” You both moved up until your head was on your satin pillowcases, the blonde was on his knees over you, “You have no idea how many times I thought about it.” 

You smirked up at him, “Show, don’t tell.” 

He laughed breathily, “God, I missed you.” The two of you started fumbling to remove each other’s clothing, squeezing in sloppy kisses on the other’s body whenever possible. 

When Kei was about to remove your pants, your face burned, “My panties are ugly.”

Kei squinted at you, his glasses having been long abandoned at this point, “I don’t think there’s anything I care about less right now.” He pulled your pants and underwear off in one swoop. He was kneeling between your legs, staring at you, almost in reverence, “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you said breathily. 

That was all it took for Kei. In his left hand, he grabbed behind your knee and pushed it towards your chest. In his right hand, he ran his fingers up and down your slit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, whispering “You’re so wet already,” against your skin. When he finally inserted a finger you sighed gratefully, head thrown back.

Kei stared at you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, not taking long to add a second. 

“Mmmhnn-- Kei, just-just like that.”

Kei smiled down at you, “Yea? Yea, you like that?”

You pressed your forearm against your eyes, “Mmmyes, please don’t stop.”

He brought his thumb up to swirl around your clit, feeling light headed at the sound of your moans beneath him. Your back arched off of your plush mattress, “Ooh my God-- Kei!”

He let out a tense breath, like he was trying to contain himself, “Cum on my fingers, baby.” 

That was the final push that you needed, the tightness in your stomach snapping, pussy pulsing around his fingers. You threw the arm that was covering your eyes down to your side, and when you did, you saw Kei sucking on his soaked fingers. He looked absolutely debauched, as though this was his final meal and he wanted to savor it.

Once he noticed you staring, he leaned down to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled back the kiss, “Like how you taste?”

You sat up, smirking at him, “I think I’ll like how you taste better,” but just as you were about to grab his dick, he grabbed your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna cum immediately if you touch me right now.” 

You giggled, kissing his neck, “You act like such a virgin.”

“Careful, (Y/N).” He pinned both of your legs to your chest with one hand, “Too much teasing, and I might decide to stop.”

You reached your hand around your thighs, spreading your soaked lips for him to see, “No, you won’t.”

He groaned at the right, “Fuck, you’re right. I wouldn’t stop if the damn building was on fire.” He slapped his cock against your pussy, once, twice, three times, and slid the head through your folds. Finally, when he felt like he was sufficiently lubed with your juices, he pushed his long, thick cock in.

The two of you moaned in sync, the feeling of finally having the other was cathartic. It was the same feeling as the loss of tension in your body when you finally make it back home after a long work trip. 

Kei’s thrusts were hard and fast, but not necessarily rough. It was just like him, seeming so intimidating and uninterested from the outside, but once you break down his walls and see him for who he really was, he was just a big softie who noticed every little thing about you. 

His head dropped down, his forehead resting against your legs, “(Y/N)... Mmmnn, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

You reached your hands up, one gripping at his shoulder, and the other at his hair, “That’s okay, it’s okay, I just want you, Kei.”

He groaned, “Especially when you talk like that…”

Kei’s thrusts started to stutter, rhythm being thrown off slightly. You knew he was about to cum, and you were goading him on. You moaned breathily about how good he felt, how badly you wanted him. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he pulled out, rubbing his cock a few times before spilling on the underside of your thighs.

The two of you laid there, absolutely spent, for a few minutes. Kei was the first one to move, grabbing some tissues from your bedside to clean you off. 

When he was finished wiping off his spend, he laid down, and pulled you on top of him. You giggled at him, not expecting him to be such a cuddle bug, “That was really good, Kei.”

You felt him pout against your shoulder, “Yeah, and we could have been doing that for years if you were honest with me.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you squirmed in his grasp, trying to playfully smack him, “You could have told me too!”

He groaned sleepily, “Stop being so lively, just go to bed.” You stilled, and laughed breathily into his hair, deciding he was right and letting sleep take you into its loving arms.

🏐ˎˊ˗

You awoke with a groan at the sound of Kei’s obnoxious ringtone. You leaned on your elbows, watching him answer his phone.

His voice was still rough with sleep, “Hello?”

You could vaguely hear Yamaguchi through the phone, something about “Are we still meeting up for breakfast today?”

Kei’s eye’s shot open, throwing the blanket off of himself, “Shit, right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’m so sorry.” 

He hung up the phone, threw it onto your bed, and dressed in a hurry. Just as he was about to rush through your door without saying anything to you, he kissed your forehead and said, “I’ll Doordash some breakfast for you.” Kei scrambled out of your bedroom, yelling “I’ll be back soon!” down your hallway.

You turned over onto your stomach, burying your face into your plush pillow, and just laughed. It was funny how the world worked.

𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬

@staincastle for the tsukishima header

[yinyuedijun]

since it is on the brain tonight. have one of my favourite (very very long) scenes of desire path backstory (happened in both versions of the fic, og and current)

(tw implied child abuse and incest)

background: you've just been adopted into the itoshi household and have had a really hard time opening up. sae hears you crying in your bedroom every night. here, he finally decides to try and help you. you're about 6 here, sae is 8.

___

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK? It's your job as the eldest.

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He hadn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

[aldisobey]

vibes, we can take turns driving towards the fucked up shit we see

These breakdowns are goddamn fuel. These are the things right here.

>>> You're taking away the only reprieve from his constant mental frenzy (sleep) from a man who already has a natural propensity to spiral into overthinking. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Sure, maybe with time he’d learn to manage it, flip a switch, regulate it somehow. But for now? For now, Emmrich lives in his goddamn head 24/7, dreaming up every scenario imaginable.

THIS. Emmrich is an anxious overthinker that struggles to remain living in the present. He’s a man of ritual and rigour. The changes of flesh to bone interrupt so many of those things? And he has so much time now? We’re assured he’s still fully possessed of himself, Solas mentions ‘what’s left anyway’ or whatever. But really. For his daily life, the things he loves and delights in, what he uses as distraction, to sate curiosity, hunger, lust, it’s all different. Gods I. I’m mad at the game for how easy they make it look.

>>> When he finally returns to wherever he and Rook call home, Rook’s standing there like, Hey, nice to see you again, it’s been four months.

And I’m so glad you mentioned this because exactly. He doesn’t have his flesh rigours anymore. He’s gonna fucking hyperfocus on a single thing to keep his mind from wandering to the less pleasant thoughts. And time has no meaning, he doesn't need to sleep. He’ll be managing panic or anxiety by studying that slip of the Fade and then he’s in it and chilling for a day, and exactly what you described. I don’t know if you’ve watched or read Frieren, but it’s a softer take on that, absolute love for that series so far.

>>> absolutely piss yourself waking up in the middle of the night to a skull on the pillow next to you.

Thank you thank you for writing this out before in that wip haha. Because YEAH FUCK THAT. And I know I’m an outlier, I’m demi or something, you got the hottest person at my door begging for favor and imma nope and go find some creature from the deep that understands me and yaps (and I’d still do a little AAA about a skelly in bed okay). And I know that’s not a norm lol. Quite possible to fall completely in love with the ‘being’ soul bit and not the ‘physical’, flesh is clothes for me, but you know what that doesn’t make it easier when you love and delight in someone’s style, their smile, the way the eyes light or that brow crooks.

You still love ‘them’ but that was part of them? It’s gone now and it’s okay to mourn while you learn the other. I mean I’m a lady that lives pretty cis and goes by Al and is fine with any pronouns. In a way we all make a glamours daily, and our bodies are part of it. But your partner is going to fall in love with all the dressing too, it’s the little things in life that we love about each other. It’d be horror to lose in a snap.

Emmrich becomes bones overnight. Rook still loves him completely but what is that going to look like. Gotta figure that out. And when Emmrich is putting on the old glamour it’s gonna make Rook think you’re regretting all this, AND it’s traumatizing because he LOVED those parts and they’re gone now. Is Emmrich trying to help him cope or holding onto before because the glamour is invoking pain because that’s not truly him anymore. Didn’t Emmrich give that up? Didn’t he want this instead? I don’t know I’m treading carefully in my writing with trans allegory as well because I know it can tie in close to this. And I do NOT think of Emmrich as a monster for wanting to change, he’s gonna be a monster because he’s not letting the one he loves change in the way they want (aging, dying all that jazz) because he fears losing them.

Well Rook already watched you die. Rook already has to learn to love the new you. The least Emmrich could do is go to lich therapy and learn to love the new aging Rook every day instead of forcing a dead glamour on ‘em. Life is chaos and change okay, death is stability and control, you need both in some balance to really thrive, but weigh too heavily in one and boop bones.

>>> Emmrich’s thoughts are the plague…. You learn to live with the scars.

Allow me to throw my pot in the park Diogenes style and be an unseemly mess spitting at rich folk because I need to think more about alllll of this as well. And yeah silly game silly characters look at me spending all this time writing and ‘philosophizing’ about it. BUT DAMn okay

Bless your write ups, still make my day every time I see ‘em and keep all the words tucked way to mull over later and say ‘hey yeah you can write, post that shit k being perceived ain’t that bad’. Ya got me in my thoughts going places.

First line page wip share thing

tagged by the ever prosely poetic @emmg go read hers now if you like dark lich stuff holy shit

I don’t know who’s been tagged but I’m nudging @thievinghippo (so you can check that above out. no pressure to share but goodness tag me if you do) but sincerely anyone share and tag me, I delight in creations.

This is a rough piece from current work I’m getting at. Not a first line but the bit I’ve got that seems best without further explanation lol it’s a rough cut okay I need to chew more but enjoy?

Emmrich was completely bare. No adornments. No glamor. Simple, plain, and yet dimly starting to glow.

The bones of his hand, all that remained, clung tight to chest. Clenched in, wrapped round rib. Held tight, quivering tips rattling soft beneath sheets. Whispers of green began a sound like so many wings of beetles. Wove hushed in the numerous moving parts of his wrist. Started to pulse as heart. The waves birthed within the pieces of him, a swarm spreading reverberations throughout his skeleton. Calmed the racing heat, pressed down rising panic with power that’d beget plague. All Rook might hear is hum. The Lich consumed, all encompassing as the gnashing millions choked on fear.

It passed. Suppressed in all those grinding maxillae.

The eternal flame slept beside him. His beloved. Forever finally his and there lurked flame before his sight. Flickering. Finite. Holding his being within it, love. Death.

Most nights, should Rook desire, he would wander Fade with him. Taking to pleasant scapes where they might enjoy whatever a master of the space might make of it. And yet…Emmrich could not control his appearance after all these months. His lich form might flicker, the mortal frame return, and Rook would immediately draw away. Glamour. He’d say. Nightmare. Don’t wear your dead face. Was it too painful? Was he trying that hard to love the other? Perhaps the memory was too fresh.

Rook woke, still asleep. Blinking. Eyes closed and moving as one might expect the dead. He didn’t speak during these movements. Would drift back to Fade soon. But he liked to wrap Emmrich’s hands, and his body kept memory of the exact time a mortal professor awoke.

[ngmn2002]

Letting my thoughts run wild "Nene and the full moon" issue.

Ok, so... in ch 26/27 we got to know Nene's life is coming to an end soon, when Mirai touched her and tried to move her time forward.

Her eyes are open, doll? And she lies lifeless in Hanako's "overprotective" arms…

Then they are closed?

Maybe he closed them?

Anyway, is "she is dying soon" the only thing we learned from there? Or maybe... we got to see other things?

Let's take a look at the surroundings... when Nene's time is moved by Mirai... it's night? We can also see the 'full' moon from the window.

After things were back to normal and the day went by... this is how the moon of that day looked like:

Nowhere near a full moon.

So? It seems the time around Nene also moved forward to how it is supposed to be the day she "dies" in?

Which means she is supposed to die at a night with a full moon? And...

It looks like Nene's time stopped at 12?

So that makes it... 12 am? aka midnight?

That makes it, she is supposed to die at the middle of a full moon night? (at school maybe?) ********

From our last event:

Is this related in anyway? Is there a deeper connection between Nene and the 'full' moon? or even better the boy whose name evokes 'moon'. The moon of the sotry... wait.. who is that boy again? Deeper than we may think?

Makes me wonder! ☆

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 17,383

—  warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie

—  author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️

—  playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno

MASTERLIST

The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.

Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.

It’s pretty bad.

Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.  

Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.

On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.

Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.

As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.

“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.

Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.

While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.

As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.

That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.

But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.

On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.

For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.

When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.

Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.

Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up.  Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.   

Then, the pain knocks you up.

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep.  “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.

Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.

Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.

Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.

Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.  

Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.

In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.

A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation.  When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.

“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”

Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.

“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.

“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”

Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.

“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.

“How long have I been here?” you ask.

It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.

“Almost two days,” she informs.

“Oh,” you simply say.

Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.

When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.

On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.

Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.

“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.

“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.

If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.

“How are they?” you ask.

“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”

You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.

“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.

A tear runs down your face.

“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”

You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.

“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”

A little giggle escapes your lips.

“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.

She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”

Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.

“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.

“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”

“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”

You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.

When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.

But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.

The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.

Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.

Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.

You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.

Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.

Why?

Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.  

There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.

When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.

A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.

“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.

Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.

“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.

“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”   

His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.

“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.

“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”

“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.

There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.

“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”

“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”

“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.

Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.

“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.

Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.

“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.

She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.

“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”

“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”

An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.

On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.

For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.

“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.

She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.

Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.

“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”

You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.

Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.

Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.

“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.

She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.

“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”

She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.

“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.

“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.

Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.

After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.  

The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.

The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.

A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.

“Hi,” you say.

For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform;  he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.  

“Hi,” he walks closer to you.

His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.

“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.

“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”

Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.

“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.

Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.

“You still remember…”

“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”

You giggle as you remember it.

“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”

Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.

“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.

It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.

“That was nice of you,” you gently say.

“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.

“No, no,” you shake your head.

Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.

“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you say.

Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.

“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”

“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.

“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”

Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.

A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.

“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”

Jungkook seems definitely concerned.

“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”

He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.

You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.

Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.

Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.

Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.

However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.  

It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.  

Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.

Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.

“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”

Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.

You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.

“I’ve found our son.”

Seventeen years ago

As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.

Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.

Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.

The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.

Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.

“Jungkook,” someone screams.

He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi,” you reply.

Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.

“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.

“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.

Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.

This scene seems unreal to him.

After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t worry,” he replies.

Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.

“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”  

Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.

But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.

Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.

Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.

“I’m pregnant,” you admit.

Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.

“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”

“It’s yours,” you inform him.

Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”

“Right,” he nods.

You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.  

“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.

Tears start running down your face again.

“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”

Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.

“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.

“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”

The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.

“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”

You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.

“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.

“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.

The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.

“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.

Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.

From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.

Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.

Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.  

Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.

Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.

This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.

The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!

The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.

Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.

“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.

“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.

“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.

His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.

At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.

“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.

His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.

“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”  

The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.

At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.  

“About?” he asks.

It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now.  You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.

“About our baby,” you answer.

Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.

“About Sunny,” you add.

Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.

A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.

“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”

For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.

“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.

Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.

The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.

“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.

Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.

“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”

Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.

“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”  

You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.

“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”

It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.

“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”

“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.

“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”

It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.

“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”

His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.   

“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”

For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.

That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.

“What’s his name?” you ask.

Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.

“Taemoo,” he answers.

That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.

Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.

The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.

“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes look up at you.

“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”

“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.

“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”

“Say that to Minho,” you retort.

Jungkook giggles.

“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”

After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.   

So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.

Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.

“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”

His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.

Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”

There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.

Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.

So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.

“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”

His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”

You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.

“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”

As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.

“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”

Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.

Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.  

A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.

“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”

You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.

“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.

A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.

As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.

“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.

His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.  

This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.

“I am Taemoo,” he continues.

As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.

“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.

Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.

“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.

“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.

“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.

For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.

“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.

As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.

“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.

“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.

Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”

“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”

Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.

“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”

You try to clean your face to compose yourself.

“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.

“I’m glad you came.”

Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”

It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.

“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”

But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.

For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.

“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.

“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.

“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”

This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.

“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”

It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.

“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”

There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.

His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.

“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.

“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”

You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.

“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.

Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.

“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.

At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.

“What are you reading?”

You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.  

“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.

“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”

Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.

“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.

“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.

Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.

“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.

He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.

“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.

Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.

Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.

“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”

“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.

He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room.  The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.

Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.

It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.

For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.

Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.

Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.

“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.

You look at him with suspicion.

“Let’s see,” you mumble.

Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.

Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.

He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.

Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.

“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.

“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”

Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.

“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”

Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.

“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”

Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.

“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.

It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.

“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.

“It is,” you smile at him.

It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.

After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.

“So, what do you think?”

“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.

“I know,” he says.

This is definitely very thoughtful of him.

Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.

“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.

“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.

“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”

You roll your eyes while giggling.

“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.

“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”

A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.

You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.

Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.

“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.

“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”

Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.

The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.  

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.

Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.

“Sure,” you nod.

“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.

The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”

Well, he felt that.

“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”

Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.

“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”

Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.

“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”

His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.

“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”

His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you. 

“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.

Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.

“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.

You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.

Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.

“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.

“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.

His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.    

“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”

You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.

The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other. 

This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.

When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment. 

“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.

Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.

Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.

He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.

After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.  

When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.

“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he says.

Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.

“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”

Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.

There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.

“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.

You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.

The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.

After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.

“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.

“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.

He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”

His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.

You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.

Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.

“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.

“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.

You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.

“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”

“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”

The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.

“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.

You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.

Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.

His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.

“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.  

Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.

“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.

“No problem,” he answers.

Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.

“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.

Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body. 

“Could you please do it?” he nods.

Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.

There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.

The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.

Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”

“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.

Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.

“Thanks for your help,” you say.

As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.

Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.

Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest.  His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.

Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.

In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. 

You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.  

Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.   

Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment. 

Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck. 

Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.

Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.  

“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper. 

Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.

“Sorry,” you say.

Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”

Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”

“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.

For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.

“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”

Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.

His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.

Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.

Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.

His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked. 

“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.” 

The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.

Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.

“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify. 

Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.

“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.

He doesn’t want to cause any more pain. 

“Absolutely,” you reassure him.

Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.

As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.

“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’. 

With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin. 

While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you. 

Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.

“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.  

His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core. 

“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin. 

You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.

As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.

“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.

Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.

It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.

But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.

“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him. 

You need him, in ways you can’t even express. 

The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room. 

Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore. 

The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.

The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster. 

“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck. 

This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you. 

“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.  

Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.    

“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.   

His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.

He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder. 

As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving. 

“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.   

Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. 

For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.  

Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.

Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.

“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.

The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.

“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”

Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.

“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.

This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.

“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.

“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.

You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.

“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.

Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.

“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.  

Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”

Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.

“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.

“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”

Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.

“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.

“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.

“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.

“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.

You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.  

After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.

Three weeks later

You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.

“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.

Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.

“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”

Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”

Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.

“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.

Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.

“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”

For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.

The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.

This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.

You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.    

[strang3lov3]

Jingled Balls

What has four paws and ruins not only Joel’s Christmas, but his orgasm, too?

Alternatively, you and your cat stay with your dad’s best friend over Christmas.

Tags - dbf!joel, smut, age gap, unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, JOEL JORKS IT IN THE SHOWER, sexual tension, blow jobs, rough/angry sex, first aid, Joel is all grumpy and the target of all sorts of misadventures including but not limited to cat claws in Joel's balls and his butt cheeks, cats pushing shit off of Joel's counter, destroying Joel's house, etc. Some mentions of blood and injury but it’s not bad, I promise. 6.8k words. A/N - this fic is based on a true story of real crimes that have been committed by my dear Gizmo. Names have been changed out of respect for the victims. @endlessthxxghts thank you for editing babyyy i'd be lost without ya

My submission for @beefrobeefcal’s festive failure! I hope everyone has a safe holiday!!

December 20

Joel twiddles his fingers as he waits by a row of empty seats at the baggage claim area of the Austin airport, trying not to pace. He got here too early, been waiting a couple hours for your flight to land. He just couldn’t sit still at home. Already twice cleaned the house top to bottom, fluffed the guest room pillows three times each. 

You. You’re staying with Joel this Christmas. It was a last minute thing; your family, well…they forgot about you. It wasn’t intentional, all accidental. Your parents offered up every and any extra amount of room they have to extended family and in doing so, gave away your old room. Whoops. 

And so Joel got a call from your dad, his best friend. Joel was supposed to spend Christmas with your family anyway, so your dad reached out to Joel to ask if he’d be willing to take you in while you visit Austin for the week. Joel, of course, didn’t hesitate to say yes. He’d do anything for you, the sweet little girl he watched grow up. He’s missed you a lot since you left home. 

Finally, there you are. He’d recognize your smile anywhere. You wave excitedly at Joel, doing your little jog to greet him. Joel takes long steps to meet you halfway, in total disbelief at how grown up you are. Where did the time go? It was only yesterday that you were barely tall enough to reach Joel’s waist, and that was standing on your toes. He remembers teaching you to ride a bike and cleaning up your scraped knees with hydrogen peroxide, and after he bandaged you up he’d let you punch him in the arm as hard as you could to make it square. Look at you now - a beautiful woman, all grown up. 

You set your carry-on on the ground and wrap your arms around Joel, squeezing him so fucking tight it steals the oxygen right from his lungs, not that he minds. But the way you kiss his cheek makes his skin burn and his heart pound harder.

“Joel,” you whisper excitedly, hugging him tighter.

Joel lets out a wheezy chuckle. “Hey, kiddo. I missed ya,” he tells you. “S’been too fuckin’ long.” 

“Indeed,” you agree. 

Joel notices the suitcases from your flight begin to come out on the conveyor belt and squeezes your side twice to alert you, “Better go grab your suitcase, hm?”

“Oh, yeah. Duh. Here–” you laugh, pulling away from Joel to bend down. You pick up your carry on and put it in Joel’s arms, and he grunts at the surprising weight. “Hold this. Be right back.”

Joel inspects the boxy bag you placed in his hands. He turns it to the side and behind a mesh screen are two big green eyes, all wide and untrusting. “Uhhh…” Joel murmurs, further inspecting as he raises an eyebrow. It’s a cat - black fur all puffed up, growling at Joel as its eyes dart left and right. The cat hisses at Joel, causing him to nearly drop the carrier. 

You greet Joel once more, this time with your suitcase rolling behind you. “Uh, hey. Who’s this?” Joel asks, suspicion lacing his tone. 

“Gizmo!”

“Huh. Gizmo.” The cat hisses again at Joel, startling him. “You didn’t tell me that Gizmo here would be a guest of mine.” 

“Oh, I know. I’m so sorry, Joel. It was all so last minute - I found out I was staying with you and then I called kitty daycare,” you begin explaining, Joel leading the way out of the airport and to his truck. He takes your suitcase and carries both that and the carrier. “And get this - they told me they wouldn’t allow me to board Gizmo because he was too bad the last time. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, how ‘bout that,” Joel mumbles, not so surprised.

“I know. It’s bullshit. But don’t worry about Gizmo, Joel. You won’t even know he’s there.”

“M’not really a cat person, you know,” Joel says. “Pretty sure I’m allergic to the bastards, actually.” 

Joel puts your luggage in the backseat of his truck, then opens the door for you to get in the passenger side. “Watch your step,” he warns, giving you his hand as you slide in. Joel closes the door, rounds the front of his truck and joins you, promptly starting the vehicle. The loud engine makes Gizmo cry. 

“So…” Joel begins, turning onto the busy highway. “How’s it all going? How’s work and whatnot?”

“Good,” you answer. “I don’t know. You know - work’s work. You?”

“Yeah, I hear that,” Joel replies. “Work’s work and Tommy’s…Tommy.” His joke earns him a little giggle from you. “What else is new? Got a boyfriend?” You give Joel a look, and he shrugs. “What?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, old man?” you tease, talking over Gizmo’s crying. “No, I do not. What about you, Joel, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Cute. Yeah, I do actually. Your father.” Another giggle. Joel laughs too, and he has to fight himself to keep his eyes on the road. You just look so fucking beautiful. 

Gizmo whines some more, and Joel looks both irritated and concerned. “It’s okay, Gizmo,” you coo, reaching back to touch his carrier, though the effort does little to soothe him. Joel’s truck chimes when you unbuckle your seatbelt and throw your torso over the front seat, your ass right next to Joel’s head makes him cough and clear his throat. 

“What the f-”

Thump. You land in the backseat and open Gizmo’s carrier to pet him and calm him. “It’s alright, Giz- oh, Gizmo, did you have an accident?” Joel’s mouth drops as his eyes dart frantically between the road ahead and the rearview mirror to watch you in the backseat. He’s got a bad taste in his mouth about this.  

Now at home, Joel listens to the awful sounds of Gizmo wailing and your shrieks as you bathe the cat after his accident. He had to clean the backseat of his truck, but he didn’t tell you that. When you’re done washing Gizmo, you wrap him in one of Joel’s nicer towels, the one he set aside for you. 

It’s evening when you come downstairs, clutching your soggy cat in his towel. You’re already in your pajamas, and Joel’s at the door paying the delivery person for the pizza he took the liberty of ordering. 

“Ooh, is that pizza?”

“Sure is. Plain cheese and pepperoni. Sit down, I’ll serve ya,” Joel says. “What would you like?”

“Cheese. Please and thank you.”

You smile as you sit down on Joel’s couch, scratching Gizmo’s damp little head as he purrs happily in your arms. With hands full with plates and cans of pop, Joel makes a disgusted sort of face as you kiss Gizmo’s nose. “Here,” he says, handing you a plate. Gizmo hops off of your lap. 

“Thank you.” You take a can of pop from Joel as well, cracking it open as Joel sits right next to you. He turns the TV on, Die Hard already a quarter through on whatever channel his TV was set to. It’ll do. 

You and Joel eat pizza together, talking here and there until the conversation fades away and only pizza crust remains on your plates, which are haphazardly set on the coffee table in front of you. At some point, you’ve slid closer to Joel, now pressed against his side with your head resting on his shoulder, dozing off to sleep. He smiles warmly, you poor thing. All worn out after a long day of travel. He doesn’t mind being your pillow.

Scrrraatchk, skrecht. Joel hears the odd, rhythmic noise of…something. “Hey, hon–” Joel wiggles his shoulder. “What’s that noise?”

“Mm?”

“That sound, it’s–”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joel catches Gizmo scratching on his leather recliner - his favorite recliner ever. La-Z-Boy just doesn't make them like they used to. “Oh, god bless it. The fuckin’ cat’s scratchin’ on my chair.”

“Oh, shit. Psst,” you whisper, patting the couch to get Gizmo’s attention, who gives you and Joel that deer in the headlights look. “Knock it off. You know better than that, baby,” you scold in the sweetest, most indulgent tone. Joel rolls his eyes. This is getting old already. “Sorry, Joel. He’s just nervous, trying to make himself feel at home.” 

“Mm,” Joel grumbles. “You know, this is exactly why people get their cats declawed. You never considered that for Heathcliff there?”

“No,” you deadpan. “It’s inhumane.” 

Joel raises his hands in surrender, then eyes Gizmo as he walks around the perimeter of the living room, stopping to sniff and bat at Joel’s Christmas tree. “Watch him,” he warns, voice dripping with irritation. 

You smack his arm. “Oh, relax, old man. He’s not gonna do anything. Pretty tree, though.” 

“Thanks. Decorated it myself.” 

“I can tell. It’s missing ornaments in the back,” you tease. Joel rolls his eyes, though unoffended. “Still. It’s nice to be around a Christmas tree. I don’t have one this year.” 

“You don’t?”

“Mm-mm. Gizmo’s too naughty.” 

Joel turns to look at you, baffled by your cognitive dissonance. He just shakes his head, and you go right back to almost-snuggling him. 

Gizmo loses interest in Joel’s Christmas tree and continues making his rounds, checking out the window and pawing at the blinds, which makes Joel cringe. Before Joel can say anything you shiver, tucking yourself closer into his side. “You cold, kiddo?”

“A little. But I’m fine.” 

“Bullshit.” Joel nudges you away from him so he can get up, then pulls a blanket from a basket on the floor. It’s one of those fleece tie blankets, with the repeated logo of the Dallas Cowboys patterned on one side, plain navy on the other. You made this blanket for him, actually. Years and years ago. It’s his favorite - used to be soft at one point, but it’s all scratchy and worn now, well-loved by Joel. He drapes it over his lap and holds one end up, inviting you to get cozy underneath it. But before you do, Gizmo jumps on Joel’s lap. “Awwwh,” you murmur, smiling warmly at your cat. “He stole the blanket.” 

“Yeah, but s’alright. We’ll jus’ move him,” Joel says, reaching for Gizmo. 

“No, no, he’s fine,” you insist, petting Gizmo’s back. “I think he likes you.” 

“Oh, great,” Joel says sarcastically. Gizmo curls up happily on Joel’s lap, kneading the blanket right over Joel’s crotch, which is an uncomfortable sensation. Joel winces and grunts when Gizmo paws his balls. “Watch it, you little shit.” 

“Be nice,” you scold, swatting Joel in the arm.

“Uh-huh.”

You and Joel finish the movie and start another, all with Gizmo sleeping happily on Joel’s lap. At some point, you’ve curled yourself up and are now sleeping on your side, feet pressed against Joel’s thigh. “Alright. Time for you to fuck off.” Joel pushes Gizmo off his lap, earning a disgruntled meow from the cat. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, shooing him away before pulling the fleece blanket over your sleeping form. “If it were up to me, you’d be sleepin’ in the garage. So don’t you wake her,” he warns, wagging a finger in Gizmo’s direction. “Asshole.” 

December 21

A bit of golden light peeks through Joel’s curtain, gently waking him up. He yawns and checks his digital alarm clock, though he can barely make out the time. Meh. It’s sunrise, whenever that is. 

You’re probably still sleeping, Joel guesses, so he’ll grab the first shower. If you’re anything like when you were younger - and you are - if Joel doesn’t shower first, he’ll never get any hot water. He doesn't understand your unique inability to ever shower under 45 minutes, but he can work around it. 

Groaning, springs squeaking with his shifting weight, Joel gets out of bed. He takes lazy, heavy steps toward the bathroom, hair sticking up in six different directions with bags under his deep brown eyes. He turns on the water and lets it warm up for a moment, grunting as he tugs his boxers down his thighs, erection slapping against his tummy. He’s hard as a fucking rock - morning wood. 

You. You shouldn’t be in his head, but you are. Joel dreamed of you all last night, doing all sorts of filthy things with you, to you. It’s probably nothing - you’re a pretty girl, and Joel’s not gotten laid in however long. Biology. Inappropriate. Wrong. But biology, nonetheless. 

Joel steps into the tub, facing the showerhead. He wets his hair, water trickling down his broad, freckled shoulders. He first scrubs his hair using some 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tangling his fingers in the sudsy strands, then rinses and finger-combs his hair back. Next, he grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in a rag, washing over the broad planes of his chest, his soft tummy, all down his legs, then rinses and wrings out the rag. 

His left hand on the wall, right hand palms his cock. Joel wraps his fingers around himself, sliding his hand all the way down, squeezing the base of his shaft. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, dragging his hand back up. 

Joel fucks his fist with abandon, and in his head, he’s picturing you. “Oh goddamn, kiddo,” he moans, eyes squeezed shut. Your eyes are all big and wide with your mouth full of his cock, drooling down his shaft and onto his balls. Or you’re on top of him, hands on his chest as you fuck yourself on his cock. He’s behind you, big hands gripping your waist as he pounds against your ass, leaning over you to lick and taste the skin between your shoulder blades. 

With his eyes closed as he pumps his cock, what Joel doesn’t see is Gizmo. Gizmo, wedged between the shower curtain and the liner, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, tail swinging wildly back and forth. His pupils are big as droplets of water roll down the clear liner. 

Joel’s dick is red and throbbing, his cheeks are flushed pink as he approaches orgasm. “Fu- oh,” he pants, quickly reaching for his damp washrag. He bites the fabric to quiet his noises of pleasure. His brow knits together, the wrinkles on his face handsomely defined as he grimaces when his cock begins to throb. He’s about to fall over the edge when it’s all ruined - a sharp pain in his ass cheek, dragging down his flesh. “AHHH!” Joel screams in both shock and agony, looking for the source of his pain. 

Of fucking course - Gizmo. Gizmo, with his little, fuzzy arm raised high, claws poking through the shower liner and right into Joel’s ass. He’s squirming, stuck like that of course, go figure. “Get the fuck out of here you fuck-” Joel yells, violently shaking the shower curtain. Gizmo sprints out of the shower and around the bathroom in circles, anxiously pawing for any way out. “God fuckin’ - SHIT,” he rages, stomping out of the tub sopping wet and inadvertently kicking Gizmo with every step he takes. Joel frantically opens the bathroom door, wet hands slipping on the handle. “Scram, you fuckin’ asshole,” he spits, watching Gizmo slip out of the bathroom. 

“JOEL?!” 

Gizmo jumps right into your arms, and Joel gawks at you. 

“What did you fucking do to my cat?”

“What did I do?” Joel seethes. “He clawed my fuckin’ ass cheek!” 

Joel can’t believe his eyes. You’re shooting him dirty looks as you kiss Gizmo’s little head, and Gizmo’s headbutting your face in return. He rubs his cheeks on your nose and curls his furry little body into yours, and you pout as you soothe him. “Yeah, sure. Worry about the cat. I’m fuckin’ fine, I guess,” Joel bites, catching a glimpse of a small amount of blood running down his thigh from his ass. 

Joel shuts the door then, and gets back into the shower. He washes the scratch with soap and water, wincing at the sting. When he’s done with his shower - and only his shower, as it’s now too late for him to make himself come, Joel apologizes to you for losing his temper. 

“Well, don’t apologize to me, Joel. Apologize to him.”

Joel pauses, jaw twitching, balling his hands into fists as he glares at Gizmo purring contentedly in your lap. “Sorry.” It’s the most painful, undeserved apology he’s ever had to make.

Between the holidays and your cat, Joel can already tell it’s gonna be a long fucking week. 

December 22

Joel’s current job site isn’t too far from home, so instead of eating a packed sandwich in his truck, he decides to come home one afternoon to make himself something for lunch.

He enters his house through the garage and sees you napping peacefully on his couch, snoring ever so quietly. Your lips are pouting, drooling a little onto his leather couch as the TV plays at a low volume. Joel chuckles quietly, shaking his head. It makes Joel happy to see you comfortable like that, so at home at his house. 

He strolls into the kitchen and opens his refrigerator, grabbing some lunch meat and cheese. He tosses them onto the counter, then grabs a jar of mayonnaise and a loaf of bread sitting on top of the refrigerator, sets those down too. Joel grabs a plate, and when he turns back around, Gizmo’s on the counter. 

“Get down from there,” Joel hisses, shooing away the cat. “Go on, git.” 

Gizmo blinks at him nonchalantly, which pisses Joel off. He knows that fucking cat speaks English. So Joel takes the liberty to shove Gizmo off of the counter, Gizmo landing on all fours with a thump and a discontent meow. “Yeah, shut up. Overgrown fuckin’ rodent.” 

Joel pulls two slices of bread from the loaf and opens the jar of mayonnaise, spreading a thin layer on each piece. He moves the jar out of the way and begins assembling his sandwich, and Gizmo hops right back onto his spot on the counter to stare at Joel.

“Oh, you little…” Joel whispers, trailing off and shaking his head. Joel cuts his sandwich on the diagonal, then begins making another - for you, of course. You always told Joel sandwiches taste better when he makes them. You’re a master fucking manipulator, with Joel wrapped tightly around your finger. 

Gizmo reaches for the cheese. “Don’t even think about it, shithead,” Joel gruffs, swatting his paw away. “The sandwich is for her. Not. You.” 

Joel puts your sandwich in a little baggy and places it in the refrigerator before writing a note for you on a post-it. When he returns to the counter, Gizmo’s surreptitiously dipping his paw into the mayonnaise. “Hey!” Joel snaps, “Get yer filthy goddamn mitts outta there.” 

December 23

It’s late at night when Joel wakes up to a horrible suffocation. His eyes fly open and his heart pounds with the heavy weight on his chest, and in his hypnagogic state, he begins to panic. Fuck, he’s having a heart attack. Confused and scared, he tosses his body with the little strength he has, and that’s when he feels it - two paws rhythmically pressing into his chest, a low purr. 

Gizmo. 

“Get the fuck off of me,” Joel whispers, pushing Gizmo off his chest. 

Gizmo makes a little mrrp noise on the floor, then leaves. Joel rolls his eyes and tosses onto his stomach, then tries to drift off to sleep. 

But he can’t. Joel’s up now, as there’s nothing like a middle of the night panic to jolt the nervous system wide awake. So Joel groans softly as he sits up in bed, yanking the blankets off his body. He takes slow, sleepy steps out of his room and down the stairs, grabbing himself a glass from the cabinet above the sink. “Fuckin’ cat,” he mumbles quietly as he fills the glass with some water. Joel takes a few sips, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his house. In his living room, he can see some ornaments are strewn across the floor, lights pulled off the branches of his Christmas tree. As if on cue, Gizmo brushes up against Joel’s leg. “I know what you did, you motherfucker,” Joel grumbles, gently pushing Gizmo away with his foot. Joel sets the glass of water down, then makes his way to the living room. 

He first puts the lights back on the tree, and then he gathers the ornaments and places them back on the branches. 

Skrrrch.

Joel looks back to see Gizmo on the counter, nudging Joel’s glass along the surface with a gentle bat of his paw, inching it closer and closer to the edge. “HEY,” Joel whisper-yells, warning the cat, “I fuckin’ dare ya, cat. Jus’ watch what happens.” 

Gizmo makes direct eye contact with Joel as he pushes it off, and it lands with that signature, awful sound of broken glass.

“God bless it.” 

Joel stomps over to Gizmo, who frantically jumps down off the counter and skitters off into another room. Joel chases him down and turns on a light, then corners him and grabs his little body. He cradles the squirming, whining cat and inspects all four paws to make sure he didn’t step on any glass, then tosses him back onto the floor, where Gizmo then runs up the stairs and into Joel’s guest room to join you in a peaceful slumber. 

Joel sweeps up the broken glass, defeated. 

December 24

Joel’s off work for both Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so finally, he gets to spend some time with you. He’s in his pajamas making eggs and toast for you at the stove, and you’re at the kitchen table, sipping on the orange juice Joel poured for you. “Vitamin C,” he’d said. “S’good for ya.” 

Joel plates your eggs, done just how you like them, and butters your toast. “Here ya are, darlin’,” he murmurs, setting down both yours and his plates at the table. 

“Thank you, Joel,” you smile. Gizmo’s weaving in and out between your feet on the ground. With the side of your fork, you cut off a small bite of your eggs and drop it on the ground, smiling at the way Gizmo darts out to eat it. Joel just watches, completely dumbfounded. 

“You and that cat,” he sighs. “You know, he’s been causin’ me all sorts ‘a trouble all week.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” you argue, leaning down to scratch Gizmo between his ears. 

“Well, you should, ‘cause he’s the fuckin’ devil. Broke a glass last night.” 

“Did not.”

“Did too. An’ he’s been fuckin’ with my tree,” Joel adds.

You roll your eyes. “It’s just a little cat, Joel. Are you being bullied by a tiny little cat?”

“As a matter ‘a fact, yes. I am.” 

You and Joel spend the rest of the day relaxing and watching Christmas episodes of sitcoms together. Joel has you wrap his presents, claiming it’s what you owe him for allowing you and your devil cat to stay. 

In the late afternoon, you and Joel get ready to go to your parents’ house for Christmas Eve dinner. Joel wears a dark green flannel and runs a comb through his hair, and you put on a nice dress, one that hugs your curves beautifully. 

You knock twice on his bedroom door. “Joel?”  

“Yeah, kiddo. C’mon in.” 

“Just wondering if you can zip me,” you ask quietly, spinning around for Joel to pull the zipper up your dress. 

“Can do,” he answers. He puts a hand on your waist and tugs the zipper all the way up, then smoothes out the fabric. “Y’look beautiful,” he tells you. “Know that?”

“Joooel,” you murmur bashfully, elongating his name. 

“I mean it,” Joel says, spinning you around and pushing a bit of hair out of your eyes with his pinky finger and smiling at you, which makes you all flustered. Joel clears his throat then, ushering you out of his room and down the stairs. “M’nervous about leavin’ that cat of yours all alone, you know. If we get home from this and that asshole destroyed my fuckin’–”

You squeeze Joel’s arm. “Relax,” you tell him, but your words do little to soothe the man. The whole time at dinner, all Joel can talk with your parents about is how awful Gizmo is. All the trouble he’s caused, and how you think the little bastard can do no wrong. “Your daughter feeds him,” Joel tells your dad, watching your reaction. You scoff and roll your eyes. “Right from her plate.” 

The night comes and goes, much like it always does. Christmas comes so much faster than it ever used to, and it doesn’t last as long. Joel drives you both home and to Joel’s surprise, his house is in one piece. But not the present he got you. 

“Goddamn it,” Joel grumbles, seeing the gift bag he left under his tree for you in shreds. He picked out a little black cat ornament for you, and thought you’d like it. He put some cat treats in the bag too. Go fucking figure that Gizmo ruins it. 

You help Joel clean up the mess of shredded paper and plastic, all the cat treats are, of course, eaten. “Fuckin’ cat’s probably pukin’ in my bed,” Joel gruffs. 

You put your ornament on Joel’s tree and squeeze his shoulder sympathetically. “You’re thoughtful,” you tell him. 

Joel smiles with his lips pressed together. He’s so ready for this week to be over. He’ll miss you - god, will he miss you when you’re gone, but he will not miss your asshole fucking cat. “How ‘bout another Christmas movie, hm?”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling. 

“M’takin’ requests. Got any?” Joel opens his entertainment center cabinet to show you his array of DVD’s, the Christmas movies all already set out. 

“This one.” You tap the Bad Santa DVD case. “‘Cause he’s hot.” 

“Who is? Billy Bob Thornton?”

“Mhm,” you nod, smirking. 

Joel makes a disgusted face and gives you a look, but puts the movie in the DVD player anyway. Some of the vulgar jokes make Joel blush, which is uncomfortable for him and entertaining for you. 

When the movie’s over, it’s time to go to bed. For real, too. You and Joel have to be at your parents’ house again in the morning and will likely spend the entire day there, getting no alone time or space from anyone. Joel bids you goodnight and kisses you on the cheek, then heads to the bathroom for a night time shower. He doesn’t wanna fight you for it in the morning. 

Joel keeps only the night light on in the bathroom. He’s exhausted, eyes are dry and stinging with tiredness. He pulls off his t-shirt, unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans and boxers down his legs together, then toes off his socks, yawning as he scratches his balls. In a sleepy haze, Joel gets into the tub and turns on the shower. 

He’s met with that sharp, awful, excruciating pain of claws in his skin, only it’s not in his thighs. Not in his ass. 

His fucking balls. Your cat’s claws are in Joel’s balls, and dragging down his sack. Joel feels like puking as it happens, and at the same time he’s being blasted with cold water as Gizmo panics and scratches his body further. It’s like a cartoon, when two characters fight and it’s just pure chaos - a cloud of screaming and other concerning noises, concerning noises that startle you awake.

“FUUUUUUCK!!” Joel yells, scrambling to get out of the tub. He clutches his scrotum and wraps a towel haphazardly around his waist, feeling dizzy as he bleeds into his palm. “Fuck - y–” 

You fly out of bed and sprint to the bathroom, where Gizmo is clawing at the bottom of the door. “Joel?” you knock frantically. “Joel!”

Joel unlocks the door and Gizmo sprints out, soaking wet and leaving a path of water droplets in his wake. Joel’s white as a fucking ghost. “Joel?”

“H- he-” Joel can’t even get the words out. Still holding his towel in place, Joel checks the palm of his hand and sees a mess of crimson. “Oh my god,” he says with a weakened voice. 

“Joel, what the fuck? What happened?!” 

Joel shakes his head, vision going spotty as he waddles to his bedroom and sits on the bed. You follow him, shutting the door behind you and turning the light on in his room. “Joel.” 

Joel says nothing, only peeks slightly at his crotch. He does his best to protect his modesty with you there but fuck, he’s gonna faint. And unfortunately, you might see more than you should, should that happen.

“Did he scratch you?” Joel only nods, swallowing thickly. “Okay, alright. Where’s your first aid stuff?”

“Bathroom vanity,” Joel chokes out. 

You hurry to the bathroom and grab Joel’s first aid kit, then return quickly to him. 

Joel has a strong stomach, however, the sight of his mangled scrotum is too much for his heart to take. If he looks, he might puke and faint and that’ll make everything worse. “You gotta do it,” he tells you, urgency in his voice. “I can’t look. Cat fuckin’ butchered me. I’m a eunuch.”

“Okay, okay,” you whisper, sitting beside Joel. You take his hand in yours, the one that’s clutching his towel shut. He’s shaking, trembling, and you move it to the side so you can open his towel. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” Joel says. 

“You’re fine,” you reply calmly, though in all honesty you’re pretty nervous too. “I’m gonna open up your towel, okay?”

“Yeah, go ‘head and do it. M’so sorry, kid. Jesus christ,” Joel groans. He leans back so that he’s laying flat on the bed, palms pressed into his eyes as his tummy rises and falls with panicked breaths. 

You open the towel and asses the injuries. 

It’s not bad. 

Really. 

It’s not. But you still wouldn’t trade places with Joel, right now. There’s quite a few scratches here and there, some deeper and longer than others. Nothing a little cleanup and some antibiotic ointment can’t fix. “Okay, Joel. I’m gonna be right back, I need to get a soapy rag.” Joel gives you a weak thumbs up. 

You run the water on warm and lather a clean rag with some soap, then return to Joel to wash the scratches. “Might sting,” you tell him, dragging the rag gently over his sack. You do your best to remain professional or something of the sort, to ignore how Joel’s cock thickens at your touch. His thick thatch of hair spattered around the base of his dick, gray, wiry hairs sprinkled amongst the brown. He’s thicker than you would have guessed, longer too, curved so beautifully. And his thighs - gorgeous, toned. Belly is soft, arms are strong. He’s gorgeous, all laid out like this.

Joel’s…Joel is feeling every emotion. Embarrassment, because his best friend’s daughter is between his thighs and carefully tending to his lacerated balls. Rage, because her fucking shithead cat is the reason he’s in this predicament. Aroused, because he’s only a man, and you’re too fucking pretty for him to not get hard from your touch. 

“Are you doing okay, Joel?” you whisper.  

“Ask me later.” Joel wipes some sweat from his brow. “Sorry about the…my…uh…”

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “Didn’t know you were hung like that, Joel.” 

“Jesus Christ, kid, don’t say shit like that.” 

You stifle your laughter as you toss the rag to the side, the bleeding now stopped. You unscrew the cap of some Neosporin, then squeeze a generous amount onto your fingertip. 

“I’m gonna touch you,” you warn. “Just some Neosporin. Okay?”

Joel nods. “Go for it.” He clears his throat when you touch his shaft, moving it slightly out of the way so you can dab the ointment on his scratches. Fuck, he’s struggling to conceal his moans and his stuttered breathing. 

Gizmo hops on the bed then, and headbutts Joel’s bicep. 

“Get that goddamn cat away from me before I put him through the fuckin’ wall,” Joel seethes. 

You don’t push. You know Joel means business, and Gizmo really did fuck up this time. “Psst, Gizmo. Get down. Leave Joel alone,” you whisper, swatting Gizmo onto the floor. “Gizmo’s really sorry,” you murmur, still rubbing ointment onto Joel’s balls. “He didn’t mean to, Joel. He must’ve thought—”

Joel holds up a hand to stop you. “Don’t. Jus’ don’t.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You lift Joel’s ballsack to see if you missed any scratches, but you didn’t. “You’re all done, Joel.”

Joel scoffs, and you stroke his thigh soothingly to calm him. He says nothing, only collects his breathing. His cock is still achingly hard, a pearly, pretty bead of precum at the tip. 

It’s a risk, but you take it anyway. You lean down and press a kiss right against his ballsack, conscious to avoid any scratches inflicted by Gizmo. 

“Woah, woah, woah-”

“Shhh,” you whisper. “Do you want this?”

“Yeah, but-”

“But nothing.” You kiss Joel’s sack all over as much as you can, and once you’ve exhausted that, you kiss up his hard shaft. “I’m kissing it better.” 

You lick up the length of Joel’s shaft, then circle your tongue a few times around the tip. With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, you rest the other on his tummy. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel sighs, voice dripping with relief as his hips thrust up, almost as if to chase your mouth. He sits up and reaches for your head, softly dragging his nails over your scalp rhythmically. “You’re a good girl.”

You take his tip into your mouth, working your way down his cock to take him fully inside. Joel tastes salty, sweaty, heady and so masculine, just like you always imagined, and it makes you wet. And you, with your warm and wet and inviting mouth, Joel’s imagination didn’t come close to mimicking this. You bob your head up and down his shaft, bouncing your nose into his pubic hair. 

“Jus’ like that,” Joel grunts. “Attagirl.” 

His words only worsen your growing arousal, and you can feel yourself making a mess of your panties. You fuck Joel’s cock with your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and spitting down his shaft and your knuckles. 

Joel pulls your head away from his cock. “Wait a second,” he tells you. “Wanna look at the mess you’re makin’,” he mumbles, admiring the slick, wet mess of your saliva on his cock. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs, then pushes you back down onto his cock. 

Joel thrusts into your mouth a bit harshly, though maintaining a certain gentleness to it. He ruts into your mouth, grunting your name as you drool on him, just as he pictured before. 

You reach into your skirt and pull your panties to the side, the cotton is all but soaked with your wetness. Dragging a finger up and down your folds, you moan onto Joel’s cock, sending vibrations down his shaft. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, kiddo?” he rasps. 

“Nothing,” you murmur, pressing kisses against his dick. 

“Sure don’t look like nothin’. C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him and tugs the zipper of your back down your dress, then helps you out of it. He unclasps your bra and pulls your soaked panties down your legs, clutching them in his fist before shoving them behind his pillow. 

In a swift motion that has you yelping excitedly, Joel flips you on your back, the bed beneath you warm with his body heat. Joel settles between your thighs and pushes your knees back toward your chest. “Yeah, s’it. This what you wanted, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, settling into his pillows. Joel’s hot breath fans over your hot, pulsing sex as he places his large, meaty hands on the backs of your thighs. Fuck, the way you smell has Joel’s head spinning, dizzy with lust. He presses kisses against your inner thighs first, working his way toward your center where he kisses sloppily over your clit. 

“Makin’ a mess of my sheets, y’know that, kid?” Joel teases, admiring the puddle of arousal you’re dripping onto his bed. He feels the heat of your cunt radiating against his face, inviting him in. He squeezes the meat of your thighs as he licks one long stripe up your pussy, then rubs your skin in circles with his thumbs. 

With a flattened tongue, Joel continues licking, rounding your clit before repeating the motion. He memorizes your folds, your taste, your scent. You moan his name and clutch his head against your cunt, your wordless plea for more. 

“I’ll give ya more, sweetheart. I know what you want,” he says, tongue now circling your entrance before dipping inside to taste you. He drags his tongue back up and flicks it up and down over your clit. Urgently, you tug on his graying, dark curls, pleasure blooming in your gut. You’re soaking his face as your climax approaches, thighs twitching beneath his palms. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. 

“Let go, darlin’.”

You’re about to come when -

CRASH

It’s a loud, thundering crash, the sound of broken glass and heavy objects hitting the floor. Joel growls against your pussy and violently punches the bed on either side of you before tearing himself away from your cunt and stomping downstairs with a renewed anger for your cat. 

“I swear to fuckin’ Christ,” he fumes, seeing the mess Gizmo, of course, made. You’re right behind Joel, your jaw dropped in shock. 

Ornaments all over the floor, some shattered and others still in one piece. The Christmas tree is somehow in two pieces - god only knows how gizmo managed to do that. The Christmas lights are strewn all over the place and there’s your precious cat, tangled up in the mess. Joel seethes as he makes his way toward Gizmo to free him of the lights, “You get the fuck outta here,” he hisses. 

“It was an accident!”

Joel turns around, chest heaving with his angry breaths. “Not another fuckin’ word,” he says, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you over the leather recliner. Joel laughs without humor when he sees that it’s been further scratched by Gizmo.

He parts your legs with his foot, then lines up with your slick hole and enters you in one swift thrust, the action both mind-splittingly painful and pleasurable. 

“Joel,” you moan, reaching behind yourself to grab at his thigh as he sets a quick, brutal pace. 

“You are…” he starts, “Never…bringing…that fucking cat…here…ever again,” Joel pants, fucking you with anger. “Do you fuckin’ understand me?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, voice muffled with your face pressed into the chair. 

Joel draws out of you all the way, admiring your milky arousal glistening on his cock underneath the glow of the ruined Christmas lights. He plunges back in, then fucks you harshly. He draws in and out of you so quickly and steadily, the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot with each of his thrusts. “Fuck,” he grunts, pulling you by your hips onto his cock repeatedly. 

He breathes loudly through his nose, fucking fuming with rage as he uses your cunt to relieve himself of the stress you - yes, you caused him. That cat may be Satan’s spawn but he’s still yours. You are responsible for this.

Pleasure builds quickly in you, and Joel can tell. He leans over you to press his fingers against your clit; he doesn’t even have to move them to make you come. Just the pressure and the motion of his rough fucking is enough to send you over the edge, pussy pulsing and gushing on Joel’s stiff cock, making a mess of him.

Joel pulls you against his chest and bites your ear as he pounds into you, chasing his own orgasm. His balls tighten and his body tenses before release, and then he’s spilling into you, spurting milky white ropes of his hot come inside you. “Fuck, goddamn,” he grunts, fucking himself through his climax. When he’s finished, he pulls out of you unceremoniously, your combined arousal spilling onto the ground. What’s another fucking mess to clean up.

Joel rounds the chair and plops onto the couch, pulling you down with him. You yelp as you fall but he catches you in his strong arms and hugs you close against his body, kissing your forehead and cheeks. “I fuckin’ hate that cat,” he tells you, panting. 

Gizmo mrrps then and jumps onto Joel’s lap with you, walking over both of your bodies to greet Joel specifically, bunting Joel’s face as he purrs. 

“He’s really sorry,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, m’sure.” Joel surprises you both and brings a hand to Gizmo’s face, gently petting his head. “I mean it,” Joel warns. “Never. Again.” 

IF YOU ENJOYED!!! Please leave me a comment or say something nice in your reblog, or send me an ask ♡ i love when you make this blog feel like a community ily. ty so much <3 <3 <3

[lemonlover1110]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Megumi is insanely jealous of the new addition to the household.

Warnings: Fluff, Jealous!Megumi

*Didn't have anything bigger for Toji for father's day but I had to celebrate it one way or another sfjosjf. Enjoy my lovelies!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Papa, up!” Megumi yells, hoping to get his father’s attention when he sees Toji holding the new addition to the family. Megumi has reached the age where he claims to be independent, after all, four is such a big age. He’d cry if you or Toji held him, but he’s changed his mind.

“Your baby sister is crying, give me a minute.” Toji sounds annoyed, knowing that Megumi does it out of jealousy. Jealous of a baby that can’t even hold her own head, kids are so dumb. Megumi lets out a cry before yelling again,

“Papa, up!” He wants attention now. He doesn’t want to wait until Toji is done with some stinky baby. Toji lets out an exasperated sigh as tears begin to stream down Megumi’s face– Crocodile tears, but tears nonetheless. He extends his arms and opens and closes his tiny fists repeatedly, yelling, “Up!”

“Megumi, you don’t want to wake up mommy, do you?” Toji asks, trying his best to calm down the crying baby in his arms while also handling Megumi. Toji goes unheard as Megumi begins to cry his little heart out. 

Toji takes a deep breath, trying to remain collected in this situation. Megumi is only four and getting adjusted to the presence of his little sister. Toji decides that it’s best to walk away, going to the kitchen to get the baby’s bottle and deal with her first since Megumi’s issue isn’t easily resolved. 

“Papa!” Megumi yells, following around Toji as he gets a bottle in the baby’s mouth. 

“Megumi, wait for me in the living room.” Toji says, but Megumi isn’t listening. Daddy isn’t like mommy, whatever mommy says goes but when Toji speaks he goes ignored; Toji’s is far scarier and intimidating than you are, he doesn’t understand why Megumi doesn’t take him seriously. “Megumi, go away!”

“I’m running away!” Megumi stomps his little feet before finally leaving Toji to deal with the baby. Toji breathes in relief, his pesky little bug finally giving him a moment alone. He’s able to go to the living room and sit down comfortably as he finishes feeding his daughter. 

“He’ll come around, princess. He hasn’t witnessed just how cute you are.” Toji coos, as if the baby can understand or care. She finishes her bottle, and Toji burps her before setting her down in her crib. He usually chooses to hold her whenever he can, but right now he has bigger fish to fry.

Toji walks into Megumi’s room, watching how his son tries to fit his most valuable toys into a backpack. Toji is trying his best to not chuckle, knowing that Megumi is deeply hurt. Toji takes a seat on Megumi’s tiny bed, clearing his throat before asking, “Need help packing?”

“You hate me!” Megumi cries, and Toji rolls his eyes. Was he that dramatic when he was Megumi’s age? “Mommy and you don’t love me anymore.”

“Oh c’mon, why do you say that, urchin?” Toji tries to see the little guy’s point of view before attempting to comfort him. The last thing Toji needs is attempting to explain to you why Megumi is packing up all his toys– You leave him alone with the kids for a two hour nap and Megumi’s already moving out. 

“You only care for the new baby.” Megumi angrily muffles, and Toji could’ve guessed as much. 

“C’mere, baby. Let me carry you now.” Toji opens his arms for Megumi, and Megumi glares at his father. He wipes away his tears before deciding that he does want to be carried by his father, after all, the tantrum is simply because of this. Toji picks him up, setting him down on his lap before kissing his forehead. “Is this why you’ve been so sensitive? Because of the new baby?”

“Yeah…” Megumi pouts, and it takes everything in Toji to not laugh.

“I will tell you something but don’t tell mommy, okay?” Toji begins, almost whispering to Megumi. Megumi’s eyes perk up, and Toji is fighting back a smirk. “We… Don’t like the new baby that much. I mean, we just met her. But you, urchin? You’re our favorite.”

“Really?” Megumi’s voice is full of hope, and Toji prays that this means Megumi will stop being so jealous about his baby sister. Toji doesn’t hesitate before nodding. It reminds Megumi that he doesn’t like being held anymore, which makes him get off Toji’s lap.

“Will you behave around her, now?” Toji asks, and Megumi takes a moment to think about it.

“Can we sell her?” Megumi responds, which makes Toji’s jaw drop. Did his cute little urchin seriously just say that?

“Okay, new rule: you’re not allowed near her room.” Toji stands up from the tiny bed, his knees cracking. He leans down and kisses the top of Megumi’s head, “Now unpack all of your toys before mommy wakes up.”

[joelsgoldrush]

“lovers once a year” | 9.4k

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

SUMMARY: One always craves what is out of reach. Like the forbidden fruit that lingers just beyond grasp, tempting with its sweetness. Joel became the town’s greatest sinner, and you, his best friend’s daughter, are the tantalizing temptation he knows he should never indulge in. Your very existence marks the path to his ruin. He can't help but follow it. WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. joel’s POV. a lot of introspection. mentions of alcohol. miscommunication. no outbreak. dbf!joel. age gap (25 and 56). petnames. religious imagery. car sex. oral sex (f!receiving). fingering. unprotected p in v. riding. missionary. doggy style. orgasm denial. crying. hair pulling. thumb/finger sucking. cum shot. creampie. reader sits on joel’s lap and has hair. moodboard for aesthetic purposes only. A/N: the fact this idea has been sitting on my drafts for over a year is just crazy. i finally found the time to put into words, and i know i’m a little late to the whole dbf!joel trope, but i’m a real sucker for it... hope you like this one! <3

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend.

For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the sentimental type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length.

Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state.

Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree.

Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing could throw him off.

Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

His gaze drifts across the room, settling on you at a smaller table a few meters away, surrounded by your younger cousins, ages five to fifteen. He watches as you scroll absent-mindedly on your phone, your brow furrowed in concentration, only tearing your eyes away from the screen when one of the kids hurls a handful of salty peanuts at you.

You press your palms flat against the tablecloth, eyes narrowing as you scowl playfully at the child, a mischievous glint in your expression. “You’ve got ten seconds to run,” you utter in a tone meant to sound ominous, tickling his sides until he erupts in laughter, his giggles filling the dining room with raw joy.

Joel’s been here for over two hours, but he can’t recall a single detail about the night’s events. All he knows is you—he’s studied your every movement, following the shape of your silhouette through the crowd. He’s accepted a few drinks, engaged in shallow conversation with your relatives, trying his best to play the part of a man with nothing to hide. But despite his efforts, despite every attempt to appear unaffected, he feels a slow burn kindling in the pit of his stomach, an ache that curls through him in a deliciously destructive way.

It’s when you look up, locking eyes with him, that he nearly mutilates the chicken breast on his plate, the knife skittering over porcelain with a screech. He quickly mutters an apology, excusing his clumsiness and blaming it on one too many drinks. Meanwhile, you don’t quit glaring at him, a hint of a challenge dancing in your stare.

This shouldn’t feel the way it does, this hazardous, risky game you’re playing. At one time, he might’ve thought this was something only seen in movies, something imagined and unreal. But here you are, and here he is, and the indisputable hunger in your eyes is as real as anything he’s ever known.

Suddenly, his memories drift back to a year ago, to your grandmother’s 84th birthday—the night it all began.

Stephen had left Austin when he was eighteen to pursue a college degree. That’s how he’d ended up in New York, and from that point on, he never came back. It’d been amazing to see him as an equal when they were teenagers, but as they grew older, the only things they shared were the white hairs scattered all over their beards and the memories of much better days.

Whenever they got in touch—which didn’t happen often—your dad would talk about you. You were just a name without a face, an empty canvas. Close to graduating, with only a few subjects and finals left. Psychology was your major—weren’t you smart? Joel remembers typing back with a string of exclamation marks to show his contentment. His best friend’s daughter was a success; how could he not be happy?

One random day, Joel’s phone buzzed late in the afternoon, flashing with Stephen’s name. It was rare for them to talk outside the usual birthdays and holidays, so seeing his name on the screen sent a small jolt through him. A dozen scenarios raced through his mind as he picked up, each one edging between concern and curiosity.

Just like that, Stephen dropped the news without any preamble. “I’m moving back to Austin,” His voice came in clear, and there was something unusual about it, brisk but almost nostalgic. Joel gripped the phone a little tighter, processing the words. “In fact, I’m filling up the gas tank as we speak. There’s someone at home who wants to see you.”

That someone had been your grandmother. With a twinkle in her eye, she’d insisted on inviting Joel to her 84th birthday. “It’s the perfect chance for you two to reconnect,” she’d declared, her tone laced with warmth and hope. She adored Joel, practically worshipping the ground he walked on, often reminiscing about the vibrant young man he had once been.

Who could deny anything to an elderly person, especially one as cherished as her? He was strong, physically imposing, but not strong enough to resist her wishes.

The reunion was going as well as it could, given the circumstances. After all, it was a strange kind of delight, seeing his best friend for the first time in decades. Joel thought they’d do what friends do—sit back, drink, smoke, and trade stories about the good old days. 

Then you walked into the room, absolutely gorgeous and with a smile that was all teeth, and you reached out to shake Joel’s hand as you introduced yourself. The contrast hit him instantly—your skin was satin-like against his, smooth where his was rough and calloused from years of handling concrete and steel. A subtle heat bloomed where your fingers touched, the chill of the rings on your hand sending a shiver through him, as if his senses had sharpened in that brief instant.

You pulled away, taking a step back, your eyes flicking between him and your dad. Joel’s arm fell back to his side, his hand forming a tight fist, the bite of his nails embedded into his palm to keep him grounded. But he couldn’t stop himself from scrutinizing you—every detail of your face, the curve of your smile, the effortless way you carried yourself. Your beauty was at fault, not him. You were completely out of reach, yet close enough to marvel at. He was no more than a man, bound to notice the charm of a pretty girl like you.

That you happened to be the daughter of his best friend—that was just a cruel stroke of fate. 

“Oh, sweetie. I’m glad you got to meet Joel at last!” Stephen’s voice cut through his thoughts, an arm draping across Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into an affectionate embrace. “He’s that friend from school I’ve been telling you about.”

Stephen looked so at ease, so utterly pleased, that Joel could only swallow back the lump in his throat. What kind of sick joke was this? What could he have possibly done to deserve this twist of the knife?

With a soft laugh, you folded your hands behind your back, tilting your head to the right. “My father wouldn’t shut up about you,” you said, light and melodic, drawing him in like a lure. Joel found himself adrift in the sweet cadence of your voice, entranced by the delicate chain glinting at your throat, resting just above the neckline of your shirt, the v-cut hinting at a world of temptation.

He blinked owlishly, fighting the images clawing behind his eyelids. “Well, he’s a good man, your father,” Joel managed, his smile strained. Not because it wasn’t true, but because there was a blaring alarm in his head, warning him to get a fucking grip. He knew himself well enough to read the signs, the underlying meaning beneath these nerves, the quickened pulse, the quiet, undeniable urge to reach out and feel you.

He was gone already. He fancied you, and his mind raced with thoughts he knew he had no right to entertain. He imagined what you’d taste like, the way you might sound if he were between your legs, encouraging you to gasp his name. Yet, he was aware that these fantasies were as treacherous as they were forbidden, even more with you standing right in front of him. And your father, just inches away.

From the kitchen, someone called out to Stephen, and with a weary sigh, he unhooked himself from Joel’s shoulder. “Coming!” he shouted back, already angling himself toward the door. He glanced back at the two of you, half-smiling while rubbing his temples. “I forgot how exhausting it is to host a family birthday party. I’ll be right back. You two go ahead and chat without me.”

Fuck, no, Joel thought to himself. Don’t leave me here. Where the hell are you going?

Joel resorted to remaining silent, choosing instead to take a long sip of his beer to avoid the occasion of sin. He refused to look in your direction, fixing his gaze on anything that didn’t involve your bare legs—the same legs he’d just been eyeing in those damn denim shorts, which exquisitely hugged your thighs. But, then again, he shouldn’t even be noticing that.

As he peered down at the carpet, he couldn’t ignore the movement of your shoes as you stepped closer. He observed your fingers playing idly with the frayed edges of your shorts, your body inching nearer, and he braced himself in anticipation of whatever you might say next. When his eyes landed on yours, he was met with an aura of expectancy, a cocky smirk pulling at your lips.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Mr. Miller,” you murmured, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed with effort. Letting your hand linger beside your face, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, glancing at him through your lashes. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Joel felt the flush rise to his cheeks, and there was no mistaking it—you were doing this on purpose. Were you trying to push him off balance, to see how far he’d bend before snapping? Was this just a game for you, a bit of mischief to spice up a family gathering? The idea irritated him, but he couldn’t entirely ignore the thrill woven into the discomfort. A quarter of his mind itched to play along, but the rest of him screamed to find the nearest exit.

“Y’can just call me Joel. No needa be so formal,” he mumbled, lifting the beer bottle to his lips once again, the bitterness spreading across his tongue.

“But I like Mr. Miller better.”

His mind conjured all those images of fire and damnation, of being dragged to some dark, smoldering pit. Rotting in hell, he could already see himself within the flames. Tugging at the collar of his flannel, now too tight and hot, he gave a rough, clearing cough. “M’gonna—go find your dad.”

He was glad you didn’t try to approach him in public again. For a few hours, he felt something close to tranquillity—not fully, though, as he could still hear echoes of your voice in the silences. Every so often, out of the corner of his eye, he’d catch you orbiting near him, lurking in his peripheral vision, even though you sat at a different table.

Later in the night, he wandered upstairs in search of the bathroom, instead stumbling upon your father’s childhood bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he took the liberty to enter it, a familiar scent filling the room. He ran his fingers over the walls, still papered with posters he recognized well. It was as if time had paused there—everything remained as it had the last time he’d been in this very room. The framed portraits, the worn bedspread, and Stephen’s desk, scattered with foreign bills under a layer of glass, each one a memento from the different countries he had visited.

It was only a matter of time before you found him, a light knock on the open door drawing his attention. Joel turned on his heels, catching sight of you, acknowledging your presence with a slight bow of his head. You ambled toward him, curiosity alight in your steps, twisting the chain of your necklace, a restless gesture that betrayed the energy simmering beneath your calm exterior.

He scratched the back of his head, offering a half-hearted smile. “This isn’t the bathroom, right?” he joked, attempting a casual tone. The joke was a weak one, admittedly, but you laughed anyway, a nonchalant sound that showed the gleam of your teeth.

“No, I don’t think it is,” you replied, sliding onto the edge of the desk with an effortless ease. “What brought you here?”

“Birthday parties can be a bit overwhelmin', dontcha think?” 

“Totally.”

And then you went back to watching him, your eyes tracing his features with an almost stubborn intensity. 

“You gonna stop doin' that?” he asked, the words coming out sharper than he meant, though they didn't make you flinch.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Lookin' at me all doe-eyed.” His voice didn’t waver, but he advanced in your direction. His knees nearly brushed against yours, the weathered denim grazing your bare skin, and only then did a flicker of uncertainty soften your confident stance. “Whatever it is you’re after, it’s not gonna happen. So quit tryin’.”

You drew in a slow breath, pushing yourself to your feet. “You sure about that?” Before he had the time to react, you were standing inches from him, your chest pressing against his, just close enough for him to feel the soft weight of your breasts. “Should I pretend, then, that I haven’t noticed you’ve been half-hard all night?”

Joel's jaw tightened, his teeth gritting almost painfully. His fists flexed by his sides, his entire body feeling heavier, muscles pulled taut by some invisible thread. "Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” You hooked a finger inside his belt loop, tugging him that much closer. Your breath, fresh and minty, mingled with the faint scent of your perfume, and he inhaled both, heady on the mix. “You’re gonna teach me a lesson?”

There was only so much patience a man like him could summon, and you were a thorn in his flesh, determined and unyielding. He leaned in, voice gruff as he uttered three words that made your brows knit together. “Close the door.” You stayed frozen, lips parting in surprise. “Did y’hear me? M’not into exhibitionism. Close. The. Door.”

You did as he asked, obliging, stepping back to close the door before returning to your place. Without warning, he turned you around, pressing your palms flat against the cool glass of the desk, a sharp chill that made you yelp. His hand settled firmly on your back, guiding you down until your chest was flush against the surface as well. In one swift motion, your shorts were gone, followed by your soaked panties, a damp spot where your arousal had begun to seep through.

He slipped his fingers inside you first, his hand covering your mouth to stifle the needy whimpers escaping your lips. The roughness of his beard grazed your cheek as he hovered over you, his breath hot in your ear as he spoke. “Bein’ too fuckin’ loud, doll.” Matching the rhythm of the slow drag of his fingers, his hips pressed forward, grinding against the curve of your ass, each movement making his mouth go dry. “Y’want this cock that bad?” He nipped at your throat, and you, against his sweaty palm, mumbled what could have only been a muffled Yes. “Then I need y’to keep real quiet for me, alright?”

His jeans and boxers hung around his knees, his cock leaking and throbbing at the tip. Joel realized what true desperation felt like, dangerously close to busting his load at any given moment before even getting the chance to be fully inside you. On top of the desk, your body trembled, and you reached back, pulling your top higher up to bare more of yourself to him. He unclasped your bra with one hand, while his other guided him to your entrance, his lips pressing reverently against your spine as he pushed inside, savoring the heat of your walls wrapping around him for the first time. It certainly didn’t feel like anything he’d ever experienced in his fifty-six years of life.

It had been short, and harsh, and fast. Borderline animalistic, what experts would label as a quick fuck. The moment he breached your entrance, you begged for more, fucking yourself back onto him until his thighs met your skin. You acted as if possessed by a greater entity, diabolic, though Joel didn’t mind it. He relished it, welcomed it. But he couldn’t let you take the reins. He asserted his dominance, snapping his hips forward with a force that drew moans from the depths of your lungs. He was the one in control, driving himself deeper and deeper within you. Suffice it to say you seemed to love it, if the sounds he elicited from you were anything to go by.

It was what you wanted, what you needed. One way or another, he’d caught onto what those lingering glances throughout the party had signified. Every glance you’d thrown his way had been leading to this—a silent promise that whatever was happening had been destined to be the night’s climax.

You bit down on his palm as you reached your peak, tightening around him, and perhaps it was the thrill of it all, the knowledge that he’d need far more time to become well acquainted with your body, that had him chasing after you. Holding back until you came had been a feat, pulling out seconds prior to his release, stroking his length once before painting your skin with his seed. A low, primal groan escaped him as he slid his length between your cheeks, prolonging his high, each heated pulse marking you in a way that felt undeniably his.

As he regained his composure, he watched you swirl your thumb along your lower back, collecting a trace of his release, and bringing it to your lips to have a taste of him. You softly laughed when he cursed under his breath, turning your face lazily to the side. “Damn minx y’are,” he rasped, closing the gap between your mouths, his claiming yours in an urgent kiss. Your mewls faded beneath the insistent press of his mouth as he sought to suppress the strange pull in his guts, reluctant to confront the unfamiliar sensations churning within him.

Things wrapped up quickly after that. You both returned to your places, resuming the roles you’d stepped out of briefly: Joel had been in the bathroom; you had been on the phone with a friend. When he reappeared downstairs minutes after you, no one thought twice about his slightly damp hair.

For the remainder of the party, the two of you exchanged no further words. The time for him to leave came, and he offered only a nod of his head across the packed living room. It was a farewell only Joel would give, a subtle acknowledgment that left you wondering about its meaning. There were no explanations, no parting words.

The next time he saw your father, the mere thought of seeing you again terrified him. If it’d happened once, then the temptation would still remain undiminished, strong enough to awaken the lust and the longing veiled in silence. But you weren’t there anymore—back in New York, focused on finishing your semester at college. The surprise must have been evident on Joel’s face, a bewilderment that prompted Stephen to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Remember I told you she hasn’t graduated yet?”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember now,” he said, wishing to convince both your father and himself.

You were out of the picture, no longer around. Yet, the two of you now shared a secret. You still do, to this day. He’s no stranger to the notion that some things never seem to change. After all, he’s a creature of habit—same breakfast every morning, same brand of bread he’s been buying for years. Like all his other preferences, he’s come to realize he likes his women a certain way. And though he hates to admit it, you fit the bill perfectly.

Betty, Stephen’s mother, was turning eighty-five tonight. A seat with Joel’s name was saved at the big table; they wanted him there, his best friend and his best friend’s mother. How nice it was to actually feel wanted. He liked that feeling. Still, he’d had to bite his tongue when your father mentioned you’d be there, too. You had graduated at long last, with your birthday having been just a couple of weeks ago.

“Can’t believe she’s twenty-five already,” Stephen muttered with a chuckle, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Sitting beside him, Joel gripped the arm of his chair, sinking his nails into it. “Me neither, man.”

His choices had led him to this moment. The clinking of glasses rings in his ears, blending with laughter and the rich aroma of food that fills the air. None of it manages to distract him. He can't help but track you down, eyes scanning the room, relentless in their pursuit of yours. The need to see you goes beyond any shred of restraint he might have faked to have. Joel can’t muster the decorum to feign indifference—God, not when you’re near, when the pull toward you feels like gravity itself. He’s keenly, almost painfully aware, that he’s not even pretending to be indifferent, his interest etched plainly in the way his gaze persists, refusing to pull away.

It’s his first time seeing you in a year. A lot can change in that span of time. He can’t help but be amazed, because you look just the same as you did back then. Only your hair’s a touch shorter. He wonders if it’s even noticeable, or if he’s just spent so long memorizing your features that he’s losing his sanity. He bets it’s the latter.

A light pressure on his shoulder makes Joel jump, breaking down his reverie. He turns quickly, eyes widening. "Betty," he exhales, patting his chest with a smile, eyebrows lifted. "Jeez. Y’scared me."

“Y’alright, Joely? Y’look a bit pale.” The older woman reaches up, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead with a gentle familiarity. Through her lens, he’s still young. “Doesn’t seem like you’ve got a fever, though.”

"That’s ‘cause I’m not sick." Joel takes her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "How’s everythin’ goin’ so far? Got all these people together just t’celebrate ya’."

"It’s a wonderful night, sweetheart. So happy y’found the time t’be here," she replies, pinching his cheek in that affectionate way that earns her a quiet laugh from him. Her eyes then catch sight of a familiar figure. "Oh, look who's here. If it isn’t my beautiful granddaughter."

He stops smiling. In fact, he thinks he even stops breathing for a second as you intrude yourself into the scene, settling yourself beside your grandmother, flashing him a knowing grin. “I was getting kind of bored with the little ones.” 

“Y’know Joel, right, dear?”

“Yes.” A pause, a beat you draw out between breaths. “Yes, I do.”

Betty leans his way, her warm hand still on him. “Have y’heard the latest news? This young lady just graduated.”

“Stephen told me,” he answers, looking up at you with a reserved nod. “Congrats, kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

There’s that damn name again. Were he alone with you, he’d laugh in your face, but he can’t. Under the scrutiny of family and friends, he knows he’s cornered. Joel’s starting to believe you think you’re untouchable, that there are no consequences to your actions. You might look the same, maybe a little older, but that teasing, provocative spark in your eye hasn’t changed a bit.

“Always so polite, my child,” Betty says, cupping your cheek with a light pinch, a grandmotherly gesture perfected over the years which she seems to repeat often. “Any boyfriends back in New York?”

This would, without a doubt, be the perfect moment for him to excuse himself and stand up—a conversation he’d rather not be privy to. But with you positioned right in front of him, escape isn’t an option. “Still single, grandma,” you respond unfazed, as if you know exactly what you’re doing. “No one to worry about. Better like this, anyway.”

“But what’s the problem? There aren’t any boys y’like?”

He doesn’t even know what makes him say it—some impulse, some hidden tension surfacing—but he jumps in, his voice carrying a slight, sardonic edge. “Boys are more foolish than ever these days, Betty. Surely y’wouldn’t want her to settle for the first idiot who crosses her path.”

Betty clutches his arm, shaking her head in feigned shock. “Oh, not at all! It’s all about waitin’ for the right person. There’s no rush, for either of you. You’re still on your own, Joely?”

Time to drink again. He drains the last drops of alcohol remaining in his glass, feeling your eyes on him, intense and searing, and then he clears his throat, swallowing down the words he’d rather say. “Affirmative.”

“Well,” she sighs contentedly, patting each of your hands as though binding you both with some invisible thread. “Just means y’two have to wait a bit longer, right? Time has its way.” She chuckles, eyes soft with memory, turning to you. “Darlin’, this man here was quite the heartbreaker in his day. He and your dad would find all kinds of trouble with the ladies!”

“How so?” You cross your arms, playfully tilting your chin up. “Joel Miller, the charmer of the town?”

“Guess I’ve been known t’make a fool of myself,” he shoots back, silently cursing the moment he missed his chance to slip away. “Stephen got more fans than I did, though.”

“I did what?” Joel feels an elbow nudging his back, and there’s his friend, grinning in his usual easy way.

Joel's luck in life had been more bruised than blessed, a string of hardships that seemed amplified compared to what most people experienced. Being drawn in by you—in which category did that fall? Good luck or bad? He couldn't decide. Every glance and delicate smile you aimed his way stirred something reckless within him. Was it pure thrill, or a warning?

He laughs every time Stephen cracks a joke, but he’s barely listening, his mind half-tethered to the present. It’s like he’s watching himself from afar, observing his reactions as if he were an outsider. He isn’t stoned or drunk, just acutely mindful of your presence. He catches himself peeking up at you from where he sits, jaw tight, his brow creased. You meet his gaze with a slight squint, a polite look that hides something far more dangerous.

Boys are more foolish than ever these days. He’s sure of that much. They’re young, untested. But what about him? He’s no model of virtue, either. He’s made his share of mistakes, left good women behind—women who were willing to love him in spite of his flaws. They’d seen through the layers he wore like armor, and yet, in the end, he couldn’t hold on to any of them. He carried the ghosts of every past life, fragments of who he’d been and what he’d left behind, and he knew those shadows weren’t for everyone.

A thought pierces through him, sharp and sobering: what would Sarah think? His lovely daughter, grown and settled into her own life, would likely be mortified to know her father’s infatuation with a twenty-something. The weight of that realization sinks into his chest, and that seems to be his last straw.

He can’t possibly take it anymore. Rising from his chair, he mutters something to Stephen about needing fresh air and makes his way to the backyard door, exhaling deeply and gripping his car keys. The cool night air hits him, stepping outside, a temporary relief as he heads toward his truck.

Just as he’s about to open the door, he hears your voice. You call his name, your tone soft but distinct. He doesn’t turn, only lets out a long, weary sigh. “What?”

“Where are you going?” You stop a few steps behind him, watching the way his shoulders visibly tense. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” He faces you, almost snapping his neck in his rush to look at you. “Why would I be—I’m not mad at ya’.”

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you leaving so early?” 

He scrubs a hand over his nape, fingers pressing into the tension gathered there. “Would y’like me t’break it down for ya’, how messed up this is?” His gaze drops to the ground, unable to meet yours. “I’m riskin’ the only real friendship I’ve had here for… for somethin’ that I can’t even wrap my head ‘round. This isn’t okay, no matter which way I look at it.”

In that moment, it’s as if reality pulls you under. The mask of subtle, practiced arrogance falls apart, scattering in fragments around you. He watches, waiting for you to gather them up, to hide behind that composed veneer again. But you don’t move. You leave the pieces where they lie. Instead, you confront his gaze, unguarded, and ask, “Do you regret what happened between us?”

Another question. You seem to be full of them. They just keep coming, one after the other, as if you already had them prepared. I don’t, he thinks to himself, but would it do you any good if you knew it? “Don’ start with those mental games.”

“Then come back inside.”

“I know myself well enough to know what’s gonna happen if I do that, darlin’.”

Neither of you breaks the silence that’s settled between you, thick as the night air. You slip your hands into the pockets of your jacket, shoulders slightly hunched, head hanging. Once again, like all those times before, he’s struck by how young you are compared to him. The difference stretches between you like a chasm, bridged only by these stolen moments. The weight of his years presses down on him, the choices he’s made—the mistakes and the half-hearted attempts to mend them. He’s got decades on you, three of them to be precise.

Joel never thought of himself as an ever-lasting free spirit, the kind of man who clings to youth or pretends to be something he’s not. Right now, with you here, he feels reckless, like a boy again. Stupid, impulsive, like the foolish young men he used to shake his head at—the very ones he’d warned your grandmother about.

“You left without even saying goodbye last time,” you mumble, low but clear, as you scuff the toe of your shoe against the grass. “And now you’re doing it again.”

He inhales sharply, clenching his keys, feeling the edges of the brass biting into his palm. For a moment, he thinks the sharpness will give him something to hold onto, but he knows the sting is nothing more than a weak anchor. “You’re a smart girl. Don’ need me to spell this out.”

“I know exactly what you mean, trust me. I get it.”

“Then why do you keep pushing?” His pent-up exasperation slips through despite himself, and he can see the hurt flicker across your face, the way your forehead barely puckers as his words hit harder than intended.

Even as you look away, a trace of that hurt fading, you stand firm. You shake your head after a beat, seemingly trying to brush off your doubts and confusion. Joel can’t decipher if you’re feigning innocence—if you are, he thinks, you could be one hell of an actress. “I don’t know. I guess I want to see how far this can go.”

You take a small step forward, testing the waters. Your feet move cautiously, not aiming to scare him off. Each step draws you nearer until there’s only a whisper of space between you, close enough for him to catch your scent, and he has to force himself to peer down to meet your eyes. They hold a quiet intensity: pleading, wide and earnest, already trained on him. Gleaming like two lone stars cutting through a moonless, empty sky. 

It baffles him, the question forming unbidden in his mind. He goes even further, can’t help but wonder: why him? What is it that you see in him? What makes you keep coming back for more? You’ve already had a taste, a story you could tuck away, a secret to be shared with your friends someday around a campfire. So why, he would like to know, are you still here, seeking something from a man like him?

“I like you,” you blurt out, fingers drifting to skim over the worn fabric of his flannel, almost hesitantly. That tentative gesture sparks something raw in him, a low rumble of desire that feels like it’s been lying dormant for too long. Heat pulses through him, hot blood racing through his veins, awakening every nerve, each beat of his heart more insistent than the last one. “I think you like me, too.”

“You’re insufferable,” he bites out through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching so hard it nearly hurts. He closes his eyes, half hoping you’ll disappear, that he’ll find some reason, any reason, to call this off. Though when he opens them, you’re still there, waiting, unshaken. “I wish I knew how to stop this. How to walk away.”

“That’s not what you want.”

“We don’ always get what we want, kid. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” He means it as a warning, but even he hears the way his voice falters, his defenses crumbling in the face of your unflinching state.

You let out a slow sigh, your arms falling to your sides, eyes roaming over his features as if you’re memorizing every line. Your focus dips to his mouth. “Maybe,” you murmur, and he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin. “But some things are worth fighting for. And sometimes, those who don’t give up… get the best in the end.”

With a gentleness that stuns him, you lean in, bringing your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. You pull away, and he helplessly notices the way your lips part, how your breath hitches, and for a split second, the guilt becomes palpable, the significance of wanting a woman he knows he shouldn’t. You stand there, chest rising and falling, skin tingling, a faint trail of goosebumps visible where your neckline meets your chest. 

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another compromise he won’t keep.

From where you remain frozen, he’s certain you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighs every possible outcome. “It’s gonna happen, isn’t it?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and before you can react, his arm slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and turning you toward the car door. The cool metal pressing against your back startles a gasp out of you, but the suddenness only heightens everything—the heat of his body, the toughness of his hold. 

He doesn’t waste time with words, having always been a man of action. His hand cradles your face, inspecting your features to later crush his mouth against yours. Your tongue finds his without hesitation, seeking him out, hungry and unrestrained. He savors your eagerness, the way your hands roam over him, clutching at his shirt, tugging him closer by the belt until your lower halves are pressed tightly. The taste of beer and mint clings to your lips, and a husky groan rumbles from him as your fingers find their place in the longer strands at the nape of his neck, twisting and pulling him impossibly closer. 

He could lose himself in this, the simple, electric thrill of kissing you, how you fit so perfectly against him. Hours could slip by, and he wouldn’t mind, but then reality pulls him back; it’s too exposed here, right outside his truck where anyone could stumble upon you. “Get in the car,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, fumbling to unlock the door. It takes him three tries, and he chuckles, feeling the warmth of your laughter beside him as you tease him.

Once inside, his mouth finds yours again, this time more urgently, his hand pressing against your back, tracing the line of your spine through the clothes. “Tell me y’want this,” he breathes, his kisses trailing down your throat, latching onto the tender skin there. “C’mon, baby. Tell me y’want it. Tell me y’want me.”

A soft, breathy sound escapes you as his mouth fixates on that sensitive spot just below your ear. You tilt your hips instinctively, craving contact in search of relief, and he shifts you onto his lap, guiding your thighs to settle over his. Desperately working to undo the buttons of his shirt, yearning to uncover him, you pant against his cheek. “J-Jesus Christ, I need you. Please, touch me. Anything will do. Just—”

He’s silently grateful for your choice of a dress tonight. It makes things easier for him, and he gets right to it, bunching the fabric around your waist, hands roaming over the soft skin of your hips before moving his fingers lower, tracing teasing lines over your clothed center. He can’t fully make out the murmured words you breathe into his ear, but your voice drives him like a lighthouse guides a sinking ship, and he adjusts his movements, pressing with more intention. The only sounds filling the car are his ragged breaths and your gasping moans, and he holds you close to his chest, cooing softly as you start to rock into his hand, asking for more. 

His fingers find their rhythm, circling your clit in deliberate flicks. Joel watches as you unravel, trembling in his arms, a hint of drool spreading over his shoulder from your parted lips on his skin. His grip tightens as he tugs your underwear down your legs, grinning when you kick them impatiently to the floor of the car. Now, as he strokes his digits up and down your folds, you turn to putty on his lap. In another world, he’d have you laid out in his bed, enjoying each inch of your body. But here, in the cramped, dim backseat, he keeps the lights off. He knows it’s reckless, yet that barely slows him down. His cock throbs at the very risk of getting caught, at the edge he’s walking just to have you like this.

“Goddamn, you’re soaked, aren’t ya’?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, at least not in any coherent way. He sinks his middle finger into your bare heat, searching your face in the dark, contemplating the fluttering of your lashes. His hand weaves into your hair, a firm tug guiding your gaze to his. Your head tips back, a moan spilling from your lips at the new sensation, rolling your hips into his palm with earnestness. “It’s gonna be a tight fit, huh? If this is how you’re grippin’ my fingers, I can’t imagine what that cunt’s gonna feel like wrapped ‘round me.”

Studies suggest that in those final, fleeting moments of life, memories flood the human mind—a last journey through a person’s years before crossing over. If he were to die after tonight, he knows your face would be there, etched into his last breath. He can almost picture it: struggling for air, teetering on the edge, with that reddish, towering figure of mortality looming over him. But even then, he’d find solace in the thought of you, thrown into oblivion. You’d grant him a last-minute reprieve, easing the ache. You’d be the one who’d hold back the shadows. This constitutes the apex of his life, and he knows he should be worried, yet intellectual dominance doesn’t stand much of a chance when confronting the heart of a man. Not when that heart, so long starved of its pulse, has finally found someone worth remembering.

He makes space for himself, thrusting his long fingers into you until he’s got your slick coating his palm. One hand settles firmly at the small of your back, guiding your movements, while he feels his collected composure faltering. You mouth at the rough stubble along his jawline when you start to get close, breathless whimpers clouding his thoughts. “Joel,” you call out to him, as if that alone would make wonders. “Oh, fuck. Please, I waited a whole year. I need to come.”

A whole year. You were his once a year, and he was yours, a bittersweet ritual bound by time. He never would’ve thought this party could bring him such pleasure, though he can’t pretend he’s against it. Last time, he hadn’t taken the chance to pull you under and make you fall apart as many times as he’d wanted. He’s intent on making up for that missed opportunity, determined to make you enjoy every moment.

He withdraws his fingers abruptly, and a sharp laugh nearly escapes him at your reaction. You reach instinctively, grabbing for his hand, trying to guide him back to where he belongs between your legs. But he’s already moving, maneuvering you down until you’re lying on your back, fully under his command. He lowers himself, replacing his fingers with the warm insistence of his mouth. The sound that escapes your lips as his mouth presses against your center is nothing short of a scream—a wild cry that fills the space around you. He’s grateful he parked far from the other guests, because that sound would turn more than a few heads. 

Joel laps at your arousal as if it's the fountain of youth, the very essence of everything pure and precious in the world. He presses down on your thighs until they rest on either side of him, unclamping your legs from around his head. The suppleness of your skin feels divine under his fingertips, and he brushes his thumbs over your trembling form, coaxing you into calmness, to let him have his way with you at his own pace. It's an absurd paradox—aiming to soothe you while his mouth continues its fervent worship, tracing intricate patterns against your most sensitive flesh. His beard, streaked with gray and freshly trimmed, glistens with your slick, and Joel smolders with all-consuming passion.

When his friends had told him to go out more, maybe find someone to date, he's certain they didn't mean this. The smart choice (scratch that: the correct one) would have been to pursue a woman his own age. But fuck it—he's spent a lifetime doing what's right. Every road he might've taken would've led him here, to this moment, with you. Part of him believes he must still have something left, some spark of appeal. To have a pretty little thing like you, so eager, so willing, offering yourself to him? He has to have something. His knees ache from where he kneels on the unforgiving surface, but the burn is inconsequential, and he’ll endure anything to be what you need.

Joel trails his hand up your body, over the curve of your breast, before gently groping it, his palm covering yours in a shared grip. He runs the tip of his tongue along your folds, his saliva mingling with your wetness, aquiline nose grazing your sensitive bud. “You’re tellin’ me you’re this tight ‘cause you’ve been savin’ yourself for me? You do know what t’say t’make a man happy.” He spreads you open slowly, his gaze lingering on the way your cunt glistens, a sense of satisfaction rippling through him. You remain silent, your breath shallow. “Still with me, sugar?”

“It’s just that—I’m so close.” You bite back a moan, nails digging into the soft leather of the seat. Joel hums in response, his lips closing around your clit. Agitation flickers across your face as you try to grind your hips against his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

The pressure is gone as he notices your thighs quivering again, his movements halting immediately.

“No, Joel. Please—”

“You’ll come when I tell ya’.”

He’s having the time of his life. Damn right he is.

He suddenly realizes he's still dressed from head to toes, the heat building in his body becoming too much to ignore. With a frustrated grunt, he undoes his belt, yanking the metal zipper down, longing to rid himself of the constricting denim. A strangled noise escapes him as you suck on his neck, fisting his base, giving him a few purposeful tugs.

“Now, you’re gonna ride me,” he murmurs, making a pause to shrug his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor of the car, “and you’re gonna like it. Don’ want you t’hold back this time, understood?”

His back ends up against one of the fogged-up windows. The air is thick with the apparent scent of sex—a phrase he’d only ever heard in movies, but now, it’s undeniably real. Joel holds his cock, aligning the tip with your entrance as his lips crash against yours in a hungry kiss. A deep groan escapes him, vibrating over your mouth, nipping at your lower lip. The sensation intensifies when your wet interior welcomes him, velvet walls molding to his size. Your brows scrunch together at the stretch, a choked whimper catching in your throat. As your hips sink fully, your ass flush against his thighs, your body clenches around him, that abrupt tightness drawing a stuttering gasp from him.

“For God’s sake,” he exhales, the words rough as his forehead bumps into yours. His hand splays over your ribcage, fingers curling slightly. “Sweetheart, you’re—killin’ me here.”

“I can feel you everywhere,” you huff, your arms looping around his neck to pull him closer, holding your breath. He takes the moment to capture your nipple between his swollen lips, leaving a shiny trail of spit in his wake. You lift yourself, the motion teasing, before sinking back down onto his lap, taking him in fully. “Can feel you in my stomach.”

When you begin to move, Joel loses track of everything else. Time seems to stretch, bending and reshaping itself each time his tip finds some hidden place inside you. He’s fifty-six years old, yet in this moment, his soul feels infinite. Invincible. He brings his hand to your lips, thumb grazing over them before slipping inside. Your warm tongue envelopes it, and when you start to suck dutifully, muffling your moans, his body jerks in response. His eyes drift to your glistening chest, where a sheen of sweat makes your skin glow in the dim light. You’re the most captivating woman he’s ever seen, and he knows he’ll never look at anyone the same again. He can’t tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the way your body merges with his, the way you undulate your hips on top of him.

You move back and forth, and he drives into you, filling you to the brim with every calculated thrust. He thrusts upward, stealing the air from your lungs, the sharp motion making you sputter as your body struggles to keep up with his.

“That’s it.” His voice is a husky growl as he wraps his arms tightly around your back, your chests sticking together with sweat. His pace quickens, the rhythm becoming more insistent. “Takin’ it like a good girl. You feel exquisite, baby. Makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

“So big inside me,” you pant, your own pace faltering as you surrender to Joel’s unforgiving tempo. His hooded eyes flicker to yours, catching the way your pupils have swallowed up your irises, dark and blown wide with desire. A shiver runs through him as your fingers dig into his shoulders, your grip leaving faint crescents in his skin. “Missed your cock so much, Mr. Miller.”

Fuck, not that shit. If it’s possible, he grows impossibly harder. He pounds into you with renewed intensity this time, his singular goal to leave you speechless, boneless, completely undone. He wants you limp and shuddering, with nothing left to give. “Enough of that.” His hands find their place on the soft globes of your ass, molding and squeezing until the pressure has you mewling, the sweet sound shooting straight through him. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “Responsive everywhere, honey. Have any idea how much fun I’m gonna have with ya’?”

Who would’ve believed him back then? It proves this isn’t some once-in-a-lifetime fluke. It happened before, and now it’s happening again. He might as well surrender to it—accept his fate and move through the motions like a man resigned to what’s already written.

There’s a moment when your moans sharpen, turning high-pitched and dazed, and the way you constrict him sends his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, a guttural noise tearing from his chest. His movements still, clutching your waist to pin you in place, denying you the chance to move, to bounce on him.

Then you break. A sob wracks your body, tears spilling over and tracing hot paths down your cheeks. They gather, fusing together as they slide along your throat and pool in the hollow of your jaw before disappearing lower. “Asshole,” you hiss, the word fragile as you push your face into the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in his embrace.

“Sorry? Couldn’t catch that.” He makes sure to keep you securely tucked under his chin, tilting his lower half upward. “If you want me t’stop, just say the world and I will.”

He’s messing with you, plain and simple. He doesn’t actually expect you to take his words at face value. But you do, grinding down harder, impaling yourself further on the length of his cock, and your arousal trickles down, slicking the coarse hair of his thighs.  “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Slotting your mouth over his, you attempt to move, chasing any sort of friction against your clit. Sadly, pleasure doesn’t come on its own—it’s Joel who can make you feel good, and he’s not obliging. His hand seizes your hair in a rough grasp, tugging sharply. Eyes fluttering shut, you hunch forward, submitting to the sharp edge of his control.

“What an impatient little thing y’are.” Joel grabs your thighs and turns you over, your back pressed against the leather seat. The brusque shift pulls him out of you, the cool air a cruel tease before he taps his head against your swollen folds, then fills you again in one powerful thrust, kissing your cervix in the process. A deep moan rips from your lungs, deep and guttural, as your legs tremble uncontrollably on either side of him. Your ankles dig into his back, fervent to keep him close. His balls rest heavy against your skin, full and aching for release. “Gonna give ya’ what y’want, okay? You’ve been on your best behavior,” he mumbles with his lips stuck to your forehead. “That’s a good girl. Think she deserves to come after all.”

Only then does he find his rhythm again, ramming into your drooling hole. For the third time tonight, he’s captivated by how you teeter on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. He has you eating out of his hand, taking all that he offers, and you do so willingly. He knows he could ask you for anything, and in exchange for an orgasm coaxed by him, you'd comply without thinking twice. In many ways, he’s not so different. He gathers some of your saliva, using it to moisten his fingers before slipping them between your bodies, rubbing your clit as he continues to hit your bundle of nerves. Where his stamina comes from, he has no clue, though he’s determined to keep pushing.

Your face becomes a living poem, each cry of yours adding to its verse. Your head nearly reaches the door, but he cradles it with his arm, ensuring you don’t hurt yourself. “Close,” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes from falling shut. “Joel, please. Let me—”

“Give it to me, darlin’.” Another thrust, another moan. “Drench me, c’mon. That’s what y’want, isn’t it? To come all over this cock?”

The way he’s worked you up has its rewards, leading to a release that feels like an eruption. You bite down on his shoulder, your cries growing louder, chanting his name without pause. It loses all meaning after being chanted so many times, but the way you say it still has an undeniable weight. He doesn’t mind it one bit, not when he’s finishing right after you plead him to fill you. His jaw hangs open as ropes of his seed spill inside you, and he sags against your frame, giving short thrusts to push his cum deeper into your warmth, your pussy milking him dry.

“Oh, God…” he groans, fumbling with one of your breasts, holding onto something for dear life. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Don’t pull out yet,” you say, grinning when you feel him twitch. “Stay a little longer.”

Too personal. Too intimate—dangerous in his books. Normally, he'd tuck himself back into his briefs, drive the woman he’s slept with home, and that would be the end of it. No happy endings in his story. So he’s surprised when he supports his weight on his forearms, claiming your lips in a voracious encounter of tongues and teeth. He caresses your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss, and you sigh contentedly.

The two of you lapse into a heavy silence after that. He clears his throat, and says: “I should’ve asked you for your number that one time.” In the heat of the act, he’s being too honest. Regret will come knocking on his door once his excitement fades. His eyes bore into yours, dubious. “M’sorry for that.”

“Well, you could ask me for it now,” you admit from beneath him, and Joel pulls away for a moment, trying to gauge if you’re serious. He doesn’t think you’re joking. “To make up for lost time.”

This must be the onset of something else. He can't quite put it into words, but he feels it in his chest, in every place where your skin merges with his. He's no fortune teller, and there's no way for him to know where this path will take him, whether it leads to ruin or salvation. Though in this moment, he doesn't care—not now, at least.

At last, Joel blindly reaches for the pocket of his jeans with one arm. “How long are you stayin’ in Austin?”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[renjunphile]

way back home ❆ park sunghoon

⋆⁺₊❅. WORD COUNT: 22.4k ⋆⁺₊❅. PAIRING: enhypen's park sunghoon x female!reader ⋆⁺₊❅. TAGS & WARNINGS: figure skating!au, skater!sunghoon, skater!reader, enemies to lovers!au, ex bsf!au, kind of second chance romance!au, a lot of fluff, a little smidge of angst, a dash of fake dating blink and you'll miss, you used to stake for korea (more abt nationality than ethnicity), some inner conflict, burnout themes, tbz eric as a plot device oops, some heated making out

⋆⁺₊❅. SYNOPSIS: at the age of 5, you thought that you had made a life-long friend in park sunghoon. at the age of 16, you found out that life-long meant 11 years before you decided he was going to be your life-long enemy. but at 21, you're confronted with your past together as your figure skating coach decides to move back home to where you used to skate together after almost 6 years away abroad.

⋆⁺₊❅. NOTES: i've been attempting to write a hoonie ice skating fic for years and years since ice skating has been one of my big interests (watching, not doing) even before enha debuted- that contributed to the fact that hoon was my first bias. it's finally come to fruition and the wc just kept getting longer and longer- hope it's not too boring! i just wanted to write some mostly cute fluffy skater hoon!!

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

At the age of 5, you thought that you had made a life-long friend in Park Sunghoon. At the age of 16, you found out that life-long meant 11 years before you decided he was going to be your life-long enemy. You meant it this time, you had told yourself in the mirror of the rink's female bathroom while your hands were gripping the sides of the sink so hard that your knuckles were turning white.

Since that moment that led you to stomping out of the rink while still wearing your skates (thankfully with the guards on) all the way home, you've seen Park Sunghoon a total of 3 times. You're 21 now, but every time you think back to that moment of your falling out, the dull ache lingering in your heart still explodes into a fireball and you have to remind yourself that you'll never let him hurt you the same again.

Your body is set aflame as the president of the ISU gestures with his arms in front of a sold-out crowd for you to skate towards him for the photographers to grab a shot. You're no stranger to pictures with President Kim, but he's also beckoning over the newly crowned 2023-2024 Grand Prix Final Men's champion in Park Sunghoon.

"Aw, my two favourites," Mr. Kim coos as he wraps an arm around each of your shoulders' and grins to the camera, "I always knew it was only a matter of time before I would have two Korean skaters at the top again."

You groan internally at the consequences of being in the same frame as Park Sunghoon. Ever since one of your former classmates anonymously shared to a huge figure skating fan account that you and Sunghoon used to be best friends, you've been receiving demands to share stories about each other, not knowing your current relationship. Well, they must know from the fact that you two don't even follow each other on Instagram. On the flip side, you've also amassed unfathomable hate from his crazy, obsessed fans to stay away. There's always those people.

You paid no mind to them anyway, since being near Park Sunghoon voluntarily was the last thing on your wish list.

Sunghoon keeps the fake smile plastered on his face but snarks out through his teeth, "She doesn't skate for our country anymore. She hasn't in 5 years."

Mr. Kim chortles as if he believed Sunghoon's words to just be banter, "Don't be so unwelcoming, Sunghoon. Y/N is still part of our family."

You held back a scoff, letting out a sigh instead when the photographer finally turned his attention away from the three of you, "Mr President, don't you think you should root for all countries? You're no longer just the president of the Korean Skating Union."

He laughs obliviously, "I know, I know. I guess I should. I love my country of course, but I'll always cheer for you too Y/N. You broke all of our hearts when you switched nationalities."

You refuse to turn your head to your former acquaintance who makes a sound crossed between a scoff and a pained laugh, "Yeah, she sure did. Goodbye, Mr. Kim." Sunghoon bows his body completely at a right angle, pressing the bouquet of flowers he was holding for his win up to his chest before skating away without another glance at you.

Mr. Kim looks at you sheepishly, "You guys are still not on good terms?"

"I don't think we ever will be," you subtly roll your eyes at the hostility from Sunghoon, "I'm sorry he's like that."

"It wasn't all that long ago that you would race each other around the rink at junior nationals after the gala would end," he reminisces fondly, "It would be such a shame for you to have to look back on your friendship with regret."

"The damage is done, Sir," you tap your blade repeatedly on the ice to distract yourself from the pain you felt every time you thought about your friendship, "I hope to see you here again next year."

"Congratulations on your win, my dear," he smiles graciously and lets you skate away after bowing goodbye.

While you were ecstatic about winning your second Grand Prix Final gold medal in a row, you were also happy to share the podium with two friends that you have gotten close and closer to as you spent more time on the circuit. You glided back towards them as they took selfies with their flowers and their medals, trying to ignore the burning feeling on your back as if someone was looking at you from afar.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You liked to limit your interaction with Park Sunghoon to seeing him from afar once a year at the exhibition gala of the grand prix final or world's. It's only been two years that he's made the final, but you enjoyed another two without his villainous aura before that. Whatever deity you believed in had blessed you for the past 5 years; you hadn't been seeded to a single assignment with him through the seasons. There was definitely a force trying to keep you apart for the greater good of peace. You definitely took it as a sign that he wasn't meant to be back in your life anyway.

You thought that you had filled your quota this year with that little interaction with the president. You thought that you were finally in the clear for another year and you could move on with your life again without this god-awful memory weighing down on your chest every time you were in the same vicinity as him.

But Park Sunghoon stands before you, or more like crouches, as he tries to get a cola lollipop from the machine in the arcade of the hotel. It's not even been 24 hours since you last saw him.

When you spot him on the floor, you immediately turn on your heel to flee without being noticed. He has other plans, it seems.

"Did you know that you stomp like an elephant? For a figure skater, you're not very elegant on normal floors," Sunghoon doesn't take his eyes off the machine, watching as the conveyor belt trying to capture a lollipop turned and turned.

"Eat my ass, Park," you snipe back.

An amused smirk forms on his face as he turns his chin towards you, "Who knew you'd grow up so vulgar? That's quite unbecoming of you, Y/N."

"Don't say my name," you grunt, looking around for someone you know so you could exit this interaction, "In fact, don't even talk to me."

"As if you're the one who should be hurt. You moved continents and changed nationalities without a word," he scoffs, standing up and unwrapping the cola lollipop he had finally acquired, "Moving training locations, fine. But changing nationalities and not even warning your friends?"

If cartoon effects were real, there would be smoke coming out of your ears. You ball your fists tight and keep them glued to your side, "You were the one who broke my heart."

Sunghoon furrows his thick eyebrows together, halting the way he was moving the sweet between his lips. He takes it out and lets out an exasperated sound, "You never let me explai-"

You raise a hand to his face, "Save the bullshit, Park."

As much as a part of you wants to hear what he has to say, it still feels like the wound he inflected 5 years ago opens up anytime you hear his voice. All you could think about was that moment on the ice and the words he said that were sharper than his blades enough to cut deep into your heart. Honestly, you've tried to forgive him, or at least forget, but meeting his eyes now- you want to just run.

There's no longer any amusement in his expression, just frustration. You're satisfied with this, lunging forward to grab an unwrapped orange lollipop from his hand and walking away before he could register what you said or did.

You're breathing heavy; you hadn't let him affect you this way in years, but the anger is rising and the pain is overflowing out of the tiny box you kept it in and stored in the back of your heart. You sort of wish he'd run after you, grab your wrist and call your name, but you know that if you turn around right now, he'd still be in the same position.

It's been 5 years since you spoke to him, nearly 1 since you last saw him at the exhibition gala at the last World's. You don't intend to make a habit of Park Sunghoon again.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Your best friend Chaehyun twizzles around you in what you think is the shape of a heart. She's been trying out fun tricks to go along with the new go-pro that her coach bought for monitoring her training. It flies above the two of you with a prominent buzz that you've learned to tune out. You're standing in the middle of the rink, looking up and visualising the crowd you'll face tomorrow when you start the competition.

"Excited? Nervous?" Chaehyun's voice is naturally sing-songy but it vibrates as she moves at lightning speed around you.

"The same," your breath condenses into a cloud in front of you, "Just getting bored, a bit."

"Yeah, must be boring winning gold every single year for the past 4 years," Chaehyun snides, but not unkindly, "Do me a favour and fall on your axel tomorrow? I wouldn't mind having a world's medal."

"I would, but," you trail off and follow her with your eyes, "I want to go out with a bang."

Chaehyun immediately comes to a stop and rushes over to you, "What? What did you say?"

"I don't know if I should retire at the end of this season," you admit gingerly, gnawing on your bottom lip, "I'm just kind of exhausted."

Chaehyun gives you a weary look, "This doesn't have anything to do with seeing Sunghoon again in Beijing right?"

Your eyes widen at the mention of his name, "Chae, what? No! Why would it be?"

"Well, you cried all night after seeing him in the hotel," she reminded you, "And your coach wants to move back to Korea again."

"She does and I don't want to have to switch coaches. She's been with me since I was a junior, but I really can't move back to Seoul again," you tell her, "It's partly because of Sunghoon; all the memories would just hurt me over and over again the second I step foot in the country. Other than that, I've built a life on this side of the world."

Chaehyun scoffs at you, "Built a life? Your family is still in Korea and me, your best friend, is too. Your parents are getting older and you make them fly out to you every occasion. You shouldn't let Sunghoon dictate your life like this. You literally told me that you want an Olympic gold."

Your memories flash back to August, when you were vacationing with your best friend and drinking margaritas by the seaside, "2026 is really far away."

She gives you a strong side eye, "We can talk about this over dinner. You're literally the best female skater right now; you can't just retire at 21!"

"Alysa Liu retired at 16," you mumble.

Chaehyun smirks vindictively, "And Alysa Liu just announced her return at 19. Look, take a break, do what you need, but please don't give up on your dream so early."

Before you could say another word, a voice echoes in the arena, "Hey, it's our turn to practice."

Both of your heads whip around to the tunnel, where a few tall figures came into the light. Your head moves to the sudden movement of your coach, beckoning you to come off the ice after the end of the senior women's practice. You had wondered why there was no one kicking you off after your slot had finished.

"Heeseung," you grin at the sight of the cherry-haired boy, skating over to him and ignoring the presence of one ex-best friend beside him, "I haven't seen you in forever."

You clasp the boards tightly, swinging the gate open and sliding the guards over your skates. Heeseung is 3, 2, 1 step away from you and he takes you into a warm hug.

"I know," he coos into your hair, "It's a shame that Sunoo got injured and had to withdraw, but here I am in his place!"

You had known Heeseung nearly as long as you knew the boy beside him. When you and Sunghoon joined your skating club, Heeseung had been there for a year already. Through the years, he grew into a sort of older brother figure for the both of you and you never lost contact with him. The past season, he had been struggling with an injury and took off time to heal, but he recovered in time for nationals and placed 4th. Sunghoon had won the gold, Sunoo the silver and Jungwon the bronze. As Sunoo fell victim to an injury in practice in between nationals and World's, Heeseung had been invited to fill the country's berth at the championships.

In the middle of your conversation with Heeseung, you notice Sunghoon stalk away behind you to step onto the rink. You hear him greet Chaehyun happily as he passed by.

"I heard you might be moving back to Korea," Heeseung mumbles lowly under his breath.

"How do you know that?" you furrow your eyebrows at him. Had he overheard you? Did Sunghoon overhear too?

Heeseung shakes his head, his bangs falling into his eyes, "Our coaches used to be partners, remember?"

You flick your gaze to your coach, who was happily catching up with her ex-pairs skating partner of nearly 2 decades. They used to coach at the same rink, but when your coach fancied a change of scenery and was offered a role she couldn't turn down, you followed her across the world. Of course she couldn't keep a secret from her very best friend despite you begging her not to tell anyone yet.

"Does Sunghoon know?" Thankfully, Sunghoon's coach was different and not very close to your coach as Heeseung's coach is.

Heeseung denies this again, "I wanted to talk to you first. What's up with that?"

"Taeyeon's missing home and she feels like she's learned all she could have from head coach," you sigh, "I miss home too, but I don't really want to move. I also think I might take a break for a season instead; I'm feeling burnt out."

5 years ago, your coach was offered to be mentored by the most successful coach in the world of figure skating. While you trusted her already with your life, you both agreed that being under a 2x Olympic winning coach would be beneficial, so you didn't hesitate packing your bags despite the distance it put between your home and your family.

Heeseung looks at you with sincere empathy, wrapping you up again in his arms, "I'm sorry you're feeling that way. Have you spoken to your coach about it?"

"Kind-of. She's going to take on more students when she moves back home so she won't suffer in that regard and she said if I do follow her, I can help coach and maybe get a certificate," you nod, plonking your face straight into his chest, "I don't know what to do, Heeseung."

"I'm not very good at giving pep talks or advice, but I trust you'll make the decision that's best for you," Heeseung murmurs, "Just follow your heart, I guess. Wherever your heart is being pulled to, there must be a reason."

"Hey! You're wasting time!" a sharp, deep voice resonates behind you, causing you to turn your head to watch Sunghoon glaring at the two of you like you just sabotaged Heeseung's career keeping him at the sideline.

"I'll be there in a sec, Hoon," Heeseung remains calm, knowing that his best friend always gets in a mood whenever you're around or you're mentioned near him. He turns back to you, "Are you busy? Do you want to watch us practise?"

To the side of you, Chaehyun is hunching over an iPad with her coach, deep in monitoring. Your coach waves your own device at you when you catch her eye.

"I guess we can monitor here," you tell him reluctantly, to which he smiles, "But if he says anything, let me know so I can leave. I don't want to deal with him right now."

Heeseung squeezes your shoulders and moves past you to reach the gate. Still unsure if you were making the right decision by staying when Sunghoon was under the same room, you make your way gingerly to your coach.

"What a lovely reunion," Taeyeon exhales happily, "Kibum's pretending he's not overjoyed I'm moving back to Seoul."

Kibum is standing shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the rink with Junho, Sunghoon's coach, and they chat animatedly while the boys warm up.

"That's nice," you mumble, fiddling with the iPad to get up your practice run.

Taeyeon continues beside you, "I think you should make up with Sunghoon if you're going to move back home. It'll just be a better atmosphere in the rink."

"I don't know if I will go back," you remind her, "And what's wrong with the atmosphere? We're not affecting anyone."

Your coach lets out the most dramatic scoff you think has ever been produced, "Y/N, sweetheart. The freaking glare that Sunghoon was giving you and Heeseung when you were talking and hugging could have evaporated all the ice in this building. I was scared and he wasn't even looking at me!"

Your eyes dart to him on the ice, slowly speeding up his camel spin. You get that he didn't like you, but what reason did he have for glaring at you when you weren't even looking his way? Unprofessional, you thought to yourself.

"That's his problem, not mine," you jeer, "Can we review?"

Taeyeon giggles at your attitude, "Okay, feisty. Look, all I'm saying is that I watched the two of you grow up together. You had such a special bond and yeah, 5 years is a long time to not be friends from your point right now, but when you're older, that's not gonna be anything if you make up now."

"It's not my choice, Taeyeon," you tap your fingers against the glass screen, "I really hate talking about this."

"One day I'll get it out of you what happened when you fell out," Taeyeon hums off-handedly, "Okay, monitoring. Your spins were great, but you were a bit wobbly on the-"

Despite being the one to encourage focus, you begin to tune her out when you notice in the corner of your eye that Sunghoon was warming up his jumps. You watch him breathe deeply and the way he keeps his eyes up and on the ice to visualise the jump he was going to do. You can't take your eyes off him as he takes off and you hold your breath watching him rotate so quickly in the air. The breath only escapes when his blade collides with the ice and he lands the quad lutz perfectly.

It takes you back to when you were 16 and he was struggling so hard to land this exact jump- one that even Heeseung was yet to master. You remember him falling over and over and over again, training it into the late hours of the evening when you were supposed to be at home and resting. You remember him kicking up ice with his blades in frustration, on the verge of giving up. You remember cooing a pep talk into his ear until he was motivated enough to try again for the last time and finally land it in your presence.

"Y/N," Taeyeon snaps in your ear, "You're actually a walking oxymoron."

"I may dislike him, but I never said he's a bad skater. If there's a good jump about to happen in front of me, I wouldn't ignore it," you fight back, "Okay, sorry, sorry. Focus."

"I'm getting dinner tonight with Kibum and Junho," she tells you suddenly, "Do you want me to not talk about moving back? In case Junho says anything to Sunghoon?"

You let your eyes flutter close as your head spins with all the decisions you had to make soon. Sometimes, you have no idea where you were going next or what event you're training for. It's times like those that you're desperate for the world to freeze at your command.

"I just need some time to think before I make any decisions."

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You don't know where it all went wrong, to be honest. It probably started with the gold medal hanging around your neck and the hundreds of pairs of eyes peering up at you with their hands typing at the speed of lightning on their computers.

The journalist chosen to ask the next question has these sharp, inquisitive eyes.

"Your former nation, the Korean Skating Union has just published their congratulations on your gold medal and celebrating the return of coach Lee Taeyeon to Taereung National Training Center."

Your world stops and even the flashes don't affect your eyes anymore. You'll probably see these photos of you from the press conference all over figure skating twitter in a few minutes. Peripherally, you see Taeyeon's face contort into true horror as she scrambles to the mic.

"How is this going to affect your training? Are you relocating back to Korea with your coach?" the journalist finished up with a smile, as if she didn't just drop the biggest bomb with no warning. You guess it's not her fault; the KSU had spoiled the news too early.

In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter much. Skaters move locations and change coaches frequently; you'd done it once already. The only problem is you haven't told your family just yet... or Sunghoon, who still trained at Taereung with Heeseung and Chaehyun.

"We don't have any comments on that question as of now," Taeyeon pressed her lips together in a tense half-smile and motions for them to choose the next question.

You haven't moved since the question was asked, palms gripping the gold medal around your neck tightly. You don't remember answering many more questions actually and the next thing you know, you're sitting at the end of your hotel bed still in your national team tracksuit.

A rapid knocking begins at your door.

It takes you a few seconds to compose yourself and trudge over, but you sigh in relief when you see it's Chaehyun through the peephole.

"Chae, I'm so glad you're here," you exhale as you unlock the latches and open the door.

She gives you the most painful puppy dog eyes you've ever seen, "I'm so sorry."

"About what?"

Your heart stops again when Park Sunghoon steps into view from where he was hidden from the peephole. Immediately, your instinct is to close the door on both of them, but Sunghoon is quick to wedge his foot where the door is about to slam.

"Shit, shit, that hurts. I fucking have free skate tomorrow," Sunghoon curses under his breath with a hiss.

"I'm sorry, he's really convincing," Chaehyun tries to plead as you give her menacing looks.

Sunghoon crosses his arm and scoffs, still keeping his foot between the door and the frame, "All I asked was where her room was and you came up with the plan of pretending it was just you."

Chaehyun flushes pale and she pinches his arm, "Shut up! You said you wouldn't say!"

"Whatever this is-" you interrupt them harshly, "I don't care for it. So please leave."

Sunghoon rolls his brown eyes, finally using all of his muscle to push on the door and then on your shoulder to move you out of the way. He walks into your hotel room like it's his and gives you a smug look as he stands in the middle.

"Look, I think you two should talk," Chaehyun huffs finally, grabbing on the door handle from her side and pulling it shut, "Sorry, forgive me!"

The electronic door handle plays a quiet jingle as it locks and you're left in the room with your former best friend.

"I don't know what delusion is going through your head to make you think I'm going to stay in this room with you," you sneer, hurriedly budging past him to grab your phone, a hat and a jacket.

"Y/N-"

"Sunghoon, please," you yelp as his fingers clasp around your wrist, "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to talk," his voice is shaky, unsure, hesitant, but his grip is firm and his eyes search yours desperately.

"You want to talk? After 5 years of radio silence you want to talk?" you're frustrated as you snatch your arm back and shove him lightly on his shoulder, "I could have forgiven you if it was six months- a year, even. But 5? We're nothing more than strangers, Park Sunghoon."

Sunghoon winces visibly at your words, shutting his eyes for a second before giving you a pitiful expression, "Are you really moving back to Korea?"

You throw your hands up in the air and laugh dryly, "Are you being serious? You only care about me and want to be friends if I'm close by? As if you have no use for me if I'm somewhere else?"

"Y/N, don't put words in my mouth," Sunghoon begs. Every time he tries to step closer to you, you take a leap back. At this point, you're nearly pressed against the hotel room door, "I've always cared about you-"

"That's bullshit," you spit at him, "How can you say you've always cared about me when you're snappy at best whenever we see each other? How can you say you've always cared about me when you never called, not once, in 5 years?"

You can see his usual ice-cold, nonchalant front cracking in front of you, "I wanted to."

Hot tears sweltered on your water line, just a second away from escaping. They start streaming down your face when you begin to shove at him repeatedly, "You wanted to? Then why didn't you? Why didn't you fucking call, Sunghoon?"

Sunghoon's resolve shatters as he halts your wrist with his own and crushes you in a tight embrace that you try to fight your way out of, "I was angry, okay? I was angry that my first love practically left without warning before I could even tell her what she meant to me. I was angry that you only told me the day before you were leaving. I was angry that there was nothing I could do or say to make you stay. I was angry at the fact that you were going to be thousands of miles away from me, in a different time zone when I'd never known what life was like without you and suddenly I felt like I was being abandoned. I was angry because in all of my conscious memory up until then, you and skating were the only constant things in my life that made me happy. I didn't know what to do with myself without you."

You stop squirming against his body nearly immediately at the revelation, listening to his speech in near medical shock.

"W- what?" your voice is muffled into the material of his Team Korea fleece.

"That's all I wanted to say all these years," Sunghoon exhales like a weight is lifted off his shoulder, "I didn't know how to tell you."

"And if I don't move back to Korea, what are you going to do?" you're still crying, but you regain enough strength to pull away from his warm grip and look into his eyes that begin to flood identically, "How do you think that's going to fix anything?"

You're less than metre away from Sunghoon, but to him, you couldn't be any further apart with a rift in between you. He looks at you and you almost look exactly the same as five years ago. He knows that you're a much different person after the way he hurt you.

"I want to make it up to you, Y/N," he whispers unsurely, "I just-"

"Why did it take you 5 years and me potentially moving home to realise that?"

"I overheard Heeseung and Chaehyun talking about how you were considering retirement or a break," Sunghoon admits guiltily, "I didn't want to ruin anything for you trying to come back into your life when it all seemed so great in America. You've won nearly every medal there is to win. But I had no idea you've been struggling and it's killing me that I wasn't by your side and was adding to your hurt instead."

You make a mental note to bang your two friends' heads together the next time you see them.

"And what makes you think I want you to be by my side?" Sunghoon is the one squirming now, probably not expecting you to be relentless in your grilling. You're a different person than you were 5 years ago; you learned not to give in so easily when even those closest to you had the potential to hurt you.

"Just give me a chance to make it up to you," Sunghoon looks down at you with eyes full of sorrow. His lips are pulled downwards, and in another time, you would have been tugging on his hand to take him to the arcade, or the rink, or the park, or the river- to anywhere that would make him forget whatever was causing him woe, "Whether you're home or not."

You cross your arms and tilt your head to look away from him. You catch sight of the clock on your wall and see that it's nearing 11pm.

You manoeuvre around Sunghoon and begin to push him in the direction of the door, "You have your free skate tomorrow. This conversation isn't going to be the reason you lose; please go back to your hotel room and get some rest. Junho would kill me if he found out you were here this late."

Sunghoon is more than willing to comply with you now, "You're not gonna give me an answer tonight?"

"I can't, Sunghoon," you tell him honestly, "I need to think about this; I need to think about so many things. It feels like my head's not even screwed on the right way right now."

"I'm sorry," he whispers as he turns the handle and opens the door wide, "Good night, Y/N. Thanks for listening to me even though I didn't give you a choice and congratulations on the gold."

Sunghoon makes it three steps away before you call out his name softly.

"Hm?" he turns around to see you half hidden by the door, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to spew out what you were going to say.

"You were my first love too. Anyway, good luck tomorrow."

The door handle jingles and Sunghoon is left alone in the hallway of the hotel, feeling as if his life had just turned around again. At the centre of it, there was always you.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

"You should go home and rest first," Taeyeon pretends to scold you as she reverses into the parking space. She's been giving the same spiel over and over again since she picked you up from the airport, but you knew she didn't mean it from the way she was still driving you to your desired destination.

"I got plenty of rest on the plane and my parents aren't back from work until later," you retort again and then smile, "The KSU gave you a big raise, huh?"

Taeyeon laughs airily and the grin doesn't fade from her face, "I want only the best for my favourite skater."

You nudge her softly when she puts the car into park, "Thank you for paying for my flight. You really didn't have to."

"I get it, you're richer than me," she rolls her eyes, "Let a coach do a nice thing for her student, okay?"

Technically, you're not Taeyeon's student right now, but as her very first and most successful one, you'll always be her favourite. In reality, the fact that the two of you lived alone together and took care of each other in America made you more like family. She was a cross between a mother and an older sister to you and Taeyeon doted on you so that you never felt alone in America. Well, mostly.

She beckons you out of the car and you take the elevator up to the ground floor from the underground car park. There's a bunch of checks that you have to pass upstairs and it feels foreign to you to have a lanyard with the words 'GUEST' printed on them repeatedly. Once upon a time, you ruled this place.

"They're gonna come back from lunch soon. I made Kibum tell them all to come for an announcement after lunch," Taeyeon giggles to herself as she explains her own conspiring.

You chuckle along with her, "You're more of a sucker for this kind of stuff than I am! Telling me to go home and rest when you've been working behind the scenes without me..."

Taeyeon slides her arm around your waist and squeezes you against her side. You pass the double doors into the rink that takes your breath away.

"I'm just glad you're home, Y/N."

Strangely, it looks pretty much exactly the same as when you last saw it. Sure, the seats are getting a little worn and the floors have new scratches from dropped skates or dragging equipment, but the ice is as pristine as ever. It's sparkling white and perfectly surfaced- though you note that's probably due to ahjussi and his zamboni that you see disappearing into the tunnel on the other side of the rink. Chaehyun updates you that your favourite caretaker who's been working at Taereung since you joined is still there and you hope it's him. It would be nice to say hello in person again after nearly 6 years of occasional hello's when you video call your best friend at her training.

Kibum spots you first and jogs around to give you a big hug, "Welcome back to Korea, Y/N. I'm so happy you're here."

"Thanks Kibum," you smile sincerely at him. Since all the coaches at Taereung were so close, having been partners or friends since their own professional days, their students naturally got to know the other coaches too. While Taeyeon excelled at guiding you on techniques, spins and jumps, Kibum used to help fill out and polish your program with flair, charisma and poise. There was a reason that Heeseung always had some of the highest grade of execution scores in every competition. You had definitely missed his input while you were away.

"They should be here soon. I think I can hear Chaehyun," Kibum points to the direction you came in from, "Are you gonna hide or-"

"Shut up. Shut up!"

You spin to see your best friend frozen at the entrance of the rink, her hands over her gaping mouth, "I think it's too late for that."

"Y/N!" Chaehyun breaks out into a sprint and throws her arms around you, knocking you nearly off balance and having to take a few steps back, "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise?" you laugh weakly into her hair, "Aren't you happy I'm here?"

"I'm so happy! How long are you staying? There's so much to do now!" she pulls away from you excitedly and looks at the two coaches, "Where's coach? Do you think she'll let me take a week off?"

"Chae," you stop her bouncing by pressing down on her shoulders, "Relax. I'm moving here. Until the end of this upcoming season, at least."

Chaehyun gasps in delight and embraces you again, "Oh my God, this is the best news ever!"

"We're here too, by the way," Heeseung coughs behind Chaehyun, "We're also happy to see her, so can you share?"

Chaehyun spins and sticks her tongue out at Heeseung, but moves anyway. His hair is black again and longer than the last time you saw him. Despite that, his hug is familiar and you're always comfortable in his presence.

"I knew you'd come sooner than later after Taeyeon came back," Heeseung teases you, "I'm happy to have you around again, sweets."

"Sweets was my nickname for her," Sunghoon's deep voice called out behind the two of you. He's standing kind of awkwardly- leaning against the side of the stands as to act casual.

You remember when you started getting pocket money from your parents. Instead of saving it to buy a new plush or makeup from the mall, you would instead use it to smuggle vending machine sweets to practice. You would secretly slip some to your best friend here and there, and you were always getting scolded by your coach for your incessant sweet tooth despite needing to keep fit and healthy as an athlete.

"Hi Sunghoon," you greet him simply, a soft half-smile pulling on your lips. You immediately notice the change in his appearance, "Love the blonde."

He's a few metres away from you and you can feel all your audience's eyes on you. His own eyes widen slightly at the compliment and he shyly runs his fingers through the platinum locks, "Thanks, Y/N. I'm glad that you're back."

Chaehyun seals her hand over her mouth, but you can still hear the, "aw!" that escaped through the cracks. You spin your head so fast to glare at her that it nearly gives you whiplash.

"Coach, can we at least have the rest of the day off and catch up with Y/N?" Heeseung turns to face Kibum and then at you, "You're not busy, right?"

"You can finish practice now, but Y/N literally just got off the plane, so let her rest if she's tired," Kibum warns the three skaters, "And tomorrow, business as usual, unfortunately."

Chaehyun claps her hands together and drags you with her, calling over her shoulder that she was going to change and they should too. The locker room is still as sterile as you remember it to be- your old locker now devoid of the stickers you used to plaster all over the front.

"So?" Chaehyun quirks an eyebrow expectantly at you as she removed all of her training gear.

"So what, Chaehyun?" you roll your eyes at the girl, tapping at your cheek with your chin in your hand.

"Please, you saw the way Sunghoon was looking at you," Chaehyun laughs in glee, "Oh, I've been waiting for this moment forever."

You ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks, "This is moving too fast. I can't be hating him the last time I saw him to now being buddy-buddy. We talked a bit, yeah, but he still hurt me a lot and we're not in the clear yet. Of course, our relationship will probably never be the same."

"It's been 4 months since World's," Chaehyun notes, "You haven't thought about what you want to happen since then?"

You cock your head and hum in thought, "A little, but I've been distracting myself with the ice shows and every time I think about the situation, it just hurts, so I prefer not to."

"Hoon seems more repentant these days, to be honest. He's kinda sulky every time he sees Taeyeon and you're not by her side. He keeps asking her if you're going to come too," she stifles a laugh in remembrance of his antics.

"Taeyeon never told me that," you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

Chaehyun zips up her training bag as she finishes changing into more summer-appropriate clothes, "All I can tell you is that I'm sure Sunghoon wants to reconcile."

You ponder on it thoughtfully, trying to consider the implications of making up and how you were to go about doing that. It's never as simple as saying sorry and hugging it out; you've been living with the hurt and resentment for 5 years now. It was more second nature to ache whenever you thought of him than to smile. Undoing that is never going to be easy, no matter how much you want to forget the past in an instant and move forward.

"Come on, let's go get drinks," Chaehyun interrupts your thoughts by locking her arm with yours and tugging to exit the locker room.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

When the news came out that you were going to take a break in the next figure skating season, it was safe to say that the whole industry was shocked. You just finished the best run of your career and showed no signs of slowing down. You hadn't even had to withdraw from any events for injury in 2 seasons!

Everyone was asking why- were you injured? Were you depressed? Were you pregnant? That one made you kick your fellow countryman Eric's heel from behind.

The press conference wasn't easy- how were you supposed to just say that you were exhausted and needed a break? Every skater was exhausted, right? There was even more speculation that you were going to switch nationalities again as your coach moved back to Korea and this break was just to hide the fact that you were riding out ISU's one year waiting period. You were glad to quickly shut that down.

For the past four months, you occupied yourself by participating in every ice show and tour imaginable; you loved skating just for the fans and their entertainment when there wasn't judges critiquing every inch of your movement. It took you a long, long time to make up your mind on what to do during your break. While it was so tempting to just stay in America and ignore everything waiting for you on this side of the world, your best friends and family were able to convince you that 5 years was a long time to be away from home. Another option was to just keep pushing on with a different coach at your rink, but you couldn't bring yourself to trust anyone else other than Taeyeon and the team you had already built and just thinking about facing the next season alone left a bad taste in your mouth.

You never informed Chaehyun of your final decision because you knew seeing her reaction in person would be worth it.

Chaehyun had been there to pick up all the pieces after your fallout with Sunghoon. The two of you had known each other for a while since you both skated at the National Training Center since you were juniors, but she was the only one from the rink that reached out after you moved. When you felt isolated in the US after you first moved, Chaehyun had been the one to call you every day despite the time difference to make sure you didn't feel so alone. While you were friends before, Chaehyun became a sister to you thereafter.

It's weird to see all the people you considered best friends or once best friends all around you at the same table.

"Where are you staying?" Heeseung sips on his iced tea casually. He's sitting in front of you, with Sunghoon next to him.

You shrug, "Probably with my parents. It's easier and free."

Chaehyun pouts, "I wish I had a spare room for you!" and then she looks at Heeseung and Sunghoon, "If you two sleep together in the same bed, Y/N can take the other room!"

Heeseung reaches over to flick Chaehyun's forehead, "Why don't you give up your bed then? Plus Hoon snores."

"And you sleep talk," Sunghoon scoffs at his house mate. It's the first words he's said since he sat down at the table.

"You should get an apartment in our building, Y/N," Chaehyun suggests.

"I don't know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, let alone a year's time, so getting tied down to a lease sounds irresponsible," you admit, "Realistically, I need to go back to America to train cause I don't think the KSU would be very happy about me training at their risk for national team members."

"Oh come on, you know the KSU still loves you!" Heeseung counters.

"That's all fine for appearances, but I don't make them any money so using their facilities is a different ball game," you say, "There's other rinks, of course. I just don't know what to do yet."

"There's no rush," Sunghoon offers hesitantly, "You're on your break to relax, so don't worry about what comes next just yet."

You're taken aback by his contribution; his words are much more comforting than you thought they would be considering where your relationship stood. A few months ago, you and Sunghoon were on opposite sides of a plate with a rift between you that you thought was getting larger and pulling apart as the years went by. Now, it feels like you're both hanging in the air in limbo, waiting for the next move to determine what comes next.

"Thanks Sunghoon," you nod simply, taking a sip of your drink. You don't fail to notice the unsure look that Chaehyun and Heeseung give each other before Chaehyun scrambles to change the topic of conversation.

"Y/N, you haven't seen your parents right? Can I come with you when you go home?" Chaehyun coughs, "It's been a while since I saw them too and I miss your mom's cooking."

Despite Chaehyun's greatest effort to tread into a more neutral conversation, Sunghoon's stomach turns in longing. He too misses your mom's cooking. He misses you too.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You thought that being Taeyeon's assistant coach-in-training was going to be light work. After all, you'd been on the receiving end of it for many years, so being on the other side should be a breeze, right?

You were terribly, terribly mistaken. And you think that you should give Taeyeon an even bigger raise once the season after this one starts again.

Look, you've always known how hard your coach works. You genuinely do owe your entire career to her and you can't imagine where you would have ended up if it wasn't for her. You just didn't know how much she did behind the scenes in addition to everything she did for you on the ice.

The two of you are sitting in her office at Taereung, crowded around two computer screens side by side. Her office is narrow and small- just a desk, a chair and a few cabinets to keep papers, but the window stretching from the ceiling to the floor overlooking the mountains and hills of Seoul makes it feel much bigger. A few of her medals from her professional career are framed and hung on the wall opposite the desk, and there's picture frames of the two of you, as well as of her and Key when they won their first World's of many, interspersed with her medals.

"What's wrong with her form in this one?" Taeyeon quizzes you, tapping her pen on the freeze frame blown up on one of the screens. It's a still of her oldest student Boeun in the air. At 16 years old, Boeun's already achieved many great things for her country. The upcoming season was around the corner and it was Boeun's first year competing in the senior division, so her training was getting even more intense.

"Her arms aren't tucked in enough," you note slowly, "That's gonna creat resistance and slow her spin, so she might land wobbly or under-rotate."

"Good," Taeyeon nods in satisfaction. The two of you have been at this for hours and you're barely halfway through her free skate. Taeyeon's mostly been explaining to you her own thought processes, but whenever she senses you zoning out or getting bored, she's quick to fire questions at you, "Okay, you can go now."

You do a double take at your coach, "Huh, what? An I really bothering you that much? We're only halfway through the program!"

Taeyeon chuckles dismissively, "You're amazing, Y/N. It's just that it's 3pm and you should be enjoying your season off. I know that you want to gain experience coaching, but it's only the start of the year and we have a long time."

You pout at her request, but end up nodding hesitantly, "Okay, if you say so."

Spinning casually in her chair, Taeyeon murmurs off handedly, "You should catch Sunghoon downstairs; he finishes around this time. Maybe ask him to get some coffee."

Narrowing your eyes at her, you packed up your things, "Is this you meddling?"

"Maybe," she smirked, drumming her pen on the table, "It's not my fault I know the skaters' schedules."

"Stop rewatching Our Beloved Summer. Not every one gets a second chance," she'd been talking your ear off all week about the K-drama she watches every time summer rolled around despite knowing the plot line by heart.

A ghost of a smile flutters on her face, "Maybe, but I think you do. There must be a reason you ended up back in Seoul all this time."

You quirk your eyebrow at her, "And the reason is you moving back here. Whatever, I guess I can see if I can find him, but if he left already, it's not my issue."

You say goodbye to your coach, tugging on your jacket and slipping out of the door. You completely miss the way she scrambled to her phone to text one particular Lee Junho.

Racing down the stairs, you prepare yourself to face Sunghoon alone for the first time since he came to your hotel room. You're somewhat glad that he didn't pester you all these months, instead choosing to use your mutual friends to keep up on you. On the other hand, there's a selfish part of you that wished he would keep chasing.

There's a gaggle of juniors that are on the youngest side all propped up on the boards and watching Sunghoon finish some jump training when you walk into the rink. They're all peering up at him with wide, sparkly, awe-filled eyes as he traverses through the air with a grace you know that's only reserved by him. You used to look at your seniors the same way too; you and Sunghoon would come in early for your shared conditioning training and just perch on the stands watching whoever was on the ice. It was a way to learn, but it was mostly just a way you kept your love for skating alive among all the hardships.

There was never anything better than watching someone you aspired to be, knowing one day, you'll be the one inspiring the next generation. As long as you worked hard, of course.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" a tiny girl with her hair slicked back into a neat bun catches sight of you, gasping in amazement.

Sunghoon pauses on the ice, head snapping around to find you. You give him a small wave and a subtle smile, motioning for him to carry on as you addressed the kids that were one by one realising who you were.

"Hi, how's it going?" you smile genuinely, "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're working in the gym, but we're on a break right now. Coach said that Sunghoon-oppa was on the ice, so we came to watch," the three girls giggle with each other, but there's a soft smile resting on the two boys's flushed cheeks. The one that noticed you steps up against the rest, "I'm a really big fan of you. Coach said that you used to train here and came back, so I've been waiting to meet you. Do you think I could get an autograph?"

She's playing with the hem of her pastel pink training top, but you can tell that she's trying to keep her voice stable. The kids aren't carrying anything themselves, so you take out a notebook and pen from the front pocket of your bag.

"What's your name?" they're all a bit shorter than you, so you bend at the knees to meet her gaze. She grins at you with her brace-adorned teeth and tells you her name.

You sign quickly, leaving an encouraging message of well-wishes, tearing off the paper and handing it to her. The other kids have formed a queue behind her and are looking at you expectantly and so shyly that your heart bursts with happiness. You didn't have many juniors around at your old rink and certainly not ones who truly knew who you were and where you came from.

"I'll be around all season," you tell them as you sign the last piece of paper, "Don't be shy to talk to me, okay? It's my job after all to make sure you guys all become the best skaters you can be. No one knows this life better than your seniors, so make use of us."

Their grins are splitting their faces as they nod excitedly and run off to wherever their coach had appeared from. She gives you a grateful nod for entertaining them and by this time, you notice Sunghoon walking over to you, skates already off.

"You sure have a fanclub here," Sunghoon muses lightly.

"Ha, I didn't mean to conduct my very own meet and greet, but they're all so adorable," you say fondly.

Sunghoon mirrors your expression as nostalgia clouds his eyes, "Remember when we saw Jaejoong-sunbae in our first week here and snuck out of lesson to find him in the building?"

You clap your hands together at the forgotten memory being pulled to the forefront of your brain, "Oh my gosh and our coaches scolded us so much when they hunted us down and found us making him sign our skates and our bags!"

"Junho was just salty that Jaejoong was the face of figure skating at their time and not him," Sunghoon watches his coach disappear into a tunnel on the other side of the rink, "I bet they did that to their seniors whenever they came to Taereung!"

"Yeah," you agree, "Have they already got your signature?"

His eyes twinkle, "Yeah, the girls always watch whenever they're here."

"Sounds like they have a crush," you fold your arms and chuckle, "Let them down gently, yeah?"

"Ah, don't want a reputation as a heart breaker around here now, do I?" Sunghoon laughs easily, but then he realises the words that slip out and he slaps a hand to his mouth, "Wait. Um."

"It's cool," you giggle, "Taeyeon told me you were about to finish training for the day. I thought that maybe we could get a drink somewhere?"

Sunghoon's eyes widen in surprise, "Really?" you nod, "Oh yeah, of course. Wait here; I'll grab my stuff from the locker room and we can go."

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Something you never really thought about much was the fact that you and Sunghoon fell apart as teenagers. It was silly to say, but you had never considered the fact that now you're adults, your lives were very different.

Sunghoon was cruising down the highway with one hand on the wheel and the other propped up onto the door. His car is modern and shiny and his side profile from your view is exquisite- wait, what?

"When did you learn to drive?" you ask quietly, trying to keep your eyes on the road in front. There wasn't that much to do around the training centre, so Sunghoon suggested to go into the city and find a nice café in Hongdae to explore.

"It's been a couple of years. It was kind of necessary to get to Taereung when I moved out of the dorms," Sunghoon hums, "Do you know how to drive in the US?"

"I got my license, but I never really drove. Taeyeon and I lived together, so she would just drive the two of us everywhere," you recount, "She made me get my license cause it's easy over there. I'm not sure how well my skills will translate over here."

Sunghoon runs his free fingers through the platinum strands of his hair, "Let me know if you wanna go for a drive to learn. I can help you."

Trying to ignore the flush in your cheeks, you scoff playfully, "You would trust me with your nice car?"

Sunghoon meets your eyes and it burns through you so intensely that you immediately look away. Internally, you're beating yourself up for acting so pathetic around him.

He lets out a sound that's a cross between a laugh and an exhale, "I used to trust you with my life."

Dumbstruck, you keep quiet and chew on your bottom lip. Sunghoon doesn't press any further and the two of you just listen to the smooth r&b playing on the radio. Until you get to the parking space, it's silent, but you don't know what else to say to act casual around him. You stopped being casual with him 5 years ago.

By the time that you wrestle your seatbelt off and collect your bags from the floor of his car, Sunghoon has jumped out and raced around to open the door for you. It takes everything in you to not crumble.

"Thanks," you smile slightly. Sunghoon's stare remains intense and piercing.

He directs you into the café and the two of you awe and marvel at the array of cakes and pastries all decorated to look like animals or objects. He doesn't fight you when you breach the topic of paying for your own drink and confectionary, but he does carry the tray with both of your items over to a table by a window.

"Thanks for coming to see me and inviting me out," Sunghoon purses his lips hesitantly, not knowing whether to dive so deep so quickly.

You jam a fork into the chocolate cake dressed up as a bear, "I've made you wait long enough since World's. And I think nearly 6 years is a long enough time of enduring all this angst."

"You're right," Sunghoon utters, sighing deeply, "I just- I just don't even know where to start."

"The very start, I guess," you say sheepishly, "I never meant to wait until the day before to tell you I was leaving. The whole time that Taeyeon was convincing me to go with her, I was completely in denial about leaving. I think that I didn't want to tell you, because if I did, it would seem real that I was leaving you. You were the hardest thing I was leaving behind."

"Wonder what your parents would say to that," Sunghoon tried to joke, but he sounds more sad than anything as you delve back into the past, "I heard rumours about it, but I didn't want to confront you about leaving either. I just thought that there was really no way that we could ever be apart. I mean, our coaches had to schedule all of our training back to back because we were just so attached at the hip."

When you were young, everywhere you went, Sunghoon would be right beside you. School, the rink, the mall, the playground, the gym, the cafeteria- everywhere. You were like each other's lifeline.

"I was going to ask you to call, to keep in touch-"

Sunghoon's eyelids flutter close in regret, "And then I called you selfish before you could even say that. And I said so many words that I definitely did not mean. I'm sorry for that, Y/N. Please know that I really am."

Your eyes brim with stinging tears, so you crane your neck down and sip at your milkshake to calm down.

The hardest thing through the years was whenever you were left alone with your thoughts. Somehow, everything always led back to the boy that was now sitting in front of you. But for years, you couldn't escape the heartbreaking feeling every time you remembered the look of betrayal on his face when you told him you were leaving, and then the anger that seeped into his features.

"We were just kids," you bite your lip and swipe at your lash-line, "I wish I could go back in time and say goodbye properly."

Sunghoon pushed a piece of his cake around with his fork on the plate, "I was angry that you were leaving because I was going to confess to you that week."

Your gaze snaps up to his, "Really?"

"Mhm, I had been planning it and trying to work up the courage for so long at that point," he chuckles bitterly, "The fairground was opening up for the summer that week, if I remember correctly. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go and I was gonna try and confess then. You leaving so abruptly just broke my heart. I know it's not your fault though."

Your own heart cracks at the revelation, "I'm sorry, Hoon."

"And then I found out through Chaehyun that you were switching nationalities and it felt like we were two worlds apart," Sunghoon admits reluctantly.

You think back to when you were 17, being lured in by the country you held dual citizenship for and knowing that the deadline to choose a nationality was looming close, "There was so much depth in the Korean senior women's field. Taeyeon encouraged me to switch to increase the likelihood of winning national titles and getting spots at the Olympics. And they were willing to pump so much money into my training and paying Taeyeon that I couldn't say no."

"I know," Hoon nods affirmatively, "You don't have to explain yourself for that. You made the right choice and you're an Olympic silver medalist for it."

You smile weakly.

He continues, "The training centre felt so empty without you. For the first time, I actually had to make an effort to talk to the other athletes and none of them could measure up to you."

"I was really lonely in America," you confess in a small voice, "There were so many days that I almost called even though we left on such bad terms. I just wanted to hear your voice sometimes."

Sunghoon's eyes soften and his eyebrows pull together in regret, "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I missed you so much and I'm willing to do anything and everything to fix this- to fix us."

"And if I have to leave after this season?"

Sunghoon reaches over suddenly and wipes his thumb at the corner of your mouth. His finger ghosts over your lips for a second and your heart skips a beat and then begins to race.

"Sorry, you had some cake there," Sunghoon murmurs, "If you end up on the moon next season, I'll personally build a rocket to get to you."

Unconsciously, you let out a full laugh that causes a smile to invade his face. You bat at his arm, "Now, come on. That's too cheesy."

Sunghoon waits for you to stop laughing when he connects your eyes together, "But I mean it, Y/N. I need you in my life."

The steady, but quick thrum of your heartbeat pulses against your chest wall. All you can focus on is the adoring look that Park Sunghoon is directing at you. It feels like that's all you need.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

For someone who spent their whole life on frozen water, you certainly didn't spend much time with it... unfrozen. But Seoul in the peak of summer is something akin to hell on earth- you couldn't walk more than a few blocks without having to duck into a convenience store or any shop that had air conditioning. As much as you wanted to wear as little as possible to avoid soaked fabrics sticking to your skin, you recognised that you weren't in America anymore and the looks you'd get from the sweaty grannies was frankly guilt-tripping. Even hanging around the rink on those hottest days wasn't any fun- the ice was more temperamental than usual and the shock you felt the second you step outside after spending time somewhere relatively cool just intensifies.

On your day off, Chaehyun magically appears at your familial home, giving you a mischievous smile.

"Heeseung has a friend of a friend of a friend-"

You give her a pointed look, "You want us to crash a stranger's house party just so we can use their pool?"

Chaehyun humphs, "No! We're invited. Heeseung and Sunghoon are already on their way there, so get your ass in a bikini so we can go!"

"Sunghoon's coming?" your heart began to race a little faster at the thought, but Chaehyun throws a pillow at you before you can even collect yourself.

"You lovesick loser."

You catapult the pillow back, "Am not! I don't like him like that anymore."

"Tell that to the heart eyes you get anytime he's around. Since the two of you made up, you've both been insufferable dancing around each other," Chaehyun's voice takes on a mocking tone as she mimics you, "'Oh Chae, his triple axel is so pretty today!' or 'oh Chae his training top fits him so well! or 'oh Chae, he brought me coffee today!'"

You ignore the giggling girl behind you in favour of packing some towels and a change of clothes into your bag. Over the past few weeks since you resolved things with Sunghoon in the café, he's made it a mission to make your life hell- well, he doesn't know that.

You thought that there was no way you could ever like-like him again after all the hurt that you grew to associate with him, but recently, your head and your heart have been all over the place. It's been hard to see each other super often since your schedules didn't overlap much, but he went out of his way to do nice things for you, such as getting you drinks after he finished training and you were still working or dropping by little snacks with encouraging notes to the office for you to encounter once you came in.

There was also the glaringly obvious change in your dynamics in the fact that he grew up hot. Sunghoon had always been handsome even when you were kids (it's one of the reasons you developed a raging crush on him), but it's different now that you're adults. Your brain worked differently now and his appearance and the way he commanded the ice all while making training gear look like designer had you feeling some kind of way.

"Hurry up," your best friend whined from your bed. You humph noisily and speed up shoving random items that you think you'll need into the bag until she has enough and starts tugging on your arm. I mean, it's her fault she only gave you a few minute's notice from when she turned up at your door.

Chaehyun drives like a mad-man all the way to this elusive friend of a friend of a friend's house that you start thinking you might need to get your own car to get you to places in this city. But then you remember how pretty Sunghoon's profile looked from the passenger seat-

"Why are you smiling like that?" Chaehyun laughs, "You look like an idiot."

You roll your eyes, "I'm just happy to be going to a pool party."

"You're happy to go to a pool party so you can see Sunghoon shirtless-" you reach over and she yelps, "Yah! Don't hit the driver! I'm gonna drive us off this cliff!"

You retract your arm away from her, "Don't say stupid shit, Chaehyun."

"I better not see you staring later then," she murmurs under her breath as she pulls into a parking space near the house. You text Heeseung to come and get the two of you outside because you didn't want to walk straight into this guy's garden without the ones who invited you.

He meets you promptly, a cup of something in hand and sunglasses hanging on the tip of his nose, "Urgh, finally. Hoon and I were waiting until you two got here so we could swim. It's so hot!"

You've only been outside of the car for a couple of minutes, but there's sweat forming in beads on your hairline already. You follow Heeseung through the side gate towards the direction of blaring music and the smell of barbecue. It truly was a party, because you couldn't even locate Sunghoon once you stepped into the clearing.

There were people crowded on loungers and people hovering by the barbecue and even more surrounding a ping pong table that was being used for beer pong. The pool wasn't super crowded, mainly for the fact that this guy lived in a mansion and his pool was practically Olympic sized.

"Jay!" Heeseung calls over a tall man with slick back hair and a sharp jawline, who smiles kindly to the two of you, "These are my friends Y/N and Chaehyun. Guys, this is Jay's house."

"You have an amazing house," Chaehyun gawks, "What do you do?

"He's a model," Heeseung answers for him hurriedly, "Y/N, Sunghoon's over there, go get him."

Heeseung points to the opposite corner of the garden where you could make out a group of people sat on outdoor couches around an unlit fire-pit. You squint and try to focus, seeing Sunghoon conversing with a girl that was leaning her whole body into him.

You pull a sour face, "I think he's busy."

"Get him," Chaehyun nudges you encouragingly, "He doesn't even look happy to be there."

You huff loudly, already sensing their meddling from a million miles away. What could you do though? It was basically law that best friends would tease two ex friends who had feelings for each other in the past to get together.

Quickly muttering a goodbye to the host, who flashes you a charming grin, you stalk all the way over to fire-pit. As you get closer, you begin to hear their conversation.

"Your arms are really big," this girl runs the tips of her fingers along his arm that was stretched out on the couch behind this girl, but Sunghoon visibly recoils from her touch, "Aw, am I making you shy?"

You nearly puke at her sugar sweet tone and halt your steps instead to watch how Sunghoon would react. You didn't want to cock-block the guy if he was actually interested and you were reading the situation wrong.

"Um, thanks?" his voice is awkward and he takes  a swig of the liquid in his cup.

"What are you doing tomorrow? My friends and I are hosting a party at my house if you wanna come," she continues on, "It'll be really fun!"

"Ah, I'm not really into parties."

The girl pouts her glossy lips, "Really? How about we hangout alone then?"

"I told you that I-"

Annoyed at the thought of having to hear any more of this conversation, you clear your throat, causing Sunghoon's head to fly in the direction of the sound. He does a quick double take, but his face lights up all the way to his crinkled eyes once he realises it's you. You don't think you've ever seen a man stand up so quickly and this girl jumps back on the couch, clearly offended.

"Y/N, baby, you're here!" your eyes bulge out of socket when Sunghoon wraps his defined arms around your waist, making contact with the skin exposed by your cropped shirt. He nuzzles his head into your neck and leans up to whisper into your ear, "Play along, please?"

The girl on the couch scoffs at Sunghoon, "I thought you were just trying to brush me off when you said you had a girlfriend."

You narrow your eyes at her as Hoon settles beside you, keeping one hand squeezing your waist, "Then why didn't you get the hint? Do you wanna be a homewrecker?"

The girl stands up and rolls her eyes at you, "Whatever," she stomps away, stopping at a group of girls that are all staring at you menacingly.

"What was that?" you mumble to Sunghoon, who is smiling at you sheepishly and taking his arm off you.

He scratches the back of his neck, "Ah, sorry Y/N. She wouldn't leave me alone so I said I had a girlfriend."

"That didn't seem to work anyway," you retort in amusement, "And you were letting her get awfully close and touchy for someone who had a so-called girlfriend."

Sunghoon opens his mouth to apologise again, but a glimmer appears in his eyes that causes him to hold back and smirk, "Ah, why- were you jealous, Y/N?"

You grit your teeth and smack his chest, "In your dreams, Park. Let's go in the pool- it's so hot."

Mercifully, Sunghoon decides not to say anything else as he watches you put down your bag on the couch he was occupying and tug at your clothes.

"Look away," you murmur, causing Sunghoon's cheeks to redden. Thankfully, he could use the alcohol he was sipping on as an excuse as to why his face was so flushed as he turns around and pulls his own shirt over his head. He hears you unzip your skirt and drop it onto the couch, and then the pitter patter of your flip flops towards the pool, "Come on!"

Sunghoon only turns in time to see you slide into the pool off the side, so he quickly ducks down and follows. The heat is absolutely battering your skin, so you briefly plunge your entire body and resurface to find him smiling goofily at you.

"What?" you interrogate curiously.

Sunghoon shakes his head and splashes water up to his face, "Nothing, nothing. Aren't you glad that you came?"

"Well, I was forced to," you grin, splashing cheekily at him.

Sumghoon pouts and splashes back at you, "Are we playing this game?"

Cocking your head to the side in fake innocence, you peer up at him, "What game?" you scoop with your cupped palms and flick the amassed water over his body.

A mischievous look creeps up on his features and he smirks at you, "You don't know what you're getting into, Y/N."

You turn as quickly as you can in the water, launching off in a random direction in a pathetic paddle/waddle considering the fact you're not a great swimmer. His laugh echoes in the air as he dives and chases after you, and before you realise, his arms snake around your exposed waist and he drags and dunks you under the water. Thrashing, you kick against him, but Sunghoon's hold is too strong on your body even after you surface. You splutter the water out and rub at your eyes to get the chlorine water and your sticking hair away.

When you open your eyes, you realise that your bodies are pressed up against each other, him clinging to you, with your faces just mere centimetres apart. You're breathing heavy from your underwater struggle, lips parted and exhaling. Intently, you watch as Sunghoon's eyes peer into yours and then flash down to your lips before he cracks a grin.

"I guess I win?"

You grunt, pushing him away, "You have 5 seconds to run, Park."

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Summer ceases for another year in the blink of an eye and autumn creeps in slowly, and then all at once. The leaves on the trees surrounding Taereung have long changed colours, now making their home on the ground in piles of yellows, oranges and reds. You're both eagerly anticipating and dreading the snow, mindful of the fact you haven't lived through a Korean winter in a long, long time.

You try to appreciate the chilly breeze with clear skies, but it's hard when you had gotten used to the same mild or scorching temperature year around.

Sunghoon sighs as he steps in front of you, watching you tug your gloved hands on the neck of your jacket, "You've forgotten all about our autumn and winter, haven't you?" He unwraps the wool scarf that was adorning his neck and places it around your own. You hope that he'll put down the flush on your cheeks to the weather.

"Hoon, it's fine. We're not even going to be walking far," you insist, moving to take it off, but he places a hand over yours and gives you a sharp look that has you backing down.

He takes the handle of the suitcase away from your grip and walks in front of you. You huff and chase after him, "Seriously, Sunghoon. What if you get sick? I'm not the one competing."

He flashes you a prince-like smile, "Then you'll just have to take care of me- ow!" he flinches as you swat at him, "It's fine, Y/N. This weather is nothing to me and I mainly brought it for you. I knew you wouldn't be prepared."

You quieten down and ponder on his words. You shouldn't be surprised- even when you were young, Sunghoon was always attentive to your needs. Not much had changed since and you feel like you've fallen into the routine of your old friendship again, with a hint of flirtatious remarks from him then and now.

It's a nice feeling to be getting along with him again. It's filled up and healed a crack in your heart that appeared when you left and was never mended until now. Even though it was hard at first to be open with him, he's doing a diligent job breaking down your walls and occupying the space beside you like he once did.

The walk from the airport drop-off to the entrance is decently long, but Sunghoon rolls the two carry-on suitcases beside him, while you just haul your handbag. You're meeting the rest of Team Korea seeded to this competition at the airport, which makes you nervous. There's one other women's skater and a pair of ice dancers travelling to America with their coaches and staff and they're so young that you don't know them from your junior days. As much as Sunghoon, your friends and your coach try to convince you otherwise, you're not a part of their country's staff and a lot of them are likely reluctant to talk to you about strategy and programs- especially the skater that you would compete against on the circuit.

Lee Yunah fakes a smile at you when the two of you join the team at the check in desk. She grins over at your companion and tells him that they're sitting next to each other in business class. You're preparing yourself for a near 13 hour flight in economy next to Junho, Sunghoon's coach. It was definitely nice of Team Korea to fly out their skaters in business class on the way to competitions- something you were also used to with your federation.

You don't really know why Lee Yunah isn't fond of you. Of course, she's never mean or outwardly vicious, but you get the feeling through her pointed looks and tight-lipped smiles that you weren't her favourite person. Most girls you know in the circuit are so sweet- they always congratulate you and make conversation whenever they see you, but you've never had a full on chat with her despite sharing a language. You know that she's a couple years younger than you, but only came to Taereung 2 years ago after training someplace abroad.

You're heading to Skate America with the team because you figured you could watch and then travel to your home to get some things you left behind and check on your apartment. It was currently left half-empty after Taeyeon moved all of her things out, but your belongings were still there. You had a cleaner come every month to make sure the apartment was still standing and wasn't being infested while you were gone, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to come and see it for yourself and maybe see a few friends.

You and Sunghoon mostly just sit in silence at the gate after you pass security, texting your families your whereabouts and telling anyone relevant that you were going to be off your phones for the duration of the flight. You queue up your playlist and try to search online the movies available on the flight to save some time picking on the plane.

At one point, he excuses himself to the bathroom and returns with your favourite drink in his hand.

"Saw it in the vending machine by the toilets," he shrugs casually, to which you thank him profusely. You're a big fan of airplane food, much to everyone's chagrin, but you absolutely loathe the small selection of drinks they have to offer. The iced tea will definitely carry you through the flight.

When you finally get onto the aircraft, you're delighted to find that only you and Junho are in the row of 4 seats, so he shuffles to the other end to give the two of you space in the middle. While it's not the window seat where you could rest your head on the side, you and Junho can definitely take turns stretching out across the unoccupied seats and having a better sleep. It's a night flight, so you're definitely going to be exhausted in a few hours.

Before you turn your phone to airplane mode, Sunghoon texts you a selfie from his seat, looking sad with an exaggerated pout despite the fact that he's in a lie-flat seat with a screen twice the size of yours. You send him multiple eye roll emojis before telling him to get some good rest on the flight.

It takes around 40 minutes for the plane to taxi, take off and climb before the seatbelt sign turns off and the plane reaches a constant altitude. The plot of the movie you chose is dragging on a bit, causing your eyes to droop already, when a figure appears from Junho's side and leans down next to him. You watch curiously as Junho stands up from his seat into the aisle and as Sunghoon crosses two other seats to plop down next to you.

"Hi," he breathes out.

"What are you doing here?" you pause the movie and quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Yunah wouldn't stop talking my ear off!" he grumbles, settling into the seat, "Even when I put the partition up, she put it down after 5 minutes."

"So what?" you muse, "Are you giving up your lavish life in business class to be uncomfortable in economy?"

"I don't wanna sit next to her," Sunghoon whines, "Her crush on me is suffocating. I thought she would have moved on by now."

Ah, there it was. It was pretty obvious to anyone that had eyes that Yunah had a big, fat crush on your friend. You also knew that Sunghoon was pretty oblivious when it came to things like this- or he was when you were younger. That's why it came as a surprise that he already knew.

"She confessed?"

Sunghoon lets his eyes flutter closed, his long lashes kissing the tip of his cheeks, "Mhm, maybe a couple weeks before you came to Seoul? I rejected her then, but she hasn't given up, it seems."

You tear your eyes away from him, afraid you'll do something stupid like brush the fallen lash that sits on his cheekbone with your thumb, "Why did you reject her? She seems like a nice enough girl to you."

"She's not who I want," Sunghoon murmurs without missing a beat. He doesn't even let you ponder on his words before he opens his eyes and turns to his coach, poking him with his finger, "Hyung, can you take my seat? I wanna lie down here."

Junho gives him a funny look and they exchange a few words that you tune out as you think about what Sunghoon means. Does that mean there's someone in his head that he's decided on? Someone he's crushing on?

As Junho happily waddles out of economy to occupy his newly upgraded seat, Sunghoon stretches out across the seats. You notice that his feet ever so slightly dangle to the side into the footwell, so you grab a pillow and place it on your lap.

"Sunghoon, put your head here," you pat the squishy fabric.

He looks up at you with big, shiny eyes that had the ice in your heart melting, "Are you sure?"

You give him an affirmative nod and watch as he shuffles his head up to your lap and nuzzles to get comfortable. There's a light, resting smile on his lips and you softly brush the hair out of his eyes.

"Goodnigh, Y/N. Wake me up when you wanna swap," he breathes out, eyes already squeezed shut.

"Goodnight, Hoonie."

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

The gold medal hanging around Sunghoon's neck compliments the beam on his face as he poses for photos on the podium. Your heart squeezes in pride; you've been noticing how he's getting more and more consistent with his wins over the past two seasons and it's starting to look like he's going to dominate the male field single handedly. This was all you ever dreamed of when you were young and aspiring; winning and winning some more and being by each other's side. There were some bumps on the road with that, such as Sunghoon's run in with a bad form early on of his senior career, while you were experiencing the opposite. You sigh contently at the universe's plan to move everything around you as everything fell into place.

"Gold looks good on you, Park," Sunghoon is grinning at you as he walks over to you after the press conference, a while later.

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Sungjoon holds up the medal hanging around his neck delicately like it's a baby and the most precious thing he's laid his eyes on.

You nudge his arm with your elbow, "Don't act like this is your first; you're not that far behind me."

While you exploded on the scene as soon as you made your transition to seniors, Sunghoon's growth was gradual and more sustainable. He worked hard and steadily over the years, waiting patiently to reap his rewards. Now, he was decorated with nearly every medal in quick succession.

"Nah, you're miles ahead, sweets," he drops the term so casually you almost don't react, but by the time you realise, Junho is telling him it's almost time to warm up and run through his exhibition gala routine.

Sunghoon turns to you as he pulls the medal off his body and drops it around your shoulders, "Can you keep this safe for me? I'll see you after the gala, yeah?" his left eye drops into a wink before he takes off on a jog back into the direction of the rink.

You're stood there dumbfounded, fingers clasping the fabric of the medal. Junho stifles a laugh at you, making a note in his head to tell Taeyeon how your relationship has progressed in just a short time from the airport to now.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

"Welcome to my home sweet home," you breathe out as you step foot in your apartment for the first time in months.

It's a little chilly and the air is a bit stagnant, but otherwise, the apartment has been maintained well by your caretaker. You quickly turn on the heating and A/C to circulate the air while Sunghoon rolls his small suitcase in and takes off his shoes by the door. It's the first time you've seen shoes that weren't Taeyeon's next to yours in this apartment and it endears you to see it's Sunghoon's beat up shoes from when you were younger.

"You need new shoes, Hoon," you mumble pointedly at the raggedy pair.

He pouts cutely, "They're my favourite! They're perfectly moulded to my feet and we bought them together at the department store on my 16th birthday, remember?"

"And you are 21 now, Park Sunghoon," you crinkle your nose at him, "I think you can afford to part ways with them."

"It's not about affording, it's about our emotional bond!" he protests while he taps his sock-covered feet on the leather that was about to peel.

"Whatever. That is Taeyeon's old room. Put your stuff in there and I'll find some bed sheets," you point at the door on one side of the living room. You cross the shared area to reach your own bedroom and the linen closet.

By the time that you managed to pair up two sets of everything to adorn your stripped beds, you find Sunghoon in the kitchen, snooping through your cupboards. You doubt that he would find anything; fresh food hasn't crossed the threshold since you left and you did a freezer clear-out of most things too.

"Are you hungry? There's not gonna be any food, so we can order in," you pass by behind him as you go to drop the sheets in the room.

The two of you had breakfast in the hotel buffet in the morning with the rest of Team Korea, but after that, you were busy packing your bags and stressing about making it to the airport in time to eat between Texas and your home. It's creeping up on dinner time, so as athletes, you were starving.

"Can we order Korean food?" Sunghoon's tone has a cheeky lilt to it, which you don't understand until he turns around and you find green bottles in his grasp.

You gasp, "I left soju here? I thought I drank them all when I had a goodbye get together with my friends. What a nice surprise, but should we be drinking?"

Sunghoon shrugs and places three bottles on the dining room table, "Why not? I just won Skate America so we can celebrate, I guess. And we don't have any schedules or training for the next few days."

You always planned to visit your apartment after the competition even if it required a short plane ride to a different state. What you hadn't initially decided was whether you would invite Sunghoon or not. In your head, it was going to be a bit awkward inviting Sunghoon to a trip just alone straight off the bat without any of your friends first, but Chaehyun convinced you that there was nothing wrong inviting your friend. At one point, you considered each other best friends and you wouldn't have hesitated in the past, even when you did have a crush on him.

Convincing Heeseung and Chaehyun to fly to the States and make it a group treat came to no avail as they were both going to Skate Canada just a few days after Skate America and therefore would need to be using this time intensely training. You considered taking a trip over to Halifax and watching your other best friends too, and then trying to convince them to come back with you, but going coast to coast back and forth was tiring and time-wasting. You don't think that Taeyeon would appreciate you skipping out on more days of work back in Korea just because you couldn't stomach the thought of being alone with Sunghoon in a private place.

In the months you've been in Korea, you've definitely been alone with Sunghoon- you eat together often, you work out together often, you walk around shopping districts and café hunt together often, but you haven't been alone with him with nowhere to run to yet. This is your apartment after all.

After you order the food, you convince Sunghoon to go and set up the bed and unpack his belongings a little, while you did the same in your room. Apart from the stripped bed, the room seemed largely untouched and a little empty. Still, you left behind some memorabilia such as some of your competition gifts (all the medals and trophies were in the living room, as they were celebrating both you and your coach), pictures with your friends and team on this side of the world and a heap of plushies that you couldn't justify hauling with you all the way to Korea.

You took most of your clothes to Korea, but you left behind your competition dresses that were displayed on a rail. Fondly, you inspected each of them and let the warmth of the memory fill your heart. While you were missing competing already, you know in your heart that this break is what you need so you don't burn out too fast; you want to be with the sport for as long as possible, even if you did foolishly contemplate retiring at first.

After intense and thought-provoking conversations with your coach and your best friends, you came to the decision that taking a break was a much easier and less-permanent step than announcing you were retiring off the bat. You know you made the right decision when the thought of coming back on the ice made you feel excited, instead of dread.

Your door was ajar, but you still get shocked when Sunghoon knocks on the wood to let you know of his presence, "The food came, Y/N."

"Oh, really? Sorry, I didn't hear it but thanks for getting it," you furrow your eyebrows at how you spaced out.

Sunghoon steps further into your bedroom, which has you training your eyes on him carefully as he perches on the end of your bed, "It's weird not knowing what your bedroom looks like now, when I used to have them all memorised."

Your heart clenches at the thought. When you still lived at home with your parents, Sunghoon lived nearby and was always around for play dates in your room or house. As you grew up, the two of you would study together on your large desk side by side with the chair that he stole out of your parents' office. When you both moved into the dorms briefly, you would find ways to sneak him into your room even when boys weren't allowed in the girls' dormitory. He spent a lot of time in your dorm room napping while you did online school before the two of you would head over to the rinks for training.

You hang your costume from the last Olympics back onto the white rail, "Well, now you know."

Sunghoon takes this as an invitation to inspect more purposefully. There's a printed picture of you, Chaehyun and Heeseung on the pin board above your desk. From Heeseung's hair colour, Sunghoon could tell it was from a couple of years ago. There's a few newspaper clippings up about your victories and a few childhood photos of you on the ice. When he finds that there's nothing to indicate his previous presence in your life, he feels a little guilt, even though he expected it.

He was such a big part of your life once- and you to his- but misunderstandings had forced the two of you apart, mainly due to his own angst. If he wasn't so stupid and young, maybe his face would appear on your pinboard too to signify his importance.

"I can feel you thinking over there," you chuckle and sit next to him, "What's up?"

Sunghoon's eyebrows are knitted together in some kind of frustration, "I missed so much of your life because I was so up my own ass. You achieved all the things we talked and dreamed about for so long and I couldn't even celebrate with you or tell you how proud I am of you. I'm sorry, Y/N."

His words take you aback and you instinctively lean into his body, "Stop saying sorry, Hoon. We agreed to move past it, remember?"

He kisses his teeth, "I know, but I'm still so angry at myself for doing that to us and pushing us apart when it was the exact opposite of what I really wanted."

Your heart begins to race as it so often does when you're faced with Park Sunghoon. You turn your head towards him to find him already looking at you with parted lips. You fight with your might to keep your eyes up as your fingers grasp the bedsheets.

His words nearly echo what he said on the plane about Yunah not being the one he wants.

"What did you really want?" your voice drops to a whisper, reluctant to ask in fear of having to face his answer.

There's a moment when his eyes scan down your face and land somewhere lower, but he's meeting your gaze again quickly as a knowing smile stretches across his lips, "Are you sure you wanna hear it?"

There's a churning in your stomach as you examine his expression. It's so unreadable and unfamiliar to you that something inside you snaps and you jump up, "The food is gonna go cold. And the soju's gonna go warm," you speed walk out of the room and leave behind a chuckling Sunghoon.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Spending your teen years in America where you just barely became legal to drink meant that you didn't get a chance to build up your alcohol tolerance the same way Korean teens did. While you vehemently do not condone drinking if Taeyeon asks, you still know that in Korea's heavy-drinking culture, teens were able to access alcohol much earlier and easier and drank a lot more than you and your same-aged friends you made in America. At the same time, you didn't go to a physical college to be able to engage in questionable behaviours like underage drinking at parties or with college friends since most of your friends were fellow athletes who had it drilled in them to take care of their bodies. While in Korea, it was practically a rite of passage to sneak in alcohol for special occasions and not so special occasions to the dormitories once the lights went out and the adults went to sleep.

You're a testament of that cultural and social gap as your head lulls heavily in the air, while Sunghoon watches you in half amusement, half concern. You seemed okay for a while, matching his pace with shots as you talked casually and ate the takeout and then suddenly it seemed to hit you all at once and you were slurring and giggling at nothing and dropping your head. Although you protested, he managed to cut off your alcohol and even poured down the remaining liquid down the sink so there was no chance of you getting any further gone.

Sunghoon was definitely buzzed too, to the point that risky decisions seemed appealing to him now, but his concern for you overtook any feeling.

"We should get you to bed now, Y/N-ie," Sunghoon hums as he pats your head flopped on the table, "Let's get up."

"No!" you bang your fist on the table softly, "I don't wanna. I wanna spend time with you!"

Sunghoon's heart leaps out of his chest hearing those words, "We have all day tomorrow and the day after and then we have the whole ride back to Korea. Plus, we practically work together."

You murmur something incoherent into the table and Sunghoon has to urge you to lift your head up.

"I said that we barely see each other at the rink," you mumble again, peering up at him adorably.

Since the season kicked off, your schedules were busier, but it endears Sunghoon to know that you were thinking about him, "I'll make more of an effort to see you more often then. But we should get your drunk ass to bed now."

"I'm not drunk," you hiccup cutely as your face scrunches up and then relaxes as you examine his features, "Has anyone ever told you that your moles are really pretty?"

Sunghoon is struck silent by you so suddenly and he thinks he's forgotten how to breathe when your hands reach up to cup his face. Your expression is so soft yet determined as your fingers ghost over the placement of the marks- over his nose, under his eyes and then the pad of your thumb presses gently into his skin just a few centimetres away from the corner of his lips.

Your touch on him is kickstarting his heart into gear and his heart is beating out of his chest. It's almost like all at once, you've completely undone all his resolve when this whole time, he's been trying to push his feelings away in order to restore and rekindle his previous friendship with you.

But let's face it, Sunghoon doesn't want to be your friend.

Or at least he doesn't want to be just your friend anymore.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" his own hands find their way up to cup your hands, which makes your fingers press deeper into his skin.

"You're so handsome, Hoonie. You grew up so well," your voice is so dreamy that Sunghoon becomes hyper aware that you might not say these things when you're sober. He tries to pull your hands off him, but you just bat away at his grasp, "So, so pretty. Makes me want you all to myself."

Your table is abnormally narrow, or so it feels like. With the way that you're leaning up to him, he only needs to move a little to meet you and maybe press his lips into yours-

Sunghoon shakes away his tipsy thoughts as he forcefully removes himself from your caress and walks around the table to hoist you up, "Let's get you to bed, Y/N. Seriously."

The walk to your room is precarious. Sunghoon feels like he's getting more drunk with every step he takes trying to manoeuvre your unwilling body. You're clinging onto him for life, groaning and complaining about not wanting the night to end, but he tunes you out to prioritise taking care of you. You both got changed into pyjamas after your second shot, foreseeing the night to end a bit tipsy and therefore likely disinhibited from normal tasks. All Sunghoon has to do is peel back the covers and coax you into lying down.

He brushes the hair out of your shining eyes once he gets you to settle on the bed, "I'm gonna get you some water, okay? Stay here."

Your hands clutch at his bicep, not even going all the way around, "Hoonie, I missed you."

He smiles fondly at you, "I missed you too, Y/N. I really did."

When you let your heavy eyelids fall, you also let a smile grace your face. Sunghoon captures this moment in his mind to store in the part of his brain that you've made home in and he decides that no matter what and if it is up to him, he'll never leave your side again.

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

"Sunghoon, this is Eric," you gesture between the blonde haired guy beside you and the pink haired one in front of you, "Have you guys met before?"

"In passing when I would give him dirty looks on behalf of you," Eric snorts, "And we've met a few times on the podium, right?"

Sunghoon nods stiffly, "Yeah, a few."

Eric quirks his eyebrow, "Well, anyway, it's good to finally meet the elusive Park Sunghoon. I've heard lots about you, not good things as you imagine."

You reach over to smack Eric's arm with a scalding expression, "Eric, behave."

He lets out a boisterous laugh that has introverted Sunghoon squirming in his seat, "Relax, i'm just playing. Really. I'm glad that you two are on good terms again. Y/N-ie always talked about you and while it was out of anger mostly, I could tell that behind it all, she missed you."

"This is not behaving either," you mutter with a glare at your friend.

Eric was a fellow skater at your club. He joined the year after you came from a different club in the city to work with your coach's mentor. The two of you became fast friends despite him being a couple years older than you and he was one of the friends you were missing since moving back home.

Over the years, you grew more comfortable in confiding in Eric about your friends back home and specifically about Sunghoon after he witnessed a little spat between you a few World's ago.

Sunghoon has always been the shy and quiet type, which is one of the reasons why he struggled so much without you- you were practically his only friend then. Eric, on the other hand, is too extroverted and talkative for his own good. You like to think you're a happy medium in between them both. However, you know that this meeting won't go off without a hitch.

"Y/N-ie, do you know yet if you're gonna come back next season?" Eric takes a sip out of his cocktail. The three of you are sitting on a shaded table on the porch of a brunch spot, basking in the slight warmth of the October sun. It's a stark contrast to what you'll come home to, "We all miss you so much over here."

You feel Sunghoon stiffen up beside you and you cast a quick glance at him. He's trying to play it cool by mixing around the mojito he ordered with the straw.

"I'm not sure yet. It feels like I just got to Korea, to be honest," you skirt around the question to avoid making Sunghoon uncomfortable. In all honesty, it was the truth. You wanted to focus on enjoying your time there without worrying too much about the future. Then again, you had to make sure that your team was ready for you wherever you were going to end up in the world. While Taeyeon was arguably the most important part of the team, there were so many more people behind the scenes that shaped your career.

"We really love having Y/N around," Sunghoon adds on nonchalantly. You can tell that he's trying to avoid voicing out his real opinion in favour of supporting whatever decision you'll come to make.

"So do we," Eric grins, "I miss having my partner in crime around."

Sunghoon resists the urge to roll his eyes out of his head. You were his partner in crime first. Plus, you never even mention Eric much around him. How close were the two of you really?

"The staff are probably so happy that we're separated," you giggle in acknowledgement, "Who are you stealing the Zamboni with now?"

A memory flashes through the forefront of Sunghoon's mind when you first broke into the Zamboni cupboard and stole the keys. You two were practically punished for days when you were caught lapping the rink in circles at the age of 14 and subsequently ruining the work of the driver. Thankfully, you did learn over the years at your new rink how to operate the machine, so stealing it with Eric was mostly just for the thrill.

If emotions could manifest in real life, Sunghoon was green with envy. He would never accuse you of replacing him when the fall out was his fault anyway, but the thought that you did things with Eric that you used to do with him made him feel so sick.

The way that Eric addressed you with soft nicknames and a teasing tone had Sunghoon's stomach churning. He practically sat through the brunch seething in silence, only speaking when you addressed him and asked him a question.

What was even worse was that you hadn't talked about the events of the previous night at all. By the time that Sunghoon returned to your room after fetching your glass of water and trying to calm himself down in the kitchen, you were already fast asleep in dreamland. In the other room, Sunghoon seemingly couldn't sleep a wink until the next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by you frantically telling him to get up as you were gonna be late to meeting Eric.

So here you all were, nursing your hangovers with even more alcohol and a whole lot of carbs.

Eventually, Eric had to run for his final fitting for his costume that he was debuting at the Grand Prix de France in a few weeks, leaving you and Sunghoon to stroll along the streets lined with brunch spots and themed cafés.

"How'd you find Eric? I know he's kind of a lot at first..." you chuckled awkwardly, sensing only halfway through the meeting that it was probably not a good idea to have them meet just yet.

"I'm just glad that you had some friends over here," Sunghoon said sincerely.

"It was hard at first, but once Eric came, he dragged many people into our little group of friends," you agree quietly. Sunghoon is walking tensely beside you, fingers clasped behind his back instead of swinging by your side like usual.

"Mhm."

"You're not jealous, are you?" you ask hesitantly, looking straight ahead at the strip in front of you.

"A little," his confession takes you by surprise. You halt your step and catch his arm.

"Eric is flirty but he doesn't actually mean anything by it."

Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh and gestures for the two of you to sit on a nearby bench. It's a weekday morning, so there's not that many people hanging around the streets. People were mainly just walking past with a purpose to reach a certain shop instead of walking casually like the two of you were.

"After last night, I don't know where we stand," Sunghoon gnaws at his lip nervously. As much as he'd love to pretend nothing was changing between the two of you to preserve the good terms you were on, he feels like he can't carry on any longer.

The memories of the previous night come rushing back to you, not having been able to think about it beforehand due to your rush to meet Eric. You fold into yourself in embarrassment and move away from Sunghoon. You're not even internalising the meaning to his words, too preoccupied with cringing internally at your actions- there was a reason why you didn't drink much.

"Y/N," Sunghoon scoots closer to you, "Did you hear what I said?"

You peak at him through your hands covering your face in shame, "Hm?"

Sunghoon laughs softly at you as he moves your hands away from your face gently, "I said I don't know where we stand."

You cock your head at him, "Are you asking me what are we?"

Sunghoon's face heats up, "I'm just as nervous and embarrassed as you are about this, Y/N. Just give me a straight answer."

His candour inspires a bout of bravery in you as you give him a confident smile, "As I said last night, I want you all to myself."

You can practically see the moment a glimmer of hope sparkles in his eyes as he shuffles even closer to you. Your thighs are touching at this point, body twisted towards one another.

"Really? In what way?" he presses on.

You try to look away, intending to evade the conversation and point out something irrelevant, but Sunghoon reaches up to your cheeks and keeps your face straight at him. His expression tells you everything you need to know.

He's been waiting for your answer for practically 6 years.

"In the way that I'm in love with you," you confess.

When you spent countless nights pondering on what exactly your feelings were for Park Sunghoon, you always imagined that telling him would be hard. When you were young teens, confessing to your best friend was something that had you panicked and flustered, not even once entertaining the idea in fear of ruining your friendship over a crush.

But looking up at him now with that pleading and hopeful look on his face had the words falling out of your mouth.

It felt so natural to tell him, the same way that breathing came easy to any human. You used to always tell each other that you loved each other, but telling him you're in love with him? It was as automatic as your heart beating.

"Okay, good," Sunghoon is completely drowning in you, but is trying to keep his composure, "Cause I definitely want you all to myself in the way that I've been in love with you for years and years and I don't intend in sharing."

You chuckle at him, "We're going to have to work on that, I think."

Sunghoon scoffs and suddenly lunges forward on the bench. His nose bumps against yours, "You're mine, Y/N. And I'm yours too."

His breath fans over your lips and you're so desperate to push your face forward and connect your mouths together, but he places a teasing thumb between your lips.

"Sunghoon," you grumble.

"Yes, sweets?"

"Can you just kiss me now?"

A smirk envelops his facade as he moves his thumb out of the way, "My pleasure."

Your lips slot together so naturally that you don't know how you've gone this long without connecting the other piece of the puzzle. You're thankful that the street is deserted as Sunghoon presses his lips on yours gently at first, but then more purposeful and deeper as you reciprocate and move your lips against his.

Kissing Sunghoon feels like fireworks exploding, butterflies in your stomach and the comforting  feeling of home all at once. One hand is caressing his cheeks, moving over the mole just under his eye on top of his cheek bone and the other is running through his hair. Sunghoon's hands are clasping your cheeks like he's afraid you're going to run or disappear as he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue into your mouth.

You whimper into his hold and let him take the lead. Everything has been leading up to this moment. You knew that time when you took him to a café to talk that this was going to be inevitable. Your heart was always going to be pulled to Sunghoon's and there was no use fighting it.

The famous saying that there's a very fine line between love and hate was all too true. The changes in your relationship over the years were always just sides on the same coin. At the end of the day, you completed each other.

"I love you, Y/N. You don't know how long I've been wanting to tell you that," Sunghoon mutters against your lips.

"Likewise, Hoonie," you press a soft and fleeting kiss on his swollen lips before you pull away properly, "But we should go somewhere more private."

Sunghoon coughs in surprise and begins to splutter, "O-oh? Damn, take me out on a date first!"

You rise to your feet and give him a disgusted expression, "Shit, Hoon. Not like that! Urgh, I'm taking it back."

Sunghoon chases after you in glee as you stomp away, "Wait, Y/N! Come back! You still haven't answered- what are we?"

"Back to enemies," you turn your upper body to glare at him, flipping him off with your middle fingers, "Boyfriend privileges revoked before they even started!"

You're practically sprinting away from him at this point and Sunghoon has never been happier running after someone as he feels his heart leaping out from his chest, "Boyfriend? Y/N, come back!"

"No!"

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You watch from the stands as Sunghoon finishes up another run through of his free program after a small tweak to one of his elements. As he hits the final pose, you explode into claps and cheers.

"That was so clean," you praise beside Junho who was nodding approvingly.

Sunghoon skates over to the gate and sighs contently. Junho claps him on the back, "You're all done for the day, then. Good job, Sunghoon."

"Thanks, hyung," Sunghoon grins, "Is there anyone using the rink after me?"

"Hm, I don't think so? Usually it'd be Heeseung but they're not back yet from Canada," Junho ponders the question, "Are you gonna keep practising? Don't overwork yourself."

"No, I just thought I'd drag Y/N onto the ice today," he looks over at you, your expression turning into surprise, "You have your blades on you?"

Junho bids the two of you goodbye, reminding Sunghoon that he had some schedule tomorrow with a sponsor. You eye Sunghoon nervously, "Why do you wanna skate together?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, "It's been a while since we've properly shared the ice. I thought it'd be fun."

You leave him skating laps around the oval as you fetch your shoes from the locker room. Since you arrived in Seoul all those months ago, you've barely been skating- maybe twice a week when helping some of the younger girls you've been coaching. You're definitely out of practice, but you figure that you still have a little time left before you had to start getting used to skating all day, every day again ahead of the new season.

The shoes are a second skin to you and it will never feel foreign slipping them on no matter how long it's been. Your first steps on the ice are still confident - you haven't lost touch at all.

"Do you think we could have been a good pairs team?" you ask Sunghoon in amusement as he reached out a hand to you skating towards him. You crash into his body with a big 'oof!' as he envelops you into a warm hug. Thankfully, you're pretty appropriately dressed for the ice today.

"We probably could've been the best," Sunghoon nods along, "We trusted each other so much."

His past tense has your face falling in a frown that he quickly catches, "And I still trust you with my life. I'm working to make sure you will trust me again too."

Sunghoon's voice is soft as he releases you, but slides his fingers in between yours. He starts pulling you along side him slowly, just gliding beside each other.

"I love you, Sunghoon," you tell him suddenly, feeling so overjoyed at being by his side again on the ice at the second rink you called home together, "Thank you for trying with me again."

"No, thank you for letting me come back into your life," Sunghoon bounces back, sending you into a spin and then capturing your grip again, "Being with you makes me want to be better every day for you."

You feel so warm inside despite the temperature of the indoor arena as you move together in tandem. If you close your eyes, you can picture your 15 year old selves holding hands and leisurely skating around like couples at pop-up Christmas-time ice skating rinks. Instead, you were just two kids with the weight of the figure skating world's expectations on you, holding onto each other for support. 

"I don't think I want to leave at the end of this season," you admit quietly to him, "Everyone I love is here and I don't have any reasons to go back. I'll do my best to convince my federation and team, but I'm sure Taeyeon will find a rink for me in Seoul or lobby to have me here if there's space."

Sunghoon squeezes your hands assuringly, "Whatever decision that you make, I'll support you. If you're not allowed or it will take another season to sort everything, don't stress or worry about it. I'll be by your side."

You give him an appreciative look and nuzzle your head into his neck. Sunghoon twists to drop a searing kiss on your temple.

Time passes quickly as the two of you skate- at one point, you were playing a game of tag chasing each other all around the rink and pulling out your best tricks. Sunghoon was then curious on trying to pull off some pairs skating stunts, which you indulged for a bit like that couple's yoga challenge, but quickly had to shut down when he was getting too ambitious. Maybe you'll ask Taeyeon and Kibum to show you guys a few tricks one day.

As you were also done for the day, Sunghoon convinces you to come over to his apartment to watch a movie and have some dinner. Heeseung and Chaehyun were coming back later in the evening from Canada, so he proposed that you would tell your two best friends then the new update in your relationship. It's been a week since you got back from the states, but you had just missed your other best friends going to their own competition and they were far too preoccupied to talk.

"If you're gonna stay in Seoul, do you think you'll want to move out?" Sunghoon asks you as he prepares the food on the stove. Apparently, Sunghoon has been attempting to learn how to cook, but you'll be the judge of that since he used to be wary of going near the kitchen after a tragic ramen fire.

You're sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, watching him work from the side. You volunteered to help, but Sunghoon was determined to cook for you himself, "Maybe Chae and I could move in together if her lease is up soon. We've always talked about doing that one day."

Your childhood home wasn't horrifically far, but anything closer to the rink and to your friends would always be more convenient. You've enjoyed spending time with your family again after all that lost time, but you think that it wouldn't hurt to move out again if you were going to stay in the city. It was just something you had to discuss with Taeyeon once you thought about it some more.

"Mhm, you two could move into a 2 bed in the building if there's one available," Sunghoon agrees, "Or maybe the 4 of us could get a house somewhere or something."

You raise an eyebrow at him, "Woah, take me out on a date first!"

Sunghoon groans at your teasing tone as he stirs the stew on the pot, "Speaking of, will you let me finally take you out this weekend?"

After you got back from the States, the two of you had been swarmed with work and haven't been able to fully explore the relationship that blossomed between you while you were away. You saw each other daily at Taereung, but you hadn't had time to go out together on an official date.

"Looking forward to it, Park," you chirp, "Is it gonna be a surprise?"

He nods knowingly and turns around to bring the pot of kimchi-jjigae over to the pot holder in front of you. The smell is inviting, warm and comforting, perfect for a chilly evening as it was outside. It smells like home and watching Sunghoon buzz around the kitchen collecting the cutlery and bowls feels all the more domestic. You could definitely get used to this.

"I really hope it tastes good," Sunghoon exhales as he takes the bar stool beside you and scoops out a portion of soup and rice for you, "Eat up, my Y/N."

You take the first scoop tentatively, still a bit unsure of how good his cooking will actually be, but when the flavours melt in your mouth and tingle your tastebuds, you squeeze your eyes shut in glee, "Urgh, Hoon, it's good. I'm surprised."

Sunghoon claps joyfully and begins to portion out his food too, "I can't wait for you to see all the tricks I have up my sleeve. I've had to learn a few things about life."

You watch him eat fondly, thinking about how exciting it is to learn about each other again and how you grew as people in the time apart. Knowing everything about a person isn't as exciting as the adventure of slowly discovering new things about each other that makes the person who they are now. The fall out isn't something you'd ever wish for again, but it's time to consider the positives instead of dwelling in sorrow.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Sunghoon presents casually as he slurps some broth.

His question has you choking on a piece of kimchi. Sunghoon simply laughs at you and pats your back almost teasingly. When you were in America, you maintained your boundaries in separate rooms as you didn't want to rush into anything, but you must've told Sunghoon that you had a late start the following morning and so did he.

You used to hold sleepovers as kids all the time until you hit puberty and your parents had to pull back on that. When you were in the dorms, you were spending so much time with each other anyway that it didn't feel necessary to have sleep overs. Why cram in one room when Sunghoon could just sneak back a few minutes to his own bed whenever you finished what you were doing?

"Nevermind," Sunghoon giggles melodiously as you eye him.

"No, no- I do. It's just that I've never stayed around a guy's place before," you're likely blushing as Sunghoon squeezes your cheeks.

"You're so cute, Y/N-ah," he coos at you, "But this is the kind of stuff we do while dating, right?"

"Us dating still seems so foreign," you wrinkle your face tight, "It makes me happy, but it's so strange."

Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn't take offence, "I know what you mean; it's definitely going to be a transition, but it's all I ever wanted so we're just gonna have to fight the awkwardness. We can start by overcoming cuddling tonight."

The way he phrases his words has you chortling along with him and he just rolls his eyes and urges you to eat up so you could get ready for the evening ahead. Once you finished your bowl,  packed up the leftovers in the fridge for Heeseung and washed the dishes while he dried, Sunghoon was rummaging through his room to find spares of everything to lend you since you were unprepared.

He had better skincare than you, so that wasn't a problem and his scents in his toiletries weren't so musky and masculine that it hurt your nose when you used them in the shower. Sunghoon was glad to remember that he bought his toothbrush in a pack previously, so you brushed your teeth together bumping hips and competing with each other to see who would spit first. He picked out a baggy shirt for you and some joggers that had a drawstring so you could be comfortable.

Eventually, you found yourselves with your legs tangled together on the couch after he dragged his duvet out to the living room. They had one of those modular couches that was L-shaped in the day, but could be moved around to create a sort-of bed situation that was perfect for movie nights. He had put on the latest Spider-Man film, remembering how you used to watch Andrew Garfield's franchise back when you were younger and you used to think he was so cute.

"Do you still think he's the best Spider-Man?" Sunghoon hums as he appears on the screen in what was once one of the exciting appearances in cinema.

"Yeah, but Tom Holland has played his version in so many movies now and he's really good," you reply after some thought, turning to find him incredibly close to your face, "Woah."

Sunghoon's arms were wrapped around your middle, but he pulled you closer to snuggle tighter, "You're so cold, baby."

You hide your face into his chest and muffle your voice against his shirt, "You're making me shy."

His body begins to vibrate as he breaks out in fits of giggles, "Trust me, I feel shy around you too. You honestly make my heart do crazy things without even trying."

You pound your fist against him, "Hoon, stop!"

"What?" he whines defensively, moving his hand up to your chin to guide you out of hiding, "Look at me."

Your cheeks are permanently red around your best friend as he gazes down at you with all the fondness in the world in his eyes, "Stop it or I'll leave!"

Sunghoon rolls his gleaming eyes playfully and nudges his nose against yours- something you quickly learned he loved to do before kissing you, "Nah, you love me too much to leave."

Instead of answering him, you just connect your lips together again, letting his natural warmth spread to your cold body. His arms tighten around you, pressing you up against him as he pressed rougher. He tasted like the sharp mint from your toothpaste, combined with his cherry lip balm that he had applied after, but there was also his own very distinct taste that you were growing more addicted to.

You feel him smile into the kiss before he squeezes at your waist and moves so that he was more hovering over you instead of beside you. Your heartbeat was thudding rapidly in your chest as he pulled away but then immediately attached his lips onto your neck in a spot that had you breathing out his name like it was sacred.

You must have been so preoccupied in Sunghoon that both of you missed the beeping of the keypad and the sound of the handle turning.

"Oh shit," Heeseung gasps as the front door swings open to give him a perfect view of the two of you.

You and Sunghoon let out a yelp that was more surprised from you but frustrated from him. He shoots the fellow skater a menacing glare, "Do you know how to knock?"

Heeseung scoffs at the two of you, "Well, yes. Except that you're in the living room and this is also my apartment. So happy you guys made up but can you keep making out in your room, please?"

At this point, you've shuffled so far away from Sunghoon and are hiding your face in the comforter in embarrassment. You wanted to tell them you were together, but that didn't mean you wanted Heeseung to catch you two.

"Who's making out?" you hear a familiar voice fade in behind Heeseung, "You left your passport with me, Heeseung-"

Chaehyun stops in her tracks when her eyes land on you on the couch, looking all bashful with Sunghoon emitting an annoyed aura. She presses Heeseung's passport into his chest without breaking eye contact with you as she approaches you menacingly.

"Y/N, Sunghoon. Do you have something to tell us?"

"Yes, but Hee walked in before we could get a warning that you were back," you sheepishly say.

"I actually texted the groupchat when we pulled up to the parking garage," Heeseung interjects, but Sunghoon just flips him off.

"This-" she points between you and Sunghoon, "Must have happened in America, right?"

"Yeah, we just wanted to wait until you two got back," Sunghoon shrugs, "Speaking of which, congrats on bringing home two golds guys."

Your eyes widen in remembrance as you leap up to crush your best friend in a hug, "Oh my God, yeah! I'm so happy for you Chae. And you, Hee."

Chaehyun rubs your back and nuzzles herself into you, "I guess there's much to celebrate tonight. Do you guys wanna drink? I'm really happy for the two of you as well."

You pull back from Chaehyun and direct your sparkling eyes over to your boyfriend, "Yeah, me too."

Your eyes dart over to Heeseung as well, who was on a sudden mission to find any and all alcoholic beverages he had in the apartment. Sunghoon springs up from his position, already scolding his elder for the mess he was making in the cupboards trying to investigate. Chaehyun is beaming at you and you feel the sincerity in her expression. Having seen you at the lowest points in your life, it's a happy departure to where you are now.

She can feel you start to get emotional and reminiscent, so Chaehyun simply pulls you back into a warm embrace. The happiness you feel is so new, just like your relationship with Sunghoon, but you would never trade it for the whole world.

The road to this moment was rocky and it felt never-ending at times. There were so many moments you felt so lost on your place in the world, but as Sunghoon returns to you and pulls you into his body, your heartbeats syncing together slowly, you feel that your way back home was worth it. 

a/n: thank you millions for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, sneaking around, praise, oral (m! & f!receiving), temperature play, pool sex, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!brothersbsf!matt, innocent!reader, forbidden love

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 author's note: here are parts one and two, and there are more to come after this. 💖 enjoy!

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your protective older brother has always warned you to stay away from his best friend, matt sturniolo. after losing your virginity to matt, going against your brother's judgment, the two of you start sneaking around in plain sight.

young god part three

Your brother had been home from college for a few days now, and your parents had taken him into the city for a fancy lunch to celebrate graduating another year. You'd opted out because all you wanted was a nice, quiet, and relaxing day spent by the inground pool in your backyard.

You laid out a bright yellow towel beside the crystal blue body of water that you'd finally deemed warm enough to swim in. You kneeled by the poolside and in one hand, you held a creamsicle that was slowly being melted by the afternoon sun, and with the other, you delicately ran your fingers across the surface of the water.

The cold feeling of the liquid on your warm skin was rejuvenating and refreshing. You could smell the chlorine and freshly cut grass that drifted through the summer air. You laid on your side, propping yourself up with your elbow, enjoying the complementary combination of the slight, cool breeze and hot, sunny weather.

Behind you, the sound of the back gate slowly creaking open alerted you. You turned your head in the direction of the noise, and there stood Matt Sturniolo, your older brother's childhood best friend, your biggest crush as a little girl, and the man you'd given your virginity to just a few nights prior.

Your stomach fluttered, and your heart raced as the object of your affection made his way towards you, shirtless and in nothing but swim trunks.

"Hey, sweet thing. Is your brother home?" He asked you, watching the way you made your pink treat disappear behind your lips. You shook your head no. "He's out with my parents. I don't think they'll be home for another hour or so."

A sly smile peeked through Matt's expression as he realized what that meant. "Damn," he said, faking his disappointment and taking his beach towel that was thrown over his muscular shoulder and switching it to the opposite one. "Well, it looks like you and I had the same idea. Mind if I join you?"

"No, I don't mind at all," you responded, studying his slim build. "What kind of popsicle you got there?" He wondered, sitting next to you and watching the way you sucked on the cold dessert. "It's a strawberry creamsicle," you replied, blushing.

"You look so pretty with it in your mouth," he complimented you, and you responded with a timid giggle. His eyes grazed over your body, and how cute you looked in your black and white-striped bikini. "Look at you. You could be a swimsuit model," he flirted, running the tips of his fingers along the length of your thighs. You rolled your eyes and swooned.

"Have you put on your sunscreen yet, sweet thing?" He motioned towards the unopened bottle beside you. You shook your head. "Not yet. I have to wait til I'm done with this." You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe up your fruit-flavored treat.

Just then, some of the ice cream melted from your popsicle stick, landing on your chest, and you jumped at the cold feeling. "Let me help you with that," Matt cooed, and without missing a beat, he leaned in and licked it off the top of your breast that poked out of your bikini top with his blue eyes locked on yours. You softly hummed and squeezed your thighs together in response.

"Why don't I get your back for you, hmm? Gotta protect that pretty skin," Matt offered, picking up the suntan lotion. He applied a bit of the initially cold-feeling sunscreen to your shoulders, massaging it into your warm flesh.

He rubbed your back with his strong hands, exerting more pressure as you began to relax under his caress. He listened to the sounds you made while you sucked on your strawberry creamsicle, his cock stirring in his shorts.

After he had worked the lotion into the skin of your shoulders, he asked you to lay on your stomach, and he started to spread the lotion on the back of your calves and the back of your thighs while you propped yourself up onto your elbows.

He squirted a bit of suntan lotion onto your perfectly round ass, and started thoroughly massaging it into the fleshy part of your bottom. You grew wet under the touch of Matt's large hands.

He spent a suspicious amount of time squeezing it and groping it, smirking to himself. He even gave you a light swat on the ass, and you blushed and timidly laughed before he asked you to turn over again.

Matt intently watched you run your tongue along your sugary dessert while he slathered sunscreen onto your chest and your stomach. "Why do you like watching me lick ice cream so much?" You naively inquired. "Maybe I'll show you once you're all done with it," he teased you. You playfully glared at him for not letting you in on the secret.

Without warning, Matt's fingers slipped into your bikini top, and he started tweaking your nipples, causing them to harden at the sensation. You gasped. "Matt, what are you doing? I'm not gonna get any sunlight there!" You giggled as you peered up at him, lapping up your melting dessert.

"That's only if this top stays on the whole time we're out here," Matt raised an eyebrow at you and his lips curled into a flirtatious smile that indicated that he was up to no good. You let out a moan as he tenderly grabbed a handful of each supple breast.

Lust twinkled in his blue eyes as he started to jiggle them in his grasp, which made your cheeks rosey pink with embarrassment. "Don't be shy, sweetheart. They're so beautiful," Matt's voice was laced with sensuality.

He moved his hands down your stomach, your waist, and your hips. He slowly pushed your legs apart, and he started oiling up your thighs. A smug expression played in the corner of his mouth as he inched closer to your special place. "Matt! I'm definitely not going to be getting any sunlight there!" You lightheartedly giggled as he slipped his finger beneath the fabric of your swimsuit bottoms.

"Oh, I know, sweet thing, but you can never be too careful. Plus, I like the way you sound when I touch you right here," he said, tenderly rubbing your clit in circles. You immediately felt a faint whimper pass through your lips, and you stuck your creamsicle back into your mouth, sucking on it.

"That's it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me," Matt hummed, a smug smirk playfully crawling into his expression while he continued his movements. He started slowly taking off your bikini bottoms, and you lifted your hip points to help him remove them more easily.

You finished the rest of your ice cream, licking the stick clean and holding eye contact with Matt as he slipped your bottoms down your thighs and tossed them to the side. He reached behind your back and untied your swimsuit top and started removing the fabric from your body.

He spread open your legs once again, revealing your glistening folds and causing your shy nature to surface along with a flushed expression. There you were, tits out and pussy on display in your backyard while Matt ran his fingers along your slit, teasing you and making you even more wet.

You shivered as the summer breeze passed over your wet cunt, creating a delightful sensation. He took the tip of his pointer finger and started tapping rhythmically on your sensitive bud, causing you to jerk beneath his commanding touch. "Oh, Matt," you gasped.

"Good girl," he hummed in response as he leaned down and planted a kiss between your legs. Another moan escaped your pink lips as his tongue gently caressed your clit, circling it and teasing you. His blue eyes lingered on yours while he continued this motion with his licks, drawing closer to all your nerve endings.

When he was right on your most sensitive spot, he closed his lips down around it and started tenderly suckling. You threw your head back and let out a delighted noise while his tongue danced along your folds, lapping up your wetness.

"You know, I've got a popsicle for you to suck on," Matt glanced up at you with his charming smirk. You nodded at him wide-eyed with your lower lip pinned between your canine teeth.

"Why don't you hop in the pool, sweetheart?" Matt suggested, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You went to reach for your bathing bottoms, but Matt swatted your hand away. "Ah, ah, ah," he shook his head. "Your bathing suit stays off."

"But Matt, I'm naked," you giggled in a shy voice. "Good. I like you that way," he chuckled in response, reaching up and gently groping your breasts again. His touch was strong and demanding, but there was a softness to it and a tenderness in his tone as he spoke. His eyes danced across your exposed body as you inched towards the pool, and you let out a shrill sound as you slowly submerged yourself in the cold water.

Matt's swim shorts fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them, one foot at a time, and your gaze immediately fixated on the rod between his legs. You couldn't believe that something so big had been inside of you a few nights prior. His protruding tip was glossy with a clear fluid, and his veins decorated his shaft so beautifully.

You didn't mean to be rude, but you couldn't stop staring. Even as Matt sat at the edge of the pool, immersing only the bottom half of his legs, you couldn't pull your eyes off his pretty dick. He wrapped his fingers around it and started slowly stroking it in front of you.

"Come have a taste," he motioned for you to come here with his free hand. You nodded and made your way back over to the edge of the pool. Your stare flickered between his eyes and his aggravated tip. "Open up, sweet thing," he purred, guiding his cock towards your mouth and delicately grabbing onto the back of your head. You slightly parted your lips for him.

"You're gonna have to open a little wider for me," he cooed, chuckling at how cute you were. You obediently listened, parting them further. He burrowed his tip into your mouth, which was still cold from your dessert earlier, and he emitted a guttural moan at the way the temperature change elevated the sensation.

"That's it. Be a good girl and suck on it just like you did with your popsicle, hmm?" He encouraged you, giving you direction and showing you how he liked it. You hollowed out your cheeks and slowly bobbed your head up and down, lightly gagging as the head grazed the back of your throat.

Matt peered down at you with a loving, lustful stare. Your soft, cold tongue slithered up and down the backside of his length, caressing his veins and causing his dick to twitch against your lips every time you came back up and stimulated his tip.

"Eyes on me, baby," Matt whispered, petting your cheek with his thumb and grunting as you swirled your tongue around his nerve-endings. You couldn't get enough of the way Matt looked at you while you gave him head, almost as if the feeling of your mouth was saving his life.

He licked his lips and nodded at you with his eyes glazed over with pleasure as you continued to suck on it for him. "Good girl. Don't stop. You're gonna make me finish all over that pretty tongue of yours," Matt moaned, thoroughly examining the way you serviced him in the most intimate fashion.

His lovely words and the tone of voice he used when he spoke them made your stomach drop. He delighted in the image of you peering up at him with your innocent eyes and his dick buried behind your pink lips.

"That's it, sweet thing. Be a good girl and swallow it all for me," Matt encouraged you with his brows knitted together in an almost concerned expression. His blue eyes were filled with seduction and temptation, and he licked his lips again before letting out another sinful moan. His cock began to twitch between your lips, and he held you in place while he loaded your mouth with his thick, milky seed.

"Oh, yes. What a good girl you are," Matt gave you his most charming smile as the muscles in his stomach spasmed, painting your tongue with several spurts of his cum and nearly filling your mouth faster than you could gulp it down. It tasted bitter, but you did as you were told, making sure not to let a single drop go to waste.

"That was perfect," Matt whispered breathlessly as he caressed your face and ran his fingers through your hair. "That made me so wet between my legs," you admitted to Matt. "I guess you like sucking cock, hmm? You took such good care of it," He cooed, giving you his bedroom eyes. You nibbled on your lip and nodded up at him.

"Now, I gotta take care of my girl," he replied, dipping into the pool along with you, making a bit of a splash in the water. He reveled in the cold feeling against his warm flesh. He grabbed you by your waist and picked you up, and you squealed at the way he handled you.

He directed his still-hard rod towards your hole, sinking it in and listening to your whimper at the sensation of being stretched out again. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed it in deeper. You were still sore from having lost your virginity to him a few nights before, and your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock. You whined in pain.

"Sh, sh, sh. It's going to be alright. I'm gonna make my girl feel so good," Matt hushed you, looking into your eyes and brushing his thumb across your flushed cheek once more. He went in for the kiss, passionately locking lips with you while your naked bodies were pressed up against each other in the water.

He slowly thrust into you, causing you to moan into his mouth, your lips vibrating against his while he held you in his strong arms, bouncing you up and down on his rod. Matt's tongue politely begged for entrance as he deeply kissed you.

The water around the two of you rippled out at the movements you made. You started to relax as the sensation transformed to pure ecstacy in the matter of a few strokes. He listened as your stifled whines turned into cries of delight.

"Good girl. You take it so well," Matt grunted, speeding up the pace and moving his lips down to your chest. He tenderly took your tit into his mouth and started licking and teasing.

"Oh," you muttered, throwing your head back. He hummed against your breast while his tongue flickered over your sensitive nipple. He suckled on it just like he had with your clit earlier while he drove his hips forward, stimulating that special place deep in your core.

His mouth moved back up, and he started kissing up your neck, nipping and biting at it while pulling you close again. You softly whimpered in his ear while he explored your erogenous zones with his lips.

Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, your fingernails lightly digging into his back as you tightly gripped his waist with your legs. "That's it, sweet thing. Take it," he groaned, savoring the feeling of your warm, wet pussy squeezing around his hungry cock while your bodies moved in tandem, giving and accepting one another in a primal dance.

Your brother had always warned you about Matt's perverse nature and his way with words, the way he could lull any girl he wanted into his arms and into his sheets, but you saw a different side of him. You saw his desire to make you feel safe, the appreciation he felt towards your body, and the way he prioritized your pleasure.

You were both on the verge of greatness, nearing your shared orgasm while you chanted each other's names. Before you knew it, your body was going limp as you steadily clenched around Matt's throbbing dick. The two of you finished together, and he filled you with his seed once again.

You'd been waiting for that feeling again, dreaming about it, yearning for it. You loved how easy it was for Matt to get you off, and your climaxes were so much more intense with him than they were on your own. You couldn't get enough of him.

The two of you were staring into each other's eyes, and your legs were still wrapped around Matt's waist when you heard a car door shut. You and Matt scurried out of the water, throwing your bathing suits back on. Matt was helping you tie the strings of your top back together when your brother wandered through the gate.

"Matt? What are you doing here? I told you I was going out to lunch with my parents," your brother said, clenching his jaw and squeezing his hand together in a fist. "I know. Your sister invited me to swim with her," Matt said, glancing over at you, and you blushed.

"What were you doing when I walked through that gate, huh?" Your brother raised his voice a bit. "I was just helping her fix her top. It came undone in the pool," Matt lied. "Dude, you're sick. Stay away from my sister when I'm not home," your brother said, baring his teeth and flaring his nostrils.

"Dude. Chill. Her top came untied when we were splashing each other, and I covered my eyes until she put it back on. She just wanted me to double knot it for her. That's all," Matt said, holding his hands up in a defensive position, his heart beating out of his chest.

"He's telling the truth," you nodded, Matt's cum still slowly dripping out of your pussy and into your bikini bottoms. Your brother's eyes glanced between you and Matt before he relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I had a few beers with lunch. I just saw the two of you and assumed," your brother chuckled. The tension in the air was gone just like that.

"It's cool, dude. I get it. Come on. Let's go take some of that aggression out on those damn zombies," Matt laughed, playfully slugging your brother in the arm, and the two boys walked off together to go play video games.

Right before Matt disappeared from view, he looked back at you for a moment and winked, letting you know how much he was enjoying your little collective secret.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 part four here

taglist: @thepubeburgler @realqueenofpepsi @mattsredgaphoodie @purpledreamertyphoon @moosegirl96 @idrk2292 @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (hyung line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a little bit of angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: some are talking about sex, alcohol and being intoxicated (not the boys). i think that's all idk. anyways!! if you're under 16 pls don't read this.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: 2022 deni kinda ate with these ngl, so of course i had to rewrite it <3 these used to be my favorite hcs i ever wrote, so i truly hope you enjoy <3. happy channie day!! maknae line here!

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

With Christopher here, things are complicated because he avoids labeling what you guys have like the plague. His work always comes first so that makes him shy away from commitment.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He does, a lot, and that kind of scares him, especially when he randomly starts feeling possessive over you when he knows he has no right to.

No matter how much he tries to deny it, the feelings are there and he’s always reminded of them when he catches himself treating you so much different from the other girls in his life.

You were humming in your seat, head bopping from side to side to the rhythm of the tunes on the radio. A happy bubblegum pop song, one that didn’t fail to lift your already high spirits and put you into the right mood for the long trip ahead.

“You look happy.”

Your head snaps in his direction, a big smile stretching across your face as his melodious laugh fills your ears. Chan wasn’t looking at you, giving all of his attention to the road as he drove behind Minho’s car yet his words made you giddier, just happy to be here in his presence.

“I am!” You nod, still swaying in your seat. “Thank you for taking me along, I haven’t been to the beach in ages.”

Chan hums with a smile before reaching down and gently grabbing your hand, eyes still focused on the road as he raises it to his to plant multiple, gentle kisses on your skin.

“Of course, baby.” He says, giving a final kiss to your knuckles before resting your hands next to the gear stick. “I wouldn’t even have gone on this trip without you.”

The sweet gesture along with his words made your heart skip several beats, fooling your mind into believing he actually felt the same, the scene making you resemble an actual couple. Everybody was convinced you were already dating, since affection and those small touches came so naturally in your relationship, with no awkwardness or second guessing. You and Chan have fallen into this domestic routine where you do almost everything together despite not even being together. Yet, you loved being this close to him, glued at the hip and so enamored with one another but sometimes, you wished things were clearer, to actually know what you were and weren’t. How he viewed and felt about this relationship of yours.

“Something on your mind?”

Blinking your worries away, your heart swelled in your chest when you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a sign of the silent support and care he never shied away from providing.

Shaking your head, the smile on your face returns, albeit a bit forced. “I was just thinking about how much you must enjoy my company, that’s all.”

That got a laugh out of him, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to drive with one hand, honey orbs briefly meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

“Is that so? You really think that, huh?”

You nod, intertwining your fingers while keeping your eyes straight ahead, softly caressing his hand. “Of course. What kind of person would miss going on a long-awaited trip with his best friends just for lil’ old me?”

Then, you turn to face him, mustering enough courage to appear confident and charming with your next words.

“You must really like me, huh, Christopher?”

His hold on you tightened, almost as if he was afraid you were going to disappear if he let go. You saw him nod his head and when the car came to a stop at a red light soon after, he finally took his eyes off the road to face you fully. His gaze was soft as he watched you like you held the sun in your bare hands and for the first time, Chan hesitated for a brief moment before he leaned over the console to press his lips against yours.

The kiss was so unexpected that you gasped at the contact, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and deepen your dance, change it all together, except he didn’t. He didn’t take things further, hand still holding yours as your lips did all the talking, moving against you in such a soft and tender way it almost brought you to tears, never experiencing such meaningful intimacy with him before.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still serious but slightly blown by your previous actions. In any other circumstances, you’d say it was lust but right now it felt like something more, an emotion that only grew and blossomed the more time you spent together. Something appropriate for your deep connection, beyond carnal desires and sighs of ecstasy.  

“I really, really do like you, Y/n. Please never forget that.”

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

The jealousy is strong with this one. I mean, that’s to be expected when your relationship status is so vague and ambiguous that you guys never talk about it.

However, he’s the softest when he’s with you. It’s like all of his worries and anxieties disappear when you’re by his side.

Secretly a romantic.

“Who is she?”

Minho looks up from his place on the floor at the sound of your voice, one eyebrow rising as a sign for you to go on while he continues to stretch. When you don’t, he lets a small sigh escape him before taking matters into his own hands.

“Elaborate.”

“Who is she?” you try again, arms crossed over your chest while a frown forms across your features. “The girl that was just here. The one you were happily laughing along with.”

Oh, that girl. Minho tries to hide his smirk once he hears what you have to say, being able to sense your jealousy without even having to spare you another glance. Truth be told, he knew exactly who you were talking about from the moment you opened your mouth yet, the part of him that wanted to see you get all worked up took over and made him play dumb.

Quickly composing himself before you notice, he shrugs. “Just some girl.”

He could feel you getting annoyed by now, his nonchalance and dismissal almost making your blood boil. “Lee Minho – “

“Why do you care?”

His voice is lower, usual doe and gentle stare narrowing slightly as he looks you dead in the eyes. Abandoning his stretching, Minho then stands up and takes a stance similar to yours, towering over you. He was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, his scent and him as a whole not only invading all of your senses but also your personal space. Not that you minded, you never did or ever will.

Not backing down, you took a step forward as well, closing in on him while maintaining eye contact. Eye contact always made Minho weak in the knees so you never wasted any opportunity of making him a little hot under the collar. Just as expected, Minho’s body reacts almost immediately, big hands settling on your hips before pulling you flush against him. The intimacy and gentleness of the action have your initial anger vanishing, the only thing on your mind now being him and him alone.

Deciding to play along, your arms naturally gravitate around his shoulders. “Am I not allowed to care about the type of people you surround yourself with, darling?” You smile yet he sees right through you, your words filled with sarcasm and something else Minho can’t quite put his finger on. Despite your affection, this was still bothering you.

But Minho doesn’t comment on it. “Like I said, she isn’t anyone important. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about her.” He breaths out, wet lips hovering over yours as he speaks. And before you know it, he’s kissing you, lips coming together in a passionate kiss only Minho himself can provide.

But even as you stand there, pinned to the cold mirror while he gently nips and sucks at your neck, you can’t help but worry about it all. You weren’t his girlfriend so you were fully aware that you had no right to question him about who he was or wasn’t hanging out with. But the fact that he wasn’t willing to tell you, to reassure you like he always did made your heart ache in your chest most painfully.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Thinks he’s being oh so subtle about what you two have going on. Newsflash, all of the boys already know there’s more than meets the eye between you.

Very protective but not in an overbearing way.

Actually really likes you but isn’t sure if you feel the same so he doesn’t act on those feelings.

Changbin was watching you from afar, a smile playing on his lips at the sight of you animatedly talking to some classmates. You haven’t noticed him yet and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest waiting for you to do so, trying to play it cool as he leaned against his car with his arms crossed. He might’ve looked calm and composed on the outside but on the inside, he was freaking out.

You two haven’t seen each other in a bit because of his busy schedule and now that he’s got some free time, one of the first things on his bucket list was to surprise you by dropping by to your school. Changbin had a whole afternoon planned out just for the two of you, one that involved all of your favorite activities and food. A part of him was really confused by his own behavior, especially since you never had ‘the talk’ regarding your relationship but he just couldn’t help it. The urge to spoil and shower you with gifts and his undivided attention was stronger than his doubts were, as usual.

He never realized he was a romantic until he met you, and fell head over heels for your charming personality.

Breaking away from your group of friends, your eyes finally met his and immediately widened at the sight of him, just like his smile does. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree and next thing Changbin knew, you broke into a sprint in his direction, your obvious excitement making the man laugh loudly in delight. You looked so adorable running to him like that, he couldn’t wait to get you in his arms and never let go.

You were almost there when suddenly some dude decided to stop you right in your tracks, blocking your path to get your undivided attention. You were visibly taken aback as you came to an abrupt stop, your face falling as the person started talking. This made Changbin’s mood do a whole 180, wasting no time in starting to make his way over, keen on giving this dude a piece of his mind. Your smile returned as he approached, looking at him over the man’s shoulder as everything he was saying was completely lost on you, Changbin’s magnetic field pulling you in without fail.

“Sorry, uhh…” You paused, trying to recall his name before shaking your head. “My boyfriend is here so I really have to go.”

At the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, the guy turned around to face Changbin so fast, it had him wondering how he didn’t get whiplash. Looking at him, Binnie glared as he tried to look as intimating as possible while the butterflies in his stomach were currently causing a riot over you calling him ‘your boyfriend’. Which wasn’t a hard task since he already looked as intimating as they come because of his well-built body, his mere presence causing the other man to hunch slightly.

“Okay, I-I will call you later then, Y/n.”

Changbin raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms once again. “Me, Y/n's boyfriend, wouldn’t like that, so don’t you even dare.” He glared menacingly, almost like daring the guy to protest in some way. “Now, scram.”

That’s all the warnings the guy needed to flee, leaving without as much of a goodbye while Changbin followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Your sweet giggles reached his ears, melting those sharp edges before he felt you throw yourself into his arms, your own going around his neck to pull him even closer. And just like that, the butterflies were back and making him feel like a high schooler around his first ever crush. He returned the hug in an instant, strong arms wrapping around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around, the sound of your delight getting rid of all of his annoyance and stress, the best cure ever invented.

“Hello, boyfriend.” You placed several pecks on his lips when the world stopped spinning, lightly kicking your feet that were still off the ground. “I missed you.”

He wasn’t your boyfriend yet, but after today, maybe he could finally be. 

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The one that’s truly wrapped around your finger even if he would never admit it out loud. He’s bewitched, mesmerized by every little thing you do and say, his eyes full of adoration as he follows your every movement, almost like a puppy.

Randomly goes: “you can sit here” and here ends up being between his legs in a room full of 7 other men.

Can never take his eyes off of you.

Everyone’s laughter was bouncing off the walls as another dare was swung around, one that had someone pull out their phone and booty call a random number while trying but failing miserably to sound sober. Speaking off, everything seemed to be funny for your intoxicated friends at this hour. From knocking over each other’s drinks to randomly kissing, they were having the time of their lives and that brought the biggest smile to your lips.

“Hyunjin.” One of your girlfriends began, getting both yours and the man that was currently sitting behind you on the floor’s attention. She had a mischievous glint in her glassy eyes, one that had you a bit worried.

“What’s your type?” she finally asked before taking another sip of her drink, smirk growing bigger by the second as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, twirling a piece of her hair around a manicured finger. “Like I’m sure you don’t just fuck randos, they all have to fit some type of criteria, don’t they?”

“What gets Hwang Hyunjin hard?” Another one chimed in, scooting closer in interest.

And there it was. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as all the girls started giggling, clearly very amused and intrigued by the whole situation. Granted they were drunk but since you weren’t, it was a bit harder to hide your annoyance. You and Hyunjin weren’t a couple, heck you didn’t even know what you were but he was latched onto you from behind while you sat in between his legs, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Did they have to ask something like this while you were right here?

Soon, almost all of your friends seemed to be interested in his answer, especially since Hyunjin was known for his notorious reputation with both girls and boys around campus. You finally felt him react when Changbin, who was an even louder drunk, pointed out the look on your face and got everyone staring at you two. His arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your body even closer like he was trying to merge souls while his head came to rest on your shoulder in such a way that prevented the others from seeing his lips moving.

“What do you think, baby?” He whispered, hot breath making goosebumps appear all over your skin and awakening something in you. All his attention was on you now, ignoring everything and everyone around him like he wasn’t just asked a question. As expected, their interest wasn’t piqued for long since Hyunjin didn’t react nor answer, talking among themselves once again, with some hollering and wolf whistling when they noticed him gently moving your hair out of the way to start planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on the side of your throat.

Your breath picked up at that, one of your hands moving to rest over his and intertwining your fingers while his free one sneaked under your shirt to caress the bare skin.

With one last kiss on the back of your neck, Hyunjin spoke again, his next words making your head spin and almost whimper. “Should I start telling them about how sweet your voice sounds while moaning my name? To list all of those things you do that drive me insane daily or should I just let this be our little secret?”

[shjsnjkj]

DAD'S BEST FRIEND┊l.hs

kinktober day 21! - masterlist

warnings: smut, MDNI, unprotected sex, making out, nicknames, age gap

genre: smut

wc: 2,5k ✧.*

☆ heesung x reader ; Heeseung was your favorite person when you were a little girl, but after moving to a new country, you slowly started to forget him through the ages. Forget all his beautiful features, the memories you shared with him, and the song he sang to you the last night you saw him. Receiving little kisses and sleeping with him wasn't the same as you remembered either.

taglist: @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minniesverse @rikinatorr

When you were a little girl, your dad used to invite his best friend, Heeseung, over to your house every weekend, and you couldn’t have been happier. You loved him because he was always kind, and he brought you small yet sweetest gifts like chocolate, a plushie, flowers, hair clips, and other cutesy things. You ran into his arms, he picked you up and gave you a little peck on the cheek.

Heeseung adored you and treated you like his own little girl. That's why he surprised you with something nice on weekends, and you slowly started to feel like he was your family member.

In the summer you went on a holiday together to the sea. You built sand castles and played together in the sea. He stayed by your side all day, read you a goodnight story, and even slept with you after dinner when your parents went out to have a romantic dinner together. You felt never-ending joy throughout the whole week but little did you know, that this was the last time you would spend this much time together and be this close to him.

After the trip, your parents announced that you’ll be moving countries next month. Your little heart broke when you realized that you won’t see Heeseung anymore. You started crying.

“Dad I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to say goodbye to uncle Hee.” -You cried holding his legs.

“Darling, you will see Heeseung, you don’t have to say goodbye forever”

“That’s not true, please let me stay here with him ”

And you were so right. After you had to say goodbye for almost 10 years, you slowly started to forget the hurtful, empty feeling that Heeseung left in your heart as you grew up. Furthermore, you made a lot of friends at the new place which also made you forget about the feeling of missing him. Searching him through the internet or asking his number from your parents was nowhere in your mind either.

This summer you went to work in a cafe. Today was a usual day, you did all your tasks at your workplace until your dad called you up at the end of your shift saying that you’ll be going on a vacation 2 weeks later.

“Hello darling, just wanted to let you know that we’re going on a trip soon. So buy yourself something if you want. Tell me how much money you need and I’ll send it to you.” -then he hung up on you.

“Fine Dad, thank you for saying and listening to my answer as well.”

Right at that moment your phone started buzzing again.

“I forgot to mention that Heeseung will be joining us, he can finally take some weeks off of his company”

You froze at hearing Heeseung’s name. The last time you heard his name was the time when you said goodbye to him. It was around a decade ago. You remembered that moment so well. He gave small kisses on your head while you hugged him as tightly as you’ve never before. Oh gosh, just forget it for now. A-and what about his company? He probably has a wife and kids for now too. It won’t be the same as it used to be — you thought.

However, the real question was how should you act? How should you greet him? Or worse how will you talk to him?

“Are you ready sweetheart?” -Your mother asked.

“Nuhuh” -you muttered under your breath- “Yes I am” - you screamed from your room.

“Let me take this from your hand” -Your dad said, putting your suitcase in the car.

You put up your headphones on your head and sit inside the car. The ride was quite long but you were busy guessing what will happen when you saw Heeseung. Will he treat you like a baby or will he remember you? How will you react after seeing him with his wife and children? Will you be alone for the whole trip? You didn’t know the answers to your questions. Slowly you saw the airport sign which helped you come back to reality and realize that it’s time to face Heeseung.

You stepped out of the car, got your suitcase, put your headphones down onto your neck, and headed inside the building with your family.

In less than 5 minutes you heard your dad’s voice, greeting Heeseung.

“Heeseung, long time no see, it’s good to see you again.”

You stayed aback, and looked down, not ready to meet him. But as soon as your name was called you turned your head to the left and your gaze met with Heeseung’s immediately.

There was he, in black jeans with a white shirt, and black sunglasses at the top of his head letting you see his brown bambi eyes for the first time after a while.

“Y/n come here, say hi to your uncle.” -He said sweetly.

You froze. Despite being the next to greet him you couldn’t take a step further.

Heeseung saw your shocked reaction so he decided to come instead and quickly greeted you with a warm hug as always. But this time you didn’t jump into his arms.

“Hello sweetheart, did you miss me? I missed you so much, you know?” -You just stood there still not moving but then it felt right to hug him back slowly, your hands staying on his back. His perfume and warmth made goosebumps all over your skin so you decided to take a step back.

“Don’t mind Y/n she’s a bit quiet these days.” -your dad told Heeseung.

“Ah, I understand. She grew up, I’m no longer her favorite uncle Hee.” -He showed you a sad expression and turned his gaze back to your dad.

No longer your favorite? And what if he’s still your favorite? What if you still love him deep inside just as much as when you were little?

You felt a pang of guilt for your cold reaction. Despite the years apart, Heeseung's warmth hadn't changed. Later, you wanted to say something, to show him he still meant a lot to you, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you offered a small smile, hoping it conveyed what you couldn't express aloud before.

As you boarded the plane together, you couldn't help but steal glances at Heeseung. His presence stirred up a mix of nostalgia and newfound curiosity. He looked almost the same like he didn’t age at all but he was more handsome in your eyes. You didn’t remember him looking like this but your relationship won’t be the same again, right?

Your parents sat at the first class (of course), Heeseung sat at the business class and here you were on the economy part stuffed between a lot of people. You were ready for the trip, feeling excited. You decided on sleeping after the plane took off, entering dreamland. After an hour you woke up and went to the washroom. It was locked. You waited for a few seconds then Heeseung stepped out of the cabin.

“Oh, hey Y/n. Are you here in the business class too?”

“Uhm, n-no. I’m in the economy class.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I have an empty seat beside me. Come and sit with me, okay?” -He gave you a heart-warming smile and stroked your arm softly.

“Really? I mean, thank you Heeseung.” -his touch sent a shiver down your spine while you tried to get out a word from your mouth.

“Yeah, of course. By the way, there is no need to speak formally with me baby. Just call me Hee or anything you want as you did before.”

“Oh, okay ” -you blushed and looked down, couldn’t look into his eyes- “Then I’ll go and look for you when I’m done Hee” -the word Hee felt weird trailing off your lips but you tried to adjust to it.

After getting your stuff, you moved to the business class and searched for Heeseung. When you found him you sat down and made yourself comfortable. You thought about watching a movie to pass the time somehow until suddenly you switched your plans. You hesitated about this move but slowly reached Heeseung’s side and touched his arm. He immediately turned his gaze to you and gave you a soft smile.

“Do you want to talk for a few minutes? We talked a long time ago.” -you whispered.

“Of course Y/n! As long as you want.”

“First of all, sorry for behaving like that before. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. I was shocked because it was the first time I saw you after 10 years.A-and..” -you stopped when he held your hand.

“You don’t have to say sorry Y/n. I fully get you. How about we make more memories this time to fill the gap of the past years? -your hands still in his.

The first few days were amazing. Every morning you did your morning routine, dressed up in a bikini and a dress on top of that. Some days you let your hair fall down onto your shoulders and the other days you braided it. You packed your camera, and favorite book in your bag then you heard a few knocks on your door. It was Heeseung.

He went out with you every day to buy breakfast and eat it next to the sea. Those croissants were your favorite next to the cappuccino. You explored the village together while taking photos non-stop, and talking about everything you missed out from each other’s lives. After lunch, you bought some snacks and fruits to eat at the beach later. It made you feel nostalgic when you swam or jumped into the water together. Furthermore, sometimes you didn’t even realize when Heeseung took photos of you or accidentally you held hands.

Tonight, you went to a restaurant that had the perfect view to the coast and the village. You both admired how it was lit up by the moonshine and the pretty lights which made the night more beautiful.

“Do you remember when we were together like this years ago? Your parents had dinner, while we ate hamburgers with fries and a milkshake.” -he smiled brightly.

“I remember it too well…”

“Then we walked back together to the hotel and I slept with you after reading some goodnight stories and even played the guitar for you to sleep well.”

“Honestly, I can’t sleep well for years so I might ask you to sing something for me later.”

“Of course, princess but I have to ask you for something in return.”

“It depends on what would you ask.”

“Sleep with me.” -you choked on your drink.

“What?”

“Just like when you were younger. Nothing else just sleeping in the same bed. I miss that moment. That was the last vacation we spent together.”

You did what you've agreed on. Heeseung played the guitar for you while you entered dreamland.

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, you felt an arm around your waist. There was no need to check who’s arm was that because you knew Heeseung stayed with you for the night.

“Uncle Hee” -you tried to turn around and face him which wasn’t quite easy due to his strong grip.

“Hm?” -he slowly opened his eyes.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Go on baby”

“Do you think this is wrong what we’re doing?”

“What do you think Y/n? Do you feel like this is wrong?”

“Uhm I don’t know actually. This feels so right but..” -you looked down, thinking about how to say out your feelings.

"But? Baby, don’t think about anything right now just try to relax." -He gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheek. "As you do that, I’ll make sure you don’t overthink what feels wrong or right." -His voice lowered as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. Your heart raced as Heeseung's lips finally met yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was everything you had dreamed of and more, a perfect blend of the familiar comfort he had always provided and the new, exciting feelings blossoming between you. As you melted into the kiss, you knew that there was no way back.

His large hands started caressing your body while he kissed your plump lips passionately. From the new sensual sensation, you couldn’t hold back your moans which only made Heeseung want more from you.

Then, he moved to your neck peppering them with loads of wet kisses. Gently, he turned you to your back and pulled up your nightgown to reveal and let him kiss your soft bare skin. Goosebumps spread all over your skin from his touch and lips. “Heeseung” -you breathed out his name. He just reacted with a smirk and then came up to your beautiful face to give you one last kiss before pulling down your pantie.

“Aw baby, you’re so wet already. You’re so cute.” -He whispered and gave a small kiss to your pussy.

You tried to relax as much as possible but it wasn’t easy when Heeseung’s cock was buried deep inside your cunt and all you could think about is how he perfectly he stretched you out. Heeseung groaned at the feeling of how tight you were and squeezed around his length.

As he pounded into your sweet and sensitive pussy desperately, he reached your cervix making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Heeseung pulled you impossibly closer to his body by your waist and trusted you even deeper making you a moaning mess. You felt like you’d reach your orgasm anytime.

“Fuck, look at you right now princess, you’re taking me so well” -He said between his deep thrust.

“Heeseung, I-I’m gonna cum.” -You cried out, getting more closer and closer to it.

He grinned and slammed his hips into you harder and faster making clapping sounds of your skins smacking against each other.

“Cum for me sweetheart” -He said out of breath as he came at the same time as you right that moment. You clenched around his cock and he let his head fall back from satisfaction. His hot cum dripped down on your thighs which made you the happiest in that moment although you still trembled from the sensation. You were panting and mewing while Heeseung cleaned you up to pull you closer to him as fast as possible.

After that, he put the blanket on you, and gently pulled your fragile body into his arms. You kissed each other for a few more minutes until you started to feel sleepy and closed your eyes.

"Goodnight baby" -Heeseung whispered to your ear while looking at you finally drifting off to sleep.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

PAIRING: JACKSON!JOEL MILLER X FEMALE READER

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ MDNI) | WORD COUNT: 1.5k

SUMMARY | Nowadays, he’s got the look of a man who’s discovered safety after survival, more life in his face, more weight on his bones. His hair has grown out, curling around his neck and more prominent streaks of gray at his temples and in his beard. This thing between the two of you remains undefined, comes and goes like waves crashing on a shore, but you’ll take what you can get because you’ve never been good about avoiding temptation.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | One glimpse of Pedro as Joel in the new season has turned me into a woman possessed. Thank you @undrthelights and @janaispunk for giving this a read for me 💕

ways to help palestine

WARNINGS | explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, porn without plot, mild angst, able bodied reader, no physical reader descriptions or age mentioned, jackson era, mentions of joel's weight (in the context of looking healthier in jackson), emotionally constipated joel, dirty talk, praise, pet names, kitchen sex, oral sex - f receiving (while standing), unprotected p in v, limited aftercare. let me know if i’ve missed any!

A noise breaks through your dreams, a loud banging that startles you from sleep and leaves you blinking at the ceiling. Thoughts still fuzzy, you stumble down the stairs and through your kitchen to the back door that rattles in its frame with each pound of a fist against it. You glance at the neon red numbers of the stove clock and at this hour, there can only be one culprit.

“Joel, what the fuck,” you groan, opening the door. “It’s two in the morning, what is wrong with you?” He doesn’t answer, simply shoulders past you and into your house. “Oh, sure come on in, make yourself—“

Your sarcastic remark is abruptly cut off by his lips crashing against yours, mouth hot and hungry as he skips any semblance of pleasantry and dives straight into carnal desire. His teeth graze your lip, the sting soothed by his tongue before it tangles with yours. Your fingers curl into his jacket sleeves, hanging on for dear life as he backs you into a wall, the two of you hitting one with a dull thump that disturbs the picture frames.

He shoves a knee between your thighs and pins you to the plaster, every sense invaded by him as he continues to consume you. When his mouth leaves yours and begins to leave hot kisses like brands across your neck, you finally find your voice again.

“Joel, what—“

“Shut up,” he grunts. You’re taken aback by the command and you have half a mind to smack him across the head for it, but he’s got his teeth on your earlobe and he adds, “I just, I need this, okay? Please?”

The fight leaves you in one fell swoop because you’d do anything for Joel if he just asks nicely. You nod and he returns to his task of turning you into a puddle with a single minded determination. When you start to rock your hips against his denim clad thigh in a desperate bid for friction, you feel, rather than see, the grin on his face.

“Mm, just as needy for me, ain’t you?” He teases. You frown.

“Don’t push your luck, Miller,” you snap. He laughs, a deep rumble that reminds you of the thunderstorms in the spring. “I can still kick you out of my house.”

“You won’t.” Confident, cocky, a man who knows he has you in the palm of his ridiculously skilled hands. “If you’d been smart, you would have kicked me out the first time. Now I’m just like a stray dog, ain’t gettin’ rid of me now.”

The first time, when he showed up in Jackson with a chip on his shoulder and a frown on his face. His hair had been shorter, his frame a bit smaller, his eyes a lot more vacant. He walked you home one night from the Tipsy Bison and when he kissed you under the glow of your porch light, his mouth tasted like whiskey, not unlike it does tonight.

Nowadays, he’s got the look of a man who’s discovered safety after survival, more life in his face, more weight on his bones. His hair has grown out, curling around his neck and more prominent streaks of gray at his temples and in his beard. This thing between the two of you remains undefined, comes and goes like waves crashing on a shore, but you’ll take what you can get because you’ve never been good about avoiding temptation.

While your thoughts drifted to the past, Joel has dropped to his knees and is curling his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, dragging the fabric down your thighs.

“In the kitchen? Really?” You huff. “There’s a perfectly good bedroom upstairs.”

“Too far,” he says, tossing your underwear aside.

Despite your complaints, there is something undeniably sexy about having Joel kneeling before you, impatient enough that he’ll take you right where you stand. He shuffles closer, lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and lavishes your clit with broad swipes of his tongue.

Your head drops back as you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pulls out every trick in the book of your pleasure, alternating between fast circles and sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips. It’s not long before you’ve reached the precipice of your release, teetering on a razor thin edge before finally falling into oblivion with a gasp of his name. He groans against you as you come, waves of it rolling through you.

“So fuckin’ good,” he says as he pulls away. You look down at him with a half-lidded stare, his chin wet in the low light and his own gaze dark with lust. He stands, slowly, with a bit of a wince because of his bad knee that he tries to hide with a grin. “C’mere.”

You let him pull you away from the wall and into his arms where he kisses you, his lips and tongue drenched in your taste. He walks you back to your little kitchen table, kicking a chair out of the way so that he can turn you to face it, a palm between your shoulder blades urging you down until you’re bent over the wooden surface.

The clink of his belt buckle falling to the linoleum makes your muscles clench in anticipation. Joel’s palm smooths down your back, almost reverently, before reaching your ass and giving it a rough squeeze.

“You’re killin’ me, you know that?” He asks. You turn your head, glancing at him over your shoulder.

“Me? I’m not doing anything, I’m waiting for you to quit teasing.”

“That’s just it,” he says, sliding the head of his cock through your messy pussy before notching himself at your entrance. “You ain’t gotta do anythin’ except exist and you’ll drive me crazy.”

Any response you had dies a swift death as he presses inside of you, filling you in the most tortuous way. The ache of the stretch quickly fades as he bottoms out with a deep groan, his hands gripping your waist tight enough that you know you’ll feel the phantom sting of bruises in the morning. He sets a rough, demanding pace, the sound of skin against skin cacophonous in your little kitchen. You can’t hold back the noises of pleasure he wrings from you as he slams in deep with each thrust and pulls out so far that you’re practically empty before doing it over and over again.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous like this, so tight,” he grunts. You arch your back the slightest bit, changing the angle so that each drive of his cock drags against that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars and whimpering his name. “God, that’s it, sweetheart. Take it so pretty.”

“Joel,” you moan. “Please, please, please.”

“Beggin’ to come again?” He asks. “So greedy, ain’t that right?”

“Yes,” you sob. “Need to come, please, Joel!”

“I gotcha, baby.” His hand slips between your thighs and his fingers pinch your sensitive clit. “Come on, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”

It’s an empty threat, but one that works. Your muscles go tight with your second orgasm, your cunt pulsing around him as his thrusts grow erratic, uncoordinated as he chases his own high. He pulls out just seconds before making good on his word, painting your skin with warm release.

As you catch your breath, his warmth leaves your side. You vaguely register the sound of running water before a cold rag is wiping away the mess on your ass and cleaning up the slick between your thighs, the rough fabric over your sensitive flesh making you jump. Joel shushes you, another pass of his soothing palm down your back as he finishes wiping you clean.

You stand up straight on shaky legs and collapse in the chair that he’d kicked from the table to make room for your bodies. He’s already pulled his pants back up, the only evidence of your tryst in the sheen of sweat on his brow and his hair in disarray. His jaw grows tense as you watch him and he shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot in the awkward aftermath.

“Thanks,” he says. “Needed that.”

“So you said,” you reply. “Did something happen?”

“Just some bullshit with Tommy.”

“Brother bullshit or town bullshit?”

“Bit of both.”

“Oh.”

He nods, glancing at the door. “I should get goin’.”

“Right.”

Joel doesn’t move for the door, though. No, he steps in close, taking your face in his warm hands and kissing you softly, gently, a wild juxtaposition to his earlier attentions. When he pulls away, you can’t help but reach up and smooth a thumb between his eyebrows, trying smooth the line of concern there.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whisper. You’ve said it before. You’ll say it again. You’ll keep saying it, until the ship that passes you in the night returns to your harbor.

“I do,” he replies, stepping back. You give him a tired smile.

Tonight isn’t that night.

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Joel Miller masterlist | All character masterlists