summary . . . how they react when you cup their cheeks/hold their face while they're working.
❪ 氷と火 ❫ fluff headcanons onf x reader 504 cw ノ flustered onf <3, kissing, not proofread 〃 ♡ ⸝⸝⸝ im buzzing w excitement for potential onf writing era everyone say thank you @loserlvrss for truly enabling my passion for them </3 / 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
KIM HYOJIN ﾐ 김효진
lets out a soft "hm?" at first, questioning the sudden touch
but when you bring your other hand to cup both his cheeks, he gets the idea you just wanted some affection
smiles, staring back at you with starry eyes
lets you have your way, smoothing over his skin and beauty marks without protesting or getting shy
he won't say it out loud, but he thinks it's adorable the way you love to admire him
and he would do the same to you
LEE CHANGYUN ﾐ 이창윤
is immediately taken aback and extremely flustered
because a few seconds ago you were a safe distance away, but now you're mere inches from his face, cupping his cheeks and staring
his first instinct is to try to hide—closing his eyes, looking away, or trying to take a step back
but he fails on all accounts
you think he's adorable, he's embarrassed in front of your stare, and it will end with your giggles and his stuttered pleas and protests
LEE SEUNGJUN ﾐ 이승준
nearly squeaks in surprise when your hand touches his cheek because he was so focused he didn't notice when you got so close
but can't stop a big smile from growing on his face—he loves your touch so much
will probably try to play it off or tease you: "what're you doing?" or "so suddenly?"
it's mostly just to stop himself from becoming a blushy giggly mess
cause he loves when you initiate any type of skinship and he's a bit too down bad
SHIM JAEYOUNG ﾐ 심재영
your touch is always welcome, so the second your palm cups his cheek, he's relaxing into that touch
hums in content and nuzzles closer, even if he was doing an important task—work can wait for now
will bring your other hand up to cup his other cheek, bringing his face down closer to yours
talks in soft deep murmurs, asking if you need something or just wanted his attention
won't be satisfied with you pulling away until you give him a kiss
PARK MINKYUN ﾐ 박민균
takes a few seconds for the touch to fully pull his attention away from work
he'll glance at you first, assessing your face first before leaning closer
immediately goes for the kiss whether or not that's what you were fishing for
lips curving into a smile when he breaks it, letting your fingers dip to the divets where his dimples form
he'll be the first one to bring attention back to work (workaholic), although he'll still be smiling minutes after
MIZUGUCHI YUTO ﾐ 水口裕斗
doesn't expect you to hold his face when you come up to him cause he's still a little sweaty from dance practice
protesting while trying to pull away, but when he sees that you could care less about the sweat he lets you caress his cheek
eyes softening and all his muscles relaxing just from the simple touch
will close his eyes to enjoy it fully and if you try to pull away before he's ready, all you'll hear is whines that he's not ready yet
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Rough sex, Power dynamics, Slight degradation, Praise kink, strength kink, Overstimulation, Manhandling, Desperation, Begging, Possessiveness, minor impact play, Controlling behavior, Mutual obsession
Hyojin
Hyojin fucking loves when you ride him — probably a little too much. He’ll lie back at first, hands lazily resting on your thighs, just watching you bounce on his cock with that soft, worshipful look that makes your whole body burn. Every shaky breath you take, every whimper you let out, he’s drinking it in, moaning low and whispering filthy little encouragements like he’s trying to get you even wetter for him. He’ll let you set the pace, let you think you’re in charge — until you’re getting close. That’s when he snaps. His fingers dig hard into your hips, grip bruising, and he starts thrusting up into you with rough, desperate movements, like he can’t fucking stand not being the one wrecking you. His soft moans turn into ragged, broken groans, hips slamming up until you’re crying out, clenching around him. He wants you on top — but only so he can watch you fall apart first, before flipping it all in his favor and fucking you until you’re begging him to stop.
Changyun
Changyun doesn’t actually like being ridden — but he’ll let you try like he’s humoring you, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips as you climb onto him, totally unaware of how fast he’s about to ruin you. The second you start moving, his hands clamp down on your thighs, holding you exactly where he wants you. He controls everything — the pace, the depth, the way your body bounces helplessly on his cock. He drags you down slow and deep, filthy, brain-melting thrusts that make your legs tremble and your nails dig into his skin. His breaths are sharp, rough curses slipping from his mouth when you clench around him — but if you even think about speeding up or taking more without permission, he’s yanking you down hard, muttering something dirty against your skin just to make you whimper and fall apart even faster. With Changyun, you’re nothing but a pretty toy in his hands — used, wrecked, and made to take everything he gives whether you’re ready for it or not.
Seungjun
Seungjun loves when you ride him — loves seeing you all pretty and desperate on top of him, clinging to his shoulders like you can’t handle how good he feels. But don’t think for a second he’s giving up control. His hands stay steady on your hips, guiding your rhythm with subtle strength, making sure every slow grind, every shaky bounce is exactly what he wants. His voice is like velvet, full of soft groans and gasps that hit a little higher when you hit just the right angle, sweeter than you ever expect from someone so big. He praises you through it, murmuring in that low, wrecked tone, “That’s it, baby… just like that… fuck, you’re so good for me.” Every time you move, you can feel how much he’s savoring it, how he’s still steering the whole thing from underneath, letting you think you’re in control when really, he’s the one making you fall apart one perfectly timed thrust at a time.
Wyatt
Wyatt hates being ridden — not because he doesn’t want you on top, but because the second you’re straddling him, he refuses to give up even an ounce of control. His hands lock on your hips the moment you sink down on his cock, holding you there, using you to fuck himself deep inside with ruthless, punishing thrusts that make you claw at his chest for balance. You’re gasping, legs shaking, trying to ride him the way you want, but it’s hopeless — he’s not giving you the chance. His grunts are deep and sharp, his voice a rough growl against your skin when he rasps, “Take it. Take all of it.” Every time you try to lift yourself off or slow down, he just slams you back down harder, like he’s determined to break you open on him until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but sob his name. Wyatt doesn’t give a fuck who’s technically on top — once you’re there, you’re just his to wreck however he damn well pleases.
Minkyun
Minkyun needs you riding him — needs it like he’s starving for you. From the second you settle on top, he’s falling apart, hands trembling as they roam your body, pulling you down closer like he can’t stand even an inch of space between you. His moans come quick and high, little gasps and desperate whimpers spilling from his lips every time you grind down against him. His body’s hot and tense under yours, his hips twitching up instinctively even when he’s too wrecked to keep a real rhythm. Sometimes he’ll mumble your name, soft and broken like a prayer, his eyes wide and glassy, begging you without even meaning to. The more you tease him, the worse it gets — until he’s shuddering under you, gripping at you like you’re the only thing keeping him together. Minkyun doesn’t want to control a damn thing — he just wants to be ruined by you, over and over, until he can’t even remember his own name.
U
Yuto loves when you ride him — but he’s not about sitting back and letting you do whatever you want. The second you straddle him, he’s pulling you flush against him, chest-to-chest, one hand at your waist and the other cradling the back of your head so you can’t pull away. His cock fills you so perfectly it almost hurts, and he’s thrusting up into you in slow, filthy rolls of his hips, groaning rough against your ear. Every move is deliberate, deep, like he’s trying to fuck himself into your soul, not just your body. His voice is desperate but low, whispering brokenly, “Stay close. Fuck, stay with me, baby…” every time he feels you clench tighter around him. His pace matches yours perfectly, building slow and dirty, stretching out the pleasure until you’re shaking in his arms. Yuto doesn’t want to see you ride him — he wants to feel you, own you, bury himself so deep you’ll never forget the way he made you fall apart for him.
word count: ~ 700
warnings: none
a/n: wow hi i haven’t really written anything in ages but felt like trying to put together something light and this ended up as the result.
It’s too breezy still for the short sleeves you have on, but Changyoon takes it as a sign of optimism on your part. The winter had been too long; too cold and dry, the trees bare and hills beige with a lack of snow. It feels like you had hidden away with the sun. (Maybe Changyoon found that thought easier, in a way. It was nicer to picture you tucked away behind clouds instead of closed in somewhere on your own. He wishes he had messaged you more often in those gray days.)
The sun had peeled back its covers, let green begin to color lawns and treetops once again. And Changyoon is with you again. The park is littered with small clusters and couples, all out to take advantage of the change in weather. Plans to find a bench or a sunny patch of grass had wordlessly been tossed aside. It isn’t clear whether you’re leading the way or he is. The two of you simply walk side by side, one hand each busy with a takeaway cup from a new café Changyoon heard good reviews of. He’s glad for it. It keeps him from following the impulse to reach out and take your hand in his.
Conversation comes and goes easily between the two of you. When silence falls, it feels welcome. A moment for yourselves, or else a moment for the rest of the world. It’s good - you remark - just to see things and people; to take in the feeling of everything being alive again.
Changyoon thinks you’re right, and says as much.
You look at him. He does the same. For the first time all afternoon, the lack of words feels awkward. You break it with a laugh, and he follows in suit despite not knowing entirely what was funny.
“Come on,” you say. “Maybe we’ll find a place to sit down off the path.”
Sure enough, a few moments later the two of you have settled into your own section of grass. Your cups sit at your sides, with condensation dripping down their sides and dripping onto the green blades. He recounts another story from your accidental time apart; incidents with his housemates that he would have updated you on sooner if the cold weather hadn’t reflected in your relationship, too.
When the next quiet comes upon you when you lean back in the grass and tilt your face up into the sunlight, eyes closed. Changyoon catches himself admiring the slight goosebumps on your arms and the way your eyelashes curl up just a bit as you squint under the light. Your lips curve upwards as your remark on how nice the sunshine is.
Changyoon wants to tell you how glad he is that you’re here with him. That the two of you could do so long apart and come back together without having your friendship changing.
You shift your weight to one side and lift one arm to shield your eyes before opening them to look at him. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but somehow every year it manages to surprise me how much better I feel once spring comes around.”
As you speak, he realizes - oh no. He’s wrong. Something might have changed. He watches the way your lips form the words closer than he did before. He’d like to take a photo of you right now. Not because your outfit is particularly well put together or the setting particularly photo-worthy. Just because of the comfort on your face and the way your eyes settle on his.
He swallows and feels he’s quite likely to say something stupid.
“I guess that’s why spring is associated with new starts,” you fill in as he remains quiet.
“You think so?”
“What you do mean think so?” you ask. You laugh between the words, and Changyoon finds himself smiling at the sound. “It’s an established theme!”
“Well, I wasn’t saying it isn’t. I meant-” He stops himself, unsure where exactly he meant to take it. His mind, he thinks, might be on an entirely different page than yours.
“Meant what?”
The curiosity in your gaze makes him reconsider.
There might be new starts for you two yet.
“You can’t even see: you’re three steps from loving me.”
Hyojin loves kissing your forehead. It’s the kind of thing he does instinctively, like breathing, like reaching for your hand when you’re walking side by side or tucking your hair behind your ear mid-conversation. It’s always soft, always warm, like he’s passing a quiet promise from his lips straight into your skin. And it stays with you—the way he pulls back just enough to look at you after, like you’re the most important thing in the room. Sometimes, though, when you’re sitting close and the mood shifts just slightly—when his thumb starts brushing your thigh in slow, absent-minded circles—his kisses start to wander. Downward. From your forehead to your cheek, to the soft curve of your jaw, and eventually the side of your neck, where he pauses, breath warm and lips just barely grazing your skin. But then he does it again, slower this time, mouth open against your neck as his hand slides a little higher up your thigh. You feel the change in him—how his grip tightens, how he presses closer, how his next kiss turns into something deeper, wetter, like he’s thinking about what else he could do with his mouth. And when he whispers your name, low and close to your ear, it doesn’t sound like a question. It sounds like a warning.
E-Tion
Changyun loves the way your face scrunches when he kisses your nose, how your expression shifts from surprised to flustered in a heartbeat. He does it constantly—when you’re half-asleep, when you’re pretending to ignore him, when you’re trying to be serious and he just wants to see you smile. He’ll pull you close by the waist, press his lips to the tip of your nose with a smug little grin, then tilt his head like he’s proud of himself. But sometimes he doesn’t pull away. Sometimes that kiss stays a little longer, softer, until it stops being playful and starts to feel like something else. His mouth grazes down to the corner of yours, lingers there for a second, and when you turn to meet him fully, he kisses you like he’s been waiting for it all day—slow, open, tongue slipping past your lips like he owns the moment. One hand grips your waist, the other moves lower, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers teasing just above your waistband as his teeth catch your bottom lip. And then he leans in again, hot breath brushing your ear as he murmurs something low and filthy, the kind of thing that makes your thighs press together without thinking. He laughs softly, like he knows, like he planned it—and with the way he’s looking at you, you’re not entirely sure he didn’t.
Seungjun
There’s something old-school sweet about the way Seungjun kisses your cheek, like he was made to love softly. He does it when you’re tucked under his arm, laughing into his chest, or when he passes behind you and pauses just long enough to lean in and press his lips to the side of your face. It’s never rushed, never careless—he kisses you there like it matters, like you might forget how much he adores you if he doesn’t. But when the air shifts and he’s no longer teasing, when his fingers slip beneath your chin and tilt your head just so, that same mouth trails from your cheekbone to the edge of your jaw and lower, lower still. He pushes your shirt aside and kisses the space just above your collarbone—open-mouthed and slow—until your head tilts back instinctively, like your body knows what’s coming. His tongue flicks against your skin, followed by the scrape of his teeth, and then he sucks just hard enough to make you gasp. His grip tightens at your waist, thumb digging into your hip as his other hand traces down your side, deliberate and slow, dragging heat across every inch it touches. And when you whisper his name, breath catching, he only smirks—mouth still at your neck—and says, “You like that?” like he doesn’t already know.
Wyatt
Jaeyoung does it like it’s second nature—reaching for your fingers mid-conversation, lifting your hand to his lips as if the thought just occurred to him. He kisses you there with a quiet sort of reverence, like your skin is something sacred and he’s the only one allowed to worship it. It’s gentle, effortless, and always makes you melt, especially when he holds your gaze the whole time, thumb brushing circles into your palm. But sometimes that soft touch turns heavy, like something’s shifted behind his eyes. He doesn’t just kiss your hand—he brings it to his mouth again, but slower this time, letting his lips part just enough for the heat of his breath to graze your knuckles. His tongue flicks out once, dragging against your fingertip, and then he kisses it fully, wet and warm, with his eyes never leaving yours. The tension snaps like a wire pulled too tight when he pulls your hand to his jaw and guides it down the front of his chest, his own fingers sliding up your thigh at the same time. “What are you gonna do with me now, baby?” he murmurs, voice low and rough, like he already knows the answer—but he wants to hear you say it.
Minkyun
Minkyun’s kisses to your temple feel like instinct—quiet, grounding touches that slip in when you least expect them. When you’re leaning against him, when your eyes flutter closed from exhaustion, when the room is full of noise and he wants to remind you that he’s right there. He brushes your hair back gently and leans in, lips barely brushing your skin, but it’s always enough to slow your breathing. There’s something intimate about it, something deeply affectionate, like he’s pouring all his comfort into one silent kiss. But Minkyun’s affection has layers, and sometimes that soft reverence sharpens into something much darker. Like when he kisses your temple and lingers too long, fingers slipping into your hair to keep you right there as his mouth trails down to your jaw, then your neck, then lower. You barely have time to breathe before he’s kissing you hard, lips parted, tongue pressing past yours like he’s trying to taste every sound you haven’t made yet. One hand is at your waist, the other under your thigh, gripping tight enough to leave no doubt. And when he pulls back, just far enough to speak but not enough to break the tension, he mutters against your lips, “I could make you forget everything but me.” And the worst part? He’s right.
U
Yuto’s affection is quiet, but it runs deep, and you feel it most when his lips find your shoulder—just below the curve of your neck, right where the fabric slips. He does it absentmindedly sometimes, when he’s curled up behind you, half asleep, his arm around your waist and his mouth brushing soft kisses into your skin like he’s breathing you in. It’s subtle, sweet, like he’s speaking to you without saying a word. But sometimes it shifts—slowly, deliberately—like when his fingers slip your shirt down further, baring more skin, and his lips return with more purpose. He kisses you there again, deeper, mouth open, tongue flicking against the dip between your collarbone and shoulder before he sucks gently—then not so gently. His breath is warm and low against your skin as his hand slips between your thighs, not rushing, just exploring, teasing. And when you whimper his name, barely above a whisper, he lets out the softest laugh, kisses your shoulder one last time, and murmurs, “That’s it, baby… just stay right here for me.”
genre. fluff. skater au. meetcute kinda?
warnings. kissing. reader falls off their skateboard once. i know nothing about skateboarding but i tried to do some research for this lmfao.
pairing. changyun x reader.
wc. 1.5k.
a/n. guys im officially whipped asf for etion its not even funny anymore
Unlike most of your friends, you liked getting up early. Not just waking up early only to go back to sleep, but doing things in the early hours of the morning.
You liked the cool chill of the morning air and the fresh crisp dewy smell of the wet grass. You liked the walk you took to the skatepark when the sky was still a dusky blue and the sun hadn’t even fully awoken yet.
But, most of all, you liked the welcome solitude of the skatepark in the early morning. You had been skeptical of skateboarding as a hobby when you were little. It looked boring and dangerous and even lame to you 12 year old brain.
Your older brother had loved it, though, and in an attempt to spend more time with him, you picked it up too. Turns out, skateboarding wasn’t as lame as you thought. The adrenaline rush you felt as the breeze blew through your hair and you felt like you were going a mile a minute was addicting. The satisfaction of cleanly landing a hard trick was like no other.
What had first been an attempt at finding an activity to do with your brother quickly turned into 15 long years of skating. And now, you still kept it as a side hobby to relax before a long work day.
It was one of those mornings where you felt like nothing could possibly go wrong. It was the perfect temperature— chilly, but comfortable with a hoodie on— and the light rain the day before left the outside world fresh and clean.
You got up at 5 AM and were already on your way to the skatepark at 5:20. You wore jeans and a simple hoodie to keep warm and comfortable, hair tied up so it wouldn’t get in your face. You had been working on a trick called the laser flip for a couple weeks now. It was technically challenging, and it had been nothing but failures so far. But you still worked on it, determined to master it eventually.
Nothing could possibly interrupt the idyllic morning. You were already planning it in your head. You would arrive at the skatepark and skate for an hour and blissful seclusion, then stop by a coffee shop on your way to work. You felt as if you could even handle your boss’s yelling today and not even flinch. You felt amazing.
Well, until the first part of your plan fell apart.
As the skatepark came into your view, it was immediately clear that there was already someone skating there. Really? At 5:30 in the morning!?
You sighed heavily at the sight and debated turning back around to go home. You hated conversing with other skaters or even sharing the space. You didn’t like to have to be cautious of other people using the same space. More often than not, it ended in ruined tricks and frustration.
Not to mention that most of the skaters you had encountered in your town were smoking and high all the time. It was just better if you didn’t mix with that crowd.
But you really wanted to be able to skate this morning, so you trudged along the path, setting your skateboard down when you were almost to the park and skating the rest of the way.
At first, you tried to ignore the other person there. You didn’t pay any attention to him or his rather impressive ollie 540, which he landed cleaner than you had ever seen. Okay, maybe you paid a little attention to him. You shook your head and focused back on your own skating, though. Just because he’s a good skater doesn’t mean that you wanted to converse with him.
You attempted your laser flip again, positioning your feet in the right place and executing a frontside shuvit and a heel-flip to lift yourself up in the air. You almost landed it, really. It was so close to being a perfect land.
But instead, that stupid guy from across the skatepark had made eye contact with you at just that moment, flashing a pretty smile at you, causing you to lose focus and trip over the board on your way down.
The guy halted abruptly when he saw you fall and hurried over. He knelt down to make sure you weren’t hurt anywhere and held out his hand for you to grab to help stand up.
You had always been petty and in the moment you felt like it was entirely his fault that you hadn’t landed the laser flip. You brushed his hand away and stood up on your own, brushing off your hands and jeans.
“That’s a shame. Your technique was pretty solid. You could’ve landed it smoothly.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Up close, you could see every detail of his face. His high cheekbones and pointy chin. His smooth skin and piercing dark eyes. He must’ve caught you taking a glance at him because his lips curved upwards into a sweet smile. You could see how perfectly his smile lines appeared on his face and how his lips didn’t quite meet all the way when spread into the heart-fluttering gesture.
“I would’ve landed it if I hadn’t gotten distracted.” You muttered, feeling your ego bruise at embarrassing yourself in front of him, clearly the better skater of the two of you.
He let out an amusement scoff, and got back on his board, calling out a clear, “Try it again!” as he skated a bit away.
You sighed when you realized that he had stopped once he got to the other end and was now sitting on his board, staring intently at you, waiting for you to make the move.
Your plan had originally been to go home after that embarrassing fall, but now that the handsome guy was waiting for you to try to laser flip again, you felt like you had no choice. You took a breath and got back on your board.
You felt nervous that someone was watching you. You had barely even taken skating lessons in your years of skating, learning mostly with your brother, through trial and error, and with YouTube. It certainly didn’t help that the person watching you was someone you found extremely attractive.
But as you bent your knees, and caught his smile from the corner of your eyes, you felt a surge of confidence. You jumped, feeling the adrenaline rush in the pit of your stomach, your skateboard flipped in the air, and you landed cleanly.
You beamed and your eyes immediately went in search of him. He was smiling too, his pearly teeth out on display and his eyes shining with an unmistakable message. He was proud of you. You skated over to him and sat down next to him.
“I’ve been struggling with that for weeks. I didn’t expect to suddenly get it today.” You said with a laugh.
“I guess I’m a good luck charm, then.” He said smoothly, “I’m Changyun by the way.”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n… Can I treat you to coffee?”
//
“When you tripped, I couldn’t help myself! You almost fell on your face!” You giggled.
Changyun looked offended, “So you would’ve just stood there and laughed at me even if I fell flat on my face?”
“It’s only ‘cause I adore you.” You said quickly, attempting to save yourself from the trap you had put yourself in. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, staring into his eyes until the hurt look in his eyes faded into love.
“Next time you fall off your board, I have the right to laugh, though.” He said quickly. Clearly there was still an ounce of hurt left in him, but you knew how to get rid of it.
“Okay, baby. Sure. Laugh all you want.” You moved one of your hands from his cheek to his shoulder, leaning in until your lips met his soft ones.
Changyun loved to kiss you and he easily melted into it, his lips moving against yours gently. His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and once you broke the kiss to catch your breath, he continued a trail of kissing by your lips and up your cheek until you were giggling from the ticklish feeling and pulling away. You rested your forehead against his, your heart racing in sync with his.
“I think your skateboard ran away from you.” You whispered, eyes glancing behind your boyfriend to where his black skateboard was, indeed, slowly rolling away.
Changyun smiled, on the verge of a laugh, “It always ruins the moment.” He gave one more short kiss to your lips before breaking the close embrace and jogging off to stop his board.
title: taste
word count: ~ 900
warnings: none
a/n: this is only acceptable soundtrack for reading this !! i don’t make the rules
one word prompt flash fics; still accepting !
Changyoon thinks this is what the brink of insanity must feel like.
It’s absolutely absurd. You are his friends. Friends do not stare at friends as they pose for photos on pool floats. At least, he thinks they don’t. He’s pretty sue, at least, that they don’t stare the way he’s staring right now. He doesn’t know exactly what it is that’s changed. Maybe -- probably nothing. It’s not like it’s the first time Changyoon has seen you in a swimsuit. It must be at least the millionth time he’s seen you laugh and smile. Yet Changyoon still feels like he can’t possibly look away from you and your antics, like he might regret a single moment he missed out on drinking you in.
From the edge of the pool, Yuto shouts for you to change poses. The attempt to shift on the inflatable chaise goes wrong - with a scream and a splash, you’re suddenly dunked under the water for half a second before emerging with a sputter and a laugh, eyes wiping chlorinated water away from your eyes. You squint your way through a few poses while treading water before shouting a thanks to Yuto and swimming over to the edge to pull yourself out.
Yuto dutifully shows you the photos he’s taken, and you alternate between laughing and insisting he send one to you, shading your eyes from the sun with one hand as you do. You thank him with a quick, one-armed young -- and as the worst symptom yet, Changyoon feels jealous.
Madness. To be jealous over a simple show a gratitude towards a friend you both have. Changyoon thinks he ought to force his focus away from you. Find someone to talk to. Find something else to think about.
The trouble is that you’re walking right his way. Water droplets still on your skin catch the sunlight and add a glimmer that Changyoon figures might be some kind of hallucination brought on by his newly found fixation on you.
“Did you see what happened to me out there?” you ask him as you come up to the lounge chair he’s in. As if he could have been looking anywhere else. “Yuto actually got a shot of me falling in.” You laugh and grab a towel from the side table to pat at your face and torso. “What’re you doing on the sidelines, anyway? How am I supposed to get a good picture without you in it?”
Changyoon does his very best not to mistake your usual playfulness for flirtation. He shifts on the chair, pulling his legs off to the side to wordlessly making room for you to sit on the end of the chair. “And risk messing up my hair?” he jokes. You pull a face at him as you plop down at the foot of the lounge seat, the towel gathered in your lap. “Besides, you falling into the water will be a great profile picture.”
“Oh, ha.” You shake your head at him, but crack a smile all the same. “Either way, you know what I think we both deserve?” Changyoon prompts you to carry on with a quirk of his brow. “Ice cream,” you suggest, and reach out a hand for his forearm. “Are you in or are you breaking my heart?”
He breaks into a laugh, simultaneously caught off guard and endeared by your dramatics. Your touch is cool against his skin. A flutter starts there and draws a straight path to just between his ribs. “I’m in, I’m in,” he agrees. The notion of a world where he denies you feels impossible today.
You hop up with a grin and head back into the house with him, leading the way with ease to the kitchen. A few others are already there, seeking refuge from the sun and enjoying their own ice creams. Someone put music on a speaker, making the well lit room feel as much a party as the backyard.
Both of you peer into the freezer, weighing the pros and cons of different bars available. At first, you both reach for the same one - and Changyoon retracts his hand as if a lingering touch would burn.
“It’s yours if you want it,” you offer, standing up straight with a smile. He stares at you for a moment, then figures out you mean the ice cream bar in your hand. He glances back into the freezer.
“That’s the last one,” Changyoon realizes.
You shrug. “Still, if you want it.”
“It’s okay. Finders keepers?”
“I didn’t find it,” you correct with a laugh. “Or we could share it?”
That sounds fair and good. Neutral, maybe. Neither too eager to give to you nor to accept your kindness. A good, middleground.
Changyoon doesn’t know what he expected sharing an ice cream bar to look like. He doesn’t quite process it when you take the popsicle stick from him and take a bite after him, Changyoon feels like he’s short circuiting.
He must not be subtle enough about it either, because you chortle as you hold the ice cream out to him again. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing!” Changyoon stammers out quickly. You tilt your head just slightly, and the skepticism is obvious. He takes the bar from you, if only to try to dissuade your suspicions.
With his next bite, all he can think about is whether your lips would taste more like this or chlorine.
