#Go Here Sunshine Park

[isimchi]

Downtown revamp: Go Here Sunshine Park

Pretty true to the original, just made it more romantic since it’s described as a place to take “your potential loved one.”

floor plan under the cut:

[anton-petrov]

Go Here Sunshine Park

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[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [one]

the one in which you get a sex dream about the grouchy hockey player you work for.

genre : childhood best friends to frenemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.2k

chapter warnings : strong language, mature, slight smut (because im a tease), reader’s name is Destiny, jungkook is a bit grumpy towards her (she makes him nervous leave my boy alone), fat shaming (not by any of the main characters), oc had daddy issues, mentions of allergy. that’s about it, please let me know if i missed something.

a/n : here it isssssss drumrolls please because im so excited for this. jungkook as a hockey player??? *deep breaths* enjoy my lovely people. you’re so so loved. asks, reblogs and likes are much appreciated. kisses <3

read part two here

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“Babe, you know you're not going to win right? Don't be wasting your breath.” Bella challenges.

You’re sitting on the chair in your office going through the personnel file of the players. Verifying their names with their contact numbers and photographs which, you’re not going to lie, look like mugshots. Jeez, does smiling a little bit cost them? Anyways, once you’re done you close the file and look up at your assistant bickering with her boyfriend. Phone pressed against her ear. 

You mime hanging up the call and she lifts her index finger, indicating for you to wait. She throws in words like hmmm, yeah, you don’t know what you’re saying, yeah i love you too. Once she’s done, she drops the phone on the glass table in front of you and leans back in her chair. 

“He thinks I will let him get away with anything just because I love him”  

You chuckle, “What’s going on?” 

“You know, I’ve been wanting a cat for so long I even made a pinterest board for that. Last Sunday he surprised me with one and when I told him that I lowkey manifested it, he was not having it. I even showed him the mood board and I NEVER show it to anyone. Evil eye is real.” she all but cries out. 

That’s Bella for you. Highly spiritual and a firm believer of the universe. She claims that everything happens for a reason. She’s like a little ball of sunshine. Ever since you joined the Ice Dominators’ hockey team as a physical therapist, she’s been assisting you and you couldn’t be more thankful seeing the lack of female workers here. Seriously, there's no other female worker here except yourself and Bella which is so diabolical to you.

And it’s not like the men on the hockey team are a bunch of misogynist jerks. On the contrary, they act like they’ve known you for years. It didn't take you long to feel like home here. They are obedient, friendly and pretty nice. Few of them are married with kids while the rest of them remain single. They’re not like a bunch of teenagers, they know what they’re doing.

Except one, what’s his name? Jeon Jungkook. You would describe that man as crude and closed off to a pathological degree. You still remember when you asked him to come to your office so you can look at any possible previous injuries, he lied to your fucking face. Claiming he doesn’t have any when you could clearly see him hobbling sometimes just a tiny bit when he walked away. Years and years of dedication towards your studies have made you capable enough to catch that it is an old injury.

Despite your better judgment, you blamed it on the fact that his team lost the game that day. Poor guy was having a bad day and took it out on you. Big deal. 

“Earth to Destiny” Bella waves a hand close to your face and you shake your head as you look at her.

“Leave the poor man alone” You plead and then ask, “Any details about the new player? I’ll have to add it in the file” 

“Not yet, as far as I know they’re still contemplating the guy named Park Jimin or something”

That gets you real quick. Park Jimin. The name feels like acid on your tongue .The last game being unsatisfactorily resulted in the federation trading one of the players. It was cruel but was done for the better. Bound to happen sooner or later. You had expected it but what you had not expected was you both sharing a same room, sharing the same air.

“Alright then. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s—”

Knock, knock

“Miss Kim, sorry to interrupt but the manager is asking for you” Taehyung’s head pokes through the door.

You stand, picking up the file and sliding it into the tableside drawer, running a free hand over your scrubs. Bella does the same as she plucks her phone from the table and puts it inside her back pocket.

You look at him. “Sure Tae, thank you for informing”

He flashes you a quick, pretty smile before leaving. Bella turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“What do you think it is for?”

You bite your lip. “I have no idea. I wanna say it's about the new player but who knows?”

You hope it is and as unfortunate as it is for you to discuss him, you will have to hold your own. You know better than to be invited into the manager’s office. Though, judging by the temperament of him you would not predict anything. Last time when he called you, it was about Jeon Jerk, asking you to be more serious about your job as if it was your fault the man spared you the necessary details.

The asshole asked YOU to do your job better by virtue of HIS player not being sweet enough to listen. Maybe, there is indeed a misogynistic asshole going around and it’s the manager. No wonder women don’t volunteer to work for him.

Since, You love your job —god knows you wanna keep doing it— you kept quiet and took every jab he threw at you.

“Wait, Do I have time to pray? Should I pray?” she’s clearly panicking and you pat her on the shoulder.

“Just hope my job is still intact” you say, warily reaching for your purse. You both head out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“Miss Kim, have a seat” James nods at the chair before him.

Once you’re settled, he continues, “I asked for you to join me here regarding the upcoming game. Care to fill in about the status of injury assessment?"

You clear your throat, “Absolutely, I was planning on getting on that today” 

“Well, I would love for you to do it soon as you know we have a new player in the team with us now”

You jerk, leaning forward. “We do?”

“Yes, and if you can please hurry with the assessment I would be grateful. You can do that right? Not too much of a work for you, eh?” 

Someone give him a medal from the way he's trying to hide the venom in his voice.

“Sure I can” you give him a firm nod. 

James Adams is an entitled, self centered asshole who thinks he’s above everyone else just because of his position. You reckon he does anything for the team besides talking bullshit. He kind of reminds you of your dad who also has the nasty habit of thinking the world of himself.

You’re all about self love but when that self love turns into chronically demeaning everybody in their close proximity, it boils your blood. This man in front of you is no better than your father. What's that saying? Out of the frying pan into the fire.

So you say nothing further and excuse yourself. You would have barfed in his face if you stayed there a second longer. Actually that's not a very bad idea. Bella is standing outside waiting for you as you close the door behind yourself.

“What did he say?” 

You bark, “Bunch of horseshit” 

“Typical” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook 

There is a buzzing noise somewhere around Jungkook. Fuck, his head hurts. He frantically searches for his phone, still not opening his eyes. When he finds it, he slides his thumb on the screen and picks up the call. 

“Dude, how big do you want your coffin to be?” He loves his best friend but right now he would rather be sleeping than listen to him bark in his own ear. 

He finally squints his eyes open, “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Have you looked at the time?” says Taehyung.

“What time- FUCK!!!” he shrieks as he looks at the clock.

Somebody kill him right now. No wait, he’s gonna die either way so why bother. If he didn’t scream loud enough before, he does now. He all but jumps off the bed when he sees the blondie on the other side sleeping like she fucking owns it, wearing nothing but a thong. She must have heard him malfunctioning because soon she stirs, groaning as she slowly wakes up like a Disney princess. Who the heck is she and how did she get in here? Then it comes to him.

“Please Jungkook just take me to your room and fuck me. Show me what those hockey hands are capable of.” 

He wants to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Speaking straight from his shoulders, he has made plenty of bad decisions throughout his career and this is not his first time bringing a puck bunny up to his room but it has never come to this. Missing his hockey practice because he was too exhausted to get his sweet ass up and run to the academy. 

Taehyung screams from the other side of the line, “Are you there? Hello?” 

Shit, he forgot he was on a call. 

“I’ll be there soon. Cover for me until then.” With that he presses the red circular button and ends the call with him muttering some curses.

He glances back at the blondie, “Why are you not gone yet?” 

She’s looking at him with those fuck me eyes she had last night but right now when he’s well aware of the fact that he’s in hot water, they don’t do shit to him. Coach will have his head on a platter today for sure. Honestly, they wouldn’t have done shit to him if it was not for the great deal of alcohol last night.

“I thought of you as a morning sex person” she twirls a strand of hair with her finger, sitting up now. Her tits hang free and he can see his hickeys decorating her chest.

He wants to laugh. She’s not even close to his type. His type is the woman in blue scrubs with her brunette hair slicked back in a ponytail. His type is the woman who looks like she could be watching grass grow rather than to look at him. His type is the woman who walks into a room and lights it up. His type is the woman who is too bright for him and his mundane personality, who has a face worth millions. His type is Kim Destiny. 

“No need to waste your precious time thinking about me. You can go” 

He places his phone back on the table and saunters over to the bathroom, not bothering looking back at her. He has boundaries and he intends to keep it that way.

He quickly goes through his routine of taking a shower, making a cup of coffee, sliding into a pair of sweatpants and the Ice Dominator’s jersey with his name on the back. Not in that order, of course.

The girl is thankfully gone by the time he finishes. Once he’s done with his coffee he picks up the car keys and a protein bar from the kitchen counter and heads to the academy hoping his limbs remain intact by the time he’s home.

The Academy is bustling as usual with players keeping themselves busy with hockey and their gym sessions. He heads straight for the rink not even bothering to change into the uniform. He needs to see for himself that everybody is still on the ice. Everything comes after that.

Surprisingly, he sees not a single guy when he reaches there. His heartbeat stops.

“Hey Pixie, where are the boys? Did they already leave?” he asks the brunette kid who looks like he just saw a ghost. Or it’s just Jungkook who he saw.

He shakes his head, “They’re all in the gym. The doc called them earlier, said she had something important to get done with them” 

Jungkook gives him a quick thanks and walks towards the gym. What could be so important that she had to call the boys mid practice? Is someone hurt? Is she hurt? His heart leaps in hid throat as he runs. Fuck, please let him be wrong.

The first thing that he sees as he enters the room full of equipment are his teammates. Taehyung and Yoongi are in the corner lifting weights, Namjoon is using the treadmill as he runs on it. The rest of the boys are all scattered around doing their own thing. He still can’t find Destiny anywhere but her assistant, Bella, is talking to Namjoon while holding a file so he lets out a sigh, relieved that nobody is in fact hurt and in need of help. 

“Do you wanna get a tattoo on the peni— oh look who’s here. Jeon Jungkook as I live and breathe.”

Taehyung drops the weight on the ground before walking up to him. He’s dressed in a black tee and sports shorts. The man looks good in everything. Bet he’d look in a sack too. 

“Whoa!! Why do you look like you wanna kill somebody or wanna get killed? Is everything okay?” 

Jungkook lets his face relax, focusing more on the eyebrows which had gone tensed due to his unnecessary anxiety. “Yeah, all’s good. The practice ended early?” 

“The practice ended just on time. It’s you who’s late” he pats my shoulder. 

He runs his fingers through his hair and walks towards the bench, dropping his bag on it. Taehyung follows him ignoring Yoongi who’s calling him back for the weightlifting. 

“Doc wanted to assess our injuries for the last time before our game if you’re curious which, I know you are. You’re always curious about her” 

He winks at Jungkook and he punches him on the chest. Taehyung laughs as he rubs the spot.

“Keep your voice down, will you?” 

Bella’s voice echoes across the room, “Jeon, you’re up next” 

He takes out his water bottle, takes a swig and stands. A wince leaves him as he gets a flashback of the last time he had to face her. It didn’t go very well and he’s sure she hates him now. He would too. After all, he not only talked to her rudely but also lied through his teeth about his injury. It’s pretty old so he had not felt the need to mention it. 

He sees a guy coming out of the office just before he’s about to enter. He has brown hair long enough to reach the nape of his neck. Even from where Jungkook’s standing, he can say the man doesn’t reach above his shoulders. Who the fuck is he? Oh wait, he must be the new player that got traded down here. The guy must have sensed him making a hole through his head by the way he’s staring because he’s begins walking towards him with a bright grin.

“Hey man, you must be Jeon Jungkook? Heard a lot about you. I’m Park Jimin” He holds out his hand, asking Jungkook to shake it and he gives it a firm handshake. Word to the wise : never give someone a weak handshake. His grandfather has been asking him to do that ever since he was 15, said it doesn’t leave a strong impression and he’s be lying if he says he was wrong.

He offers Jimin a nod, “Nice to meet you. Excited to get on the rink with you.” 

He takes his hand back. “Oh the feeling is mutual but—”

“Jungkook, please join me inside” 

Destiny’s voice cuts him off as she looks over to both of them with an eerie expression on her face. Her eyes bounce between them, resting a second longer on Jimin. Does she know him? Do they have a history? Wait, are they a thing? Even if they are, why does it bother him? Jungkook couldn’t care less about the pretty physical therapist who wears her blue scrubs like armor and white crocs with strawberries on them.

He gives Jimin another nod and follows her into the office. Although, he’s not sure if a massage table and a stool resting beside it counts as an office. The room which she works in is much better. This one is just for examinations and massage therapy so he guesses it doesn’t need that much of an upgrade.

She gestures towards the table, “Please sit”

He says nothing and settles himself up, clearing his throat.

“Look I know we got off on the wrong foot last time and it could have gone so much better, but we can still start over right?”

Destiny takes a deep breath, filling her chest with air. She’s wearing her hair in a bun today. It sits at the top of her head and some strands are set loose cascading down her face. God, she’s pretty.

He looks down and back up at her. “Sure”

Her face shows her annoyance with the one word response. He doesn't blame her. He'd be pissed too.

She’s quiet for a moment, “Why don’t you tell me about your knee injury to start with?”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighs, “You know what I’m talking about Jungkook. Please don’t make me work for it. It’s my job to know about your past and present injuries, if any. The manager has already given me crap about it”

He freezes. His hackles rising and his relaxed face long gone.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing”

He levels her with a stern face, “What.did.he.say?”

She’s not obligated to answer him. Hell, she could just slap him in the face and leave but he needs to know what went down with that son of a bitch. When and if she decides to let him in the details and it turns out something wicked, he’s gonna hunt that man down and make his life miserable.

Much to his surprise, she takes a step back and starts talking. "He called me in his office today and," she halts,

"Well let's just say there were some words thrown around which clearly meant he thinks of me as a feather brained bitch"

He might look unbothered from outside but the indignation inside him could just about burn the whole city down. He tries to keep calm and pries some more.

His jaw clenches. "What else?"

Destiny shakes her head, shuffling on her feet. “Jungkook it’s really not that seriou—”

“It is serious. You work for us, you tolerate our asses and in return if we fail to give you the respect which, you deserve by the way cause it’s the bare minimum, we might as well save everyone’s time and money by giving all of this up.”

“Why do you care?” she shakes her head.

He takes a step forward, “Because you— Because you work for us, Destiny. You look out for our bodies, our injuries, our fuckups. Is that not enough?”

She barely reaches his shoulders. It’s cute how she has to crane her neck up in order to look him in the eye. She keeps looking at him for a long minute, searching his face.

“You think I don’t know that? Do you really think I don’t have what it takes to ask for my own dignity?”

He takes a long step back. This conversation was as unforeseen as they come. The room gets filled with heavy silence and he can hear Destiny’s heavy breath. He can tell she’s trying to calm herself as if his words have blindsided her.

Needless to say she’s a tad bit taken aback. Jungkook would be too if someone who never bothered to speak a word to him and when he did, there was nothing pleasant about his tone suddenly started to care.

But that’s where she’s wrong, nothing about his care or concern for her is sudden. He still remembers the day she accidentally drank the almond smoothie Bella brought not knowing the fact that she’s allergic to it. She’d started choking the second it went down her throat. He also remembers how Yoongi injected the epipen against her thigh as she came back to life.

Meanwhile, he stood behind shaking in his goddamn boots. Too scared to let her out of his sight and too pathetic to hold her close. Yeah, he’s not proud of that.

He sighs, “You know that’s not what I meant—”

Namjoon walks inside with a hand towel around his neck “Doc, you about done? The boys are being incorrigible over there. If you don’t hurry, one of them is gonna call a tattoo artist and get their dick tattooed. Right here”

The room falls silent.

“Jesus” she looks over to where the guys are bickering about something, propping her hands on her hips. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Sure” and with that he walks away.

She picks up a blue file from the stool, not looking at him. Why is she not looking at him?

“If you don’t want to tell me about your injury right now, that’s fine. Since, I know it’s pretty old and It’s unlikely that you’re gonna get affected by it in the upcoming games, there’s no need to worry. However, I would still suggest you be careful. Anything can happen out there and your knee is in a vulnerable position. Don’t pick unnecessary fights, don’t let the opponent know your weak link.”

She glances at him, dropping the file back to where it was.

“You can go”

Without a preamble, he heads outside, passing Taehyung. He hears him cracking a joke about penis tattoos and piercings with his girlfriend’s name on it. Destiny cracks up and Jungkook wonders if she would have done the same, had he been the one cracking the joke. Only, he doesn’t crack jokes. Not around her at least. It’s not like he's some grumpy bastard who wants nothing to do with anybody around him and thinks of him as omniscient.

There’s just something about Destiny which puts him at loss of words. Knotting his tongue it in such a way where he can’t get an expression out. Only look at her and god, does he look at her. He's not stupid. He knows it’s a crush but she’s like a mirage to him. She’s unreachable, forbidden and so fucking beautiful.

Does he want to make her his? Yes, Is he going to risk his career and hers over it? Absolutely not. So, he makes use of the only right nobody can take away from him. Not even her. Admire her from afar. Fantasize more about tasting her, licking her slender neck and worshipping the ground that she walks on and one day if she lets him, Jungkook will do anything to turn all of that into reality.

He finds Yoongi seated on of the benches, scrolling on his phone.

Facing him, Jungkook speaks in a low voice. "Do you have any idea where James is?"

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

Never have you ever wanted to run away as much as you did when you saw Jimin in front of yourself, standing all tall and proud. You had wished it to be a dream, wished you just had a nightmare about him joining the same team you happen to work with but reality is a goddamn bitch and it bites hard when it does. He had grown out his hair longer but he still has the same smile, same eyes and the same charm he used on you back then. Park Jimin is a man people don’t ever forget once they see him. He has an aura which traps everyone so hard they can never escape. How do you know? You have been a victim yourself.

You meticulously go through the consequences and eventualities of being in the same room as him again. You seeing him everyday and him reminding you of every single detail you have tried so hard forgetting about, the boys finding out about you both and putting you through the wringer or worse, him. The possibilities are endless and you feel the sudden urge to square everything with him.

Contrary to what you had thought, he reacted pretty normally when he saw you as if somebody had already told him about you. You had expected him to get shocked or at the very least pretend to be shocked.

Having said that, he just gave you a single nod as if you're someone he passes by every morning at the park. Are you this forgettable? Are you someone people just brush aside like that? Your father’s words echo in your ears like loud drums,

“You know, nobody will love you if you keep looking like this. Eat less”

“Girl, do you ever stop eating? Every time I see you, you're stuffing something in that mouth of yours!!”

“Don’t come running back at me when no guy gives a shit about you”

You were 10 and he was an asshole. He still is.

Thanks to him, you now have a tendency to cook when you're stressed over anything. It brings you comfort and diverts your mind from the excessive overthinking. You would go bald if it puts the voices into silent mode.

After already wasting half of your life speculating what to eat, counting calories and whatnot, you came to the terms that you can’t actually operate that way and began eating whatever the fuck you wanted. Yet still, you need to go a long way in order to fully love yourself and your body. It's a journey and you're moving ahead step by step. One day at a time.

One would even say you're hot. You have received compliments from several people over the course of time except you don’t have a thigh gap, your arms jiggle and you also happen to have a love handle. You would have adored them if it wasn’t for your dad making you feel shitty about having them.

A knock on your door stops you midway as you're kneading the dough. Biscuit runs over to you, jumping on the counter.

“Coming”

The knock comes back again, this time slightly louder.

“Oh my god wait I’m coming”

The door swings open and you gasp. “Mina?”

She passes by you, dragging her suitcase along with her.

“Hey bestie”

You close the door and follow her further into the hall. “What’s going on? What’s with the suitcase?”

Your best friend’s sudden arrival must have caught you by slight surprise but your cat is rather pleased to see her. Traitor. She starts clawing at her feet excitedly.

“What a good girl you are? Yes, you are” Mina coos at her and then glances up at you from where she has biscuit nestled in her lap,

“I need a place to live for a few days because my shitty boss kept rejecting all my articles and I really wanna bring her something worth the front page. Apparently, writing about the famous coffee shop around the corner and their secret ingredient being maple syrup wasn’t good enough.”

You round the counter and continue kneading the dough for your strawberry pie. It’s not unlikely for Mina to show up unannounced. In fact, she has done that plenty of times but the suitcase was never involved. This one is new.

“So you decided to barge in here without even asking?” You tease.

She flashes you a dramatic look. “Look at us, Destiny. Aren’t we the same girls who giggled about living together after college? With matching slippers and movie marathons?”

“Okay okay you dramatic bitch. How long are you here for?”

Biscuit runs to do her business and she gets up, setting her suitcase to the side.

She sighs, “Not sure. As long as it takes me to come up with a new topic to write about–HEY— why don’t I just write on the hockey team you work with? What are they called? Ice…ice”

“Ice Dominators” you fill in for her.

She slaps her thigh. “That’s the one”

You shrug, “I mean you can, but you’ll have to call in on the coach first. He operates everything inside and outside the team”

Coach Ian is too nice to turn her request down. He’s one of the most genuine people in the federation. Maybe this is why the team is so strong and united. He respects every single boy and receives it tenfold. It's a mutual thing.

“Shit, How come I didn’t think about that” she bites her lip, her enthusiasm replaced by nervousness.

“Don’t worry. He won’t make you work for it. Ian is as nice as they come” you assure.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. As you watch, she opens your fridge, taking out the box of frozen blueberries and pops one into her mouth.

“Do you want me to give you a hand?” she mumbles while chewing.

You point towards the bathroom, “Go and take a shower, right now. You stinky”

You duck the blueberry she throws your way, laughing as you do. Giving your cheek one last kiss, she excuses herself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Warm hands roam over your thigh, squeezing them. You muffle your moan with your palm and take every thrust. 

“Yeah, you like that? You like how I’m pounding into this ass right now?” 

You gasp. 

“Such a good girl” he praises.

The man behind you presses a kiss to your naked shoulder as he rasps in your ears, “Were you walking around all day dripping for me?” 

He pulls his cock out and thrusts again. You meet him with equal passion and hunger. 

“Tell me” 

You nod. 

“I need your words, Destiny” 

You cry out, “Yes Oh god, Yes. I wanted you in me so bad” 

He cups your pussy and rubs your clit with his palm until you're rolling your eyes to the back of your head and squirming. Thrust after thrust he brings you to your sweet release while talking dirty things in your ear. You're about to melt into a puddle of goo. He’s got you totally at his mercy. 

“So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well huh?” 

“Ahh it feels so good, right there. Just right there, don’t stop” 

He bites down your shoulder, “Come for me and let everyone outside hear the name you’re screaming, you dirty whore” 

Your heartbeat picks up as you squeeze him with the tight ring of muscle, orgasm crashing over. 

“FUCK. Oh my god Jungkook!!”

Your eyes fling open and you sit up so fast your head starts spinning. Everything around you is pitch black. Wait, where am you? 

Mina is at your side in an instant, “Destiny, are you okay babe?”

You look around and release a sigh of relief. You run your fingers through your hair, ruffling them. 

“Yeah um… I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” 

Except it wasn’t. It was one hell of a dream where you were getting fucked into oblivion by your player. You're not even going to lie and say that you didn’t like it. C’mon you're a woman of needs, it’s just that, him fulfilling those needs was not on the cards for you even if it wasn't real.

You check the time on your phone and wince at the bright light flashing up at you. It’s 2:45 am and you just had a back breaking sex dream about a man who you want nothing to do with. Who, as beautiful as he is, annoys the hell out of you with those one word replies and grumpy face. An edgy feeling threatens to rise.

Oh god it’s going to be awkward now. It’s only normal to walk on eggshells around someone people have these sort of dreams about. You have read your fair share of books where the female character gets a sex dream about a man and then they don’t talk to each other for the rest of their lives. Okay, that's a bit of a stretch but it might as well not be.

Yeah, you admit you guys don’t talk to each other a lot as it is, or are longtime best friends tiptoeing around their feelings, but you're afraid you're gonna have to ignore him forever for the sake of your own sanity. 

I’m so fucked. You think.

tags - @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw

[gghostwriter]

Out of Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.

He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.

The number you dialed is either unattended—

“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—

The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.

A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.

When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.

Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.

He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.

The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.

He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.

“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”

Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.

“It’s 7:50, love.”

You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”

Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.

“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”

The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”

“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”

You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.

He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”

Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”

His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.

“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”

“No. Never,” you sniffled.

“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”

The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.

Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.

For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.

“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[witchywithwhiskey]

tempting fate on the terrace

pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you're relaxing on bucky's penthouse terrace and eating ice cream when he tempts you into something more

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, creampie, come play, light teasing, light overstimulation, finger sucking, choking, light bdsm, semi-public sex, little bit of exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluff

word count: 2,900ish

a/n: y'all have @biteofcherry to blame for this follow up, because i couldn't get her idea out of my head and i just had to write it 😅 i'm so so so so so happy with how this turned out. i kind of can't get enough of these naughty little lovebirds, i just love them so much!!! and i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! ♡

tempting fate in the park (part 1)

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)

The spring sunshine was perfectly warm on your face, and you stretched your legs out, sinking further into the soft cushions of the outdoor sofa as you considered whether you should trade in your Brooklyn brownstone for a Manhattan penthouse. Specifically a penthouse with a terrace as pretty as the one belonging to Bucky Barnes. 

You licked your ice cream cone thoughtfully, gazing through the greenery that had been set up around the edge of the terrace to give it a sense of privacy. The whole of Manhattan seemed to sprawl beyond the edge of Bucky’s penthouse and you enjoyed the view almost as much as you loved the tree-lined Brooklyn street where you lived.

But your brownstone didn’t have a concierge to go buy ice cream and cones so you could have a delightful treat after being ruined by one of the most powerful CEOs in the city—who also happened to be your father’s business rival. That said, your apartment did have a bagel store around the block with the best bagels in New York City…

You were distracted from comparing the benefits of your home to Bucky’s by the door to the terrace sliding open with a soft sound. The man who had been nothing more than your father’s business rival—until he’d become much, much more—paused just outside the door, his hands slipping into the pockets of his lounge pants while he stared at you lazing about on his outdoor sofa.

You grinned, taking a long lick of your ice cream as you stared right back at him. He looked deliciously comfortable in his lounge pants and simple gray t-shirt, the soft cotton pulling tight across his broad shoulders. His brown hair was a little disheveled from how much you’d run your fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled in the golden late afternoon light. 

“Y’know, darling, I could get used to seeing you looking so comfortable in my home,” Bucky rumbled as he prowled over to the sofa, lifting your legs and sitting down so they sprawled across his lap. Since he was closer, you could better see the way his eyes darkened as he raked them along your body. “And I could definitely get used to seeing you wear my clothes.” He fingered the bottom hem of the button-up shirt you were wearing—the one you’d stolen off his floor and put on because it smelled like him. “In fact, maybe it should be a rule that you only wear my clothes when you’re here.”

You laughed, the sound bright and airy as you tipped your head back, and you were still smiling when you looked back at Bucky. “You already made it a rule that I can’t wear panties while I’m here,” you pointed out, kicking him lightly with your bare foot. “At this rate, I’ll have to walk around naked, and I love your terrace too much for that—your neighbors are going to see me and we’re actually going to get that public indecency charge.”

Bucky’s hands had begun to massage your calves, slowly working their way up your legs but he paused in thought, his gaze going distant as he stared out over the city. “Y’know, I don’t think you can get charged for public indecency if you’re naked on a private terrace,” he said, then turned mischievous eyes on you. “Why don’t we test it out,” he teased in a deliciously warm tone, his hands slipping up your thighs to push the hem of your shirt up, revealing your bare pussy to his gaze.

“Jamie—someone could see!” you cried, laughing and pushing him away half-heartedly with one hand while you tried to hold your ice cream cone stable in the other. But Bucky turned and wedged his body between your legs so you couldn’t close them, his gaze heating as he stared down at the apex of your thighs.

“Christ, your pussy looks pretty with my come spilling out of it,” Bucky muttered, almost to himself, his fingers trailing through your still sticky folds. Your hips stuttered up against his fingertips and you sucked in a gasp as he brushed gently against your sensitive clit. “So fucking pretty, darling.” 

“Jamie.” That time, when you said his name, it was more of a whimper, the sound so desperate it made heat flood your cheeks. You and Bucky had already fucked three times since you’d arrived at his penthouse, it was amazing that your body was still hungry for more. It felt like you’d be hungry for Bucky for the rest of your life.

Bucky looked up at you, grinning when he saw the needy look on your face. “You might want to finish your ice cream, darling, because I’m fucking another load into your pretty cunt the second you’re done,” he said, his voice low and gravelly and making you shiver as warmth pooled between your thighs. 

Grabbing the collar of Bucky’s shirt, you pulled yourself up to sit, your legs wrapped around his waist from the side and held your treat out to him. “Help me finish, Jamie,” you begged in a playful tone, giving him a sweet smile as if you didn’t hear the double entendre of your words. 

Bucky held your gaze as he leaned forward and took a big bite of your ice cream, chomping on some of the cone and making you laugh. But the warm spring sunshine was hot enough that the ice cream was soon dripping down your fingers and you quickly licked it up. Bucky watched you for a moment before he wrapped a hand around your throat and dragged you in for a messy kiss, the sweet taste of ice cream filling your senses just as much as the rich taste that was all Bucky.

Together, the two of you finished off your ice cream, laughing and kissing and tasting each other. When the cone was gone, you licked the sticky sweetness from Bucky’s fingers, your tongue teasing over his skin while you watched his blue eyes darken with desire. Once you were done, he tortured you in much the same way, his tongue sliding between your fingers in such an obscene way, you let out a soft moan as you imagined his warm mouth pressed between your thighs instead.

By the time every trace of ice cream had been licked from your skin, you were soaking wet and desperate for Bucky; you pulled him in for a kiss. He made quick work of unbuttoning the shirt you wore and pushing it down over your shoulders while your fingers dove beneath his t-shirt. You raked your nails lightly through the dark hair that decorated his chest, delighting in the softness of it against your fingertips. He groaned into your mouth, breaking away only to pull his shirt off. 

Then he was laying you down on the sofa and pushing his lounge pants off to pool at his feet before he climbed over you, covering your body with his broader form. His hips settled between your thighs, his hard length nestling perfectly between your slick lower lips. 

“Fuck, you feel good, darling,” Bucky rumbled on a moan, moving his hips back and forth, just enough to slide the hard ridge of his cock against your puffy clit. “Wanna be buried in this cunt every fucking moment of the day—you’re tuning me into some pussy-drunk idiot,” he growled, kissing and nipping at your jaw while his hand circled your throat, his fingers digging lightly into the sides.

You huffed a sound that was half laugh, half shuddering moan, your legs hooking around the backs of Bucky’s thighs and using the leverage to grind against his bare cock. “If it makes you feel any better, all I can think about is how badly I want to be your cockdrunk little slut,” you murmured in his ear, nuzzling your cheek against the scruff on his jaw and delighting in the delicious rasp against your skin. “I think about sitting under your desk in your office, your cock in my throat, keeping you warm while you work.”

“Oh fuck��fuck, darling,” Bucky groaned, rocking against you harder, his cock growing wet and slick with your juices the more he slid through your pussy lips. “When you’re not here and I’m stroking my cock, I think about fucking you at one of your father’s boring galas,” he rumbled, his words coming faster to match the speed of his hips. “I think about sinking my cock into you and pumping you full of come and making you go back out to the party with my load dripping down your thighs beneath your gown.”

You raked your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, clinging to him while your hips kept rocking together. His hard cock was rubbing your clit and his words were spinning delicious fantasies and it was too much. You felt your release swelling within you, threatening to overwhelm you, but you didn’t want to come against his cock, you wanted to come on his cock.

“Jamie,” you cried on a gasp, babbling words that you hoped made sense so he’d know what you wanted, “I can’t—I’m gonna—please, inside me—come, please!” 

Thankfully, Bucky understood your nonsense and he chuckled against your cheek. “Remember to be quiet, darling,” he rumbled, the warmth in his tone telling you he was grinning. “Don’t want the neighbors to hear you and risk finding out about whether we can get a public indecency charge on my private terrace.”

Before you could even think to respond to his teasing, Bucky pulled back, the tip of his cock needing no guidance to find your dripping hole. He slid inside easily, stretching you out around his cock. Your cunt was so wet, and you were so close to coming, it felt like your body was sucking him in deeper, your inner walls clinging to him as he split you open with his cock.

Despite Bucky’s warning, you groaned loudly—not because you wanted to find out about the indecency charge, but because you simply couldn’t control yourself. No matter how many times Bucky fucked you, every time he pushed deep into your cunt, it felt so good your mind went fuzzy with pleasure. You never wanted it to end, you wanted him inside you all the time, always and forever.

When the head of his cock pushed against your cervix, he grunted in pleasure while you moaned your own delight. Bucky dug his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat, cutting off your sound of ecstasy while he lifted himself up enough to see you. His eyes roved hungrily over your face, eagerly drinking in the way your expression twisted in pleasure as he pulled back and thrust inside you again, his hips clapping against your thighs. 

“Dirty, filthy girl,” Bucky grunted, thrusting into you to punctuate each word. “Can never be quiet when I tell you.”

You tried to smirk up at him, but another hard driving thrust had your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open on a silent moan. With what you thought was a valiant effort, you mannaged to huff, “That’s because I like it when you make me be quiet, Mr. Barnes.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed on you and his mouth twisted into a determined snarl. “You know I prefer when you call me Jamie,” he growled, fucking you harder and faster, pressing his face close to yours so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your cheek. “You call me Jamie when my cock is deep in your cunt and I’m about to pump you full of my fourth load today—d’you hear me, darling?”

It was so much fun riling Bucky up, and you were enjoying the result of your efforts, your body lighting up from within as he pounded into you. But you knew he wanted an answer to his question, so you parted your lips and babbled, “Yes, sir, you feel so good, Jamie—love it when you fuck me hard, Jamie, please!”

“There’s my good girl,” Bucky rumbled, his tone as warm as the sunshine falling across your bare skin. He brushed a kiss to your cheek and pushed your thighs wider, fucking you in deep, grinding thrusts that had his pelvis rubbing perfectly against your clit. “Now come on my cock, darling, wanna feel your cunt choking my dick like I’m choking your pretty throat.”

As if you could resist an order like that. 

At Bucky’s filthy words, you came undone. The swelling pleasure in your core burst, and your body went taut as wave after wave of overwhelming sensation washed over you. Your lips parted in a scream that Bucky made sure stayed silent, his big hand gripping your throat so tightly, it made your entire being focus in on everything your body was feeling, every little spark and fizzle of pleasure that came from his cock, his hand—him.

“Good girl, so good, feel so fucking good, darling, fuck—fuck,” Bucky groaned, his hips thrusting wildly between your thighs until he pressed deep and let out a low grunt. His cock twitched and throbbed inside you and you knew he was coming, your clenching pussy milking every drop of his load from his balls. 

“Jamie,” you murmured when he loosened his grip on your throat. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.” Your chanting words were a plea and a prayer, which Bucky seemed to understand because his arms dug beneath your body so he could cradle you tight to his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. You rode out your releases like that, your bodies writhing together, clinging to one another, unwilling to let the other move even a millimeter away. 

Slowly, eventually, the two of you settled, your body melting beneath Bucky’s while his cock softened inside you. His come spilled from your slit, sliding down between your ass cheeks. But you couldn’t be bothered by the mess the two of you had made, not when it felt too good to simply lay with Bucky, both of you naked and basking in the golden spring sunshine.

“Sooo,” you began, drawing out the word as you trailed your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair. He rumbled a short hum of acknowledgement. “D’you think any of your neighbors heard us?”

That had Bucky chuckling. He pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips finding the same spot where his fingers had dug in, making you shiver. “What’re they gonna do, tell me I can’t fuck my girlfriend on my own private terrace?” he grumbled. 

You went still beneath him and Bucky could feel the change in you, immediately lifting himself up so he could see your face. At his questioning look, you whispered, “That’s the first time you’ve called me your girlfriend.” You hated how small your voice sounded, but you were suddenly very afraid it was a slip of the tongue that Bucky would take back the second you pointed it out.

But he didn’t. Instead, his eyes went soft and he ducked down to press a sweet and firm kiss to your lips. “You’re my girlfriend,” he said resolutely, but then paused and gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. “Unless you don’t want to be.”

Your eyes widened and your fingers dug possessively into the back of his neck. “No, no, I want to be, I want to be,” you assured him quickly, smiling when he looked relieved. You pulled him down for another kiss, though it was difficult because you were grinning so hard. “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend, Jamie?”

“Of course I am,” he growled, nipping playfully at your lip and making you giggle.

“OK good,” you said with a happy sigh, going back to raking your fingers through his hair. “Then as your girlfriend,” you began, a teasing lightheartedness in your tone. “I demand my boyfriend get me another ice cream cone—since he ate half of mine.” When Bucky cut his eyes to yours, you gave him your best innocent pout, even though you knew he saw right through you. 

“Anything for you, darling,” he rumbled, dropping a kiss to your lips before he extricated himself from your body and sat up. He pulled his lounge pants back on and then tugged his t-shirt on over your head, a pleased smile curving his lips at the sight of you wearing his clothes. 

When Bucky dragged you up from the sofa, you tugged the hem of his shirt down over your ass, not wanting to flash any neighbors who might be looking, even though the greenery around the edge of the terrace would likely block you from view. Still, if you ever happened to move into Bucky’s penthouse, you didn’t want to have a reputation for walking around naked.

Not that you could see yourself giving up your beloved Brooklyn brownstone. 

Probably.

Unless Bucky asked you to move into his penthouse…

Thankfully, you were distracted from what a future with Bucky would mean for your housing situation by the man himself pulling your favorite flavor of ice cream from his freezer. He turned to you with a happy grin, looking devastatingly handsome and at home in his penthouse kitchen.

Right then, you decided you weren’t going to be tempting fate on the terrace again. It had been fun to fuck your boyfriend where any of his neighbors could have overheard or caught a glimpse of you, but you didn’t want to risk it again.

Just in case you did end up moving into Bucky Barnes’ penthouse.

tempting fate in the park (part 1)

tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)

tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)

[hoshifighting]

New in the Suburbs – New Neighboor! Joshua

�� WARNINGS: Smut, fingering, pussy eating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, lots of flirting and dirty talk, hair pulling, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, good first impression (both). — WC: 4.5k

On a bright and sunny day, you found yourself outside your house, taking advantage of the weather to give your car a well-deserved wash. The gentle breeze carried the scent of soap and water as you stood there, hose in hand, working diligently to make your car shine. The vehicle was parked just outside the garage, basking in the warmth of the sun.

The water gushed from the hose, soaking both you and the car. You leaned casually on the hood, propping your feet up on the tall tire to ensure you reached every nook and cranny with the rinse. Your skin glistened under the sun, creating a glow that seemed to catch the attention of anyone passing by. 

As you immerse yourself in the task, a voice interrupted your thoughts. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted Dokyeom, Jihoon, and a new face you had never seen before. The unfamiliar guy wore khaki shorts and a crisp white buttoned shirt, adorned with the subtle elegance of the ARMANI logo. He radiated a captivating charm that caught you off guard.

To his eyes, you likely appeared enchanting—looking like the movie cover of a hot summer full of tanned, toned people. Your white tank top clung to your form, its transparency accentuated by the water, and your shorts molded against your body, creating a silhouette that seemed straight out of a summer fantasy. With your wet hair tousled from the refreshing shower you gave yourself, the trio approached, curious and captivated.

Dokyeom, noticing the enchantment in Joshua's gaze, decided to take the initiative and introduce his friend to you. With a playful smile, he nudged Joshua and gestured towards you.

"Y/N, meet Joshua," Dokyeom announced, his tone carrying a hint of mischief. "He just moved into the neighborhood."

You turned your attention to Joshua, and your eyes met his. There was a warmth in his gaze, and you couldn't help but return his friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Joshua," 

He extended his hand, shaking yours with a firm grip that lingered longer than the usual greeting. A subtle connection sparked in that moment as you exchanged smiles.

 "The pleasure is all mine, Y/N. I must say, Dokyeom has been singing the praises of this neighborhood, but meeting you adds a whole new level of charm."

Dokyeom chuckled, nudging Joshua playfully. "Told you it's a great place. And Y/N here is one of the reasons why."

Feeling a playful embarrassment, you couldn't help but blush as you lightly hit Dokyeom's chest in response to his teasing. He laughed, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

"Alright, alright, I see what's going on here," Dokyeom teased, exchanging knowing glances with Joshua. "We'll leave you to do your car wash duties. But Joshua, make sure you get settled in properly, alright?"

Joshua nodded with a smile, still holding a lingering gaze that didn't go unnoticed. "Absolutely. Thanks for the warm welcome, Y/N. I'll catch you around."

As they turned to leave, you bid them farewell with a wave. "Sure thing! Nice meeting you, Joshua. And Dokyeom, don't you dare make this a neighborhood gossip!"

Dokyeom laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I won't say a word! Have fun, Y/N."

As you resumed attending to the car, thoughts swirled in your mind. You wondered what it was about Joshua that made him so captivating. While you couldn't quite put a finger on it, there was a magnetic draw to his presence.

As the day went by, you continued your routine, occasionally stealing glances toward the house where Joshua had moved in. The encounter replayed in your memory, leaving you curious to see him again.

The next day, as you lounged in your backyard, basking in the sunshine while you wore your bikinis, a familiar figure caught your eye. Joshua, his athletic frame glistening with a touch of sweat, ran past your house.

Just as he passed by, he suddenly stopped and turned towards you, leaning against the fence that separated your yards. His eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't expected to find you there in such a relaxed state. A warm smile spread across his face as he gave you a friendly wave.

Joshua leaned against the fence, his breath slightly labored from the run. He looked at you and grinned. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. You look absolutely glowing in the sun."

You chuckled softly, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thanks, I suppose the sun has a way of bringing out the best in everyone, including you. Running, I see. You always this energetic in the mornings?"

Joshua shrugged playfully, raking a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

 "Ah, you know it's part of my morning routine. Gotta get the blood pumping before the day begins. But I must say, the sight of you basking in the sun has added a few extra beats to my heart."

You grinned, a mix of surprise and amusement dancing in your eyes. "Is this your way of flirting with me, Mr. Energetic? Or are those "extra beats" just from your run?"

Joshua chuckled, a playful glint in his gaze. "Ah, you caught me. It's a bit of both, I suppose. Can you blame me for being flirty when faced with such a captivating view?"

As you walked toward him swaying your hips, Joshua's eyes tracked you as you approached, his smile widening in response. Once you reached the fence and leaned against it, Joshua's eyes flicked up to meet yours.

"You know, it's the second day and you're already flirting with me? My friends will surely enjoy hearing about this!" you taunted, your voice laced with a hint of teasing challenge.

Joshua's eyes tracked you as you approached, his smile widening in response. Once you reached the fence and leaned against it, he responded with a teasing tone.

"Oh, am I making such a strong impression already?" He teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "If my flirting is that obvious, I guess I can't keep it a secret from your friends for long. They'll find out real quick that I can't help but flirt with the beautiful girl next door."

A soft laugh escaped your lips, enjoying the light-hearted banter between you. You leaned in a little closer, keeping your gaze locked with his. "Well, I'll make sure to let them know. But don't worry, I won't tell them how eagerly you've been eyeing me in my bikinis."

Joshua's cheeks flushed slightly, a hint of embarrassment creeping onto his face. He quickly regained his composure and grinned. "Fair enough. I'll keep it subtle, or at least I'll try to. No promises, though."

You couldn't help but smile at his response. The chemistry between you was palpable, leaving a flutter in your chest. Leaning back a bit, you teased, "Well, if you can't resist your eyes wandering, I might have to start wearing something more... revealing. I'm sure you wouldn't mind that, right?"

Joshua's eyes widened, a blush deepening on his cheeks. He stuttered slightly before mustering a playful reply. "Ah, now you're just doing it to torment me, aren't you? But you won't hear any complaints from me."

Your smirk widened, enjoying his flustered reaction. "Oh, not tormenting, just giving you a little taste."

Joshua's eyes glimmered with anticipation as he played along. "Just a taste? I'm starting to think you're a master of teasing." He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "But I can play that game too."

Joshua took a step closer, his body nearly against yours. His eyes held a mixture of playfulness and desire. You looked back at him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Can you?"

He nods, his voice low and husky. "Oh, I definitely can."

You stepped back, creating a small gap between you, and glanced back at him with a sultry gaze. You turned back around and laid back on the lounger, giving him a teasing look over your shoulder.

Joshua paused for a moment, his gaze roving over you before leaving a casual comment. "You know, I might have to run near your house more often if this is the view I get." He chuckled softly, his eyes meeting yours one more time before he started to walk back towards his house.

You watched him leave, the events of the conversation replaying in your mind. The chemistry between you was undeniable, leaving you curious about what the future might hold.

As the week progressed, you observed the hustle and bustle next door, catching glimpses of Joshua moving into his new home. From time to time, you would spot him jogging past your house during his morning runs. The sight of him sent a flutter in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was intentionally passing by your place on his runs.

[...]

Today was Friday, and after a long day at work, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel. As you padded into the kitchen, there was a sudden knock on the door. Surprised, you hesitated for a moment, wondering who could be visiting at this hour.

You approached the door and peered through the peephole, curiosity piqued. To your surprise, you saw Joshua standing there, wearing a casual outfit and a friendly smile.

You widened your eyes slightly, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding your senses. Quickly, you adjusted your towel and took a breath to compose yourself. Opening the door, you greeted Joshua with a warm smile, quickly running a hand through your damp hair

"Hey there, Joshua. What brings you there?" You asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Joshua's smile widened as he saw you, taking in the sight of you in your towel. his eyes momentarily flickering down before returning to meet yours. He ran a hand through his hair in a casual gesture.

"Ah, I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time," he stuttered slightly, clearly trying to keep his mind from wandering to the sight of you in a towel.

You chuckled softly, not missing the momentary distraction in his eyes.

"Not at all. You just caught me right after a shower."

"I noticed you just got home a while ago, so I thought I'd drop by to see how your day was and maybe..." he hesitated for a moment, a playful glint in his gaze. "Maybe invite you to hang out tonight. If you're not too tired, that is."

"I just wanted to invite you to my housewarming party tonight. It's nothing grand, just some friends chilling and having a good time."

You nodded with a small smile, appreciative of the invite, but feeling slightly embarrassed in your impromptu outfit.

"Sure, that sounds great! Let me just change real quick and I’ll be right over."

Joshua’s expression turned playfully sulky as he responded with a touch of disappointment. “Ah, do you really have to change? I quite liked the sight of you in that towel.”

As his sulky expression intensified, you couldn't help but tease him a bit. You laughed playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Ah, now you really want me to wear just a towel?” You teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Well, I suppose I could give everyone a treat, but then again, where's the fun in having me all to yourself if there's a crowd?"

Joshua's disappointment melted away, replaced by a sly smile that matched your own. He took a step closer, the distance between you growing increasingly intimate.

"You're right," he mused, his voice low and suggestive. "Crowds are overrated, especially when there's a chance to have you all to myself." His gaze fixated on your lips, a hint of desire in his eyes.

As he stepped inside, the air thick with tension and desire, you found yourself leaning against the wall for support. His closeness sent a shiver down your spine, and as he closed the door, the moment grew even more intimate.

Your breath hitched slightly, and your eyes widened, meeting his intense gaze. You could feel the wetness between your legs growing, and the desire within you intensifying, despite your best attempts to hide it.

"You sure' you want to change?" 

Your breath hitched as his mouth hovered near your lips, anticipating a kiss. But instead, Joshua planted a kiss on your neck, gently nibbling and sending a bolt of electricity through you. A moan escaped your lips, the sensation causing your chest to heave.

His body pressed against yours, and he pressed his lips into your skin, trailing a path of kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"You've been on my mind all week, you know that? Every time I ran past your house, it took every ounce of restraint not to come knock on your door and finish what I started that first day." His mouth then traveled up to your earlobe, nibbling it gently.

As his hands gripped your waist, you were flush against the wall and his body, the towel doing little to shield you from the heat of his touch. His breath mingled with yours, warm and tantalizing. You parted your lips just as his caressed yours in a soft tease.

Joshua took advantage of your parted lips, gently coaxing his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His other hand found its way under the towel, tracing the curve of your ass possessively. You gasped softly, the pleasure intensifying.

His hand caressing your breast was both gentle and masterful, with a slight shift in movement, the knot of the towel gave way, and you gasped against his mouth. He took the opportunity to pull you closer and explore further.

With you even more exposed, the feel of your bodies pressed together without barriers intensified the sensations. Joshua kissed his way down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. You could feel his arousal pressing into you, a delicious friction that made you ache for more. The sound of your moans and heavy breathing filled the air, adding to the wanton atmosphere.

He guided you to the dining table, the surface cool against your heated skin. You sat on its edge, the cool sensation only adding to the contrast of sensations. As he pushed your legs apart, exposing your wet dripping pussy to him.

His attention and touch on your thighs were both possessive and admiring, leaving behind a trail of shivers with every caress. He whispered words of praise, telling you how much enjoyed the sight of you like this, vulnerable and naked before him.

His thumb brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your back arched in response. You gasped as jolts of pleasure shot through you, leaving you breathless. 

''Joshua! Hmm…"

"Oh, that's right. Say my name, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you want me," he whispered against your skin, his voice low and seductive. You gasped, arching further under the ministrations of his touch.

"Joshua..." You moaned softly, your body shivering with pleasure. "Yes..." he murmured, his thumb circling your sensitive clit.

Joshua continued with his thumb moving in slow circles, driving you closer to the edge. "You sound so lovely when you’re all needy." 

You let him do with you what he pleased, lying back on the table, with chest rising and falling fast, you arch your back as he continued to tease you. His touch grew more insistent, determined to bring you to the brink. 

Joshua penetrates two of his fingers inside your pussy, your cunt swallowing his fingers eagerly continued their work, stroking and gently rubbing, while his other hand moved up to caress your belly and chest.

You moaned softly, a desperate edge to your voice. "I’m close," you murmur, every syllable quivering with pleasure. He picked up on your need, his breath warm against your ear. "I know," he whispered, a teasing lilt in his tone. "I can feel how close you are." His touch against you intensified, determined to take you over the edge.

He worked you to the brink of ecstasy, his touch and whispers driving you wild. Your body arched and trembled under his ministrations. "Let go," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Cum for me."

You grabbed onto his forearm, holding on tight as you came undone. Your body tensed and arched, a strangled scream escaping your lips as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hand continued to move gently as you rode it out, coaxing every last spasm from your trembling body.

Even as you began to come down from the high, Joshua continued his ministrations, not giving you a moment reprieve. You writhed and squirmed on the table, oversensitive and breathless. "Wait," you stuttered, your voice strained. "I can't take it anymore."

"Shh," he whispered, his hand cupping your cheek. "Just let me take care of you." His touch gently persisted, pushing you to another edge.

Your gasp was followed by a plea, his name falling from your lips like a desperate refrain. The pleasure was overwhelming, verging on the edge of pain, and the knot tightened in your belly, the sensations building again. "Joshua," you gasped again, tears welling in your eyes as he continued to coax you towards your second climax.

Joshua kneeled down between your thighs, his gaze darkened with desire. The proximity of his mouth to your sensitive clit was enough to drive you wild, even before he touched you. And when he did, you let out a sharp cry, the heat of his tongue adding to the intense sensations.

You grasped onto his hair, needing something to anchor you, as the pleasure built with each movement of his tongue. Your vision blurred at the edges, the world starting to lose focus as the climax approached again. Joshua's groaned against you, the sound reverberating through your body and sending more waves of pleasure through you.

In the aftermath of your climax, you lay on the table, your body boneless and breathless. Joshua ran his hands gently over your trembling form, coaxing you back from the heights of pleasure.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He murmured, his voice soft and tender.

You nodded, your gaze hazy and satisfied. Joshua continued to caress your skin, his touch light and soothing.

As he tended to you, Joshua's kisses and caresses became increasingly needy. His mouth on your neck, biting and nibbling, while his hands roamed your body possessively. 

You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you, the contact sending a wave of heat through you. Despite your recent climax, his touch reignited your desire and set your nerves aflame.

His mouth moved lower, trailing down your chest to reach your sensitive nipples. He teased, his tongue swirling around each hard bud. You gasped at the sensitivity of it, your hand grasping at his hair.

His tongue flicking against them teasingly, as he looks at you.

As Joshua's lips continued to explore your body and his actions grew more intense, you couldn't help but notice the evident bulge in his pants. His control, usually so steadfast, seemed to falter slightly, the desire between you overwhelming his restraint.

"J-Joshua," you managed to gasp out, your voice thick with desire. "You're... so hard." 

He lifted his head, meeting your gaze, his eyes darkened with need.

Joshua's gaze darkened further as you mentioned his arousal, the words only serving to heighten his desire. "Can you feel what you did to me?" he managed to say, his voice strained with restraint. 

He shifted slightly, his body pressing more firmly against yours, letting you feel the full extent of his need. Heat pulsed between you, leaving no room for doubt about how much he wanted you.

You responded to his words with an ardent sigh, the sound dripping with need. "I want– " you gasped as his mouth found your neck again, planting a hot kiss. "I want to feel you. All of you." Your words were barely above a whisper, but their meaning, clear.

His control slipped further, the hunger in his gaze deepening as he looked up at you. "You'll have me," he promised, his voice filled with desire. "Every inch."

As your hand strayed down your belly, your fingers teasing your throbbing clit, Joshua watched in awe and desire. The sight was almost too much, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to resist the urge to take control.

He tried to focus on breathing as he watched your actions, his own desire straining against the confines of his pants. Your eyes met his, and he could do nothing to resist his lust. He quickly unstrapped his belt, tossing it on the ground.

As you caressed yourself, Joshua's control shattered. His pants hit the floor moments before he closed the distance between you, his hands finding your wrists, gently drawing them away from your body.

"No," he said breathlessly. "Let me."

In that moment, all rational thought faded away, replaced only by sensation and heat. The feeling of him pressing his cock against your slit, sent shivers through your body, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for him to fully enter you.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart." Joshua commands.

You tried to focus on his gaze as he entered you, but the sensation of his size stretching you was overwhelming. Your eyes rolled back slightly, the pleasure and slight twinge of pain sending your mind to another multiverse.

With every slow and sharp rock of his hips, your whole body trembled, the sensations overwhelming. Joshua's moans echoed through the room as he held your gaze, the heat between you intensifying with each moment. Feeling him fight to hold back, to prolong the moment, ignited a fire within you.

As you clenched and unclenched around him, his expression grew more and more strained, the struggle to hold back evident in his gritted teeth and sweaty face.

"Is it good Joshua?" You ask between gasps and thrusts.

You watched as his eyes closed, his expression contorting with the effort to hold on for you, a tortured groan escaping his throat.

"Yes–," he managed to gasp out, the word leaving his lips in a rush of breath. "It's so good, so good. I can't–"

You knew the pleasure he was experiencing was immense, his body trembling as he fought to maintain control for your sake.

Each time you clenched around him, his body tensed in response, the feeling of him inside you driving him closer and closer to the edge.

Joshua's eyes met yours as you felt a sudden surge of moisture between your folds, his expression shifting from a mixture of ecstasy to amazement. "You're so wet," he gasped, his voice dripping with desire. 

He increased his pace, his gaze never leaving yours, his hands finding purchase on your hips. His grip was firm, as if pulling you closer only deepened the pleasure. 

The sounds of flesh against flesh echoing in the room, as your hands roamed over his chest, needing something to anchor you in the waves of sensation. 

His thumb finds your sensitive bud again, a wave of pleasure washes over you, making your entire body convulse beneath him. You curse, writhing helplessly as he continues to tease and caress you, pushing you closer to the edge. Your voice is a breathy mix of pleasure and desire, the only words leaving your lips a pleading, "Don't stop."

With a swift move, he turns you, your body now braced against the table, and then, he thrust into you again, the table scraping against the floor as he pulls your hair roughly. 

Joshua's grip on your hair tightened as he pulled your head back, exposing your neck to his kisses. 

A strangled moan escaped your lips as your breath came in pants, the intensity building with each passing moment, as if you could feel him deeper from this angle.

His cock finds the spot, and you sobbed, the sensation almost overwhelming, and he chuckled softly against your skin, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Is this it?" he whispered, his words husky and seductive. "I think I found it." 

Each time he repeated the motion, you could only gasp out a choked, "Yes!"

You felt him hit against that sensitive spot again and again, each time eliciting a sharp gasp or moan from your parted lips. He knew exactly where to touch you, his touch teasing and expert.

With each hit of that spot, your legs trembled, threatening to give out completely and your body went limp. A mixture of pleasure and pain surged through you, your tears mixing with the sensations as he roughly grasped your hair. "Don't hold back," he muttered, his voice low and full of need. "Let me hear you."

"Joshua," you gasped between sobs and moans, his name a broken plea on your lips. your body had lost all control, helpless against the torrent of sensations and his masterful touch. "J-Joshua," you gasped, your voice breaking. "Please... I can't... I'm going to..."

Your words ended in a strangled groan, the intensity of the pleasure too much. You felt yourself clench around him, your body beginning to unravel, pushed over the edge by his relentless pace. "Oh god–" you managed to gasp out, your nails digging into the table.

And then it hits you, waves of ecstasy crashing over you like a tidal wave, drowning out all coherent thought. You arched your back, head thrown back as you cried out, the intensity overwhelming. 

Your pussy tightened around him, drawing him closer to cum as well.

Through it all, Joshua held you, one hand steadying your hips while the other still gripped your hair, grounding you through the storm of pleasure. He rode out the waves with you, his own breath growing ragged as he fought to hold back his own release.

The tears fell faster now, blurring your vision as you lost yourself to the raw lust and desire. Your body convulsed and trembled as you whispered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He loosened his grip on your hair as you sagged against the table, and you nearly fell forward onto the table face-first. Joshua steadied you quickly, supporting you with one strong arm while he turned you to sit on the table. He gathered you, holding you close in a soothing embrace, allowing you to catch your breath.

''Take your time. I've got you." he murmured softly as he caressed your scalp.

You finally managed to find your voice, albeit somewhat raspy and breathless. "Joshua," you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze. "You know your friends will be wondering what's taking so long."

"Let them wonder," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of humor. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle. "I'm in no rush to leave. Besides, I'm far more interested in tending to your needs than worrying about them."

You chuckle.

Joshua chuckled softly, still holding you close. "They'll be fine," he said, "What's a few more minutes?" 

As if on cue, a sudden knock sounded on your door, followed by the sound of a familiar voice. "Joshua? You in there, man?"

[arieslost]

MIAMI | ln4

summary: lando won for the first time :))

word count: 834

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

you feel like you’re in a dream. walking on sunshine. on cloud nine. all the good, amazing things in the world.

lando has won his first ever grand prix. his first career win. right in front of your eyes.

in all honesty, it feels like you’re floating. you can’t imagine how he must be feeling as the team comes rushing out of the garage to meet him as he parks the car in front of the first place banner.

“come with me!” zak says the moment he catches up to you from the pit wall, immediately reaching for your hand so he can help you navigate your way through the crowd. “he needs to see you front and center!”

you don’t think that’s necessarily true, that he would certainly rather see the team and catch up with you afterwards, but you’ve learned not to argue with zak. you just hold on tight and allow him to guide you to the front of the barrier separating everyone from the top three finishers and their cars.

your throat quickly grows hoarse from cheering as he proudly stands atop the car, and you can’t even hear yourself over the cheers of everyone else around you and in the grandstands.

you would happily go deaf in this moment, because the sound of hundreds of thousands of people cheering for your boyfriend would be the last thing ringing in your ears. if you dreamt this moment up, it wouldn’t even sound this good.

you’re quick to take out your phone and record as lando gives himself a running start to leap across the barrier entirely and into the waiting arms of the mclaren team, who immediately swarm around him, hugging him and patting him excitedly. at some point he gets flipped around, everyone’s hands supporting him from below so the world can see the beaming smile on his face.

you don’t know when they started, but you can feel the tears on your cheeks as he’s placed back on his feet on the other side of the barrier. he’s pulled into enthusiastic hugs by a few more team members, and then he starts calling your name, eyes frantically searching for you amongst the sea of papaya.

“lan!” you yell as loudly as you can, pressing yourself right up against the barrier and leaning forward.

he spots you from over zak’s shoulder as they embrace, his smile somehow growing impossibly wider the moment your eyes meet. your happy tears begin to fall even faster after he hugs andrea and immediately makes a beeline for you.

all the words you want to say to him get stuck in your throat as you throw your arms around his neck. he’s sweaty, but so are you, courtesy of the miami heat, and neither of you care. you yelp in surprise when you feel his arms go around your waist and lift.

“what are you doing?!” you laugh, clinging onto him with all your might regardless.

“i’m not gonna have a fucking barrier between us when i do this,” is all he offers as an explanation before he’s kissing you, cupping your face with one hand and holding the other above his head, his pointer finger extended up to the sky.

you don’t see it in the moment, of course, but you’ll see plenty of pictures of it later.

you kiss him back with equal fervor. it’s definitely not the most perfect kiss; you’re crying and he can’t stop smiling so your teeth knock together a couple times, but that doesn’t dim the passion between you both as you hold each other. the crowd chanting his name fades into background noise when you break apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours.

“i love you,” he says, over and over. “i love you, i love you. i’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“lan, i’m so proud of you,” you’re in hysterics, laughing as tears continue to fall down your face even while he gently wipes them away. “you deserve this. every single second.”

“i love you so, so much. thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his words so sincere that you could fall to the ground right here and now.

“stop making me cry more!” you exclaim, hands covering his as you reach up to wipe your eyes. “don’t you have the top step of a podium to get to?”

“can i bring you with me?”

“absolutely not,” you giggle, pulling him into another tight hug.

“alright, but i told will to get you on his shoulders so i can see you perfectly while i’m up there.”

it doesn’t click in your head why he would bother telling you that until you’re on will’s shoulders and lando is spraying his champagne down at you from the top step with surprising accuracy. and when he finds you after it’s all over and kisses you again, you decide that champagne is your new favorite taste in the whole world.

note: i don’t even care that i’m posting this late or if this sucks it doesn’t matter it needs to be posted today !!

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Housewife!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Simon has gotten in earlier than either of you expected, but instead of letting you know he doesn’t call, doesn’t text. There are other thoughts on his mind that cloud his judgment and the last thing he thinks about is wasting time focusing on messing with his phone when showing up back home is infinitely better. He’s excited to be back, chomping at the bit to get back his girl as he’s been missing you something terrible. Now that he’s back on home turf, that longing to see you again is only getting worse by the second.  

You had told him your plan for today: you wanted to make his homecoming right by cooking him a nice meal for the two of you as a celebration since he’s been gone for quite a while this round. The gesture is sweet and Simon is getting hungry… the only problem is that it isn’t for food.

He reiterates to himself on the drive back about the promise that he made to you that he would be on his best behavior today. All this trouble you are going to, he wants to be sure to show his appreciation by enjoying the hard work you’ve put in to prepare a dinner of all his favorite things and he plans to keep it by not letting his yearnings get out of hand…at least that is what he hopes.

By the time he pulls up to the house he is over two hours early from when he was meant to land and his pulse is racing as he parks on the driveway. Just a short distance more and he’s back in the company he’s been craving like crazy.

His key clicks in the lock and as he opens the door to his house he is hit by the sights and sounds of familiarity that instantly put him at ease. There are reminders of you everywhere, little touches that make this a place of comfort he looks forward to coming back to after being away. It is the sound of music echoing from the kitchen that urges him to continue forward after he shuts the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. He sets his gear down by the door and creeps silently through the house, the metallic clangs of pots and utensils underneath the music now becoming more prominent as he reaches the source. 

And there you are.

The pupils of those caramel brown eyes dilate as you come into view; it has been too long since the object of his desire was standing right in front of him and fuck, do you look good. He watches you transfixed on the grace of your movements, unwavering gaze following the motions of your body as you go about the kitchen popping from the stove to the countertop singing along with the song playing over the bluetooth speakers. 

This is it, this is his little piece of heaven on earth, his oasis safe from the chaos that is his daily life, his sunshine that pierces through the darkness that clouds his thoughts, and she’s wearing his t-shirt. And only his t-shirt with your panties.

How the hell can you make something so simple look like perfection? He could very well be biased because he only has ever had eyes for you, but fuck your beauty could pull off anything. 

This right here is what keeps him going, knowing that this is what he will come home to.

He pulls his phone from out of his pocket and promptly snaps a picture, wanting to capture this innocent moment of carefree beauty that you exude now that you are alone in your own little world: humming happily to yourself, flitting about the kitchen, his baggy shirt randomly clinging to different curves as you move, your hair tied back into a low ponytail. 

In that moment, looking like you do, he wants you so bad it hurts. Your figure is only a few feet away from his grasp and yet his body is aching in pain still being this far. He has to be wrapped around you and it has to be right now. Moving with haste he pulls off his mask and gloves and discards them on the ground, removing any sign of Ghost so that he cannot taint his sweet thing with the unsavory dealings of his alter ego. He can’t wait, those lips and hands have to be on you the second they can.

Just as you go to stir the pot of vegetables bubbling away on the stove, the music cuts out abruptly and a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist from behind, lacing themselves across the middle of your stomach. You jump, not expecting anyone to be against you, but as soon as your eyes catch that forearm full of familiar tattoos you settle. He’s home, that’s all that matters and those nerves that have been brewing inside your chest all day turn into delicious flutters as those large hands begin to roam across your body.

The old familiar curves call to him, beckoning him to travel their paths once again. Who is he to deny them? He does not even wait as his hands paw over your stomach and hips, those large, exploratory hands taking the curves of your body into their embrace over the t-shirt until his grip is so full he can’t contain any more. 

“You’re early,” you say through a smile as you settle back into him, head resting against his shoulder. 

The warmth from his breath is at the edge of your ear as he moves his face in closer while his hands wander with purpose. His lips are ghosting themselves near the delicate skin of your earlobe teasingly until he has you squirming in his arms. "Woulda called, just wanted to get home as fast as I fuckin’ could," he groans as he tightens his grip around you to cause your back to form into the contours of his taut chest. “Had a craving for somethin’ sweet.” 

Pulling up the t-shirt just enough he moves under it with those large hands, splaying them across your soft flesh around your waist, your hips, your stomach as he takes your earlobe in his teeth to nibble at it playfully until it sends shivers down your spine.

“I missed ya, baby,” he says desperately against the side of your head.

"I missed you too," you return. 

The longer he plays up under the shirt, the more your sanity wanes. His touch is ecstasy and after not having it for so long, it is hard to not immediately succumb to its bliss. He’s barely even begun and you are already falling apart; if this keeps up you’ll never finish what you have started on the stove. 

"I wish you would have called,” you say, trying to break the spell, “cause I wanted everything to be done before you got home. I’m not ready, I’m not even dressed. I wanted this to be perfect." 

His lips move from your earlobe and start just below your jaw, making the connection against your skin over and again along the line of your jugular as he descends down your neck with kisses. He pauses against the vein there as his lips pick up the thudding as it pulses under his touch. The more his mouth lingers, the quicker it gets. 

With a smile he nuzzles his nose into your skin as his nostrils fill with your scent; the fragrance fills his head and it feels like he is being consumed. “Don’t need to get dressed,” his words breeze over your neck and down your chest, “ya look perfect just like this. How could I ask for anythin’ more?”

Simon takes the spoon out of your hand and rests it on the counter so that he can turn you around to face him; that stoic military officer is yearning to look into the face of the beauty he hasn't seen in far too fucking long. Meeting your gaze for the first time in months is akin to a contact high and immediately he is out of his goddamn mind as your eyes lock to his.

You are struggling just as badly. It is always a struggle not to miss him like crazy when he’s gone and now that he is back there is so much time to make up for. And the way he looks as he stands here in front of you, hands around your hips, isn’t helping. The universe knew what they were doing when they put Simon together and even though the black around his eyes is already smugged and his crinkled blonde hair is pressed down from being under his balaclava, the sight of him still makes your stomach flip. You are transfixed and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Brown eyes trail down your features to take you all in, drinking up every gorgeous facet of your face as his hands move to cup around the sides of your head like the frame around a work of art. Those eyes that light up whenever they look at him, that sweet mouth always ready with a smile, those soft cheeks glowing whenever he touches you, all of it a unique perfection that he cannot get enough of. Finally his sight lands on your mouth and as if drawn by an overwhelming urge he is compelled to move in.

He has to kiss you; it is suddenly unbearable that he still hasn’t tasted you yet. 

Leaning into your face he gives your lips a peck to test that they still feel the same as he remembers. Pulling back, he catches the sparkle in your eyes that tells him to do that again and he is ready to oblige. Then he steals another and another at an increasing pace until his mouth smashes against yours and latches on, drawing you in as he deepens the connection. 

His tongue meets yours and shoves its way past the barrier of your lips and into the confines of your mouth as he tastes you. Everything comes flooding back all at once and he is overtaken by all that familiarity. The longer the connection lasts the more he loses himself until he is panting into you, sharing one sticky, hot bit of air as his features shape themselves around your own to make your faces become one.

The thick stubble outlining his jaw abrades the skin of your cheeks and around your lips, making your face sting, but you don't want him to pull away. Not yet, not when his lips are making your mind hazy and your limbs tremble as all that tension that has been building for days as you wait for his return bubbles over the surface. 

His desperation is showing as his dick digs itself into your upper thigh, pulsing and throbbing the harder it gets until you cannot ignore it. Each heavy breath pushes his bulky chest against yours until you can feel his rapid pulse rushing angrily through his veins as his heartbeat pounds. 

"You’re gonna be the death ‘a me," he says quietly under his breath as he cannot think of anything else to say in that moment; his mind is too absorbed in the way your kiss is like heaven and he is succumbing to the feeling of it. “I know I said I’d wait til later, but I don’t think I can, sweetheart. It’s been hell without ya.”

At this rate Simon isn’t going to make it to dinner and you’re so close to being done, but maybe there is something you can do to sate him long enough that you can get through this. With a bit of struggle you break the kiss and pull away as he desperately tries to wrangle you back in so that you have to place your hand on his chest to get him to pause.

Giving Simon’s lower lip one last quick nip you slowly lower yourself to your knees before him, your fingers lacing into the leather of his belt as you fiddle with the buckle. “Then how about I give you a little something to keep you satisfied til dinner’s over?” you suggest as you look up at him with those pretty doe-eyes. “Something to make you feel better?” 

His chest heaves up and down with each laborious breath he takes as you jump into unhooking the metal of his buckle and pulling the leather through until the belt hangs loosely around his hips. Your fingers slide down the zipper, but before you can do more his hands press yours into place along the lower portion of his pelvis so that you can’t keep undressing him.

“Ya don’t have to do this,” he mildly protests. Simon knows if you don’t stop he isn’t going to be able to either and this dinner is going to take a detour, though he can’t lie that he wants you to keep going. 

Giving you a look, he waits to see if you stand back up, but you only smile as you pull your hands back out from underneath his. “I want to do this for you, baby,” you reassure, lifting the bottom of his shirt and leaning in to kiss along the light colored patch of hair that trails down into his boxers as you finish undoing his pants. 

How in the hell is someone supposed to resist this? Simon is strong, he would not have gotten far in life if he wasn’t, but not this strong. You reach the waistband of his underwear with your lips and meet the seam with your fingers to pull them down under his ass low enough that you can release his thick, fat cock.

He is hard already, the tip swollen and angry, and the veins running through it visibly throbbing. The inside of your mouth salivates as it remembers the feeling of being stuffed with that girthy appendage. You keep the spit gathered on your tongue as you lean in and open your lips.

Taking the tip of your tongue you trace the head of his cock as your hand at the base keeps his foreskin pulled back. A breathy moan rumbles out from somewhere deep inside his chest, low and guttural as his hips buck and his ass hits into the ledge of the kitchen counter, making his belt jingle from the movement.

“Fuck,” he chokes out as his head falls back and his eyelids momentarily close. “Forgot how that pretty mouth feels ‘round me.”

He can feel a tightening around him as your lips contort into a smile, excited that you can still make that big ol boy come undone with something as simple as your mouth. Clearly he has been just as worked up as you have been for him to get home. As Simon settles back against the countertop with his palm on your cheek, his thumb lovingly strokes the corner of your full mouth as you continue on.

Your lips around him, wet and messy, suck him in until his cock reaches the threshold of your throat. Those pretty eyes of yours lift back up to look into his face, keeping contact as you choke around him, vision swimming with tears while your head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm. Your lips are bright red and swollen from his kiss, your cheeks blossoming with heated color, that lust-drunk look plastered on your face; it all makes up the gorgeous picture. The visual makes his blood pressure rise until his limbs are vibrating with the racing beats of his heart. 

The slurping sounds of your saliva-filled mouth being fucked is punctuated by sparse gags; it hasn’t been this full for a while and it’s going to take some getting used to. Still, you don’t slow your pace, even as his hips begin thrusting against your face the longer you go. It’s like you’d rather suck him off than breathe and goddamn is that a turn-on. 

Simon releases your cheek so that he can rest his hands on the counter behind him. He hasn’t had you like this in so long that it doesn’t take much to overwhelm him now. That pressure deep inside is building to its peak, drawing his body to the edge of its release with each pass of your mouth over him from as far down the base as you can reach back to the tip. His hands grip hard into the surface behind him until his knuckles turn white.

Shit, he is going to come just like he knows you want, but it is at that moment that he realizes that he doesn’t want to just take this quick blow job and be done with you until later. Simon needs you, all of you, under his touch and at his disposal right this fucking second. Suddenly he is pulling out of your mouth and situating his cock back into the confines of his pants as you stare up at him with your head tilted in confusion. 

“What’s…” you start to ask, but before the words can even leave your lips you are being pulled to your feet. He doesn’t say a word as he wipes away a bit of spittle that has dripped from the corner of your mouth, using his thumb to remove it before he kisses you full force again. 

It's too much, too strong an all consuming feeling to stop and so without warning he pulls from you and throws you over his broad shoulder to carry you out of the room in a rush. He is frantic; he needs to have you now and can’t wait to drag you all the way to the bedroom. No, it’s too far.

Scanning around him as his aroused brain tries to find the fastest solution, he spots it. The dining table that you’ve set special for tonight is just a few feet away and he instantly brings you over to it. Dishes clank and clatter, ceramic and glass hitting itself as he hurriedly shoves everything out of his way to make room for your body before setting you on the surface.

"I know you’re not done cookin’, but I’m hungry for somethin' else," he breathes as he sets you down and lays you back. “I need ya now…waited too long for this.”

The movement has caused your shirt to get pulled up off your stomach and the uncovered area catches his eye; more skin that he desperately needs to claim and now. He brushes his fingertips down across your waist and over your navel, past to your lower abdomen until he lightly grazes the seam of your panties. He can feel the goosebumps forming under his touch and he can hear the hitch in your breathing the lower he gets. 

Reaching your sex he cups his wide palm over the mound and applies pressure. It is warm to the touch and he can feel it radiate into his hand. You buck against him, squirming at the unexpected sensitivity with a gasp. All that softness of your body, so delicate to the touch like silk against his skin, it’s too much for him to handle. Simon has had months and months of only rough, coarse, and rugged things from the brutal environment he was forced to endure, but the moment his fingers grace across all that balmy flesh his brain short-circuits.

It’s not just your looks that drive him wild, though. You are the one bit of happiness he keeps separate from the brutality of his work, the sanctuary that he looks forward to coming home to, the calm in his stormy existence. That's why he suggested he take care of the money so you could stay at home, not bother yourself with working, so that the harsh world wouldn't taint your sweet demeanor with its cruelty. And in return you take care of his life, never asking for anything as you make sure everything here runs smoothly.

"You're always takin’ care a me, makin' sure that everything is perfect when I get back home," he says as he gets more worked up. "Now it's my turn to return the favor. Goddammit, I just wanna screw the hell outta my pretty girl until she can’t move."

Firm hands cup against your hips as his fingertips slip between your panties and your warm skin, tangling them in the fabric so that he can pull them down your thighs and off your legs. Your bare petals faintly glisten as he gets a peak at them through the tight space between your legs, a product of his minimal touch already working on your body; nice to know he still has that effect on you no matter how much time you’ve spent apart. He slides his hands between your thighs, parting them easily as a knife in warm butter, until his hand is deep enough that he can stop and separate them so that the gap is wide and his body can easily fit in between.

"All this for me?” he asks as he stares like an animal starved at your pussy, mouth salivating to play. "Bet you’ve been achin’ somethin’ terrible since I left. Do ya need me ta fix that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.Your body is radiating with the intensity of every sensation that courses through your limbs like an electrical current everywhere Simon touches you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he glides his hand up so his fingers can part through the lips of your pussy.

Two of those thick fingers slide between the petals of your sex towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can on his digits. Carefully he teases them around the rim of your core, circling it through the dampness gathering in your slit. “One or two?” he asks as your back arches off the table, the stimulation driving you to the brink of insanity; it’s been too long since you’ve felt his fingers there.

You swallow hard. “T-two,” you beg. At this point, any amount will work as long as they are his and as long as they get inside you.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I like ta hear,” he praises as he aligns his fingers with your opening and slowly fits those two long fingers inside and up into you. “Fuck, there ya go. Just breathe for me, that’s it. Let your body do all the work and take ‘em in.”

They slip up further into your cunt and with a slow pace he begins to pump in and out of you while the overwhelming pressure causes you to arch your back up off the table. Instinctively, your hips buck against his hand, trying to make as much contact with him as possible. 

Those long, coarse fingers curl inside you continuously as his heavy palm rests over top of your sex to put pressure so that he can make more contact and cause more friction with your G spot as his thumb nestles against your clit. Your body writhes against the table, your head falling back with eyes closed as the twinges of pleasure spring up your spine and Simon is grinning from ear to ear to see he still knows how to work his sweetheart just the way she likes.

As he watches you fall apart to the stroking of his fingers, from the corner of sight he catches it: that bounce at the top of your torso under the shirt. It’s as if he suddenly remembers about those beautiful breasts as they rebound with his strokes and out of a drunken haze he is consumed by the need to see them.

Pushing the bottom of your shirt up over your chest, it’s revealed that you don’t have on a bra and his breath hitches to see those perky tits he’s been dreaming of burying his face in staring right back at him. Fuck, he can’t stop himself from getting at all that juicy meat and quickly he leans over you with a groan from the table so that he can reach you with his mouth. Lightly he grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of your nipple to make the little bud grow hard under the sharp contact.

"Oh God, Simon," his name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer.

The sweet sound of his name being spoken in such a desperate way only spurns him on; he needs to hear it as many times as he can make you repeat it, especially after not being able to hear it at all while he was gone. "Say it again," he demands, never lifting his face from your breasts, just switching sides periodically to get them both engaged.

His tongue flicks at the hardened nipple and it makes you whimper as the stimulation runs down your body like liquid fire until you can feel its effects radiating in your clit each time his thumb strokes over it. You know that he wants you to say his name again, but you don’t know if you can. It’s too much stimulation that you are losing your ability to speak.  

"Simon," you say as your voice shakes.  

His hum of satisfaction vibrates through the tissue of your breast. "Again," he repeats firmly before drawing it fully into his mouth. Latching on he takes as much of your breast as he can fit and sucks down hard. 

“S-simon,” your desperate voice clumsily moans. 

Tiny beads of sweat form along the line of your body as it burns with the intensity of the ecstasy you feel under his expert care. He’s in your head, in the very marrow of your bones; there isn’t a part of you that isn’t consumed by him. Those rough fingers grinding away into your pussy and his mouth on your body all pail in comparison to the way his kiss had felt on your lips. That desperate, consuming, overwhelming kiss is your drug and you need another hit.

Your fingers lace into his short hair and you tug hard to pull him from your chest, only then does he unlatch himself from your breast as you guide him back up to your mouth. Simon’s lips are nearly raw and yet he takes yours as roughly as he had in the kitchen, never slowing the pace of his finger fucking. 

It’s like liquid fire, your kiss, and he sucks down with a hunger that cannot be quenched. The sound of your sloppy lips match the wet slaps currently being produced between your legs. Simon is drunk as his mouth takes and takes and takes, and yet… 

His mouth craves more, another set of lips.

The pad of his tongue makes contact with your clit and you jolt, making the table creak as the over-stimulation sends shock waves through your needy body. You can feel the sigh he releases against you as he begins to suck on the nodule of pleasure while flicking it with his tongue; it’s hard to think amongst the staggering overstimulation is leaving you begging and pleading for mercy.

Simon pulls from you amidst your whined protests to drop to his knees before you, giving those thick thighs his attention. His face comes level with your pussy that is absolutely soaked from the work of his fingers and raising your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, he dives in. Instantly his face is buried in your heat and as he brushes his tongue through your slit his mouth is filled with your nectar, that tangy burst of flavor that he can not get enough of. It is slathering all over the lower half of his face, coating him from his nose to his chin in the scent of your arousal.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and then release. “I can’t…I-I can’t…” you murmur as you try to move from him.

His mouth releases from you. “Yes, yes ya can, baby. Now, come on my face,” he says fiercely as he grips into the muscle of your hips with all his strength, secures you to his sharp features, and dives right back in like a man starved. 

“F-f-fuck,” you groan as your hands seize the tablecloth in your fists, that coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach tighter with each flick of his tongue. 

Feverish movements against that erogenous button are no longer controlled as he devours all he can, forcing your body towards that ledge to throw you off into ecstasy. He craves it, burns for it, and would die for it: the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your hips writhe against his advances, it all makes him rabid.

As your breath grows shorter and shorter, he knows it's not far; just a bit more suffocation on his part and you will be done in. He moves his face down to tease your hole with his tongue as his nose takes over on your clit. You are so hot it feels like someone has set you on fire as the knot in your stomach gathers to its breaking point. It’s there, right there within reach; just a little more and you are going to come hard and he’ll get his wish. 

Those desperate whimpers quiet all of a sudden and he knows it’s happening; with a few more flicks of his tongue you plunge off the edge with a cry as your thighs clamp down tight around his ears so that he is blocked against you, but that is exactly what he wants. Those seconds after your orgasm shakes through you are his favorite: you writhing uncontrollably over him as he continues to stroke his tongue through you until that high has finally worn off.

Nothing has ever felt better and after not having this for months, it is pure heaven.

It isn’t until you settle down and your legs open back up that he emerges with his face covered in the sticky juices of your cum and his saliva. He is grinning like he has just been given a present, even as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before wiping the slick on his t-shirt.

“Fuckin’ fantastic as always, baby,” he breathes. “But I ain’t done with ya yet. I think we can get at least one more orgasm from ya right now. Come ‘ere.”

He helps your weak body to sit up on the edge of the table to embrace your lips, hoping to reinvigorate you to keep going with the intensity of his desire. You can taste yourself in his kiss, a mixture of sweet and salty that combines with his natural tang to become the flavor of your union. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds, but after just being made to come the exhaustion makes it feel like a lifetime… not that you are complaining.

Pulling from you, he tugs at the crotch of his pants; he can’t wait anymore. “I need ya ta get up and turn ‘round, sweet thing,” he says, guiding you up and rotating you around before pushing you back down onto the table, this time on your stomach. “Gotta get inside. Need ta fill ya.”

The sound of metal jingles as he lowers his pants as his knee pushes against your inner thigh to spread you wider. He releases his cock again and squats down lower so that he can align the tip with your entrance. You can feel it press through the swollen lips of your pussy and you ready yourself for that moment when you’ll be split open.

He can already feel your dampness on his cock as he guides it through and without hesitation he grabs your hips and thrusts inside all the way down to the very base of his cock. Simon instantly bottoms out and needs a second to collect himself; it’s been too fucking long since he’s been inside you and if he isn’t careful he is going to come to quick for him. 

Those rough fingers dig in deeper to your hips as he tries to hold on for dear life. “Goddammit, baby,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

His girth stretches your core wide to its limit so that the walls of your cunt can’t help but feel every single detail of his cock: every enlarged vein, the exact curve of it, each and every crease.

It’s like he’s imprinting it with his signature, letting your pussy know that the one it belongs to is home once again.

Hips begin to rock slowly at first and are immediately punctuated by deep-throated groans as he cannot keep himself calm for long no matter how hard he tries. Your body is too much like paradise, so devastatingly amazing that even though he is desperately clawing at his sanity it is slipping through his fingers faster and faster with each thrust like sand in a sieve. Pulling almost completely out of you he slams back into your core down to the base, repeating this over and over with a ferocity that only gets worse. 

Your body rocks, breasts bouncing and bunching the tablecloth as you are pressed into the surface; you can only moan as the uncomfortable fullness becomes euphorically intoxicating. The table squeaks and strains against each plunge of him deeper into your pussy, threatening to break under the force at any second. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor as they are knocked off and yet you do not care. He will just replace them anyway so there is no sense to take yourself out of the moment to worry about it. 

"Ya look so fuckin' pretty with my cock buried in ya," he grunts. "My sweet girl, my good little wife, always keepin' my balls empty. How'd I get so goddamn lucky to marry someone so good, yeah?"

Desperately he grinds harder and harder into you as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill you full enough. The recoil of your ass as he pounds into you from behind is something he can’t pull his sight from even if he wants to. He is mesmerized, watching himself disappear into the confines of your body only to reemerge more coated in your juices than when he went in. 

“I want ta feel ya pulse around me each letter of my name,” he says as his hand runs down the length of your spine. “Come on, baby, let me fuckin’ feel it.”

You follow his command and flex the muscles in your pelvis. Ten letters isn’t that much, not for him; you do it all for him, anything he asks, anything he needs because you know that he is just as whipped for you as you are for him and this is the way to keep him coming back like a good little pup.

He’s panting like a bitch in heat behind you. “That’s it, fuck, just as that.”

So wet, so tight, the pulsing, the throbbing, the speckles of sweat covering your bodies, his hands grabbing at skin, your hips grinding into him… it’s all too much. “Keep going,” you beg with a shudder. “Fuck, Simon right there.”

You can feel him hitting that sensitive spot inside, his cock pounding over it at the perfect angle, and your limbs tingle as the second coming is fast approaching. There is only one man who can make you come multiple times and it is and always has been your husband. And now his complete possession of your body is almost finished.

“Come on, my pretty girl, gimme another,” he urges enthusiastically as he hears your whimpers get louder while your body trembles. “I know ya have another for me and I fuckin’ want it.”

He pounds into you as if his life is dependent on your orgasm and you steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the tabletop. The pressure builds and builds, a scourge to your sanity until all at once that bolt of hot electricity shoots through your limbs and your head falls forward with a whine as your second orgasm rockets through you so hard that you are left a mewling mess.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Simon growls as he finally allows himself to let go and all that build up, all that pining, all that longing for this moment comes to a head and with a few more hard, deep strokes inside your spasming pussy he too comes undone.

A roar rips through his chest as he pulls out and comes across your back, stroking his hand over his cock until he can milk himself dry. You close your eyes, laying your head down as he finishes and grabs a napkin that sits on the table above your head to wipe the cum off. His limbs feel heavy as he sits you back upright to face him. 

Simon simply stares into your face for a while, letting you both just work to catch your breaths. There are no words that need be said, not between you both. Once he is more calm, he gently pushes a strand of hair off your glistening face and tucks it behind your ear.  

“Ya did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says sweetly, placing a softer kiss on your lips as his heart slows. 

“Always for you,” you return with a smile against his lips. 

As you both stand there in the midst of the afterglow of your euphoria, a smell begins to waft in from the kitchen. It is unmistakably the scent of something burning. You poke your head around him just to be sure there isn’t a fire on the stove before turning back to his face.

“I hope you like your food burnt cause that’s what we’re gonna be having now,” you laugh as he pulls you back in for one more kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“Guess its a good fuckin’ thing I filled up on the first course then,” he says as you tut in fake exasperation. He lowers his voice. “But ya know… if the food’s ruined, maybe we should just go ta bed.”

Something about the way he says it and the glint in his eye as you pull back, it doesn’t sound like you are going to be sleeping anything off.

[marvelstan0905]

Helloooo can you please write one where Ken is just stressed his practices and barely has time with reader and their baby girl so reader surprises him by taking their bby to watch hin practice and the entire time their baby is just giggling and cheering him on?

"Sunshine in the dark"

Husband!Kenji Sato X Wife!Reader [Oneshot]

TW : petnames/fluff/mentions of overwhelm, sadness and guilt/Emi mention/Kenji's mom mention/not proofread yet/mixed POV

Note : Here you go! Hope you enjoy it! Thank you for the love and support!❤️

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Swing. Strike. Swing. Strike again. At this point Kenji had been out more times than he could count. His head was everywhere and he felt like he was pulled in numerous directions. The guilt and overwhelming feelings that drowned him where far too immense for Kenji. He couldn't even think of a time when he spent a full day, a whole 24 hours with his wife and beautiful baby girl, d/n. Kenji's little princess was so small, just months old and his mind was eating him for not being there for every single moment of her growth. That was only the cherry on the cake. His mother was still not found. All this Ultraman stuff was dragging him further down. Kaiju alerts left and right. Even if Emi was in a far better place and with her birth mom, Kenji couldn't help but worry from time. That was his baby as well. Then his passion, a reason for a smile on his face was going downhill as well. Baseball, God. Kenji felt like he was sleeping on the field. He was losing plays left and right. He couldn't get much sleep because of his own worrying and the Kaiju alerts which were increasing day by day. Along with that, he was doing his best to be a good husband and father. Trying to change and feed the baby at night, help his wife so she can rest as well but it felt like he was more of a problem than solution to his family.

"Goddammit! You're Ken Sato! The Ken Sato! Hit the ball! Hit the ball!" Kenji roared in frustration as he slammed the bat into the ground before picking it up. As the simulation of an old ball park surrounded Kenji, another ball was picthed and he missed once again. In complete frustration he slammed his knee into the bat. Instantly regretting it, he groaned from the pain and grumbled. "Of course. You're being so stupid, Kenji"

"Go Kenji!"

"You can do it, sweetheart! Just breathe!"

"Dada!"

Kenji immediately whipped his heads towards the stands to his beautiful wife, his daughter and his mother. All three of his favorite girls. Even if one was a simulation. It made Kenji's heart skip a beat and flutter in happiness. His baby daughter, sat on his wife's lap clapping and giggling. The infant finding joy in just seeing her father. Those little joys even made Kenji's frustration dissipate. Even for a moment. With a grin, you leaned to kiss your daughter's head.

"C'mon, princess. Say 'Go daddy'" I gently coaxed my daughter whiles she cooed and babbled. D/n just clapped and giggled calling out for her father with endless joy. Kenji's eyes brimmed with tears. This small moment, this joy meant the world to him. It was just what he needed. His sunshine in the dark.

Even so the simulation of his mother sitting right next his daughter and wife was all he needed. With a quick wipe to his cheeks, Kenji readied himself.

Batter up. Ichi. Ni. San. Ball!

With all his might, Kenji swung and finally hit the ball. The ball disappeared into the landscape of the simulation as Kenji dropped the bat and felt so refreshed. This small win. This trivial achievement. It was..everything to Kenji. At this very moment, he just needed this.

"YAY! GO KENJI!" I cheered for my husband. The simulation of his mother followed in suite urging him to run. Kenji went towards the stands and picked up his daughter. With a spin around, he peppered her face in kisses before running three bases with her safely tucked in his arms. At the very last stretch, just three quarters in from the third to home base, Kenji put his tiny princess down and held her hands tight. "That's it! You're almost there!"

"Come on, little one. You can make the home run for daddy!" Kenji encouraged his daughter who giggled. D/n held onto her daddy's index fingers and with his support she waddled towards home base. With some falls and babbles on frustration, she finally got there. Kenji couldn't help but think of Emi when his baby daughter finally made the home run.

"Home run! Let's go D/n!" I shouted from the stands. My daughter giggled and smiled brightly not even knowing what she was being praised for. Blissfully unaware of the impact her bright smile had on Kenji. "Well done, baby! You did Kenji!"

"There's my girl! Well done, princess" Kenji praised his tiny girl and picked her up holding her tight and kissing her tiny face. D/n clung to her father and nestled into his affection.

"Thank you." Kenji murmured as his cheek pressed against hus daughter's soft hair. Thank you to his wife, his daughter and..of course his mother. He really needed this.

[randombush3]

busco lo de antes

alexia putellas x reader

prologue, que te quiero

summary: you wake up but you're not sure where

words: 5200

content warnings: brief mention of alcoholism

notes: i realised halfway through this that everyone's name (bar eli) begins with an 'a'. bit stupid of me tbh

The day you leave the hospital begins with the man in the bed beside you dying. Bodies surround him, first to save his life, then to remove him from the ward, and, after that, you are no longer dreading the thought of returning home. 

Home. That might not be the word for it. 

Alexia picks you up, all tentative questions and awkward smiles, and walks you to a shining Cupra that looks just as futuristic as the iPhone she takes out to show the nurses something or other. You want to ask about it but figure it’ll make her turn that pale shade she goes whenever she remembers you’re not quite you. 

“Where’s Amaia?” you ask to distract yourself from the ache of your ribs where the cracks haven’t healed. The seatbelt of the car presses against the bruises on your chest, a stark reminder of what happened the last time you sat in a vehicle like this, but you can’t recall any of it and therefore it is almost like it never happened. 

“School,” Alexia replies quietly, as though she is afraid to speak louder and scare you away. You feel a bit like an idiot at her response, because of course she is. It’s a weekday and that’s what children do. “I thought it best that she stayed somewhere else tonight, so you’ll see her tomorrow. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

A sense of protection befalls you. Even if you don’t remember her, she is your daughter. Yours. “Where is she staying?”

Alexia focuses on the road for a moment. Whether she is being cautious because of the accident or because she needs to stare broodily at something to fight off her tears, you’re not sure. She is turning into somewhere quiet: tree-lined streets and quiet curiosity. “Amaia,” Alexia takes a deep breath, “is staying with my mother, Eli. She used to look after her when you first moved to Barcelona.” 

“Five years ago,” you tell her, hating how hopeful she looks at the tidbit of information. It has been learnt along with other important things, such as Amaia’s birthday and the details of your job. They provide brilliant health insurance, it turns out. “From… London?” 

She nods. “Yeah. You told me once that you missed the sunshine of Spain as though you were from the south.” You can’t help the build up of guilt in your stomach as she smiles at the memory, choosing to watch as she parks the car in an underground garage. “Your firm has an office here.” 

You unbuckle the seatbelt slowly, the strap peeling away from your bruised chest like a second skin. The pressure of it lingers, a phantom ache that settles alongside the sharpness in your ribs that make you crave the satisfaction of painkillers. Alexia is already outside the car, standing by the open door on your side, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. Her eyes flicker over you, the way they always do; cautious, worried, and like she’s afraid you might fall to pieces if she makes one wrong move. 

Having stiffened over the course of the drive, you clamber rather elegantly out of the car. She doesn’t offer to help – doesn’t say a word – but her presence hums with restraint. The lift is an even quieter affair, save for the faint whir of machinery and the tap of Alexia’s thumb against her phone screen. There is a pause as she twists a key in the lock of the lift’s control panel, but then she goes back to her text messages. Without looking, she presses the button for the top floor, and up you go. 

“It’s a penthouse,” she explains when the doors slide open into a spacious hallway. Her hesitation causes her to hang back, so you boldly take the first step towards a place you cannot recall. It smells faintly of lavender and freshly polished wood, and, despite not knowing much about Alexia, you fail to be surprised by the immaculacy of the place. The scent, however, stirs nothing in you. 

It’s warm, bathed in late afternoon sunlight that spills through large windows. You take another step, pushing yourself to move further inside, but a rack of shoes – sizes varying – catches your attention and you slip your own off. There is a gap between two pairs of Nike trainers, but you elect to place them to the side, just in case that’s not where they go. 

There are photos lining the walls, and the occasional piece of art (either child-drawn or watercolour paintings of various destinations you don’t remember visiting). And it’s nice. The kind of space you can tell someone loves because of the small things; plants thriving in mismatched pots, books stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, pens scattered on the floor in front of the TV. 

It feels like someone else’s life. That same imposterous sense you get when you walk through a showroom, wondering about the imaginary people who could live there. 

Alexia locks something behind you (you’re not entirely sure of the security system of this place) and seems to hover until you turn around to face her. “We bought it together,” she says, her tone careful and deliberate, like she’s meticulously placing each word into existence. “A little over a year ago.” 

Your stomach knots. “Together?” 

Her nod does not hide how her smile falters. “Yes, we–” She swallows. “I was pretty much staying over at yours every night, but you said you wanted something that was ours. We spent months searching for somewhere and this felt… perfect. Amaia was sold the moment the agent mentioned the pool. She spent most of the summer out there.” 

You pretend not to notice the cracks in her voice. You’re not sure for whose sake. 

“Do you… do you remember it?” she asks, and her voice is so small, so terrified, that you feel like a monster when you shake your head.

Alexia’s smile doesn’t fall all at once. It wobbles, withering in stages; a dam straining under its weight before it gives way. She nods too quickly, eyes too wide, face frozen in painfully forced understanding. “That’s okay,” she says, too brightly, voice contorting, twisting like a knife inside of her. “It’s fine. You’re still healing. That’s what matters.”

It’s brittle and raw, the way her words hang in the air. Her mustered conviction makes it seem like saying them out loud will make them true, and you want to say something, anything, to take the sting away, but the sentences tumble down your throat like loose pebbles on an unclimbable mountain. Your ribs ache as you shift your weight, and the pain feels almost deserved. Alexia clears her throat and gestures vaguely towards the leather three-seater in the middle of the living space. “Sit.” It’s not a question. “I’ll make us some coffee. Or–” She catches herself, her voice weakening. “Do you want a coffee?” 

And you hide your surprise at the question, because if Alexia and you have this life, this home together, she’d know you will always want a coffee. Maybe you are just as much a stranger to her as she is to you. From now on, at least. 

“That was stupid, wasn’t it?” She laughs with a coarse hack, as though her throat is sore. “You will never say no to that. I started switching it out with decaf because you’d be vibrating by lunchtime.” 

You offer her a smile although it feels like a betrayal to accept her kindness when your presence is clearly killing her. 

She disappears into the kitchen and you lower yourself carefully onto the sofa. It’s soft, comfortable, but frustratingly unfamiliar. Your gaze drifts to the photos hanging on the wall. A picture of a smiling child in Alexia’s arms, holding up a World Cup trophy (2010 is more recent in your memory than most people’s). You’re there too, one hand on Alexia’s shoulder, grinning with teary eyes. You exuberate pride, and Alexia does too, beaming at the photographer as she holds on tightly to the little girl. 

Amaia. 

You glance away quickly, clawed by a guilty terror. The books on the coffee table are a haphazard mix: novels, colouring books, one thick volume of the history of Catalunya. A pair of sunglasses rests atop them – chic but not gaudily luxurious. You wonder if they’re yours.

“We loved this place.” You look up as Alexia sets a mug down on the coffee table in front of you, holding another in trembling hands as she perches on the edge of the armchair opposite. “You said it felt like a dream being here. We hadn’t expected to… get on so well.” Her gaze fixes just over your shoulder, eyes just as anguished as the breath she draws in. “And we used to sit here every night, when you could no longer be called by clients and Amaia was asleep. We’d plan. It could be anything, what we were doing that weekend, what we were doing in ten years. But I like planning and you knew that, so we’d talk about everything we wanted to do. You wanted to take Amaia to Bilbao. She hasn’t been there since she was a baby.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you settle for an absent nod that lights a flare of agony. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, setting her mug down. Her voice breaks with the apology. “I didn’t mean to…” She swallows, the sound thick with tears she is trying to hold back. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to look at you and not see the person who–” 

She cuts herself off, pressing a hand over her mouth as her shoulders shake. 

Your heart lurches. “Alexia,” you murmur, her name foreign on your tongue. It’s the only thing you can think to offer, although it is woefully insufficient. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, swiping at her tears. “I told myself I was going to be strong for you, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to hold everything together when I feel like I’ve already lost you.” Her voice cracks and her hands clench into fists on her lap. “You’re here, but you’re not here. Do you know how–” She chokes on the words, her head dropping forwards. “Do you know how much that hurts?” 

“Everyone I thought I loved is gone.” It’s the first time you have said it aloud. “Everything I knew is no longer true, or it is outdated with painful hilarity. And I have a daughter whose name I couldn’t even remember.” 

“She’s named after your–” 

“My mother.” Alexia looks at you, curiosity dulling the strength of her sobs. “They told me.” You pause. “I tried to call my father the second day I was awake.” She winces at the incoming story, aware of it because of the doctors and unsuspecting that you would mention it. “No one had thought to let me know that he died.” 

“He–” 

“He was an alcoholic, I found out.” 

Palms rub her cheeks to clear the tears, and she sits up straighter. “You weren’t in contact by the time we met. You didn’t even go to his funeral.” 

“And yet my fiancée neglected to bring it up.” Standing, you ignore the ache of a battered body. “If you don’t mind, I need to rest.” You hesitate, the sight of her tear-glossed eyes rooting you to the spot for one agonising moment. You force yourself to snap out of it. “I’m sure I’ll find the bedroom.”

…

Amaia prides herself on being deemed a ‘clever girl’. The teachers at school search for her hand in the air when no one else can find the answer, and all the grown-ups in her life include her in places most girls wouldn’t belong. Like the changing room at the Joan Gamper, where people say words she is not allowed to repeat (where Alexia sometimes joins in, and asks that she be a superspy and not let it slip to you that she has engaged in such incivility). 

After training, when the mood is lighter and the air is heavy with laughter, the girls will ask why she hasn’t got her boots on, or chastise her for slacking on training when everyone else is muddy and tired. She always giggles at that, because it is a ridiculous notion that she’d be out there with them! But Amaia understands, even at her age, that this is special – sacred, even. She knows to be patient and wait for Alexia to finish leading, to switch back into Mamá Alexia, and to get on with her homework until she is given a reason to be distracted. 

The last time she was there, Mapi had joked about teaching her to take long, bendy freekicks. Amaia had scrunched her nose and declared, self-assured and stubborn, that she will continue to prefer goalkeeping. Alexia always needs someone to practise against, and she is determined to prove herself a worthy opponent. 

Alexia had laughed at that, a laugh so pure and proud that Amaia felt like the funniest girl in the world.

But tonight, Amaia isn’t at the training ground. She’s perched at the dining table in Yaya Eli's kitchen, her knees tucked under her chin, staring at a photograph stuck onto the fridge: herself, Alexia, and you. The picture is sunny and bright, taken on the beach last summer, but now, as she looks at her family, her stomach hurts. 

“Are you going to eat that, petita?” Eli’s voice breaks her train of thought. The older woman gestures at the plate of tortilla and salad in front of Amaia, her face tired but kind. 

She shakes her head. “Not hungry.” 

Eli hums softly, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she walks over. A chair scrapes on the tiled floor as she makes room for herself to sit down, and then she is resting her hands gently on Amaia’s knees, a silent request for her to sit properly. “You’ve hardly eaten all day, Maieta. Què passa en aquest cervellet teu?” 

Frowning, Amaia replies, “Do you think Alexia is sad?” 

A beat passes, Eli caught between the truth and the comfort a white lie could bring. “I think,” she begins carefully, “that Alexia is feeling a lot of things right now. Just as I know you are.” She brushes a hand down Amaia’s back, willing the solemn tension in her spine to dissipate.

Amaia stares at the photo on the fridge. “Ama is so different.” Your smile is familiar. Yours. And she can’t remember the last time she saw it. “It’s like she’s not even there.” 

The words hang heavy in the air, and two hearts ache because of just how much Amaia understands. 

Quietly, Amaia asks her second question. “Does she still love me?” 

Eli swallows her in a hug and cannot bring herself to ever let go.

…

A fortnight passes.

You sleep in your bedroom, Alexia in the spare. Amaia seems busy but, with no calendar on the fridge to tell you when things are, you have little idea as to what she is doing. You try to ask her about her day, making an effort to get to know her, but the conversation always turns stale, buckling under the weight of your guilt for its need and her discomfort at talking to someone so familiar like they are a stranger. 

With no work and strict instructions to rest, there is not much to do between the declining doctor’s appointments and episodes of wallowing. 

The penthouse is large and luxurious, but the walls soon grow tiresome. 

Alexia bought you a new phone when you had been cleared to look at screens again. She had come back with something else in the bag too, something lost in the accident, but held off on gifting it. It sits in the corner of the room, its presence almost accusatory. You’re not an idiot, you know what it is. You suppose Alexia wants to choose when to open Pandora’s box. You allow her that control, that comfort. The phone, at least, has proven to be a necessary tether, though you’ve hesitated to use it for much more than practicalities (like looking up who the current Prime Minister is, embarrassingly). Today, though, alone and finished with the idea of sitting in a silent home like a guest overstaying their welcome, you muster the nerve to call one of the few numbers you’d bothered to save. 

It takes three attempts to connect. The first time, you freeze when you hear the ring. The second, your trembling thumb threatens to cancel the call just as it begins. But on the third, a gruff voice answers. 

“Kaixo?” 

He sounds the same, you think, if not a bit older. He’s your brother and he is familiar, which is refreshing. 

You clear your throat. “It’s me.” 

A pause stretches, heavy and uncertain. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, disbelief blended with relief. “Is it really you? They said you– I mean, we weren’t sure…” His voice breaks off. 

“It’s me,” you repeat, softer now, guilt pulling at each syllable. “How are you, Asi?” 

The laugh you get is mean, because it does not hide the ridiculousness of the question. Asier is the eldest and he is the wisest, too, although you’d be loath to admit it. Beneath him are two other brothers, Ander and Adrian. The latter was who you last remember speaking to: a shouting match in your father’s house, both sides hysterical. You had walked out, then. 

“The last thing you should remember about me is how I asked you to get an abortion.” His voice is distant, emotions running through it no longer raw and real. For him, that was a decade ago. “You could’ve called sooner,” he then says. 

“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit. Anger bubbles inside at the thought of the three of them in Bilbao, residue from how things were left. Asier isn’t wrong about what he asked you to do. Even now, he refuses to lie. 

“Say you’re okay.” 

A lump forms in your throat. You almost choke on it trying to get the words out. “Ez, ez nago ondo.” 

“How can I fix this?” he asks, but for a while, the only thing you can hear in his voice is fear. 

He speaks for what feels like hours, attempting to cover everything that happened between then and now. He’s married. His twins turned six last month. They visited you and Amaia in Barcelona a year ago, and he gave Alexia enough shovel talk for her to become positively terrified of him. He skirts around the death of your father, a mystery he clearly doesn’t want to help you solve, and he similarly avoids the argument you had. “We’re… on good terms. All of us,” is the most you get. 

Finally, he exhales sharply, like he’s trying to let go of something heavy. “I don’t know how to help you forgive us again. It was hard enough the first time. But I do know one thing: you are not going through this alone. You’re never alone, not anymore.”

You haven’t heard him be so gentle, so caring for a long time. The Asier you remember was strict, stubborn, and destined to be just as great a man as your father. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, your fingers tightening around the phone, a desperate yearning rising in you. Something needs to change. You need it to. 

The air feels thick – too thick – and Barcelona is suddenly too far away. 

“I– Asier, I…” The words almost refuse to come out. Something rustles on the other end, his clothes maybe, and it’s like he has leant forwards. You clear your throat, steadying yourself. “Can I… can I visit you? Can I come home?” 

There’s a pause, and you regret asking. It makes no sense. Your home is here, according to the doctors and Alexia and the roots you have dug into the ground. But then Asier speaks again, his voice quiet but not unkind. 

“Are you sure?” His tone isn’t harsh but there is an air of caution in the way he proceeds. 

“I’m not really sure of anything.” And it is set. You know what you are going to do. This is the family you remember. 

That evening, you wait patiently for Alexia to have enough of talking at you about her day and her life and how ‘the girls’ – whose names you can’t seem to grasp – were wondering if you’d like to watch their next home match. (She detaches herself from the request. You’ve noticed that she’s stopped trying to ask things of you, focusing mainly on educating you about Amaia. Her selflessness is impressive.) When she leaves you with a wish for you to sleep well and an awkward space of time that you assume would once have been filled with a kiss, you open your phone onto Google and purchase a ticket for the first flight to Bilbao. Living in Sarrià and sending Amaia to an international school are clear signs that the ticket will make no dent in your bank account, and Alexia has already set up your cards for you on your phone, so all you have to do is double click and stare at the camera that can apparently recognise your face. 

It’s raining in Bilbao when your flight touches down. Alexia had left twenty minutes before your taxi to the airport arrived. It was a relatively seamless journey. 

Asier is grinning in the arrivals section of the airport. “Do you have a coat?” is his greeting. You match his expression, holding up one you’d bought en route. “The boys have taken the day off. We’re going for drinks.” You’re about to decline the alcoholic implication, but he beats you to it. “You can have lemonade.” 

He drives a nice car and his hair is clipped in a way that reminds you of your father. Military men. 

“You’re not in uniform,” you state as he reverses the car out of its spot, staring straight ahead in order to shake the feel of his eyes flickering over to you every now and then. 

“I’m on leave.” 

“Because of me?” 

He sucks in a breath. “My commanding officer wouldn’t let me argue with him. I’ll go back tomorrow. I’ve been posted here permanently.” 

“Like Aita,” you say proudly, because look at the man he has become. He was always on this path, but it is nice to see his hard work come to fruition. 

Asier’s nose, however, scrunches at the comparison. “That is something we need to talk about, actually. But I thought it was best to do it with the two nutters present. And alcohol.” He quickly adds, “For us.” 

After that, he doesn’t speak much. He’s still the same, quiet, authoritative figure you used to lean on, except now there’s a softness to him, an almost apologetic quality when he catches your eye. You try not to prickle every time you remember the last thing he had said to you, because it’s not a true telling of the past. It’s an uneasy feeling, not being able to trust yourself. 

His intrinsic wariness continues to exist; the same kind he bore a decade ago, only heavier, more experience. You don’t know why, and you’re not sure you care to. You’re still angry at them, at the way everything was left, and it begins to build the closer you get to the house you grew up in. 

The streets of Bilbao are slick, puddles splashing at curbs, the air growing fresher as you move through neighbourhoods you recognise for once. The city here has a pulse that Barcelona’s neat. Sunny streets can never match, and that pulse settles something in you, even as you silently brace for what’s to come. 

Asier pulls into your road. The houses are still large, still intimidating and orderly, with gates that hint at important secrets being kept within the walls. He must have inherited your childhood home, but only the colour of the brick echoes what it once was. There’s a swing on the front lawn, tall enough for the top bar to be seen above the wrought iron gates, and when the gates open, you can tell a happy family lives here. You get the sense that your mother’s absence was more obvious than it felt.

The gravel crunches under the tires of his car as he parks. “We moved in three years ago, had the whole place redone. We tried to rip out that sense of regime and… severity.” He hesitates. “And the stench of alcohol.” Your interest is piqued by that, taking the bait like a stupid fish. He’s amused by it. “Come on.” And he gets out. 

You smile faintly and follow him onto the porch, stepping over the deflated basketball discarded on the tiled stairs. 

The inside has colour now, no longer so uniform and stark. As much as you love – loved – your father, the man struggled to design a home. It’s nice. Really, you like what he’s done with the place. 

Asier gestures for you to follow him into the living room, electric blue and full of pictures. Your two other brothers, Ander and Adrian, are seated on the sofas, both sprawled out and lazily watching a recap of the football as though this were a normal visit. Hesitantly, you make your presence known. 

Adrian is the first to notice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. You don’t know what you expected to see, but this isn’t it. His expression softens immediately, and for a split second, you see a glimpse of the little boy he once was, sheepish and guilty of crimes he hasn’t yet committed. 

“You’re not too banged up,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle and impressed. The rest of the room goes quiet and you can feel the tension rise, but it’s not as sharp as you thought it would be. Maybe it’s because time has passed for them. You can’t say the same. 

Then Ander leans forwards, far less subtle. “You forgave me. So before you shout at me again, make sure you keep that in mind.” He doesn’t seem irritated or put off, just a bit inconvenienced and… bored. It takes you by surprise and kills the fight in your throat momentarily. He pounces on your silence: “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.” 

You shake your head, both to disagree and snap yourself out of the blip of absolution because that is something you don’t remember yet. You don’t feel soft. Not at all. You feel sharp, like the ache in your chest won’t ever leave, like you’ve been carrying something for a long time and it needs to be addressed. You look away. 

“I kept the baby.” It’s an obvious statement. Asier already said he’s visited you and Amaia. “I moved away and I had a child, and what did you three do?” 

“You told us you were leaving. You asked us not to follow, not to reach out.” Adrian is referencing something you can’t recall. “And you nearly didn’t keep her. Asi was coming from a place of reason.” 

“It doesn’t need justification,” Asier says calmly. You’re not sure whose side he’s on. “Adrian is right. You asked us not to interfere. It’s not that we didn’t care, but you made it clear you didn’t want us to. We respected that.” 

The room feels colder with the weight of his words, but there’s no bite to them, no condemnation. It’s just the truth. And the truth stings more than you anticipated. “I was a child.” 

“You insisted you weren’t. That was your main point, actually,” says Ander. 

Adrian fidgets in his seat, his gaze darting between you and Asier. “We were stupid and we regretted it. Dad regretted it too, though he never admitted that.” The boys grow more pained at the mention of him. “I don’t know how we could’ve helped, even if we’d tried. None of us were ready to hear that our baby sister was… not a baby anymore.” 

It doesn’t reach you in the way they should. Your mind spins, but it’s not in anger anymore. It’s a sort of blankness, a weariness that comes from unnecessary strife and grief and rupture of a network so strong. “I never asked you to leave me alone,” you say quietly, and the boys hear your voice from six years ago layered on top of it, a mirror of the past. This took place over the phone, then, stemming from an argument about your absence from a funeral. “I asked you not to judge me for my choices, but that was never the same thing. And yet, all of you let me go without a word.” 

Asier shifts uncomfortably, the glug of a bottle breaking the silence that follows you statement. He hands you a glass. “Lemonade,” he says. 

“I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t know how else to say it,” blurts Adrian, who has always been impatient and far too close to you to drag these things out. 

Your legs tremble but Asier is there to steady you. “Sit down, txurru. Let’s talk.” 

Over drinks, they recount it all. Fight by fight, death by death. No one cries as Asier carefully details your father’s descent into alcoholism; how he lost his footing, how he left his life’s work with no apparent reason, killing himself slowly until one day, there was nothing he could do but actually die. Unflinching, they tell you about the late-night arguments, the doors slamming, the silence that followed. Your father’s temper had fractured the family over the years, though you’d been too blind to see until the day you left, and it did not subside in the years you spent estranged. 

They talk about how much they missed you, how they’d send texts to a number you no longer used, or tried to find you on social media. Pride fills the room when Ander talks about finding you on your firm’s website. 

For the first time since the accident, you feel tethered to something, something that feels like it could belong to you. These boys – men, really – share your face and they share your past, and, as the lump in your throat falls away, you realise that this is what home feels like. 

But that tether is violently yanked away when your phone buzzes. 

“Where the fuck are you?!” Alexia’s voice is sharp, teetering on the edge of fury and desperation. 

You squint, confused at why she is so upset, then remembering that Alexia isn’t some random woman who reminds you to take your pain medication and drives you to your appointments. 

“Bilbao.” 

The seconds tick on before Alexia musters the restraint to reply without blowing up your ears from six hundred kilometres away. “You should’ve told me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You don’t sound it,” she replies bitterly. For a moment, Alexia seems like she hates your guts. And then she takes a deep breath, leaving the silence to fill the gap between you.

[wooyoungiewritings]

Red Dress - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: It's time for the annual trip to the mountains to celebrate Christmas with the Parks. That including the human version of a headache, their son - Park Seonghwa. You've never gotten along, you'd even go so far to call him your worst enemy. But something happens on the trip, something neither of you can explain. It leads both you and Seonghwa into unknown territories, but one thing is for sure. It's all thanks to the red dress.

Word count: 20.6K

Genre: Fluff (!!) enemies to lovers, smut (yall.. seonghwa in this one... WOOOH it's getting hot in here)

warnings: "Enemy" Seonghwa with fem reader (fem pronouns). Hwa's mother has passed away, calls reader "sunshine", Seonghwa is a tease and he loves it, Hwa is a D-O-M, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, aftercare (he's so sweet please), lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

You zip your last bag, trying to gather some kind of overview. Your main luggage bags and two smaller bags filled to the brim. You made sure to pack thoroughly. It would be dreadful to forget something important while staying in the mountains, with the possibility of being snowed in.

A quick buzzing sound came from your phone, your hands grabbing it from your back pocket. You don’t even realize the deep sigh escaping between your lips as you read the name on the screen, somehow you hear the annoyance in the simple text.

Seonghwa i’m here

You type back, wanting him to elaborate.

You at the main entrance?

Seonghwa no i’m on top of the building i just landed my helicopter

yes i’m at the main entrance

You 2 minutes

You roll your eyes as you throw your phone on the bed, looking around your apartment for the last few things to pack. The next few hours are gonna be horrific, being squeezed in your car with the human version of a headache. 

Park Seonghwa.

Despite the two of you not being able to get along, your families do, and they use every possible opportunity to do things together. The annual cottage trip to the mountains for Christmas is no exception. His dad and his sister are all very nice people, watching over you like your own family. His mom was also the kindest woman you’ve ever known, but she sadly passed away six years ago due to sickness. When you were kids, everyone got along just fine. Not the best, because you still thought Seonghwa was teasing you a lot, but it was still manageable. But after his mom’s passing, your relationship with Seonghwa got even worse. 

You never spoke to him about her, because you were simply not that close, but that just resulted in you and him not getting along at all. He got more snarky, which resulted in you getting more snarky.. And now whenever you two spoke, it was always with a hint of teasing and/or mockering. 

You jug to the door as a knock echoes through your apartment, and you open up to see Seonghwa looking unsatisfied on the other side. You can already hear him complain about having to walk up a few sets of stairs, so you turn around before he opens his mouth.

“I’ll be ready in a second.” You say as you walk away, hearing him close the front door as he enters your apartment. 

“Take your time, it’s not like we’re the only ones who aren’t there yet.” Seonghwa mumbles sarcastically, loud enough for you to hear and you bite your tongue before something slips out.

You try your best to carry most of your bags to the front door where Seonghwa is waiting, arms crossed over his chest. He’s still wearing his boots and bomber jacket, not showing any signs that he’s willing to help you carry your stuff. His hair is annoyingly perfectly set, despite it being 7 in the morning like he had all the time in the world to get dressed.

“You know we’ll only be gone for two weeks, not a year, right?” He asks as you put down the bags on the floor in front of him. 

“Seonghwa, it’s 7 in the morning. Can you at least wait until the sun is up to be a pain in my ass? How are you awake right now?” You can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth when you glance at him. 

“I’m an insomniac, this is normal.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You’re not in the mood to continue the conversation so you go back for the last bag, carry it to the front door and Seonghwa (thankfully) helps you carry the bags down the stairs and to your car. His luggage is waiting in the lobby, he probably didn't want to carry it to your floor after traveling with it to your apartment building. 

Both of your families left for the cottage yesterday, but you and Seonghwa had to wait a day to travel because of busy schedules, and at the end of the day, it was just easier to travel together. You and Seonghwa agreed to take your car to the cottage, so you walk outside where your car is parked, and Seonghwa lunges your bags into the trunk.

“Holy shit, what did you put in this bag? A dead body?” He complains and you throw in your bags in the backseat. You open the door to the driver's seat, but look back at him as he loads the trunk.

“If we’re gonna make it through this trip, you have to stop being ironic in every sentence.” You get in the car and turn it on, hurrying to heat up the vehicle. Fog leaves your mouth as you speak, and you rub your hands to create some warmth.

“Fine,” Seonghwa simply answers before closing the trunk and making his way to the driver's seat where you are sitting. “Get out.” He looks down at you with the unreadable expression he always wears, and you scoff.

“Out? It’s my car?” You state, almost like a question. 

“Yes, but I’m driving.”

“Give me one good reason”

“Well, it’s 7 in the morning and you’re not a morning person, your road rage gets 50 times worse in the morning, especially when the roads are slippery. So you should take this as me doing you a favor. Now move.” Seonghwa cocks his head towards the passenger seat, confidently standing in the door to the driver’s seat, leaning up against the car. His face is hard to read, but every word he spoke had a truth behind it. Despite you and him not getting along, you’ve grown up close together, resulting in you knowing almost everything about each other.

A deep sigh leaves you as you step out of the car, not wanting to admit how he’s right.

“You have a lot of nerve talking like you’re the one owning this car.” You say as you enter the passenger seat, getting comfortable. 

“I just want you to be my passenger princess, is that too much to ask?” Seonghwa sends you a smirk before driving the car away from your apartment complex, and you’re headed to the cottage where both of your families are waiting for your arrival. 

A couple moments in silence pass, and the city starts to wake up as the sun brightens up your surroundings. Generic Christmas music plays on the car radio, a channel that has played ‘Last Christmas’ and ‘All I Want For Christmas’ nonstop since the middle of November. 

“Is your sister coming?” You ask, looking out of the window to your side. 

“Not this year. Her boyfriend offered her to celebrate Christmas with his family.” Seonghwa’s focus stays on the road as he answers.

Seonghwa’s sister is two years older than him, but you and her have always gotten along well. One of your fondest memories with her was when you were kids and forced Seonghwa into their mother’s clothes, and you and his sister used him as a canvas to test your makeup skills. That was the time when everything was fun and everyone got (somewhat) along. 

Not like now.

“Have you gotten better at skiing or do we get that atrocious fall again?” His voice has a tease to it as he glances over at you beside him. 

“It was a year ago, and it wasn't my fault.. I’ve gotten better.” You sound confident as you look over at Seonghwa who has an eyebrow raised suspectfully. On your last trip to the cottage with the Parks, you fell while skiing, which resulted in you being unable to walk for the rest of the trip. You promised yourself to never let that happen again.

“Oh yeah? You’ve been practicing?” He has a smug smile on his lips as he talks. 

“I’m better than you, we both know that.” A smile creeps up on your lips, doing your best to annoy him. A scoff leaves Seonghwa before he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and you know you said the right thing.

“That almost sounds like a bet.” He says.

“And what if it is?” You ask daringly, up for a challenge. 

Yes, you and Seonghwa knew how to bicker, but what could make you both excited was a competition. Anything from board games to extreme sports, you love competing with each other. Or hate it. Love to hate it.

Seonghwa smiles with his annoyingly straight teeth, looking over at you for a second to see if you’re serious, before nodding. “Then I hope you’re okay with losing,” He answers confidently. “What’s the challenge?”

“Who gets down the slope first. Easy.” You shrug.

“What color are we talking?”

“Black, of course.” You try to read his expression, challenging him to ride the most dangerous hill on the mountain. 

“Black? You remember the black slope on the mountain, don’t you? You wanna race down from that?” There’s something unsure about his voice, but it only makes you want to continue going through with this bet.

“Are you scared?” You tease, looking at him with a smile. Knowing Seonghwa your entire life, you know exactly what buttons to press to get your way, and when a confident chuckle leaves his body, you know this bet is on.

“Alright, sunshine, let’s do this.” He smirks, looking at you briefly.

“Anything you wanna bet?” You ask, trying to hide your excitement that he fell into your trap and agreed to this.

Seonghwa takes a few seconds to think, tapping the steering wheel before he speaks. “The loser will do what the winner says for an entire day.” He suggests. 

Somehow you expected this penalty, so you roll your eyes as a scoff leaves you. “Boring, but fine,” You say before looking over at him. “I can’t wait to make you my little puppy.” A huge smile decorates your lips at the thought of Seonghwa in the palm of your hand for 24 hours.

He has a big smile on his lips as he leans back in the driver's seat, getting comfortable. 

“Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. I already have some things in store for you.” He doesn’t even look at you while talking, but he’s wearing his confident smirk as he speaks like he’s imagining what he’ll make you do if he wins. 

You can’t wait to remove that cocky smile.

***

After a few hours of driving, you finally arrived at the cottage. There had been a delay due to some accidents on the road. The further you made it to the mountains, the slippier the roads got, resulting in a few accidents. Luckily, there were no big accidents, and you and Seonghwa made it safely to the cottage.

Your family greeted you, as well as Seonghwa’s dad.

As you mom helps you take off your jacket, she sends you the warmest smile and tells you that your room is on the first floor, which you will be sharing with Seonghwa.

“Thanks, mom.” You send her a smile back and look around the cottage. It looks the same as always. The fireplace is heating up the entire living room, and Christmas stockings for each person hanging over it, including Seonghwa’s sister and mom. There’s a smell of cinnamon hanging in the air as you grab your stuff and head upstairs to unpack. The long hallway with three doors leads you to your room, and you know your room is at the end of the hallway. You pass the closed door to Seonghwa’s room and a bathroom, already excited to have a shower in the huge shower stall. 

As you step into your room, you notice that it has the same warm tones as the rest of the house, giving off a cozy feeling. The room is furnished with a massive bed, and at the end of the room, there is a large window that provides a breathtaking view of the mountains. On the bedside table, there is a lit-up candle, adding to the room's warm and inviting atmosphere.

You throw yourself on the bed, happy to finally be at the cottage. 

This is gonna be a good trip.. hopefully

***

“Last chance to back down, sunshine.” Seonghwa looks at the slope in front of him before looking at you. A confident smile spreads on your lips, knowing you’ll win this one.

“Over my dead body, Seonghwa. I’m so excited to have you wrapped around my finger for a day.” 

It was your first official day at the cottage, and of course you and Seonghwa had to settle your little bet, trying to figure out who was best down the mountain.

“You’re a lot of talk, no bite. Let’s see how your mouth runs when you’re going to be my servant for an entire day.” He sends you a smirk. Your eyes roll back, used to these comments.

“You always claim to be a gentleman. Is this how you normally speak to girls? No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“They wouldn’t be able to handle me. Only you can.” The smirk is still evident on his lips. “Besides, I am a gentleman. In fact, I’ll even let you get 10 seconds as a head start.”

You try to read his face to see if he’s kidding, but when it looks like he means what he says, you scoff. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I never regret anything when it comes to you.”

You both stare into each other’s eyes for a long second, and this only make you more excited. You love winning. Even better when you win over him. 

“I’ll see you down there.” You send him one last smile before making your way down the mountain. You use your poles to help increase the speed, using every opportunity to get down the mountain first. 

10 seconds isn’t a lot, but if you use them well, this win would be even easier. Wind rushes in your ears, snow flying as you go side to side down the slope. You don’t look back, not wanting to focus on Seonghwa behind you, so you stay in your own head, doing your best to come down as fast as possible. 

You feel your legs burn in the best way, having missed this feeling.

The feeling of being free and no one telling you to stop. The wind blows faster as you move quicker down the slope, following the trail. Suddenly, you see a figure, and lo and behold, Seonghwa is next to you. You can’t see his face due to his helmet, but you bet he's sending you a smile behind the glass. He sends you a wave before he passes you on his snowboard, and suddenly he’s in the front. 

Your poles help you increase the speed even more, and you bend your knees to go even faster. Further down, you start to see the finish, and despite being behind Seonghwa, you still have a chance. He moves quick and even manages to be slightly daring on the way down, but you can take him.

You’re sure of it.

Well, that’s until a kid suddenly falls in front of you, and you quickly have to make your way around them. You make a turn, a little too sharp, and pass the kid lying in the snow. The last thing you see is Seonghwa reaching the bottom of the slope before you fall forward and roll a few meters in the snow. Confused, you lay still for a few moments, trying to gather what just happened. All you see is white from the snow until a figure comes into sight.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa’s concerned voice suddenly speaks, and you look up to see him hurry to you. You try to move, realizing you’ve somehow lost both of your skis in your fall.

“I’m fine, ow.” A sharp pain shocks through your leg, starting from your ankle. The pain is enough to suddenly send a stinging feeling in your eyes, tears slowly forming. 

“Is this how you make me feel bad for winning?” Seonghwa tries to help you up from the snow, grabbing you under your arms.

“It doesn’t count, I fell. We should try again to see- OW!” 

Another sharp pain shocks you, even worse than before, and you give up trying to get up this way. You sit up, no visible injuries, only the pain in your ankle. 

“Can you stand up?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Get on my back.” Seonghwa moves in front of you, kneeling down so you can jump on his back. You shake your head, not wanting to admit how bad your ankle hurts.

“No, it’s fine.” You try to stand up, but wince when the pain only gets worse.

“Can you stop being stubborn and let me help you? Get on my back.” His voice is serious, and it’s clear you won’t get it your way. You do your best to get on his back without putting too much pressure on your leg, and he stands up with you. He holds you under your knees while your arms hold around his neck. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah..”

He manages to get you to a bench, and after a few moments of him checking up on you, looking for any visible damages, it’s clear that the pain in your ankle is getting worse. You (or more like Seonghwa) make the decision not to ski anymore, so he ends up carrying you to the cottage. 

You feel grateful on Seonghwa’s behalf that it’s close to the ski resort so he won’t have to carry you too far. Both of you still in your ski clothing, you know everything is heavier than normal. 

And despite you telling him that it’s fine and that you can call for someone else to help you, he acts like he doesn’t hear you and continues to carry you home. 

Not a word is said between you, he makes his way inside the cottage with you on his back. He helps you out of your jacket and ski pants, so you’re left with your long-sleeved shirt and leggings. He quickly takes off his own ski clothing before suddenly carrying you bridal style, making his way to the stairs. 

Your arm encircles his neck as he carefully walks up the stairs, ensuring your foot doesn't touch anything.

“You don’t have to do this.” You almost whisper.

“I know.” He responds, seeing the door to your room. He walks in and puts you on the bed softly. You wince when you move your ankle, and Seonghwa notices immediately. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle, and down to the heel.” You point exactly where it hurts, and he looks at your foot before grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” Is the only thing he says before he makes his way out of your room and you hear him walk down the stairs. You have no idea what he’s doing or what you’re waiting for. You just use this moment to be thankful that you didn’t get hurt anywhere else.

After a few minutes, you hear Seonghwa’s voice get closer as he makes his way up the stairs. You hear him talking on the phone.

“Yes.. Alright. No, it looks a little swollen. Okay, thank you.” He appears at your door with some ice in a towel and walks closer to your bed. He sits down by your legs and places the ice on your ankle. “Here, keep this on for 15 minutes and then off for 15 minutes. Then repeat as much as possible.” 

“Who’d you talk to?” You ask.

“I called the local doctor. If it gets worse you have to do a checkup, but for now, you just have to rest. Try not to walk on your foot, so call for me if you need anything.” He looks at you briefly before standing up. You’ve never seen this side of Seonghwa before, and having him take care of you like this, is making you feel something strange in your stomach. 

You look up at him from the bed, not knowing what to say. “Thank you.” You barely whisper.

He sends you a quick and awkward smile before he turns around and walks out of your room. He closes the door behind him, and you realize you’re stuck in bed after a fall, just like last year. You sigh, annoyed that this happened, but there isn’t much you can do about it. 

Laying in your bed, you suddenly feel your eyes getting heavier. It isn’t like you have anywhere else to go, so you use this opportunity to close your eyes and take a nap. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you allow yourself to sleep until you wake up.

***

It’s still bright outside when your eyes open, but when you look at the clock on your nightstand, you realize that you’ve been sleeping for a few hours. You don’t hear a sound from the rest of the house, and you wonder if Seonghwa left or if he’s asleep as well.

There’s still a sharp pain in your ankle, the ice has melted a bit. You sigh and look around the room. There isn't much to do when you’re stuck here. But the dryness in your mouth tempts you to leave your bed and get something to drink.

You know Seonghwa said to call for him if you needed anything, but a quick run to the kitchen couldn’t cause any more damage to your ankle, right? Besides, maybe he’s sleeping, and you don’t want to wake him up.

You manage to get out of bed, limping down the silent hallway. Thankful for the staircase, it helps you take it slow and hold you as you make your way down the stairs. It does hurt when you put pressure on it, but not as much as the fall last year. 

Finally, you make your way to the kitchen. It’s a little cold down here, so you want to prepare something hot. Drinking hot drinks after skiing reminds you of when you were younger. The feeling of the warmth running through your body and-

“What part of ‘call me if you need anything’ didn’t you understand?” Seonghwa’s voice makes you jump and you look behind you to see him enter the kitchen.

“I was just getting something to drink.” You mumble, standing by the cabinet to get a mug.

“You can’t walk on your foot.” He sounds like an annoyed dad as he finds a stool and places it by the kitchen island. He cocks his head towards the stool and you sit down on it. He’s showing a very bossy side of himself, and you’re not sure how to respond to it.

“I made it down here, didn’t I?” You mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears and sighs deeply.

“It’s not gonna heal if you walk,” He makes his way to the fridge and looks inside. “What do you want?”

“Hot cocoa.”

He looks back at you. “You couldn’t have said water?” His brow shoots up, looking slightly annoyed, but you shake your head.

“You asked what I want and I want hot cocoa.” Your voice is talking at a low volume, and you’re sure that if you were a dog, your ears would be hanging low and your tail would be between your legs. Seonghwa takes a second to think for himself, watching you before another sigh leaves him. 

“I guess I’m making you hot cocoa then.” He tilts his head to the side before grabbing a mug and finding the ingredients to make you some hot cocoa. You don’t say much as he prepares it, enjoying seeing him do something like this for you. 

“I thought since I lost our bet that I was being your servant for the day.” You tease, trying to fill the heavy air with some conversation.

“Well, that was before you decided to fall and make yourself useless,” He looks back at you and sends you a teasing smirk. “Besides, I’ll just save it for another day. Don’t think I’ll forget, sunshine.” 

You can't help but smile at his teasing. Usually, you want to rip his hair out, but right now, you're actually enjoying being in the same room as him.

He’s making your hot cocoa, and you feel slightly useless, sitting and staring at him. The couch is in your sight, so you step down from the stool, but as soon as your (healthy) foot touches the floor, Seonghwa’s eyes are on you. He stares at you as you freeze, scared you’ve done something wrong.

“What?” You ask. 

“Where are you going?” He’s quick to ask back.

“To the.. couch, if that’s okay with you?” 

Seonghwa doesn’t waste a second, dropping the tablespoon on the counter, taking you up bridal style again, and walking towards the couch.

“Seonghwa, you don’t have to do this,” You know saying it won’t make him stop. He’s as stubborn as you. He carefully puts you down on the couch, raising your leg so it rests on the extended part of the couch before he runs back to the kitchen. He appears a few seconds later with your hot cocoa in hand and places it on the table in front of you. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?” He asks, standing up in front of you. You look behind him at the TV, your eyes catching the remote lying on top of a shelf behind him.

“The remote..” You point.

He hands you the remote. “Alright.. If I see you walking by yourself again I’ll chain you to the couch, understood?” He looks you deep in the eyes, and for some reason, you almost think he’s serious. 

“Yes, sir.” You say teasingly, and he scoffs at you before disappearing again with a smile. 

A smile that looks dangerously good.

***

Every year you go out to have dinner at the fancy restaurant in the city close to the cottage. But due to your little stunt on the mountain yesterday, you all had to go for dinner today, as you couldn’t possibly use your foot. But it’s already getting better, and it isn’t as swollen as yesterday, so you felt even more ready for a nice evening out.

Maybe all the carrying from Seonghwa did help after all.

It’s also a fun excuse to dress up for a night and eat delicious food, so you remembered to pack the fancy dress you bought for this special occasion. A maroon-colored dress with a bare back, dropped shoulders and it hugs your body perfectly, ending on the middle of your thighs. You look in the mirror one last time before making your way downstairs to the others. It’s fun to see your parents in their fancy attire, looking like they just fell in love with each other again. 

You smile to yourself as you look around and immediately notice a set of eyes staring you down.

Seonghwa is leaning against the back of one of the couches, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt as his gaze falls on you. You can't help but smirk in response. His eyes meet yours, and you can't resist glancing down at his attire.

He is in his black blazer with black pants, but instead of a regular button-down underneath, he is wearing something a runway model would wear. A white silk shirt with ruffles and lace is showing under his jacket, and no part of you is surprised by his choice of clothes. Whenever he can wear something a little different, he will, and he always pulls it off. 

Is he the biggest pain in the ass? Absolutely. 

Is he also very attractive? Oh, absolutely.

It’s actually irritating how beautiful this man is, but no way in hell you would ever tell him that. He knows he looks good, no need to boost his ego.

You decide to look away from him before you make yourself too obvious, as you get the sense that it’s time to leave soon. You decide to wait outside by the door as you’re waiting for the two families to leave. Suddenly, a presence is standing next to you, but you don’t need to look to see who joined you.

“Like what you’re seeing?” You ask teasingly, not even sparing him a glance.

“You look like my dream girl.” Seonghwa says confidently as he steps in front of you, looking down into your eyes.

His tall frame takes up most of the space in your sight, and you look up to meet his dark eyes. For some unknown reason you feel your heart beating faster, and it only increases when he puts some hair behind your ear.

“Really?” You manage to get out.

“I never said what kind of dream,” he says, slowly leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You’re my fucking nightmare.”

Seonghwa leans back to send you a wink along with a smirk before turning around to walk away and enter one of the cars waiting outside, leaving you behind, baffled. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous he is, mentally cursing yourself for showing a slight reaction to his words. You brush off the feeling inside you and you enter another car waiting outside to take you to the restaurant in the city. 

You all drive for a few minutes, each family in each car, before entering the city with Christmas lights hanging everywhere. The restaurant is also decorated outside with lights, a group of Christmas carols singing on the other side of the street. 

It’s not like you’re from a rich family that goes to expensive restaurants a lot, but this was a tradition you’ve always shared with the Parks, so you would of course do it again this year. 

A male waiter follows you to your table, and you notice it’s a rather busy night, not seeing a single empty table. Christmas lights are decorating the ceiling, as well as generic Christmas instrumentals fill the air. A table for five comes into view with lit-up candles, and you find your way to the end. Your parents are busy talking with Seonghwa’s dad, laughing at something that happened before you arrived earlier today, leaving you in your own world. The waiter hands out a menu for you, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on you for a few seconds, his dimples showing when you make eye contact. You can’t help but smile back at his warm eyes, feeling the heat in your cheeks. He disappears again after having handed out the menus to the rest of the table, and you look across the table by chance and notice how Seonghwa’s eyes are staring at you. 

Something you can’t read is evident in his gaze, but you choose to quickly shoot your eyes to the menu. For some unknown reason, Seonghwa is making looking at him harder than usual, and you can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. 

A few moments pass, and the waiter comes back to take everyone's orders. He saves you for last, sending you a warm smile.

“And what can I get for you, miss?” His dimples even show when he’s talking. 

“I’m torn between the smoked salmon and the scallops.. Do you have a recommendation?” You send him a smile.

“Ohh, that’s a tough one.. Personally, I would be in for salmon, so that would be my choice. But that depends on you, of course.” He smirks, trying to continue the casual talk between you. You’re too lost in your conversation with him, figuring out what to eat, to realize the piercing eyes across from you. Seonghwa’s eyes shoot between you and the waiter, for some reason feeling annoyed with him. 

You end up choosing the smoked salmon, and handing him back the menu. A wink is sent in your direction before he makes his way to the kitchen. Casual talk then spreads across the table. Mr. Park looks in your direction, wanting to hear how you’ve been doing since the last time you spoke.

“I’ve been doing very well, Mr. Park, thank you for asking.” You respond to the kind man across the table.

“That’s good! And you’re still enjoying your job?” 

"Definitely. It is a bit far away though, so my car is very necessary. But it is having a hard time driving, especially in the winter months, so I’m considering saving up for a new car or finding a job a bit closer.” You answer, your parents adding to the conversation and carrying it on. 

“Maybe you should ask the waiter what he thinks you should do.” Seonghwa says across from you, low enough not to cause any attention to him from the rest of the table, but you hear him loud and clear. 

Your eyes glare at him, but he only responds with an annoying smile. You roll your eyes, trying to focus on the conversation between your parents. 

A few moments later your food arrives, and the salmon is placed in front of you. You all start eating, and you do your best to ignore the eyes looking at you from time to time across the table. 

Giving him attention will only make it worse, you think.

“How are you enjoying the salmon, miss?” A voice speaks behind you, and you look up to see the waiter sending you another smile. Cheeks heating up again, you do your best to answer confidently. 

“It’s really good, definitely the right decision.” 

“I’m glad, personally it’s my favorite item on the menu.” He tells you.

“I totally understand why, the greens on the side really complement it as well.” You add to the conversation. The kind waiter is about to answer when a voice interrupts.

“Waiter?” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through, stealing your attention. “I ordered my steak to be medium-well, this steak is cooked medium-rare.” He points at his food, eying the waiter.

An apologetic expression spreads on the waiter's face. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take it back to the kitchen for you.” He sends Seonghwa the best smile he can manage, before disappearing into the kitchen with Seonghwa’s food.

“Why did you do that?” Your eyes are locked on Seonghwa, trying to speak in a low voice so you won’t draw attention.

“I just want what I ordered.” Seonghwa shrugs before bringing his wine glass to his lips. 

“There’s no need to be an ass about it.” 

A smirk tugs on Seonghwa’s lips. “Aww, I’m sorry.. Am I making it hard for your boyfriend?”

“What is wrong with you?”

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Would it kill you to see me be just a little happy?"

A scoff leaves his mouth. “Welcome to the real world. Maybe you’ll notice how everything isn’t perfect, sunshine.”

You want to reach across the table and rip that annoying smile off his face. Everything inside of you is boiling, even looking at him is making you feel insane. It takes everything in you not to say something rude because you’re all adults here (even if some aren't acting like it) and you want this trip to have good memories. 

You grab your wine glass and gulp down the last bit before heading to the bathrooms. 5 minutes away from Seonghwa would be enough not to scream at him. 

Luckily it isn’t filled with people in the bathroom, letting you get some time to breathe for yourself. 

You knew Seonghwa had gone through a hard time the last few years since his mom died, so you somehow always had an apology for him in your head, why he was acting like he was. But he was going personal tonight, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t an excuse to be an asshole. 

You saw the rage in your eyes as you looked at yourself, but suddenly, your attention was stolen by the door opening to the bathroom. Seonghwa’s large frame entered the room, your eyes rolling at the sight of him.

“Did I say something to trigger you?” He spoke in a low voice.

“You do that all the time, Seonghwa. Don’t act like this is any different.” You didn’t spare him a glance as you spoke, keeping your eyes on yourself in the mirror.

“You haven’t walked away like that since I said your hair looked as fried as a burnt fry at McDonald's.” He calls back to a moment a few years ago when you were also fed up with his teasing. It wasn’t even that deep of a comment, you were just not feeling it that day.

“I guess I’m not in the mood for this right now.” You respond with a lower voice. Through the mirror, you look to see if any of the stalls are taken and if anyone is listening to your conversation. It doesn’t look like it. “Also, you’re in the women's bathroom. You can’t be here.”

“Well, I upset you and wanted to talk it out.”

A part of you wants to laugh. Never have those words left his mouth.

“How mature of you.”

“I’m sorry.” His footsteps are coming closer to you, and suddenly you see him in the mirror behind you. He actually sounds like he’s apologizing, and not saying this mockingly. It catches you off guard for a few seconds, but you make eye contact with him through the mirror. He’s watching you carefully like he’s afraid to say something else to upset you.

“Didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You want to joke, but the air between you is too heavy.

“Maybe you’ll learn some new things about me on this trip.” He says with his hands resting in the front pockets of his pants. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, finally turning around towards him. “If anything, you should apologize to the waiter.” You can’t help but feel sorry for the waiter, having to run around because of Seonghwa.

“I don’t care about the waiter.” His voice is cold.

“And you care about me?” You say with a laugh, expecting him to say ‘no’ immediately, but when silence surrounds the two of you, you suddenly don’t know what to say. His eyes are just watching you, studying your face and it makes you feel a certain way you haven’t felt before. A feeling you can't pinpoint what is. 

“You know what this dress needs?” He suddenly says, completely changing the subject.

“What?”

“A necklace.” He looks down on your bare neck. 

You know this dress calls for a necklace, and you mentally cursed at yourself when you realized you had left your bag of jewelry on your desk. Luckily, that is the only thing you’ve forgotten (hopefully).

“I forgot all of my jewelry at home.” You shrug.

His eyes focus on your neck for a short moment before he reaches behind his own neck. Suddenly, a necklace you didn’t know he was wearing came into sight and he held it out in front of him. A silver necklace with white pearl pendants.

“Turn around.”

You shake your head. “I’m not wearing your-”

“Turn around.” He says more firmly, and you do as he says. Your eyes focus on your neck as he places the necklace on you, and you immediately notice how well it compliments your dress. Seonghwa’s warm fingers lightly touch the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This feels incredibly intimate, especially because you notice the way his eyes roam over you.

“It was my mothers.” Seonghwa says in almost a whisper, eyes still locked on your neck through the mirror. Your breath hitches, suddenly feeling like you shouldn’t be wearing this.

“Seonghwa.. I can’t wear this.” Your fingers touch the pendant. 

“I know she would’ve loved to see you in it.” A small smile tugs on his lips, obviously thinking about his mom. You don’t know what to say. His mom was the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and you do miss her dearly. You can’t even imagine how Seonghwa feels. “She really liked you, you know.” His eyes dart up, meeting yours through the mirror. 

“I liked her too.” You send him a smile, remembering all the good times you've shared with her.

“And I know she would've chopped my hands off if she knew I made you upset. So I’m genuinely sorry.” He looks apologetic, not an ounce of teasing evident in his voice. You’ve never shared a moment like this with him, and if you were close, you would’ve hugged him and told him everything was okay. But you can’t remember the last time you shared affection with him, so you just try your best to send him a smile through the mirror.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper, and he steps closer to you to remove some hair on your shoulder. This makes the necklace more apparent on your neck, and you smile at the view. “It’s beautiful.”

You just now notice how close you are to him, slightly feeling his front against your bare back. He has a perfect height when he stands next to you, and even more when he stands behind you like now. 

His eyes are all over you through the mirror, and the feeling is not something you ever expected to feel so exciting. You can’t help but look back at him, seeing how good his suit looks on him. You stare at the shirt he’s wearing under his jacket, and in this light, you notice that it’s made of sheer fabric, making it slightly see-through. 

You hate how much you’re staring, but you can’t help it. And when he’s staring back at you, the same look in his eyes, you know you’re in too deep.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opens, and a lady stops at the door, looking confused as if she didn't think she entered the right bathroom. Seonghwa looks at her and then back to you through the mirror.

“I better go.” He says above a whisper, looking down at you one last time before heading out of the bathroom. You don’t pay any attention to the lady entering, only focused on what just happened between you and Seonghwa. 

It takes you a moment to get back to your senses, but you eventually get there and head back to your table.

The rest of the dinner went differently. Every time you looked across the table, you'd meet Seonghwa's eyes. You'd both hold the gaze for longer than you'd anticipate, feeling heat in your cheeks before darting your eyes away from him.

You didn’t see much of the waiter for the rest of the night, Seonghwa probably scaring him away from your table. 

When you made it home to the cottage, you all started getting ready for bed. It was getting late, and you were getting tired as well. Coming up from the stairs, you walked towards your room, when suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist. Surprised, you stop your tracks and look to see Seonghwa appear from his room. His eyes met yours in an instant, standing close to you.

“I apologized to the waiter. Happy?” He said with a low voice. He almost sounds defeated, like he lost an important battle, but you can’t help but enjoy it a little bit.

“I didn’t think you cared about him?” You said, finding it new that he’s apologizing.

“I don’t, not in the slightest. Couldn’t care less about what he’s feeling.” He shrugged, and you wanted to roll your eyes before he spoke again. “But I’m trying to do the right thing here. Even if I was just making him do his job, I could’ve been a little nicer. I’ll admit.” He kept the eye contact and the soft grasp around your wrist, making you focus on him.

A smile spreads on your lips. “Should I get used to this? You apologizing? Because I kinda like it.” You tease. He scoffs, looking down at you with the same look in his eyes as earlier. The one where he studies you to the smallest details, somehow making you nervous. 

“A little dangerous starting to like something that has to do with me, don’t you think?” He teases back, a smirk growing on his face. The dimmed light in the hallway makes everything seem slightly more intimate, and with the way you’re feeling when he’s looking at you like this, you know you have to keep your shit together. 

This is Park Seonghwa. 

Yes, he has helped you with your ankle and whatever.

But you’d never be able to actually get along. You’re built to argue with him. Tease, mock, pick on, just like he does with you. The two of you don’t know any better, but somehow, looking at him right now, you can’t do that. You don’t even know what to do, because you’ve never felt this way when looking at him. 

And it’s a brand new territory.

His free hand raises, and you do nothing but wait to see where it lands, when he suddenly traces his finger from your jaw and down to your neck. You feel the necklace move under his touch, suddenly reminded that you’re wearing it. 

“Oh, the necklace.” You put your hands behind your neck to take it off, but Seonghwa shakes his head, taking your hands down. 

“Let me.” He says, and you turn around, collecting your hair to one side. Waiting for him to take it off, you suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you slightly so he has better light. But the feeling of his hands on your waist makes your heart beat faster, leaving burning marks where his fingers touched. His fingers are on your skin as he removes the necklace sends shivers down your spine, and the necklace is gone. 

But Seonghwa notices the way you’re reacting to his touch, smiling to himself as you turn back around to face him. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” You smile.

“Always.” 

With one last look, you decide to go into your room, scared of what could happen if you stayed out there any longer. 

***

You took a deep breath as you sat down on the bench at the end of the ski slope. You took a moment to watch people coming down the mountain on their skis or snowboards while you enjoyed finally being out again.

You had looked forward to this, spending the entire day here. This was one of the main reasons you even visited this cottage every year. To ski and have fun.

What you didn’t expect was the intense pain.

In your ankle? no.

Or a little, but the pain was mostly in your stomach due to your period. 

You didn’t think it would be arriving while being on this trip, but of course, it had to arrive at this time. Therefore, you didn’t have anything prepared, other than a few emergency pads. But the pain you felt was actually the worst, making you have to take a break.

You look up to see a person get close at an awfully fast speed on their snowboard, making you think they’ll crash into you but they stop right in front of you, making snow splash everywhere. You don’t have to think twice to recognize Seonghwa’s attire in front of you.

“Asshole.” You mumble as Seonghwa takes off his helmet, smiling at his own little stunt.

“You okay?” He asks, noticing the slight discomfort on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just… my ankle.” You lie. You didn’t feel like sharing with Seonghwa what was really hurting you. And your ankle did hurt a bit, so it wasn’t a complete lie. But it was definitely mostly the pain in your stomach that held you from being on the slopes right now.

“Is it getting worse?” Seonghwa asks, suddenly being back to being your doctor. 

“Yeah.” You respond, not exactly knowing what to say.

“Are you okay, honey?” Your mom suddenly appears in her ski attire, walking over to you and Seonghwa. 

“I’m fine.” You respond shortly.

“It’s her ankle.” Seonghwa says, making you want to throw a snowball in his face. Not only because it wasn’t the entire truth, but also because you know how much your mom is concerned about your ankle. You knew she wasn’t a fan of you being on the slopes already, scared that you might get as hurt as last year.

Your mom looks at you with worry. “Darling, you should take your time to heal.” She walks closer to you. “I don’t think skiing is a good idea..” Your mom doesn't hide the look on her face. You know she’s saying this with pure love, but you don’t know what else to do. This is what you came for. But she didn’t want you to get hurt, not any more than you already are.

“What else can I do?” You ask.

“You can drive to the city?” She sounds optimistic like it’s the funniest thing to do in an area filled with slopes and snow.

“To do what?” 

“I need some new ornaments for the tree. You can drive to the city and pick some for us.” She makes it sound like it’s the best idea ever. And you’ll admit; it was better than staying home while everyone else is out in the snow. 

“Fine..” 

“I’ll come with you.” Seonghwa suddenly adds to the conversation, and you and your mom both look at him.

“Are you sure?” Your mom asks, sounding slightly confused since she knows how you and Seonghwa never spend time together voluntarily. 

“Yeah, I’m getting a little sore from all the snowboarding, I could use a break,” He smiles at your mom. “Besides, with her luck, falling two years in a row, I think it’s a good idea to have someone keep an eye on her.” He smirks in your direction, but you only send back an obvious fake smile. 

Your mom’s face, on the other hand, lights up like a Christmas tree. It’s a tradition for your mom to get a new ornament for the Christmas tree every year, so you know this means more for her than it does for the rest of you. It was a tradition she shared with Seonghwa’s mom, but your mom continued it like she still had her best friend to do it with.

“Amazing! Can’t wait to see what you guys bring back.”

***

The trip to the city went as you’d expect. It wasn’t the best time of your life, but it was nice to finally be outside. You got to see the city in daylight, but it was definitely prettier in the nighttime with all the lights lighting up the sky. 

With Seonghwa’s help, you found seven ornaments - one for each of you. You picked one for yourself and your parents, while Seonghwa picked one for himself, his dad, his sister, and his mom. They were simple, the designs looking like they were supposed to be snowflakes, but they all looked different.

While Seonghwa paid for the ornaments, you looked at other Christmas decorations. There were all kinds of decorations, everything from the most elegant and minimalistic to the downright ugly. 

You stood with an elf in your hands, admiring how cute it was when another wave of pain suddenly hit your lower region. Despite living with it for years, you somehow never get used to it. You winced in pain, trying to keep a straight face when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” Seonghwa sounded worried, but you just nodded. You put down the elf and put on your best smile.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

As he opens the door for you, he still looks worried. You make your way to your car, and he unlocks it. Just as you grab the handle, you're hit with another wave of pain. You hold yourself on the stomach, slightly leaning forward, hoping to ease the discomfort. You quickly try to ignore the feeling and get into the car.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seonghwa looks at you from the driver’s seat. “Are you sick? Is it your ankle?” The questions fly out of him like there’s no tomorrow, but you shake your head, not wanting to draw attention.

“No, no.. It’s fine. Just go.” 

“Do you need to pee? Are you hungry? Do you-”

“For the love of all great things, just drive, Seonghwa.” You don’t mean to make it sound rude, but the words left your mouth before you could even think.

Seonghwa responds with a deep sigh, before starting the car. “We need to get gas before we continue on, we’re running out.” 

Silence fills the air as he drives to a gas station not far away from the city. He gets out of the car and starts filling it up with the gas you need. A short moment goes by before he opens the door to reach for his wallet, but you stop him.

“I can pay for the gas.” You say, looking for your wallet in your bag. 

“It’s fine, I’ll pay. Wait here.” His voice is cold and you watch him as he makes his way into the gas station. You sigh to yourself, annoyed that you lash out without thinking, when in fact, Seonghwa was just being nice. He was probably just worried about your foot like he had been ever since you fell. He has never shown this amount of worry for you, so it did surprise you when he took so much care of you and volunteered to drive with you to the city. 

You’re too focused on your thoughts to notice Seonghwa coming back, and entering the car. You look at him but are suddenly surprised when a small white bag is placed on your lap. He turns on the engine and drives away from the gas station. 

Curious and confused, you look in the bag, and you can’t believe what you see. It’s filled with Advils, chocolate bars, juice, water, pads, and a package of menstrual cramp relief heating pads. 

You have no idea how to react. Emotions everywhere, you almost want to cry, but you don’t. You just look at him and stare at his side profile as he focuses on driving your car.

“Thank you..” You say with a low voice.

“You’re welcome.”

Another silence.

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I’ve grown up with a mom and an older sister. I’m very much aware of periods and that people with periods go through pain.” His voice is turning softer as he speaks, not as cold as before. You look into the bag again and grab the heating pads, not sure how to use them.

You’ve used your heating pillow for ages, but of course, forgot to bring it on the trip.

“They heat up and relax the muscles in your lower abdomen so you’ll be in less pain,” Seonghwa explains like he knows how to read your mind. “I’ve heard. I haven’t tried it for myself, for obvious reasons, but my sister always uses these.” His gaze shifts between the heating pads in your hands and the road.

“Thank you..” You say once again. You feel like you’re thanking him a lot on this trip. “And I’m sorry.” You look at him, feeling bad for snapping at him when he just wanted to know if you were okay. His eyes meet yours, and after a few seconds, he sends you a smile.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” 

The annoying smile of his sends a feeling to your stomach again. The same warm, strange feeling you also felt earlier with him this week. Your breath hitches from the feeling, and you shake your head to yourself.

It’s nothing.

Don’t think about it.

***

The day after, you decided to take things a bit slow. You wanted to join the others on the slopes, but your body was simply too worn out. But that didn’t stop you from spending time at the café, located at the bottom of the slope. You decided to bring a book as you sat in the corner, watching people enter from being up on the slopes. They were all in their ski attire, ready to conquer the slopes after getting something to drink. 

The door to the cozy cafe opened and you'd recognize that helmet anywhere. Seonghwa entered by himself, taking the helmet off his head as he walked to the desk to order. You saw his eyes roaming the café, so you decided to focus on your book, deciding to look busy. You only read a few lines before a voice caught your attention.

“Hey, sunshine,” Seonghwa’s voice said, placing his helmet on the other bench at your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Got bored at the cottage.” You shrug.

He took off his big jacket and placed it on one of your seats as well. “Mind if I join you here?” Seonghwa asks as he basically has already taken over half the space at your table.

“No, go ahead.” You answer before he goes back to the desk to order. Your eyes are about to scan the book again when a new voice interrupts.

“Excuse me..” The voice says, and you look up to see a girl around the same age as you. She looks sweet and pretty, and very innocent. “Sorry, but are you dating him?” She asks shyly while pointing at Seonghwa. 

“Uhm, no.” You shake your head, slightly confused.

“Do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

“I don't think so.” You explain, telling her the truth. You have no idea what his dating life is like, but you don't think he is.

“Oh, okay.. I just didn’t want to shoot my shot if you were his girlfriend.” She smiles, before excusing herself again. Your eyes watch as she approaches Seonghwa, but you’re unable to hear what is being said between them. All you see is Seonghwa suddenly darting his eyes at you as the girl is speaking, and you look back into your book. You’re not getting further with your book, because Seonghwa comes back not long after.

“Here.” He says as he places a mug of hot cocoa in front of you. He puts one down for himself as well before sitting down at the table. You don’t recall asking him to get you this, but the fact that he did it was nice.. or whatever.

“Thank you,” Your eyes scan the cocoa, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. “So.. Did you get her number?” You ask, eying him carefully to hear his response.

“What?” He responded like he didn’t just talk to a girl who was clearly interested in him.

“That girl.. She came to me and asked if you were dating anyone and wanted to shoot your shot with you. So?”

He shook his head, grabbing a spoon to scoop some whipped cream from his drink. “I didn’t get her number. I thanked her for the opportunity, but I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why but this makes you slightly confused. Everyone could tell that Seonghwa was a beautiful human being, and it’s not the first time you've seen someone attempt to flirt with him. This makes you realize that you don’t know anything about his relationships, hookups, or people he has crushed on in the past. He had never brought anyone with him as his partner, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one. You’ve just never heard about them.

“Why? You have someone waiting at home?” You ask, feeling weirdly comfortable having this conversation.

“I don’t know, do I?” A smirk tugs on his lips before he brings the spoon with whipped cream to his mouth. Your brows shoot together, feeling confused. 

“How should I know?” You ask as you grab a spoonful of whipped cream as well. 

“I don’t know. But to answer your question; I’m not interested in anyone. As I’ve said before, you’re the only one that can handle me.” The smirk only grows on his face, and you know what he’s doing. 

It wasn’t new for Seonghwa to throw these kinds of comments your way, especially with a smirk evident on his face. He knows sending flirty remarks your way would make you uncomfortable (in the beginning), but you’ve gotten so used to it that you can’t help but laugh. It’s obvious that he only does it to be annoying, but a sarcastic laugh still finds its way out of you.

“Right, could you imagine? Us dating?” You joke.

“Would it be terrible?” He asks, teeth showing from smiling.

“We would rip off each other's heads within a week.” You answer confidently. 

“What would you do if we got married?”

“Divorce you.”

This makes him laugh, a sound that is so incredibly addicting that it’s annoying. Yet you can't help but smile.

“See that’s what I mean. Only you would say that.” Seonghwa argues like he’s actually serious about this topic.

“Like you wouldn’t do the same.” You roll your eyes, scooping another spoonful of whipped cream. You knew that if you and Seonghwa were married, it would probably turn into a competition of who could sign the divorce papers first. Yes, you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, and you’ll admit; he has been doing some very nice things to you. But you’re convinced he would never actually consider taking this a step further. You’re not his type, you know that. 

Seonghwa leans forward towards you, speaking in a volume that makes this seem like an important topic.

“Be honest with me, you couldn’t ever see us dating?”

The fact that he’s still talking about this, is making you question everything.

“I don’t know, is it important?” You shrug.

“It’s a simple question.” He leans his head slightly to the side, questioning you. 

“Could you see us dating?” You ask back.

“I asked you first.”

He leans back in his seat, waiting for your answer. The answer is simple, right? Yet you don’t know why you’re not spitting out a hard “no”. Instead, you’re taking your time, reading his body language, trying to figure out how to answer this the best way.

“I mean.. There’s a lot of things to take into consideration when talking about topics like that- what?” You ask in the middle of your sentence when you see a smile growing on his face like he’s entertained.

“Just answer yes or no.” 

“Then… No.” You finally answer.

“Why not?” 

Growing tired of him questioning you about this like it’s actually important, you release a deep sigh and close your book. “Because you’re a menace 92% of the time.” 

The topic is making your hands sweaty and your mouth dry for some unknown reason. You grab your hot cocoa after eating most of the whipped cream on top, blowing on the drink so you won’t burn yourself. 

“And the remaining 8%?” He asks, also taking his hot cocoa in his hands.

You scan his face for a moment, trying to figure out the best answer without boosting his ego too much. “You’re bearable.”

“I can work with that.” He shrugs with a smirk before taking a sip of his drink.

***

Seonghwa decided to join you on your way back to the cottage after drinking the hot cocoa. You don’t mind it, now having a feeling that you can actually have a normal conversation with him.

It’s a Christmas miracle. 

“Have you ever watched the Gringe? You two are like the same person.” Seonghwa enters the living room and throws himself on the couch next to you.

Nevermind.

You roll your eyes, not sparing him a glance. "Funny." You say. 

You fix the heating pad on your stomach, feeling the pain slowly fading away. He notices your hands on your stomach and the crumbled chocolate wrap next to you.

“You know, there’s another way to get rid of period pain.” He says, and you feel his eyes on you. 

"I can’t believe that I’m asking you, out of all people, but what?” You turn your head to look at him, and a smirk suddenly makes its way to his lips.

“Orgasms.”

You throw your head back along with a deep sigh. “You just had to, didn’t you? You just had to make it sexual?” Your reaction makes him laugh, a sound you’ve gotten awfully used to the last few days. 

“I’m being deadly serious, though. It’s scientifically proven.” He sits up more straight and turns to look at you. “It obviously doesn’t have to be done by a partner, you can do it by yourself. I’m just saying..” He ends it with a shrug and holds his hands up in defense.

“Well thank you, but no thank you.”

“Just thought I’d share my knowledge with you.. Also to let you know that I completely understand if the pain gets too much and you need to.. you know.” The smirk is evident in his voice, but you just send him a glare.

“I repeat.. Thank you, but no thank you.”

“Alright..” He lies down on the couch again and a silence surrounds you. You turn your head to look at him but are met with a smirk and you don’t have to think twice to know what he’s thinking about. 

“Seonghwa, I will knock you on your fat ass if you even think about it.”

Another laugh escapes him, and you can’t help but smile at the sound. “Alright, alright.. Sorry.”

Before you actually knock him out, your parents enter the cottage along with Seonghwa’s dad. Not even a minute goes by before your mom is in the living room, a huge smile on her face and eyes on you.

“Honey! You never guess what happened!” Her excitement steals both your and Seonghwa’s attention. “We were at the ski resort, and we met the waiter from dinner the other night!” She’s practically jumping and clapping, overly excited about this.

“Oh, really?” You say, slightly confused. You haven’t thought much about the waiter since the dinner. He was really cute and seemed to give you a new form of attention, but for some reason, your mind has been a little.. occupied the last few days.

“Yes, and he immediately recognized us and he asked for your number!” Her words almost make your eyes pop out of your skull.

“My number?” 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted it, but I saw the way he looked at you at dinner,” She wiggled her eyebrows, acting like the ultimate wingwoman. “Instead I asked for his on your behalf, then you can text him if you’d like. He said he would like to take you to dinner before we leave.” She handed you a napkin with a number and his name on it, and you looked at it for a few seconds, contemplating how you should feel.

“Oh.. Cool, thanks.”

You were happy, of course you were. A guy who looks incredibly cute is requesting to take you out to dinner. What’s not to like?

But for some reason, a teeny tiny piece of you don’t want this. But a dinner with him won’t hurt anyone, right? 

***

It’s been a few days since you got the waiter’s phone number. You made the decision to text him later that night, thanking him for being such a good waiter on the first night. The conversation then escalated to him inviting you to dinner the day after tomorrow, on the 23rd. A lot of thoughts roamed your mind, wondering if you should do it or not. He was really nice, and seemed like a good guy, so why weren’t you ecstatic about this?

You ended up saying yes, throwing yourself out there. It’s just a date. Besides, he probably lives in the area and you live a few hours away. Most likely, this won’t even work out, but a fun night out could be needed.

You’ve also had a nice few days, feeling extremely happy. Your period is over, your ankle is feeling better and everyone seems to be in a good mood. The other day, your mom even commented on the fact that you and Seonghwa aren’t bickering as much as you used to. You didn’t know what to say about that, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

It’s not like you had an answer to that, anyway. 

You walk down the stairs, about to head to the kitchen when something catches your eye. You stop in your tracks and look into the living room. All by himself, Seonghwa is standing next to the Christmas tree, looking at one specific ornament. Slowly, you make your way towards him, watching as his fingers trace the ornament.

“Hi.” You say in a low volume, trying not to startle him. He looks back at you, putting on his best smile, but you can tell something is roaming his mind.

“Hey.” His gaze returns to the ornament, and you quickly realize it’s the one he chose for his mom when you and him were shopping for Christmas ornaments. It’s elegant, simple, and definitely her style.

“It’s pretty.” You say, keeping your eyes on the snowflake.

“Yeah.. I feel like she would have chosen this one.” Seonghwa’s eyes still don't leave it, and he’s watching it with so much love. Like he’s actually looking at his mom.

“She did. Through you.” You look away from the ornament and turn to look at him. Even more love shines through his eyes, and you can’t stop looking at him. You can tell he is thinking about his mom and all she did for him - which was a lot. She was a wonderful mom who did anything for her kids. When Seonghwa was a kid, she never missed a football game, she supported him and his sister with everything and kept a smile on her face during anything. 

“She loved Christmas,” Seonghwa says, clearly thinking of memories with his mom. “She loved coming here to the cottage, celebrating the holidays with you and your family. It was when she was the happiest.” His gaze finally leaves the snowflake decorating the tree, looking to meet your eyes.

You can’t help but think of the memories with her either. “She defined Christmas for me. I remember when we were visiting you guys in the summertime, she would make us look through the photo albums of earlier Christmases.” You find yourself laughing with Seonghwa at the memory, clearly remembering how much she loves Christmas.

“Yeah.. she was really into making memories. She loved it,” His smile froze before it slowly fell again, something clearly replacing the happy thoughts. “Ironic, how that’s the only thing I have of her now.” Sadness appears in his voice, as his eyes go back to the ornament. 

“That’s not true, Seonghwa,” You shake your head, suddenly getting the urge to grab his hand, but you don’t. “You have all the pictures, you wear her necklace, and you have us. And I know she’s here with us. Do you really think she wouldn’t be here with you for Christmas? She would never do that.” You have to fight yourself not to have tears in your eyes, but it gets even harder when Seonghwa looks at you with glistening eyes. 

Seonghwa takes in a deep breath of air and looks up at the ceiling. He blinks a few times like he’s trying his best not to cry in front of you, but you somehow wish he would. You want him to know that it’s okay. That it’s okay to cry and miss her. Because you do too, and you can’t even imagine how much pain he feels every day, not being able to touch her. Talk to her. Be with her.

He releases his breath of air and looks back down at you. “Thank you.”

His eyes are still glistening, but it feels nice talking to him about this. You’ve never talked much about his mother’s passing, not being good at expressing emotions to one another. But this trip has opened up something for both of you, allowing you to talk about your feelings. 

Feeling slightly restless, you send him one last smile, before turning around. 

“Wait..” Seonghwa stops you before you manage to walk away, and you turn around as you wait for him to say something. His eyes flicker for a moment as he tries to figure out how to word the thoughts in his head. “I’m sorry.”

The apology came out of nowhere, making your brows shoot together in question.

“For?”

He takes another moment to collect his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting the last few..” He looks up to think but scoffs at himself. “The last few years, at this point.” He looks deep into your eyes, wanting you to know that he’s not messing around right now. “I’ve said some mean things and I’ve been way over the line and you didn’t deserve that. I guess after my mom passed, I held so much anger inside of me because I regretted so many things when it came to her. So instead of dealing with it in a healthy way, I took it out on you. And don’t ask me why, because I don’t know, honestly. Maybe it was because you reminded me of her with your kind personality and everything, and so it just made me angry that she wasn’t here..” He looked down between you, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

“Either way, it doesn’t make it okay, and I’m really sorry if I’ve said some things to upset you.. Which I know I have, but I can’t remember all of them.” Seonghwa tries to send you a smile, but it ends up looking a little awkward. 

You didn’t expect this at all. Your mouth feels dry from this big apology, not knowing what to say. A part of you always sensed that his mother’s passing triggered something in him to make him angry with you, but you didn’t know why. And it seemed like he didn’t either, but you could tell that he was genuinely sorry. 

You send him a smile, not wanting him to feel bad anymore. 

“Thank you. And I’m sorry too if I’ve ever said something back in rage.” You apologize, knowing for sure that you’ve said some things to him that weren't very nice either.

“You don’t have to apologize, I probably deserved it.” Seonghwa tries to joke, forcing a smile. “I just don’t want my mom to be disappointed with me.”

Once again, your heart breaks for him. You know how much she meant to him.

“Seonghwa, your mom was an amazing and beautiful woman. She raised you and your sister to be good people, and you are. The two of us have not always gotten along the best, but if it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t even be able to stand up right now, hadn’t you taken so much care of my ankle. You bought me a bunch of stuff to help me get through my period. Or last year when I fell on my skis and I couldn’t walk, I know you were the one who bought me my favorite brownies because no one knows I love them but you. Or three years ago when my car crashed, you drove me to the mechanic and when I had to pay a week later, you had paid for it and asked them to lie and tell me I had won some stupid competition that made it free.”

“Why do you think I paid for it?”

“I knew something was up so I asked for the details and they couldn’t lie anymore. I saw the payment. P.S.H written with your bank account number.” You explained, making his eyes flicker.

“Well.. You didn’t have a job at the time.” He started excusing, but it only proved your point further.

“Exactly. And that’s what I mean, Seonghwa. Your mom could never be disappointed with you, because even though the two of us weren’t even friends, you still helped me, and you help everyone around you. Your mom loves you, and I know she’s watching over you with nothing but care. She would be really proud of you.” 

This is what pushes Seonghwa over the edge. He looks away from you and a sob escapes him. For the first time, you see Seonghwa cry. Not even right after his mom passed did you see him cry. But now, you see tears cover his cheeks, despite him desperately trying to hide his face with his hands. 

Doing something you’ve never done, you take a few steps closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. This is not about the past, how much you used to fight, or if you’re even friends. Right now, he’s crying because of the loss of his mother, and you need to be there for him.

You feel Seonghwa wrap his arms around you too, fully accepting this as he tries to control his sobs. Your head is pressed against his chest, and you’re able to hear his heart pounding fast. It’s a sound so intimate and it only makes you want to be closer to him. To hear him talk for hours about what is roaming his mind, no matter how emotional it might get.

You don’t know how long you’re hugging him, but his sobs quietly die down, and his heart starts to beat at a normal pace. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles in your embrace, and you pull back to see his eyes slightly red and puffy. You’re not ready to leave him yet, not wanting him to be alone.

“Are you busy?” You suddenly ask. He seems a little taken aback by your sudden question but shakes his head.

“No.”

“Do you want to watch ‘Home Alone’ with me?” You point to the TV, thinking this would be a good way to end the day. A smile creeps up on his lips, and he nods.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

Everyone has gone to bed, and after spending what feels like hours being nervous about your date in two days, you decide to head to bed. After changing into your oversized nightshirt, you carefully make your way to the bathroom. You make sure not to make too much noise so you won’t wake up the rest, and start getting ready to brush your teeth. 

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opens, and Seonghwa walks in, unaware that you’re here.

“Oh sorry, I thought you had gone to bed.” He excuses, stopping his tracks. You can’t help but notice how he’s only in his sweatpants, his bare chest visible. You have to fight everything in you not to look down at his naked torso, but it’s almost impossible. 

“I’m about to.” You say, holding the toothbrush in hand.

“Can I brush my teeth?” He asks, pointing at his toothbrush by the sink.

“Sure.” You answer, taking a step away to give him some space.. and not to be too close to him, because he looks better than you imagined, and you're not sure how to behave right now. 

He walks to the sink, and as you brush your teeth, you slowly find your eyes traveling to him. You’ve seen his chest before, but that was years ago when you went to the beach as teens. But now, seeing him as an adult, he’s completely changed. He’s slender with a thin waist, but still lean and muscles visible. His sweatpants are hanging low, making you able to see his entire abdomen and down to the top of his pelvis area through the mirror. 

Never have you seen him like this before, but it’s definitely doing something to you. You feel something in your stomach, the same thing you’ve felt before. And it’s making you want to go absolutely crazy.

But little do you know that Seonghwa is doing anything in his power not to look at you. When he walked out and saw you in your big oversized t-shirt, covering your entire upper body and stopping right at the thighs, he thought that would be the end of him. Your hair is in a messy bun and you look so cozy and comfortable in your shirt. He’s not sure if you’re wearing something underneath, but it doesn’t look like it, and that alone is making his mind go to places it shouldn’t. 

Does he feel your eyes on him? Of course, he does. 

And it’s making him go crazy.

But he can’t look at you or react, because he’s doing everything in his power to think of other things than you, or else a certain part of him would get very.. excited, and in these gray sweatpants, it will be more visible than normal. 

You finish brushing your teeth before him, and you take a step towards the sink. He’s giving you space by taking a step back, but he shouldn’t have done that. Now he has a complete view of you as you’re bending over to spit in the sink, and your shirt slightly raises, still not giving the impression that you’re wearing something underneath. 

He’s about to stop brushing his teeth so he can go back to his room, not being able to stay here a minute longer, but you’re meeting his eyes through the mirror and you send him a relaxed smile.

“Goodnight.” You say just above a whisper.

“Goodnight.” He replies, and you walk back to your room before he can leave. You didn’t get to do your skincare or brush your hair, you just had to get out of there. 

His body was looking amazing, and afraid of suddenly embarrassing yourself, you had to leave. 

After waiting for a few minutes in your room for him to leave, you finally got the chance to finish your night routine. When you opened your door, you found that the bathroom was unoccupied. So, you tiptoed your way back and completed your routine, brushing your hair, doing your nightly skincare routine, and ensuring that you are completely prepared before returning to your room.

Stepping back into the hallway, you walk past the closed door to Seonghwa’s room, but stop when you hear a certain sound. 

A soft grunt came from the other side of the door, only to be followed by a light moan. Your immediate thought is to walk away, but for some reason, you couldn’t get yourself to move. Seonghwa's voice released another moan, sounding so soft and somehow rough at the same time, and before you knew it, your thoughts were running wild. Without realizing it, you take a step closer to his door to get a better listen.

You shouldn't be doing this. But as another moan escapes from behind the door, your heart races. Seonghwa’s voice sounds so mild and soft as these moans continue on, making you picture what he looks like. 

His gray sweatpants pulled down slightly as he strokes himself. Bare chest and in his bed, eyes closed as he bites his lip to quiet down the sounds. His hair messy, possibly sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Moan.

Shivers all over your body from the picture your mind just created. You know he looks absolutely gorgeous because he always does. But this is making you go crazier than ever before, and a sudden need for him is taking over you.

A creaking from the floor underneath you woke you up from your daydreaming, and a longer pause from the moans filled the air. Panic rises inside of you, so you hurry back to your own room. Closing the door behind you, your heart beats fast against your chest. 

Not-so-innocent thoughts still roam your mind as you get under the sheets. Hopefully, he didn’t hear you outside. If he did, you’ll just say you went to the bathroom. 

But never has this happened before, making you wonder what would’ve happened if he caught you listening. 

Before you know it, you’re in a deep sleep, the last thing you think of is Seonghwa.

***

The texts between you and the waiter have been rather superficial so far, not exactly knowing what to talk about yet. Hopefully, the talk will be smooth when you’re on the actual date.

Another day has gone and you went to the city to spend some time and buy some last Christmas gifts. The entire day was spent walking, and you'll admit that your ankle was starting to hurt. You tried pushing away the pain but ended up driving home.

This resulted in you saying no to having dinner in the city. It was your dad's idea, but even the thought of walking anymore was already hurting your ankle, so you told the others to just enjoy a nice dinner in the city. 

Surprised, Seonghwa didn’t join the rest either. You only overheard him telling them to have a nice evening, and then your parents left, along with Seonghwa’s dad. You knew they’d have a great time, probably going out for drinks after dinner.

Or so you hoped, because it was now 9:30 in the evening, and they were still not home yet. 

You switched the TV channel in the living room. Seonghwa walked in, sat down, and watched in silence.

Of course, you hadn’t mentioned anything about your little meeting in the bathroom last night and what it led to for you. And thankfully, he hadn’t either, so you were able to wake up today with a fresh mind.

“Why didn’t you wanna go out with the others?” You asked, changing to another channel again.

“Didn’t feel like going out tonight..” He shrugged. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, only looking for something interesting to watch. Every channel showed the same kind of low-budget Christmas movies on every channel, except one channel with a weird dating show called ‘Date My Mom’.

“So..” Seonghwa starts saying next to you, a few seconds of silence as you continue changing channels. “You’re gonna have dinner with that waiter?” 

“Yeah.. We’re going out tomorrow,” You respond, not looking at him. Just thinking of it, your heart starts to beat a little faster. The dating scene has always been uncomfortable to you, having gone on some awful dates in the past. “I’m a little nervous, I overthink everything. What to eat, what to wear..” You take a moment to think, considering your choices of clothes. You didn’t pack much fancy clothes, but you did have some options. “Maybe I could wear that red dress from the other night?” You think loud to yourself.

“No.” Seonghwa says.

“No?” Your gaze turns to him. “Why? I thought it was pretty..”

“I guess, but he has already seen that dress on you.” He shrugs, and you guess he has a point. But it is your favorite dress, and you feel confident in it. That makes a question pop into your head.

“Now that we’re at the topic and you're a guy; do guys notice what girls are wearing and remember it? Or do they not care?” You fully don’t care what’s on the TV now, turning your body towards Seonghwa to hopefully get some tips for tomorrow. Plus, you’re also just curious.

“Oh, we notice.” Seonghwa sounds confident in his answer, looking at you with a cocky smile.

“But don’t you just remember it on girls you’re interested in or girls in general?”

“It depends, the same way you do for guys,” He looks back at the screen, but your eyes staring at him, has his head turned to you, looking slightly confused. “What?”

“Have you ever put thought into what I was wearing?” You ask without holding back. Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have asked Seonghwa this question. But you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, so you felt like you could ask him without making it weird.

“Maybe.”

He answers like it isn’t a big deal, but your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. 

“Really? What was I wearing?” Your whole body is now turned towards him, curious to know his answer.

“I think we’re gonna end this conversation here. Goodnight.” He stands up from the couch and makes his way to the stairs.

“Seonghwa! Please.”

“No, you’re just gonna rub it in my face. Goodnight!” His back is still turned to you as he reaches the stairs.

“Noo, I promise I won’t!” 

He stops in his tracks, releasing a deep sigh. He looks back at you, looking slightly annoyed. "Goodnight… “ His words are harsh, but when he turns around to walk up the stairs, he takes a moment, before looking back at you again. “The red dress.”

A subtle smirk appears on his lips before he disappears up the stairs, leaving you frozen on the couch. The way his eyes held a hint of something unknown, something hidden, made your heart beat faster than normal.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at nothing for a few minutes before you decide to head upstairs as well. A shower is necessary, so you head to the bathroom and take a well-deserved shower. Your eyes linger on Seonghwa’s door for a few seconds before walking into the bathroom. The seating area in the shower makes it take a bit longer than normal since you enjoy sitting there a bit too much under the warm water. In your defense, your ankle hurts when you stand up too long.

Finishing up in the shower, you realize that you forgot your night clothes in your room. With a sigh, you dry yourself off and wrap the towel around your body before hurrying into your room. You close your door behind you, and just as you’re about to reach for something to put on, your eyes notice something red lying by itself on the chair. 

A smirk spreads on your lips as your hands reach for your red dress, slowly putting it on. You smile to yourself when you see yourself in nothing but the dress Seonghwa just admitted to think of. Silently walking out of your room, you find yourself in the dimmed-lit hallway. A few knocks on the closed door in front of you have your heart beat a little faster than normally, but the thought of teasing a little is just what you need.

The door opens and Seonghwa comes into the frame, bare chest, and gray sweatpants. The same look as yesterday with the sweatpants hanging dangerously low. Just a second passed after seeing you in the red dress in front of his door, and he was sighing deeply.

“What are you doing?” He asks, annoyed. 

You smile teasingly, looking down at yourself. “I was just trying out clothes for the date, and you’re sure I shouldn’t wear this?” Your hands run down the sides of your waist and to your hips, focusing on the way the dress hugs your body.

“Are you trying to piss me off or do you actually wanna know what I think?” Seonghwa’s eyes flicker down to your hips for a second before going back to your eyes and staying there. Like he won’t let you win this one.

“A little bit of both maybe?” You smirk, and suddenly your eyes lose the fight, slowly sinking down to his chest. Right now, you know you're in deep water. It's a dangerous game you've decided to play, but it's somehow making you want to do this even more.

But realizing that you aren’t being as tough as you imagined you’d be, you look up to see him starting to smirk like he knows what you’re thinking, “I think..” He steps out of his room, slowly approaching you until you’re pressed up against the wall behind you. “You’re playing a game with me. But it’s not working, Red dress. Go to bed.” Seonghwa then turns around, but without thinking, you grab his arm and pull him back. He rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed. “What do you want me to say? That I think you’re attractive?” 

“Do you?”

The question throws him off for a second, but he fights the tug on his lips at your bravery. You’re never this pushy, it’s always him “flirting” in the most unhinged way, so this is a thrill to see.

“You’re a menace.”

“Do you?” You try again.

Seonghwa spends a few seconds with flickering eyes, trying to read your gaze and contemplating what to say. Choosing not to give you the satisfaction, he releases himself from your soft grip. “Goodnight.” He says with a soft voice before turning around to walk away.

“Are you scared?” You challenge.

His body stops, muscles on the back tensing. “You really are trying to piss me off,” He says as he turns around, quickly moving closer to you. You suck in a harsh breath, backing up against the wall when he’s suddenly back in front of you.

“I think that your body looks amazing in that dress,” He starts, eyes looking down on your body. His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in. “The color matches your hair perfectly, the cut on the front, the back showing just enough skin..” His fingers trace your waist and mixed with the way his low voice describes the dress on you, you feel the goosebumps all over your skin. He seems to notice your reaction because a scoff leaves his lips, but he doesn’t stop tracing his fingers on the fabric. “Honestly speaking, if I were the man who was to date you while you are wearing this dress, I’d have a time figuring out whether I would rather rip it off you or fuck you in it,”

You completely stop breathing at this point. This is not like the other times he has said some shit like this. He means it.

Seonghwa leans further towards you, and you feel his lips slightly grace your ear. “But I’m not that man, so it doesn’t matter,” He whispers before leaning back, looking into your eyes. “There, I said it. Happy now?” 

Not knowing what to do or say, you just look into his dark eyes. You thought you had this when you knocked on his door, but he has you completely wrapped around his finger. A smirk spreads on his lips, and you feel his finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards. The expression of lust is so evident in his eyes.

“Are you scared?” He challenges, leaning in, but he doesn't kiss you. You feel his breath, you can almost feel how it is to kiss him, but he doesn’t do it. He’s playing with you. He’s doing what the two of you do best, and he wants you to take it to the next step.

And that you do.

Fed up with the teasing, you lean in and crash your lips against his. Like you’ve both been longing for each other, you wrap your arms around the other to get as close as possible. Seonghwa’s tongue slips in between your lips, and you let him have you as much as you suddenly crave him.

A subtle moan comes from Seonghwa, and you’re reminded of overhearing his moans. Getting even more turned on, you take one of his hands that is wrapped around your waist and guide it to your hips, silently telling him that you want this. 

The way your body fits perfectly in his hands leaves you even more thirsty for him. 

You feel his hand slide down to your thigh, slow fingers tracing your skin before you feel his touch at your heat.

The kiss breaks and Seonghwa looks down at you with a tiny crease in the middle of his forehead. “You’re not wearing any underwear.. You wanted this to happen?” 

“Maybe.” You whisper, not knowing if you should feel confident or slightly embarrassed. But you know Seonghwa is into it when he smiles and you feel one of his fingers run between your folds. 

“You’re such a little slut, I’m gonna have to take care of you.” He starts using two of his fingers to stimulate your clit, the feeling being absolutely addicting. You don’t know if it’s the feeling of doing something in the middle of the hallway or the fact that it’s Seonghwa who is fingering you, but the pleasure is out of this world. You’re already wet, and Seonghwa notices, so he uses the opportunity to slide two of his slender fingers into you and a muffled moan escapes your mouth. A smirk reaches his lips. “The house is empty, moan all you want, baby.”

His fingers are long, and you can’t help but clench around them. You feel him curl his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t know felt so good. Throwing your head back in an attempt to keep yourself from going insane, Seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss your neck. Another moan escapes your lips as you feel his fingers work in and out of you at a faster pace. His other hand keeps a grip on your waist, holding you steady. 

Every thought is lost in your brain as Seonghwa angles his fingers and makes sure to be knuckles deep into you. Him being the tease he is, he slows down the pace when you start feeling your orgasm build up in your stomach, resulting in you starting to ride his fingers yourself. You're earned with a smile from Seonghwa, as your arms wrap around him to keep you steady.

“That's it, ride my fingers, you're doing so good.” He compliments. The way his low voice speaks makes you clench around his fingers again and the orgasm slowly starts forming in your stomach again. “Gonna cum already? You like having my fingers fuck you?” 

“Y-Yes.” You manage to get out, but the orgasm approaches fast, faster than you’ve ever tried before. “Fuck, Seonghwa, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” He whispers and fastens the pace again. In a second, you’re doing everything you can to keep yourself on your legs as your orgasm approaches. The sounds of Seonghwa’s fingers in your pussy are echoing through the hallway, followed by your loud moans. His name slips out between your lips and a smile tugs on his lips. “That’s it, say my name.”

His eyes are studying your face as you ride your orgasm, not missing a glimpse of this moment. You meet his eyes, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. You then realize how much you missed his lips on yours already, and you feel him pull out his fingers to focus on the kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, you’re both hungry for each other. 

“What should I do with you?” Seonghwa asks as he pulls back for a second.

You’re quick to answer. “Fuck me.” 

“My room or yours?” 

“I don’t care.”

Seonghwa is definitely taking the lead and guides you into your bedroom. Your brain is nothing but Seonghwa, so you couldn't care less which bed you end up in. Your lips are on his again as he moves you both to your bed. Suddenly feeling something behind your thighs, you feel Seonghwa push you back, landing on the bed, before crawling on top of you. 

His hands are all over your body, trying to touch every inch, when a groan escapes from the back of his throat. “You know what? Fuck this dress, take it off.” Seonghwa then helps you up on your knees so you can get out of the dress, pulling it over your head. Seeing you completely naked in front of him, his smile only grows as he sees how stunning you look. 

Feeling overwhelmed, he grabs your face to kiss you as he stands next to the bed, you on your knees on the mattress. His bare skin under your fingers is driving you crazy, so as your tongue moves with his, you can't help but play with the elastic band around his waist, holding up the sweatpants. A growing bulge is making its appearance under the fabric. The thought of seeing every part of his body is making you feral, and he senses your neediness because he pulls back and looks down at your hands playing with the rim of his sweatpants.

“I guess, technically, you still owe me telling you what to do for a day, because of our little bet and I wanna hear how fucking stupid you sound gagging on my dick. Can you do that?” 

Seonghwa knows exactly what to say, because something switches inside of you, and you can’t wait to taste him. Feel him and have him all to yourself. 

You nod and lower yourself to pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers. The sight of his cock is absolutely astonishing. It’s way bigger than you thought, and the veins running up and down make it look so pretty. Feeling excited to make Seonghwa feel as good as he made you feel, you lean down and start tracing your tongue on his shaft. Starting from the bottom, tongue flat against his cock you lick all the way to the head where pre-cum is glistening, earning a moan from Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa’s eyes don't leave you for a second, but he grows slightly impatient when you decide to tease a little. The tip of your tongue traces along the veins of his hard cock, not ever taking him fully into your mouth. Looking up into his eyes as you do so, you see him growing more and more frustrated, his breath getting more and more uneven. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair and yanks it down so you’re forced to look into his eyes. He bends down so your faces are close, having a look in his eyes you haven’t seen before, but it turns you on even more. 

“One more tease and I will pin you down and pump you full of cum, understood?” He speaks just above a whisper, and the thought of him doing this to you tempts you to continue teasing him, but a part of you wants to hear him praise you. To say how good you are for him, so you put him in your mouth and start moving your head. He’s stretching your mouth because of how wide he is, but you’re determined to try and have all of him in your mouth. 

“Mmm, good girl. Just like that.” Seonghwa praise makes you go faster, using your hands too. But wanting to see how much of him you can fit, you try to take all of him in your throat. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair, carefully guiding you. The taste of pre-cum runs down your throat, and you feel your nose hit his pubic area, taking all of him in your mouth. You feel tears stinging in your eyes, and suddenly a gagging sound comes from your throat. Seonghwa pulls back, leaving strings of a mix between spit and precum between you and his cock. Finally being able to breathe properly, you gasp for air and a scoff leaves Seonghwa. “Aww, is it too much for you?”

He almost sounds like he’s mocking you, but you shake your head.

“N-No..” Your throat hurts a bit as you speak.

“You sound so cute,” He caresses his thumb on your cheek, babying you like you didn’t just choke on his cock. “Now tell me.. How bad do you wanna do this?” He pulls you up on your knees so you’re face to face, his hands steadying you. One of his hands goes under your chin, thumb running over your lips to smear out his precum on your lips.

“So bad, Seonghwa. I want this.” And you do. You’ve never felt so hungry for someone.

“That’s it. Now be a good girl and sit on my dick,” 

It takes no time for you both to get onto the bed, Seonghwa lying down with you sitting on top of him. He strokes his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance, teasing you.

“You think you can take this cock?” He asks, looking deeply into your eyes. You want to scoff, knowing it’s probably gonna be the biggest size you’ve ever had in you, but you won’t feed his ego with that information.

“Please, don’t think too highly of - ah!” Your sentence is interrupted by Seonghwa pushing his cock inside of you, slowly stretching you out. 

“Sorry, what were you saying? I didn’t get that,” He teases, pushing you down so you’re taking him all inside of you. You can’t even think straight, the only thing in your brain is the feeling of him. “Isn’t it nice? Feeling so full?”

“Mh-hm.” You nod as you bite your lip, finally sitting down fully on top of him. He hits the right spot inside of you immediately, but he doesn’t move yet.

“Do you have any idea of how bad I’ve wanted this? Ever since the dinner night when you wore that fucking dress, I’ve wanted to fuck the shit out of you.” His hands run down your thighs, eyes taking in how you look on top of him. “I had to touch myself to the thought of you, but you already know that, don’t you? You’ve been listening on the other side of the door.” He smiles, and you meet his eyes. You’re too focused on his huge size that you can’t even find the ability to be embarrassed. 

You try to move up so he can start going in and out of you, but his hands hold you down, keeping you from getting any friction. 

“Seonghwa, please..”

“Please what?” He teases.

“Don’t tease me, please. Just move.” You beg, but he doesn’t look satisfied. ‘You can do better than that’ his expression says. An unsatisfied groan leaves you. “Please just fuck me. Fuck me and make me cum, please.”

A smile creeps up on his lips. “There you go, baby,” 

Without warning, he switches you both around so he’s on top, angled between your legs. A deep thrust surprises you, making you gasp.

“Oh my god.” You moan, fingers gripping onto the sheets under you. Seonghwa continues to thrust deep into you, slowly increasing the speed. He sits up, angled so he gets a perfect view of his cock going in and out of your cunt.

“You can take it, can’t you? Like a good slut?” His hands grab your waist, now going at a fast pace. It’s hard to get any words out, your brain is completely shut off, but you manage to say a few words still.

“Yes, I know I can. Just for you.” You say, words barely pronounced right. This takes Seonghwa into a new world, leaning down to kiss your neck. Hands finding yours, he merges his fingers with yours as he starts whispering in your ear.

“That’s right, tell me what a slut you are. Tell me how fucking badly you need me to fuck you. Tell me every sick and twisted thing you want me to do to you.” He ordered, still going at a fast pace. His lips find your neck again, leaving kisses all over you.

“Fuck me. You can do anything you want with me. I’m yours and you can use me whenever you-” You don’t get to finish the sentence before another loud moan fights its way out of your mouth. You’re sure his name came out of your mouth too at some point, but right now, you don’t know. You don’t have any control over your body, you’re completely in Seonghwa’s control.

“Fuck, I love hearing you scream for me,” Seonghwa says in your ear, using one of his hands to hold your legs open for him as he continues to thrust. A smile tugs on his lips as you moan again. “You think your little waiter can make you feel so good?”

“No, only you can.” You don’t even have to think twice. You’re sure no one can make you feel this good besides Seonghwa.

“That’s right, let’s make sure you won’t forget that,” Seonghwa suddenly pulls out and sits up. He turns you around so you’re on your stomach, and you feel him positioning himself at your entrance again. Your legs are locked under him as he enters you again fully before hovering over you, back against his front as he fucks you into the mattress. His hands push you down, forcing you to just take him as you lie on the bed.

“Shit.. I wish you could see how fucking amazing you look with my cock in you. You’re so pretty.” He leans down to press multiple kisses on your shoulders, his fingers finding yours again to intertwine them. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, and quickly you feel your second orgasm form in your stomach.

“Seonghwa, I-I’m gonna cum.” You say, head against the mattress. This only makes him go faster and deeper.

“Cum for me again, I know you can do it.” He says, and not a second passes before your legs are shaking and you clench around his cock. This makes Seonghwa moan loud too, feeling his orgasm approach at a fast pace.

“I gotta cum, baby.” He warns, fucking you fast and deep as he pounds you through your orgasm. 

“Cum in me, please.” You moan, wanting him to release inside of you. You’re still in the middle of your orgasm when Seonghwa thrusts a last time before spilling his load inside of you. His moans are prettier than you could’ve ever imagined, way better than what you overheard, and you feel his warm cum spread inside of you, leaking out while he’s still inside.

“Fuck.. Shit, you feel so good.” He thrusts a few more times, wanting as much as possible to fill your hole, before losing the strength in his arms and relaxing on top of you. 

You feel his heart beating fast against your back, both of your bodies sticky from the sweat. Deep and fast breaths are the only things heard in the room, both of you trying to get back to your normal breathing. You feel his hand run through your hair as soft kisses are placed on your shoulders. Without realizing, feeling a million emotions all at once, you can’t help but smile. He’s still inside of you, but you like it. This closeness, the amount of kisses he’s showering you with. It’s something you never expected to happen, but it has never felt better.

“Are you okay?” He asks caringly, removing some of your hair so he can see the side of your face. 

You nod, getting back to your normal breathing.

“I think I need a new shower. I’m all sweaty.” You admit, feeling him remove himself from you. He places a last kiss on your temple before pulling out of you.

“That makes two of us.” He says before getting out of bed. You’re about to get up, but Seonghwa catches you by surprise and takes you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom in bridal style (not something new for you) and carefully, he places you on the bench in the huge shower. Your legs are weak after the intense session you two shared, so you’re thankful for him carrying you. He’s out of the bathroom a second later, leaving you confused, but he’s back a moment after with his sweatpants and some clothes for you. 

Your eyes follow him as he’s in his own world, turning on the water.

“What are you doing?” You ask from your seat.

“You usually take up all the hot water. Let's share it this time,” Seonghwa holds out his hand for you to take. His eyes have a warmth in them, something so full of care that you couldn’t ever say no to this. You grab his hand and stand up, moving closer to him. 

The shower is big enough for both of you, but you don’t move around much, only watching as Seonghwa adjusts the water to the right temperature and takes the loofah in his hands. He turns you around so your back is facing him, and you feel him start washing your body.

“You want your hair washed too?” He asks, his voice incredibly soft-spoken. 

“No, just my body.” You smile, not knowing what to do. He doesn’t respond, just continues to use the loofah on your body to clean you. His front is against your back, but not once is there any hint of something sexual in the shower. Seonghwa doesn’t lead up to anything, only kisses your shoulder once in a while as his arms wrap around you to wash your front. You have sensed his caring side a few times on this trip, but this is a whole new level. You had no idea that Seonghwa could be this soft, especially with you. 

The warm water washes over you, rinsing off the soap. You feel clean again and turn around to face him.

“Thank you.” You smile, and he leans in to kiss you softly on the lips. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and washes himself too. He’s quick to finish, and you both walk out of the shower. The same thing happens when you have to dry yourself - Seonghwa does basically the entire thing, using a big towel to dry your body. He helps you in your underwear and in your sleeping t-shirt (except you notice it smells extremely like him, only to realize he grabbed one of his shirts for you to sleep in). He puts it over your head and smiles satisfied when you’re done.

“There we go, good as new.” He says and puts on his boxers and sweatpants.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, not able to stop yourself. You were genuinely curious where all of this came from, so it wasn’t because you didn’t want him to. You had just never expected it.

“Doing what?” 

“This..” Your arms point between you, to the shower, and around you. He takes a step closer to you and pushes some of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. 

“Because we just had rough sex and I want to take care of you after,” He shrugs. You stare up at him, making him smile before he leans down to kiss you softly on the lips. It feels different than the other kisses like this one is full of something new. He pulls back, and you realize you miss his lips on yours already. “Also.. I think we both know that this was more than just a casual hookup.”

His voice is low like he’s scared that someone might hear, despite the two of you being the only ones home. But the words leave you with a million questions, but nowhere to start. Because before you realize what he said, he takes your hand and pulls you back into your bedroom. He’s in complete control of you, for some reason, your mind doesn’t work properly with him around you. 

“C’mere.” He says, opening his arms when you both get in bed. Doing as he says, you get into his embrace, and he closes his arms around you. You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to him, your back against his front. A kiss is placed on your temple as you just lie in the arms of the man you’ve fought with for most of your life, falling into a deep sleep.

***

You wake up to a bright room and stretch in your bed. As you look around, you realize that there is more space than you thought. Turning to your side, you find the bed empty and sit up, scanning the room for Seonghwa, but he is nowhere to be found.

Did he go back to his own room after you fell asleep?

A little confused, you get out of bed and walk to open the door and hear something downstairs. Someone is talking, and you immediately recognize your mom’s voice along with Seonghwa’s. You make your way to the kitchen downstairs, seeing your mom cleaning while Seonghwa is eating some cereal by the kitchen island. His back is turned to you, but you can tell he’s laughing at something your mom said.

“Good morning, honey!” Your mom says as she sees you enter the kitchen, and you make your way around it so you’re on the opposite side of Seonghwa. Trying not to make your mom feel any tension between you and Seonghwa, you casually sit down and grab a bowl and a spoon. You can’t help but look across the kitchen island to see Seonghwa smile at you, eyes lighting up. He bites his smile and tries to hide the tension too, not wanting your mom to know what happened between you two last night. “Slept well?” Your mom asks. 

“Uhm, yeah. Very well.” You clear your throat and look up at Seonghwa again. He’s smirking to himself, looking down at his bowl of cereal. He’s wearing one of his white T-shirts now, similar to the one you’re wearing at the moment. It’s not like your families can’t know that you and Seonghwa might start seeing each other. But there’s no reason for them to know what the two of you did while the rest were out to dinner last night.

“So, are you ready for your date later?” Your mom asks, making both you and Seonghwa freeze. His smile is gone, eyes looking up at you with curiosity and… worry?

Your eyes flicker for a moment, as you had completely forgotten about your date with the waiter tonight. But after what happened last night, you’re not sure about this date. Especially not when a certain someone is sitting across from you, messy morning hair and sweatpants, yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone.

“Uhm..” You look at Seonghwa a last time before looking at your mom. “I don’t think I’ll go on a date with him, Mom.” 

“Aww, how come?” She asks, curiosity evident in her voice.

“It won’t work out..” You say, not being able to tell her the entire truth. But the eyes you feel staring at you from across the kitchen island keep you from staying quiet. “Besides, I think I might like someone else.”

Seonghwa’s eyes look away from you, as he takes his empty bowl and starts cleaning it in the sink. You can’t see his face, but for a split second when he turned his face to the side, you saw him fighting back a smile.

“Really? Who?” Your mom's words wake you up from staring at Seonghwa, and you look back at her. 

“I’ll tell you later on, it’s still pretty new and I have to figure out if he even likes me too.” You shrug, not even knowing what to say about your situation with Seonghwa. You’ve known each other your entire lives, not once have there been a hint of something romantic between you two. Not until this trip. But you would lie if you said that the things he has done for you on this trip didn’t wake up something in you. Something you didn’t know was there but was waiting to be woken up. 

“Well, I hope it’s gonna work out for you, honey.” A smile tugs on your mother’s lips as he kisses the top of your head. She walks out of the kitchen, and just as her figure is out of sight, you feel a pair of lips kiss your cheek and arms wrap around you from behind. 

You hold back your giggle as Seonghwa showers you with kisses but stops to look into your eyes.

“Good morning.” He smiles, still having his arms around you. 

“Good morning.” You smile.

“So.. You’re really not gonna go on a date with him?” His voice is low, careful not to let everyone know what you’re talking about. You shake your head.

“Nah.. I figured I’d rather put my attention on someone else.” Your words turn on the light in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“Can I take you out when we get home, then?” He suggests, but you’re not done teasing him. Despite you and him possibly starting to date, you’ve still lived your entire life teasing each other. That’s not something you’re gonna stop doing, just because you’re dating.

“What makes you think I wanna date you?” You scoff and roll your eyes, looking down at your bowl of cereal. You feel his grip around you loosen as he reads your face. If only you knew what he was going to tease you back with when he leaned close to your ear.

“‘Seonghwa, fuck, oh Seonghwa.’” He imitates your words from last night, and you quickly push him away, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Stop! Don’t!” You say, not being able to hold back your own laugh from hearing his. He walked back closer to you, a teasing look on his face.

“Isn’t that how you sounded screaming my name last night?” He asked, eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

“Alright! Alright alright alright,” You shake your head, wanting to move on from how you sounded last night. “You’re unhinged, you know that?”

“I’m just proving a point.” He shrugs.

“The point being what?”

“That you shouldn’t date anyone but me.” He smiles satisfied, like it’s common knowledge. A while ago, you would’ve laughed in his face if he said that to you, but now, it only makes the butterflies go crazy in your entire body. But of course, he can’t know (yet) how weak in the knees he’s making you, so you only respond with a casual answer.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Oh, I have a better idea,” His arms find their way around you again as you look up at him from your stool. “How about we go on a date here, and we’ll go out to eat in the restaurant where that waiter is working and he can see that we’re-”

“Nooo, no, no, we’re not doing that.” You stop him.

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Because that’s gonna make everyone besides you uncomfortable, and you’re not gonna be dragging that poor man to the ground, again. He hasn’t done anything wrong, you know.” You defended, not wanting to stir any kind of drama. You just had to text the waiter that there wouldn’t be a date, but you’re thankful for the opportunity. But knowing Seonghwa, you’re not surprised by him coming up with this idea. You’re also earned with Seonghwa rolling his eyes at you.

“Boring, but fine. Is this how our relationship starts? With you telling me what not to do?” He asks, of course, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. 

“When you’re being a menace, yes. And I might tell you what not to do, but if we do what we did last night.. Isn’t that a pretty good deal?” You suggest, watching as Seonghwa smiles even more while he holds you closer.

“Baby, you can tell me what to do and what not to do for the rest of our lives, if we can do what we did last night.” He leans closer, his lips barely touching yours. "I'd happily be your servant for the rest of time if you promise to stay with me."

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile satisfied.

“Can’t wait.” He finally presses his lips against yours, making the fireworks in your body go crazy. Your mind goes blank again, falling into the deep hole of Seonghwa, wishing to stay there forever. 

Taglist:

@canigotosleep--plz @miyajack @uyumilk @hhoneylix @staytiny816 @skzscb @yeologist @likexaxdaydream @yunsara @hrtniki @dazzlingstarrs @mingiturnip @vannabanana1995 @xoxominghxe @stfu-rina   

(I only have a main taglist, lmk if you wanna be added <3)

[rafestify]

Beach Fight and Tides of Forgiveness — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Y/N and Rafe confront their painful past after a chaotic beach fight between Y/N and Ruthie but begin to reconnect, exploring the possibility of a hopeful future together.

Rafe Cameron x Ex!Reader (season 4 spoiler alert!)

Warning : Swearing (english is not my first language)

A/N : Probably the longest fic I've ever written so far, it's like around 2.3k ish, and i think this was a request from @dkjndfnmdfmdmnd , hope u like it 🩵

For us Pogues, the beach wasn’t just a place to visit—it was like our second home, a refuge where we felt truly ourselves. The salty breeze, the endless horizon, and the warmth of the sand beneath our feet brought a kind of peace that was hard to find anywhere else. The sound of waves crashing and seagulls chirping in the distance seemed to wash away our worries, making everything feel better, if only for a little while. There's nothing better than a day off with the people you love the most, in a place that feels like home—the beach.

“Don’t you just immediately feel like everything’s better at the beach?” Kie said, her gaze sweeping across the shoreline as she took in the sun, sand, and waves.

I nodded in silent agreement, sharing the same unspoken understanding that nothing compared to the serenity of the ocean. Together, we began setting up the chairs and cool box, the salty breeze tugging at our hair as the waves crashed in the distance. “Let’s get these boards off!” JJ exclaimed with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he headed toward the Twinkie to unload the surfboards, ready to dive into the thrill of the surf.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, catching sight of Topper and his friends’ trucks rolling toward us, their engines rumbling louder as they approached. “You’re joking,” Sarah sighed, exasperation clear in her voice as she rolled her eyes at the unwelcome sight. “Don’t stop,” JJ mumbled, focused on untying the ropes securing our surfboards to the top of the Twinkie, clearly determined not to let their arrival ruin our plans. “Anywhere but here,” Kie added with a frustrated tone, her eyes narrowing as she watched them close in, the tension in the air thickening with every second.

“Great, just the perfect time,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes as their trucks came to a halt and parked just a few meters away from us. The sudden noise and presence of Topper and his friends felt like a dark cloud looming over our sunny day, threatening to ruin the fun we had planned.

“Let’s go, baby!” The voice rang out, unmistakable and familiar, stirring a rush of memories within me. The one that used to comfort me in moments of doubt, the one that whispered soothing words to ease my fears. Rafe Cameron had a way of making everything feel right, his presence a warm embrace that felt like home. I turned to locate the source of the voice, and our eyes met—his striking blue gaze locking onto mine. The moment stretched, the world around us fading away as the connection lingered just a heartbeat too long. All of a sudden, Topper strode toward us with an air of confidence. “Sunshine's coming,” JJ remarked, earning an exasperated sigh from John B as he stepped closer to him. Though I couldn’t quite hear their conversation, they appeared surprisingly relaxed, exchanging easy banter that contrasted with the tension in the air.

We all surfed the waves together, and it felt utterly exhilarating. After months spent chasing the elusive City of Gold, finally engaging in something I was truly passionate about was a refreshing escape. The thrill of surfing, the salty spray of the ocean, and the laughter of friends combined to create a blissful sense of freedom that was simply amazing.

After surfing for what felt like hours, I made my way back to the shore, slipping into my denim shorts. “Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!” Kie exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “Y/N, look!” I rushed over to her, my heart racing as I squealed, “Oh my god!” In awe, I added, “They’re so tiny!” Sarah and I echoed each other, our voices filled with wonder at the sight of the adorable little turtles making their way to the ocean. I have always had a deep love for sea creatures, particularly turtles and dolphins. This passion is what drew Kie and me together, as we bonded over our shared fascination for the ocean's incredible inhabitants.

As we helped the tiny turtles by creating paths for them to reach the ocean, the sudden roar of a truck engine interrupted our focus. My gaze shifted to Topper’s girlfriend, Ruthie, at the wheel, with Topper himself lounging in the passenger seat. “Hey, stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, desperation lacing my voice. “Stop!” Kie added, jumping up and waving her arms frantically. “Guys, stop!” I shouted again, but the truck only sped up, closing the distance between us. In a split second, Sarah yanked me out of the way just as the truck barreled past, sending me tumbling into the sand with a startled grunt.

“Are you okay?” Sarah, Kie, and JJ asked in unison. I managed a quiet “I'm fine,” but a sinking feeling twisted in my stomach as I noticed the truck circling around again, this time picking up speed. Panic surged through me, and I jumped to my feet. “Stop! There’s a hatch!” I yelled, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of the engine as they barreled over the paths we had painstakingly created for the turtles. “No, no, no…no!” I gasped, horror washing over me as I watched the truck crush a few of the fragile creatures beneath its wheels. My heart raced as I rushed toward them, my pulse pounding in my ears. Kie knelt beside a turtle with a shattered shell, its life flickering away. “Fucking psycho,” she muttered, her eyes brimming with anger and sorrow. I felt a fire ignite within me, furious at their reckless disregard. Ignoring my friends’ calls, I stormed over to where they stood, determined to confront them.

“Look what you did!” I shouted, cradling the lifeless turtles in my hands. “Do you think this is okay?” Ruthie stole a quick glance at the broken shells before quickly averting her eyes. “No, look at it!” I protested, my voice rising with anger. “You drove right over a turtle hatch, you idiots!” Rafe stood beside Topper, who tried to diffuse the situation. “I understand you're upset, Y/N,” he said, his tone calm but unhelpful. I hadn't even noticed my friends were behind me, their expressions mirroring my shock and frustration. “I’m more than upset, Topper” I shot back, feeling the heat of my anger.

“Look, it was only one,” Ruthie interjected dismissively, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “I mean, there are so many more of them,” she pointed out, trying to minimize the damage. “You know what? You should just throw that to the seagulls,” she added with a mocking tone. “Cycle of life, right?”

My breath quickened as rage boiled within me, and I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed her hard, and just as she prepared to retaliate, Rafe stepped in between us, his presence a barrier against her aggression.

“Stop,” he said firmly, pushing Ruthie’s arm away before she could retaliate. He turned to me, his eyes softening slightly. “There’s something seriously wrong with you people,” I shot back, turning on my heel and striding away, handing Sarah the lifeless turtle.

“That’s right, go back to your side, bitch! You don’t belong with us anymore!” Ruthie shouted, her words laced with venom.

That was the final straw. Rage coursed through me, boiling over as I stormed toward her, every ounce of frustration and hurt fueling my movements. Without thinking, I swung my fist and connected hard with her jaw. The impact reverberated through me, and for a heartbeat, everything froze—the shocked look on Ruthie's face, the collective gasps of my friends.

She recovered quickly, her eyes blazing with anger. Without hesitation, she lunged at me, landing a swift punch that connected with my nose. The sharp pain shot through my face, and I felt warm blood begin to trickle down. I stumbled back, shocked by the sudden turn of events, my hands instinctively going to my face. John B tried to step in, attempting to intervene but Rafe was a lot quicker than him.

“Control your crazy bitch, Top!” Rafe said, his gaze locked onto me with a mix of concern and frustration. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Like you care,” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and stormed off, seeking refuge at my secret spot on the beach alone.

I perched on top of a massive rock, my knees drawn to my chest as I hugged them tightly, listening to the soothing sound of the waves crashing below. This spot was my sanctuary, the place I retreated to whenever I felt at my lowest. It never failed to calm me, wrapping me in a cocoon of peace. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me. I turned to find Rafe standing there, his silhouette framed by the fading light. He climbed onto the rock and settled beside me.

“I didn’t give you permission to sit here,” I protested weakly, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance.

“It’s a public place,” he replied, his voice steady as he leaned back against the rock.

I fell silent, my gaze drifting to the horizon as the sun dipped lower in the sky, lost in a swirl of memories and thoughts. “How did you know I’d be here?” I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He turned to me, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “We used to come here together, remember? You told me it was your favorite spot.” A sigh escaped me, heavy with longing. God, I missed those days—when everything felt simpler and the weight of the world was lighter.

“Here,” he said, breaking through my thoughts as he handed me a tissue for my bloody nose. I took it, our fingers brushing briefly. “Thanks,” I murmured, grateful for the gesture and the warmth of his presence.

“That was a pretty great punch, by the way,” Rafe said, a playful grin breaking through the tension. The corners of my mouth turned upward, and I let out a small chuckle, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. We fell into a silence that felt strangely comfortable— not awkward at all. Despite the distance that had grown between us since our breakup, I still felt an undeniable sense of safety around him, as if we were wrapped in a bubble of shared history.

“I missed you, Y/N,” he confessed suddenly, his voice steady yet vulnerable.

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to look at him, shock flickering across my face. This was the moment I hadn’t expected, the admission I had longed to hear but feared would never come.

“I missed you too, Rafe,” I sighed, the words flowing out of me, heavy with unspoken feelings and memories of our laughter, our late-night talks, and the way he could make me feel like the only person in the world. “I’m sorry for what I did to you,” he continued, his expression earnest, his gaze unwavering.

“I’m clean now, Y/N. Haven’t touched those shits for almost five months.”

“Really?” I asked, my disbelief melting into pride. I felt a swell of admiration for his strength and determination, and it made my heart ache a little.

He nodded, a flicker of vulnerability dancing in his eyes. “Yeah, I realized I couldn’t keep dragging you into my mess. I needed to change— for myself and for you.”

“I’m so proud of you, Rafe,” I said, my voice warm and genuine. I reached out, resting my hand on his for a brief moment, feeling the warmth radiate between us. A smile broke across his face, illuminating his features. “I did it all so I could be better for you,” he admitted, his sincerity wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. The air between us crackled with unspoken possibilities, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to rekindle the bond we once had.

“Can we at least try to work things out?” he asked, his gaze steady and hopeful. I paused, contemplating his words. He may have been a jerk to everyone else, but with me, he was sweet, protective, and loyal. The thought stirred something deep within me, a flicker of hope in the depths of my heart. “I’m not ready to be in a relationship again, Rafe—maybe just for now,” I finally replied, my voice softer than before. The truth of my feelings hung in the air, vulnerable and raw.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly, a reassuring smile breaking through his earlier concern. “We’ll take things slow. I’ll wait until you’re ready, alright?” The sincerity in his eyes made my heart flutter, a mix of apprehension and excitement dancing in my chest.

“Okay,” I smiled, a sense of warmth washing over me.

“Okay?” he repeated, his eyes lighting up with hope.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll take things slow,” I confirmed, feeling a rush of relief and anticipation. Rafe’s smile widened, and in that moment, it felt like we were stepping into a new chapter together, one where the past could fade into the background while we explored the potential of the future. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I leaned my head on his shoulder. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the air, creating a soothing rhythm that matched the beating of my heart. The warmth of his presence enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt hope stirring within me, a belief that perhaps we could find our way back to each other, not as we were before, but as something new and beautiful.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🎀

[earlysunshines]

sunshine girl

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you are not a morning person and danielle is an everything person—after working with her you start to like mornings a little more, or maybe just her.

warnings: grumpy x sunshine kinda?? ; reader is hyein's cousin ; soobin from txt and rest of nwjns mentioned ; pining and slowburn, like.. slooowburn ; sooo much fluff like soooooo much… ; loool anything else i didn't mention? ; barely proofread

a/n: fell in love w dani, caved, wrote... dreamy sigh... dani…

there is no universe or alternate reality with a twisted, psycho version of that you enjoys mornings. 

there is no way that you’d deliberately get out of bed just to hear the birds chirping and get up to open the curtains or whatever it is that morning people do to enjoy the grueling hours of 7 - 11am. 

do people actually do this? get up at 7am willingly without benefitting from it? the only reason you’re up is because you need that paycheck to keep you going. the image of the little envelope with your name on it and what you’ve earned renders you awake, at least awake enough to get yourself in the shower, dressed up, and ready to go for opening – you’ve never opened, and even worse, you’ve never met any of the staff that opened either. they can’t be worse than the closers, can they?

as you look in the mirror of your car, it’s palpable that the morning air hates you. your eyes are a little puffy, slight eyebags are visible, and your blinking is slower. you’ve got to get through this, it’s the only way to fit work into your schedule since your classes are all later in the day. 

when you arrive, there’s already someone in your unassigned but basically assigned parking spot – you frown as you back up into a different place. 

after you shift your car to park and check the time, realizing you only have five minutes left before you need to clock in for a six-hour shift, you close your eyes and let your body go limp against the seat. 

–

danielle’s head perks up when she hears the door opening. she halts her wiping of the coffee maker, then turns to see an unfamiliar face – a grin automatically finds its way to her lips.

“hi! you must be y/n?” it’s eight in the morning, you’re barely functioning, and you’re already hit with an overly enthusiastic, excited ray of sunshine; you can’t take the energy, not at this hour.

“yeah.” you respond bluntly, danielle isn’t really phased with the lack of energy that’s being thrown back. “you are?”

she answers with hands clasped together, “danielle! but my friends call me dani.” 

you’re not calling her dani, you aren’t her friend, and she’s just your coworker. 

you walk behind the counter and put your bag inside the cabinet, then grab your apron and put it on. when you turn to the side, you’re met with a shorter woman, her curious eyes, the beauty marks on her face, and a big smile. she puts her hand out and you shake it hesitantly. 

“it’s nice to meet you y/n! have you ever worked mornings?”

“no,” you mumble, unlinking your hands. “only closing shifts.”

“ahh, must be different? i’ll get you situated. i’m excited to work with you!” she says, then walks past you towards the door to the kitchen. she pauses before explaining, “the employees in the back take care of all the pastries other than the croissants and cookies, so we make them over here. i’m going to grab the premade dough and whatnot, you stay here– oh! and could you wipe down the machine? and then just run water for the espresso machine to get the pucks ready.”

you nod at her and she smiles again. you rub your eyes as she leaves your sight, fighting the urge to take a power nap on the counter.

–

the whole morning you’re in charge of drinks right until it hits two in the afternoon. luckily, you’re more fond of being stuck in your corner where the espresso machine is rather than taking orders and socializing with the customers – you wouldn’t be able to greet them as enthusiastically as danielle does with each and every one of them.

you don’t know how she does it.

there's another guy—soobin—who comes in an hour after you. he's a little older, quieter, but all smiles and talkative when it comes to danielle. even as you make drinks and keep to yourself, you can tell danielle's energy is contagious. hearing her and soobin chat freely as they restock pastries and bread makes you wonder if your mornings can be as bearable. if they can do it, maybe you can too.

soobin leaves an hour later than you and danielle, waving to both of you as you two walk out the bakery. 

you fish for your keys and start to walk towards your car, but then your head turns when you hear your name called out. turning around, you spot danielle waving to you, which urges you to stop in your place.

“hey y/n, i just wanted to say that it was nice working with you! i’m looking forward to more shifts with you, have a great rest of your day alright?”

paused in place, you struggle to form words, but you manage to respond a little bluntly, “thanks, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“bye the way!” she plays with her fingers, “you’re super pretty.” 

caught by surprise, you pause for a moment, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter as your ears start to warm.

“thank you.”

danielle grins again, and oddly enough, you really like how warm and smiley she is. she's like a beam of sunlight turned into a person. she waves once more before walking in the opposite direction, leaving you replaying the whole interaction in your head the rest of the way to your car.

a small smile finds its way to your lips as you sit in your seat, strangely enough.

–

minji is scribbling in her sketchbook when her roommate walks in, looking a little more giddy than usual.

“dani, hey.” minji greets her, smiling when she does. “how was work?”

“great!” danielle beams, right before plopping down next to her roommate on the couch. “there’s a new member – well, she’s not new, but she just switched to working mornings. today was her first shift with soobin and i, and she’s really good at making the drinks, better than when yeosang was on drink duty.”

“that’s great to hear dani.” minji responds, watching her roommate relax against the cushion. “new coworker seems nice.”

“yeah but,” danielle frowns a little, “she’s not that talkative. she has a tough shell, i really want to know her! she’s really pretty too, like gorgeous, stunning– wow.”

minji quirks a brow. “gorgeous?”

“yes! like, wow, i was taken aback. she looked tired too, but i’ve been tired and i’ve never looked that effortlessly wonderful. i mean, she was making drinks most of the time so she never faced me much. even then, the side of her face is nice and she’s just great to look at.” 

danielles roommate narrows her eyes at her. “right.”

–

the next morning you’re downing two shots of espresso like it’s vodka. danielle watches the whole thing with concern etched into her brow.

“are you okay y/n?” danielle questions, “espresso is strong, how do you do it?”

you nod at her and mumble, “it’s fine.” before you continue to clean the counter, not turning to face her. she frowns at you; danielle will get through that shell. 

soobin is in half an hour later, grinning at danielle as he puts his apron on and saying “hi” to you as well. you respond with a forced smile before plopping the last batch of cookies in the small oven on the counter. 

as soon as soobin is done taking the first few customers, leaving you to finish their drinks, danielle pulls him by the sleeve away from you.

“dani? what is it–”

“let’s go bag the pastries, come.”

“um, okay?” he walks over towards the shelves with her, putting on some gloves before asking, “why are you being so strange?”

“i want to get closer with y/n.” she says with a pout. 

“is that all?” soobin questions her–and this strange behavior. “i think she’s just timid.”

“you were timid too, but it took two hours into the shift for us to start talking about hedgehogs.”

“well, i like hedgehogs. you have to find out something you two like.”

danielle sighs defeatedly. “she barely responds to me unless it’s work-related!”

“you’ve got to give her time, people are different. she’s probably not a morning person? and maybe she sees this as just her job, maybe she doesn’t want to interact with others.”

danielle watches you from where her and soobin are after hearing you call out the name of the order. you hand it over to the elderly woman, who thanks you warmly and it earns a small, genuine smile from you. danielle finds your smile lovely, especially the small dimples on your cheeks that form. 

“you’re going to help me out, okay? we have to warm up to her.”

soobin sighs before bagging a cream bun. “okay.”

–

it’s painfully slow for a few minutes, so you walk out from behind the counter to fix up the pastries that the various customers have disordered. 

danielle follows and you jump when you turn to see her beaming at you. “hi!”

“danielle,” you tighten your jaw. “hi.”

“it’s slow on wednesday mornings, most people are already at work.”

“i figured.” you reply as you close the packaging for the rice doughnut.

“so, how are you this morning?”

“i’m fine, um, how are you?”

danielle smiles; the conversation is flowing in the tiniest bit, but still, it’s something. “just tired, i had a lot of work to do because one of my professors loves to assign things last minute, i stayed up quite late. are you in college too? i kind of guessed that we’re around the same age.”

“i just started my second year.” you answer.

she jumps a tiny bit to show the excitement over a commonality, you think it’s adorable.

“really? me too! what are you studying?”

“english and creative writing–” you cut yourself off when you catch a mother and her daughter in the corner of your eye, shutting down the conversation immediately when they start to walk towards the register. 

you throw a small smile at them and greet them warmly before tak ingtheir orders. danielle huffs, but she’s shining again once she’s realized that your shell has chipped just barely.

–

you don’t work fridays or the weekend, danielle has already been aware of that after checking the schedule. it would be weird in the eyes of, well, many people, but she checks everyones schedule just in case any mishaps occur, danielle is considerate beyond measure.

she’s attentive and notices many things – she’s like that with everyone, but you? you’re different.

sure, she’s attentive to the way soobin stumbles over the small bump under the door to the kitchen each time he has to grab something from the back, how he jumps each time the phone rings, and how often he bags the pastries backwards. with you, however, she notices a lot, she learns. 

two weeks after you two start working together, danielle has managed to learn three things about you.

one: you laugh whenever soobin slips up – or really any little mishap that happens with him (which occurs often) – but you always try to conceal your amusement. two: as soon as noon hits, you’re much more awake, which is when danielle sparks more conversation with you. and three: you both go to the same university, and you don’t know this, but she figured that out before you even told her after catching you in the dining hall from afar.

it’s not easy to miss something – or someone – that stands out so boldly, especially if it’s your charming visuals.

her job used to be something that she’d get done and enjoy while it lasted, but now that you’re thrown into the mix, a new challenge and person is clouding her mind throughout her days. she’s so tuned in to everything about you, for some strange reason. and one afternoon, the rare moment she loses focus – attention slipping away in the heat of a rush – danielle bumps into you, spilling a small cup of hot coffee all over your hand. 

you gasp loudly, clutching your hand and biting down on your teeth as tears start to form. “fuck–”

“y/n!” danielle almost yelps, earning the attention from the customers in the shop. “oh my gosh–” she places the cup on the counter before grabbing your wrist and running it under cold water. somehow, her holding your wrist seems to burn more. “i’m so so sorry, y/n are you okay? i’m so–”

you shake your head and push her hand away from your wrist, wiping away the small tear in the corner of your eye. “it’s fine, it was an accident. you should go help soobin out, there’s a long line.”

she can’t tell if you’re mad at her, it breaks her heart. the tone of your voice is always so hard to decipher, and as much as she wants to stay there and help you out – probably with another string of apologies – you have a point, she should do her job, but you’re burnt. danielle is much more worried about you rather than making money in the moment.

but still, your look and tone sends danielle back to the register, and before she tends to the customer, she looks back at you, pouting a little.

–

as soon as you reach the door to the drivers side of your car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

turning around, you’re met with danielle.

“did you need something?” you ask her, tilting your head.

“no, i just wanted to apologize for burning your hand, i’m so sorry.” 

you shake your head. “it’s alright, it was a mistake.” 

“yes, but still, can i make it up to you with coffee or pastries?”

“danielle,” you catch yourself and danielle by surprise when a small giggle slips out. you clear your throat before continuing, “we work at a bakery, i can always treat myself to both of those without charge.”

“well, i really want to make it up to you.”

“you’re really sweet, but it’s alright.” you catch your coworker off guard with the sudden compliment, there’s a small flush that spreads across her cheeks. “besides, my hand feels better.” you show her your hand, putting it out in front of her, it’s still red and swollen. “it’ll heal more. i’ll see you tomorrow, alright? get home safe danielle.”

danielle can’t really respond to you after that, you’re already waving to her once more before heading to your car. she watches you glance down at your hand, gently holding it as you do so. the guilt in her starts to grow even more.

–

hanni watches danielle storm into the house, rub her face with both hands, and plop onto the couch like she’s just gotten rejected by someone as if she were in some type of romance drama. 

“dani? what is up with you–”

“i’m a terrible person! my coworker probably hates me– i’ve been trying to warm up to her these past two weeks and then i go and burn her!”

hanni’s eyes widen, her brows raise, and her jaw drops. “you burned your coworker?”

with tired eyes and a bedhead, minji appears from the hall in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. she groans as she runs a hand through her hair, squinting her eyes. “what’s with all the noise? i’m trying to nap…”

“dani burned her coworker.”

minji’s a little more awake now, tilting her head. “the really pretty one?”

“yes!” danielle groans into the cushion, the bottom of her palms covering her eyes as she lies there defeatedly. when she takes her hands off her face, she opens her eyes to see minji and hanni hovering over as they stand, awaiting an explanation. “i’m a terrible person.”

hanni moves danielles legs over so that she can sit on the couch, putting her legs on her lap as the younger woman loses it. minji sits on the opposite end, putting her legs over on hanni’s lap as well and resting her head against a pillow.

“okay well why are you a terrible person?”

“i spilled hot coffee all over my coworker’s hand! gosh, i tried to apologize and everything, i even offered to compensate for the damage and she declined! y/n has to hate me…”

hanni looks over at minji to pout, then looks back at danielle. “hey, it was a mistake. what did she say?”

“well, she was really normal about it as if i didn’t just burn her hand, she brushed it off like it was nothing. i offered to have coffee with her or share some pastries but then she giggled and was all like ‘you’re really sweet but it’s okay’ and i don’t know, what if burning her hand makes her talk to me less and she hates me forever and–”

“dani.” minji butts in, making the younger one quiet down. “you made her laugh and she said you’re really sweet.”

“and?”

“and?” minji groans, sitting up on her elbows now. “dani, she said you’re really sweet. why wouldn’t she want to talk to you?”

“because i burned her? or maybe i’m annoying and talk too much but i really can’t help it-”

hanni puts a finger to danielles lips, dramatically shushing her. minji laughs at the action before hanni butts in, “dani, first of all; you’re not annoying. second; you’re literally the greatest person ever and i love you and if you ever stopped talking so much i’d have to i don’t know, die?”

minji snorts. “the hell?”

“what i’m saying is no one could ever hate you and honestly if she does; she’s not worth your time. plus, you shouldn’t waste your energy on someone who doesn’t appreciate you. you’re wonderful bro.” danielle’s eyes soften as she looks at hanni, and minji’s bottom lip protrudes from how sweet her words are. hanni sits danielle upright and puts both hands on her shoulders. “how about this: minji and i go visit you at work tomorrow and we’ll be the judge of your coworker.”

“you’d do that for me?”

hanni nods. “yes, but also please hook us up with some free pastries and drinks because i have to do a wrap around on this whole lecture so let's see it as an exchange, but also i love you dani and don’t want you losing your mind over this woman.”

“and i’ll be the judge of whether or not your coworker is as gorgeous as you think.” minji adds teasingly.

danielle smiles from ear to ear, making a small little noise as she pounces on hanni and hugs her like she’s her savior. minji laughs at the sight, smiling as well. 

–

you park near your cousin’s highschool, you always pick her up after opening shifts since the time aligns perfectly. you send a text to your cousin to let her know you’re there and your burnt hand sits on the wheel, so you take a few moments to examine it as you wait for a response.. 

minutes pass before your cousin arrives, knocking on the window and grinning at you, breaking you out of your small daydream.

“hi y/n, sorry i came so late, my teacher was being an ass.”

“language hyein.” you scoff, knowing damn well you curse like it’s your second language. hyein gets into the passengers seat and steals your phone, putting on a song as you start to drive again. “anyway, how was school?”

“oh god, it was so draining today. i swear my physics teacher wants me dead.”

“this is why you don’t take physics as a sophomore.”

“well someone won’t help me.” hyein rolls her eyes playfully, making you giggle. “anyway, school was just school. how was work?”

“it was alright, i kinda– well, my coworker spilled coffee on me. burned my hand a little but it’s not too bad.”

“the tall one? soobin? or was it the pretty one, your little work crush?” she raises her brows knowingly, smirking. 

hyein is one of very few people who you let loose around. despite your age gap, she’s your cousin, and your favorite one too. ever since you moved to live with her and her parents for school, you’ve gotten closer, spending hours rambling and practically getting glued to by the hip. she knew everything about you and what you felt.

she knew how you felt about your morning shifts; you coming home with a smile on your face after work was different. you dreaded work and the people you worked with for closing, all some stupid braindead men that you had to order around half the time. danielle and soobin were far from that. the duo eased your worries and actually did their job relatively well, you were able to do what you loved – stay stuck in the corner making all of the drinks – without worrying about the bakery. it was a breeze, you loved teh switch to mornings other than waking up at a time that has you quiet, moody, and only functioning after at least two shots of espresso.

hyein also knew about the interest you had in your new coworker danielle. you’ve never rambled about someone this much, calling her sweet, lovely, nice – not to mention the whole tangent regarding her eyes and pretty smile. hyein watched you chastise yourself for being so distant and avoidant because of your moods in the morning, comforting you for not being able to form decent bonds and friendships because of how early you had to get up.

you grip the wheel a little tighter. “danielle, it was an accident though.”

hyein eyes you. “so the pretty one.”

“her name is danielle.”

“point proven! you don’t just recognize your coworkers by how attractive they are you know…” hyein teases, “sometimes you talk about her and i wonder if my older cousin can finally be a normal person that’s capable of having a crush on someone.”

you keep your eyes on the road, but use your right hand to push her head playfully and ruffle her hair, earning a whine. 

“just because i think someone is pretty does not mean i like them. you’re so young, you don’t know shit about crushes and romance.”

“stop cursing.” hyein warns. the light turns red and you step on the break, then turn to look at her with raised brows. hyein laughs and cocks her head, giving you stupid puppy eyes. “i know when someone likes someone, or at least when they start to. you think she’s pretty but in a way that sounds like you’re an admirer.”

“what?”

“you tell me you can’t talk to her and look at her sometimes? y/n im sixteen, but im also not new to having crushes, ive been there. you like her.”

“do you want to walk home?”

hyein pouts, crossing her arms and making you laugh in the process. “youre no fun.”

“whatever.” you mumble.

when the two of you get home, hyein steals your keys to open the door to the house. she gets in first, obviously eager to do whatever it is that she’s up to after school — probably calling her friends or laying in bed.

you walk over to the kitchen and run your burnt hand under cold water, clenching your teeth slightly when you feel the stinging. 

in the drawer near you, there’s the first aid kit, over the counter tablets, and other health related items. you rummage through to find the burn relief cream, leaning against the countertop as you twist the cap open. you squeeze out a line of the cream that extends down to the base of your pointer finger, then you begin to rub your reddened skin. 

your thoughts drift to the moment of when you burned yourself—well, when danielle burned you. she had this look in her eyes, so pure and so regretful that it made you feel bad. 

she was so sweet with the offer, she’s ways so lovely. she’s honestly adorable. the way the words rushed out of her, the small pout on her lips and the fact that she offered to make it up to you. every nerve in your body wanted to accept the offer, but danielle shouldn’t have to pay or spend time on something to make things up to someone like you. it was a mistake after all. 

then your thoughts drift elsewhere, from the whole burnt-hand incident and then to the person who burned you–to danielle. she’s bubbly in the mornings and although you used to hate that, her smile and greetings started to wake you up a little more. the crinkle of her brow every time she catches you downing shots of espresso always makes you suppress a laugh, the expression is so adorable and she’s just so—

“stupid hyein,” you sigh to yourself.

youve been absentmindedly rubbing the burn-relief cream in the same spot for almost a minute, all because of your coworker taking over your thoughts. you begin to rub the rest of your hand and add another dot of cream to the lower area of your hand.

hyein’s called you out multiple times for having an alleged crush on your coworker, but you’ve always dismissed it. however, the words she’s said to you before ring in your head in the moment. you crease your brows and purse your lips subconsciously.

“maybe you can’t talk to her because you’re attracted to her and not because it’s 8 in the morning.” hyein shrugs, looking at you as you sit lazily on the couch. she’s lecturing you after another ramble about your day, the mere mention of danielle prompting her to quote on quote ‘educate you’ on what love is. “you talked to your friends perfectly during morning classes from what you’ve told me, maybe you’re just all shy and blushy and—“

you smack the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop yourself from thinking of that memory of you and your cousin.

“i don’t have a crush on danielle… what is she thinking?” you mumble to yourself. you halt your actions after the realization that you’ve just talked to yourself hits. you press a hand to your cheeks, feeling a weird warmth from your skin, making you shake your head and groan. “i can talk to her fine… just fine.”

 —

“morning!” danielle beams as she catches you walking in. you manage to shoot a small smile, danielle likes that you’ve been giving her more of those.

you put your bag in the cabinet, then put on your apron. without turning to face her, you start to speak, “danielle?”

she almost jumps, not expecting you to even interact with her. maybe you needed help with something? or a question regarding the new breakfast pastries.

“y/n, did you need something?”

you shake your head. “no, i just, um— how are you this morning?”

danielle pauses, you turn to meet her eyes and blink as you wait for an answer. your coworker short circuits momentarily before stumbling over her words as she responds, “oh, i’m— i’m great! tired of course, you know with school and all. thank you for asking y/n.”

“did you get enough sleep?” danielle looks at you after you ask that, wondering where all of this friendliness is coming from. she’s not against it though, maybe you’re just awake this morning.

“i tried to get as much as i could.” she says, then smiles. “is your hand okay?”

“it’s fine. i put ointment on it and it’s like nothing happened.” you assure.

without any warning, you disappear into the back, probably looking for dough to bake. danielle is still stuck in her place, blinking a few times before she runs the espresso machine. she wonders for a moment, furrowing her brow at the rare interaction that you started. but then, she’s grinning to herself just thinking about it all.

danielle wonders: maybe you don’t hate her, maybe her roommates were right. 

—

you hear a bundle of voices, three to be exact.  when you look up from the steam wand, you’re met with three women that all look your age—they all probably go to your university, or maybe the other one that’s also close by.

one of them walks up to the register, soobin greets them, but their attention seems to be on you for a bit.

“hi, is danielle here?” one asks. 

soobin nods, still looking at the screen of the register. “yeah, she’s in the back. did you need her?”

“we’re really close with her, could you grab her?”

soobin nods again, humming in response before he walks over to the door leading to the back. 

you continue to make the cappuccino that an older lady ordered a few minutes ago, creating a small lavender looking design with the steamed milk and pushing it out on the counter. 

“for park!” you call out, the lady comes up to the counter in seconds and smiles at you. she pats your shoulder and it makes your heart warm knowing she’s happy with it.

the three girls from before, they continue to eye you from the register until danielle is back, and when she returns, she starts squealing at the sight of them.

“you guys really came!” danielle beams, immediately reaching over to hug them as best as she can with the counter in the way. “what pastries did you all want? oh! i can also grab you drinks.”

the one with bangs nods, then orders for all of them. “mmm i’ll have an iced vanilla latte, minji wants a hot tea and haerin just wants a cookie and iced tea. you know she’s out early today? oh my god, as soon as we heard we scooped her up immediately-“

the rest of their conversation doesn’t process in your head as you start with the drinks. you had just put the puck in the machine, twisted it in place and started to pull the espresso before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

danielle meets your eyes and you feel yourself soften up a bit. 

she tugs on the cloth covering your shoulder just a bit before she speaks. “hey.”

“hi?” 

“can i introduce you to my roommates and our friend? you wouldn’t mind? would you?”

“oh, no— but i’m kind of… making one of their drinks right now.”

“oh, sorry— wait what?  i was going to make them—“

“well since they’re you’re friends i think they’d appreciate their drinks out earlier. and it’s okay, don’t be sorry danielle. i’ll do whatever if it’s not busy and when i’m done.” you swear you see a little more pink on her cheeks than usual, stronger than the blush she wears—you could be wrong.

“right, yeah, do your job!”

you stifle a giggle and purse your lips to conceal your smile, ultimately failing. danielle’s tone and mood are contagious sometimes.

(all the time.)

when you’re finished with the drinks — danielle had lingered nearby here and there as you made them — you placed them on the little counter for danielle to pick up. she had smiled at you, mouthed a “thank you,” and rushed over to sit down with her friends. 

it wasn’t busy at all, the only other customers in the bakery had been a corporate man that soobin was tending to. the man bought a loaf of milk bread and ordered a brewed coffee, soobin could handle all of that. he will handle all of that.

danielle sits with her friends at the table, giggling as she does so and looking as happy as ever. there’s a weird flutter in your stomach, like someone poking you there from the inside and it’s not that it hurts, it’s just odd. 

pretending to busy yourself is something you’re really good at doing, and plus, it’s a great way to excuse your glances toward danielle as she talks to her friends. she’s really smiley and giddy, it’s the cutest thing ever.

a few minutes pass and you’re still bagging some items, daydreaming as you do so. 

(danielle seemed to pop up here and there, strangely enough.

here and there turned into her being the star of the dreams.)

you’re in your own world until a faint “hey y/n!” is muttered into your ear, making you jump and almost elbow your pretty coworker.

“did i startle you? i’m so sorry—“ danielle starts, but you’re quick to cut her off as soon as she begins to apologize. 

“no, no. sorry i was in my own world.”

“i get that.” she chuckles, “hey, most of the things are bagged–i was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? soobin is cashiering and he should be fine since it’s not too busy so…?”

you take a quick glance and look over at her friends who are looking at the two of you eagerly. the one with bangs has this smirk on her face, making you hesitate.

“please? i don’t know why but–” danielle lies, she knows why. “um, they want to meet you.”

“me?” 

“yes!”

you pause and honestly think of declining until danielle shoots her bottom lip out a bit. in no time you’re biting the inside of your cheek before responding with a nod, and you’re so grateful because she’s grabbing your hand—two fingers of yours—and leading you over to the small table near the windows.

danielle is gripping your pointer and middle finger lightly, but it feels like she has a hold on you as a whole. your body is all warm and fuzzy and your mind is hazy and her skin is really soft and nice and—

“this is y/n!” she introduces, letting go of your fingers. “y/n, these are my roommates hanni minji, and this is haerin.”

“nice to meet you all.” you greet softly with a small smile. they all stare and you feel yourself shrinking under all the pairs of eyes. you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue before clearing your throat. “are the drinks alright?”

minji scans your face, eyes tracing each and every feature before her gaze softens. she nods at you and responds, “they’re great, wonderful.”

you nod at her and grin again, looking down at the table to avoid any eye contact. 

hanni chuckles. “yeah this latte is actually amazing, danielle’s made me lattes before but they’ve never been this good.”

“y/n is really good at making the drinks, practically keeping the bakery in business. i bet our boss is happy with you in the mornings.” danielle completely ignores hanni’s teasing and adds to the praise, making you wave your hand and shake your head.

“ah, no, no. i mean i can only make drinks but danielle is really good at every aspect of her job, she’s wonderful with customers.”

“oh stop–”

“no, you are.” you look up to make eye contact with her, then look over to soobin, who’s brewing another batch of coffee. “soobin is great, but he’s really clumsy sometimes and it’s kind of funny catching him stumbling over words. you’re a natural.”

“you’re so sweet.” danielle mutters in awe before  lips turn up even more, her cheeks flush slightly and her friends all look at each other with smirks on their faces. 

“i um, i try–”

you hear the door opening and two pairs of very familiar voices make you turn immediately. turning around, you see your cousin and her best friend in a group with three others you just barely recognize. danielle spots this as well, she starts to stand before you pause her in the act.

“danielle, i got it.”

“it’s a big group y/n.” she continues to stand up, but when you place your hand on her arm lightly it’s like you’ve frozen her in place. minji and hanni immediately give each other knowing looks, and haerin observes the whole ordeal intensely. 

“it’s my cousin and her friends, you should stay and hangout with your friends. besides, you haven’t had a break today, relax.” your hand slides down to her forearm without any thought. despite the small action, danielle is flustered by it.

“you sure?”

“positive,” you affirm, then look at all her friends. “it was nice meeting you all.”

the group watches you walk over behind the counter, and as soon as you’re at a distance where they can talk without you hearing anything, danielle’s friends – minji and hanni for the most part – go ham on her.

“oh yeah she’s gorgeous.” minji chimes in, shrugging it off like you’re not the prettiest person danielle has seen. “you were right.”

just gorgeous? 

“yeah she’s really pretty dani. and also, she doesn’t hate you, there’s no way.” hanni says as she munches on a croissant, earning a punch to the arm from minji. hanni whines, croissant still in her mouth, “hey! what was that for?”

“finish chewing before you talk! you’re so gross…” 

“you didn’t have to hit me!” hanni groans, nudging minji with her shoulder.

haerin rolls her eyes at the two before taking a sip from her iced tea, watching danielle glance at you. haerin has known danielle for a while, the last time she had been like this was forever ago, this admiration can’t be something that’s purely platonic, not with those dilated pupils and puppy eyes. 

and you, you’re no different either. haerin watches you glance over to make eye contact with danielle, eyes softening and your teeth showing as you smile at her the moment you meet each others features. 

while minji and hanni continue to bicker, haerin continues observing. danielle is making it look like she’s invested in the bickering – which, she very much is; it’s always entertaining when the two argue over stupid things – but her mind is somewhere else.  

“danielle,”

“haerin?” danielle turns her head and hums in response.

haerin blinks. “you like her.”

minji and hanni stop bickering, their presence enhancing the shiver down her spine.

“no, no. i just think she’s really interesting, i couldn’t possibly–”

haerin shakes her head, putting a hand up. “you look at her like she’s… like there’s a halo around her head.”

“i–” danielle turns to glance at you again. you’re laughing with one of the girls, she assumes it’s your cousin that you mentioned. you flick the younger girl’s forehead and she groans, which earns the most pure, natural laugh and smile she’s ever seen on your face. you’re cute, especially when all of your teeth are showing as you laugh. when you make eye contact with your coworker again through waterlined eyes, your lips purse into a closed smile.

danielle is blushing, her cheeks burn, and the vulnerability is displayed right in front of her friends. she tries to laugh it off, but hanni’s jaw drops and she throws a hand over her mouth.

“oh my god.”

minji starts to chuckle. “she has a point, danielle. whether you know it or not, it makes sense.”

“i barely know anything about her, you can’t be serious.” danielle rolls her eyes and pouts. “even if i did, it’d be impossible to even do anything remotely romantic. she’s like stone.

“she was literally everything but stone from what i saw earlier.” haerin comments. “danielle, it’s okay to have a crush on someone, you know?”

hanni hums in agreement. “yup, and you really need to stop that flirting you do with us every ten seconds because it’s grueling and if you’re going to flirt, flirt with someone you actually want because everytime you say anything remotely flirtatious ten years of my life get taken away.”

minji snorts and danielle can’t help but do so as well. “wooow, my flirting is very wonderful thank you.” she crosses her arms and looks over at you again. “and what if y/n doesn’t like my flirting?”

“nah,” hanni sips on her drink. “you called her a good barista or whatever and i saw her like, malfunction for two seconds. she was blushing a little.”

“well she wears blush so–”

“dani, can you–” hanni facepalms. “just, shhh. she doesn’t hate you and you know what, you can build off of that.”

haerin shrugs before taking a few more sips of her tea. “yeah, she’s pretty and smiles at you sweetly. it’s not impossible.”

danielle takes one more look at you, you’re still chatting with your cousin and her friend seems to be joined in the conversation as well. the rest of the group of teenagers have left, so the place is pretty empty. you smile here and there as you clean the counter and wipe the machine, occasionally looking at the two girls who converse with each other.

“okay dani, i love you but i also need to get this lecture noted and also oh my god i have a report due tomorrow and–”

 hanni feels a finger to her lips, similar to how she shushed danielle the night before, but now it’s reversed. minji snorts and haerin laughs before danielle assures, “go, go. i’ll see you later and bring extra snacks hanni.” 

the group begins to clear the table, dismissing danielles efforts to leave it be so she can take care of it. they all bring their silverware and dishes to the little trays near the trash before walking over to the exit, each girl hugging danielle before they all leave the bakery.

when danielle turns around, she spots you still conversing with the girls, but tending to the daily housekeeping simultaneously. you look up and catch her in your eye again, displaying a small, toothy smirk at her.

danielle chuckles to herself, making you do the same even as she moves over to package pastries.

–

today is your offday, so you’d usually wake up two hours later than you usually do for work. but when your phone rings around the same time you’d arrive at work, you groggily reach over to squint your eyes at the screen, reading the contact name that is calling you at this time in the morning:

incoming call: danielle

“does she know im not working? shouldn’t she be off today too…” you mumble to yourself before picking up and putting your phone on speaker. “hello?”

“y/n, hi, did i wake you up? you sound tired, ah, i’m sorry.”

feeling bad, you lie to her. “no, i’ve been awake for a bit now. is everything alright?”

“i just wanted to ask, um, how far do you live from work?”

“less than ten minutes, why do you ask?”

“i’m sorry if this is a big favor but i’m supposed to cover for soobin today since he’s sick. i walked to work since i live a fifteen minute walk away, not too far, but i forgot the keys and it’s storming really badly…”

you’re a little more awake now after hearing the light rumble of thunder coming from outside, it urges you to rub your eyes. “danielle, are you safe from the storm right now?”

“i mean, i’m standing under the little roof thing near the entrance. water can’t get me from here.”

“jesus,” you mutter to yourself, then jump at the next sharp thundering sound that comes after. “i’ll be there soon, okay? i’ll pick you up and you can just give me the directions to your place. be careful, i’m on my way.”

“thank you so much, im sorry again–”

“no, no. it’s fine, i’ll be there, see you.”

before she can respond, you hang up on her, running to the bathroom to splash water on your face and fix your disheveled bedhead up. then, you run towards the entrance of your house and grab your keys that hang on the hook near the door, slide your slides on, and quickly run out.

it’s storming hard, and you’ve already gotten a clue on how bad since you had been pretty drenched from simply walking to your car. 

you speed through the neighborhood and into the main road to get to the bakery faster. desperately looking through the windshield for your coworker, you spot her near the entrance just as she said, then drive up as close as you can.

rolling down your window, a bit of water gets on your face, hair, and the top of your shirt – but it doesn’t stop you from yelling, “get in!”

in a few seconds, danielle is in the passenger seat, her hair visibly damp but not too wet. she runs a hand through it, and it feels like your heart just skipped a beat. her hair is wavy now, more than usual, quite curly. was it always like this? her hair looks beautiful, framing her face perfectly, strands sticking to her skin from the raindrops—like elements of a painting coming together to create something breathtaking.

“sorry, i would’ve asked my roommates but they had some important stuff for their classes and whatnot so they left earlier this morning. i also didn’t want to wake minji up, i know her lectures are pretty bad.”

how thoughtful of her. 

shaking your head, you respond, “it’s fine, i just don’t want you getting sick. i’m glad you called.”

“really?”

“u-uh, i mean, yeah. i’m still not the best at opening and you’re pretty much the best at everything so… soobin and i need you in the mornings. i know im off today but whoever is working this morning probably needs you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet of you.” danielle’s smile grows and grows as she notices everything about you in the moment: your hair is messy, you have some old, loose t-shirt on with some poorly scribbled figure of… you? then, a small giggle leaves her lips once she notices the dog prints on your pajama pants. 

your blush grows deeper with each passing second. “i um, didn’t have time to change. do you want to type your address in my phone or…?”

“you look so cute y/n.” it slips out of danielles lips, but she’s able to play it off well with the little tilt of her head and a sly smirk. it works wonders on you. “i like your shirt and pants.”

you cough to ease your nerves, then shift the stick of your decade-old, hand-me-down five seat toyota to ‘drive.’

“my cousin made it for me when i was still in highschool a while ago. sorry, that’s not important.” you facepalm yourself mentally. danielle thinks this little story is very important, but you cut yourself off.  “do you just want to tell me the directions?”

adorable, danielle almost says out loud. 

“yeah, turn left at the stop.” 

danielle spends the rest of the time staring out the car and gazing out to see the rain that pours down from above. you’re stiff in your seat the whole time, especially when she does that little thing where she glances at you with those pretty eyes occasionally. it’s a simple look and yet you’re flustered beyond words.

you reach an apartment complex and drive as close as you can to the entrance. she gets out and mutters a haste “i’ll be quick” before leaving you alone with a racing heart and flushed face.

when she returns, there’s an umbrella in her hands and the keys to the bakery. once she gets in, you start to drive back.

“danielle?” 

“mhm?”

“is your hair naturally like that?” you ask. 

“ah,” she moves a hand to her hair to run her fingers through, though not without a little struggle. “i straighten it usually, it’s easier to maintain. the rain must’ve made it a little curly again huh?”

“i think your hair is beautiful like that, really.” you admit, eyes stuck on the road. “you look good with any hairstyle.”

“why thank you! i could say that for you as well.”

you scoff playfully, shaking your head as you turn into the bakery parking lot. “right, like my half-awake head is even the tiniest bit alluring.”

she winks at you, leaning in just a bit closer. “i think it enhances the natural allure, no?”

words get stuck in your throat, danielle laughs, and then she waves at you as she gets out the car. the rain has stopped just in time for her to clock in and a little beam of light hits her in the best way possible. you can’t help but stare at her in awe. 

“thank you for keeping me from getting drenched, you’re the sweetest.”

“yeah, i mean, you’re kind of the pillar. our boss isn’t ever here, you’re practically the boss no?”

“you’re too charming, i’ll see you in a few days?”

your mouth opens but nothing comes out for a moment, not until a bright idea pops up in your head.

“i can take you home after work, don’t want you walking in these conditions.”

“y/n,” she starts, looking confused. “it stopped raining.”

“it’s whatever, you know what– i can drive you to work in the mornings.”

“oh, you really don’t have to. isn’t the gas money quite–”

“no, no. i’ll give you a call or text next week, it’s nothing. see you danielle.”

–

little did you know, this would turn into a routine–the small gesture of picking up danielle instead of letting her walk in the mornings.

sure, she got a little less cardio, but she managed to crack that shell open just enough to glimpse what was inside. and everything hidden by your reserved demeanor was everything that made her heart flutter and more. each feature and curve of your face, beautifully highlighted by the soft glow of the café lamps captivated her beyond measure. but what she loved most was your personality—every word, every gesture. it captivated her in ways she hadn’t expected, and she found herself falling deeper with each passing moment.

you were caring, sweet, and had lots to share. there was never a dull moment with you the moment she figured out how to get you to talk a little more.

as for you, mornings weren't dreadful anymore. you started waking up earlier than usual just to make it to danielle's on time. you liked this new routine—seeing danielle first thing in the morning, sharing a coffee with her, chatting while the pastries baked. the smell of fresh coffee and baking bread filled the air, making the workspace warm and inviting. just being in her presence was the perfect start to your day. her laughter and smiles made everything brighter, transforming mundane, tiring mornings into something special.

and what kind of cousin would you be if you hadn’t told hyein everything like the two of you usually do. hyein is on the other side of the couch starting at you smile as you ramble about this routine you’ve fallen into with heart eyes and a wide grin.

“i mean, i haven’t ever liked mornings since her.” you begin, your fingers starting to fiddle with one another. “and oh my god she keeps flirting with me! it’s actually terrible. do you know how hard it is to stay normal when she’s calling me what, a fucking angel first thing in the morning? and it doesn’t help that she’s literally gorgeous, i mean you’ve seen her; she’s straight out of a dream.”

hyein groans as she sits up. “well if you’re so in love, quit complaining to me, you’ve been like this since the month started.”

you sit up as well, furrowing your brows. “what?”

“just ask her out already! it’s clear she’s into you.”

“i think she’s just flirty though.”

“old and stupid oh, you piss me off.” hyein throws a pillow at you, making you yell ‘hey!’ before throwing it back at her face. she laughs before clinging the pillow close. “but really, at least a ‘friend’ date or something… it would bring you two closer. those morning rides aren’t going to lead to anything more than what you already have, probably. plus, soobin and actually working gets in the way of your little lovey-dovey stuff.”

you look at her, biting your lip as you ponder.

hyein is right, hell, she always is. for a child, she’s pretty good with giving advice and an even better listener. she’s your best friend and favorite relative all in one, it would be somewhat betraying to not take the advice.

“well, what if she’s taken?”

“oh my god…” your cousin throws her head onto the cushion of the couch. “she calls you pretty and flirts with you – girl, of course she’s single.”

“okay but… i don’t know.”

“well i know that you’re stupid as hell.”

“language!”

“just check her instagram or something? people with significant others always post something.”

you fall silent, biting your lip again before looking at her with an apologetic feeling in your eye. “i don’t have anything but her number…”

“oh y/n, that’s not a problem at all.” hyein rolls her eyes and scoots up next to you, leaning against your shoulder as you peer over to watch what she’s doing. she holds the phone up to your face to unlock it and taps on the intagram icon, immediately clicking  on the search bar. “do you know her last name?”

“um, it starts with an m i think?”

“you don’t know her last name?”

“why would i know this?”

“do you have an app for your schedules or anything? oh my god, you’re seriously getting on my nerves… i can’t believe you managed to even have a girlfriend for that one year–”

you cringe at the mention of your history with women. “okay don’t mention that please… and fuck her, she was terrible to me.” you frown.

“sorry,” hyein know’s she’s hit a little spot, knowing your past with much detail, then continues. “anyway, let’s just search her up and…” she types in ‘d-a-n-i-e-l-l-e’ into the search and a few accounts pop up. she looks at the small profile pictures displayed and the first one makes her click her tongue. “found it!”

her page is pretty just from the first glance–you two haven’t even looked at any of the posts or highlights either. danielle’s profile picture is jus ther with a beanie over her head and looking at the camera with her pretty eyes and god you almost melt right then and there because no model could top her visuals. 

you reach over to scroll through her posts; she has thirteen in total, and a few catch your eye. one post, in particular, stands out: a single photo of her posing in front of a mirror, wearing a crop top that shows off her slim figure and a denim jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder. she looks absolutely stunning. as you stare at the image, lips slightly parted in awe, hyein looks over and sees your intense gaze. before you can react, you're interrupted by a playful pinch to your cheek.

“you’re so down bad.”

“i’m not!” you scoff, taking the phone out from her hands and scrolling yourself. 

there are photos of her with friends, snapshots of mesmerizing views (though none as captivating as her), pictures with her family, beach scenes, dogs, and several selfies—you find yourself lingering on those a bit longer. her entire page perfectly matches her energy; it's cute and vibrant. as you scroll, hyein catches you smiling to yourself, lost in the charm of danielle’s online presence.

one of her more recent posts, posted about three months ago, catches your eye. it’s her and haerin posing together with haerin’s face being cupped by danielle’s hand as they pose. the caption has your heart sinking a bit (a lot).

“beautiful, gorgeous, and lovely birthday girl💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 i love you lots sweetie”

hyein catches the whole thing live, watching your small smile turn into pursed lips. “that doesn’t mean anything y/n, friends can be like that.”

“they’re pretty close…” you swipe to see a picture of danielle’s nose nuzzled into haerin’s cheek and frown. “she’s taken.”

your heart sinks even more just looking at the picture longer, urging hyein to snatch your phone out of your hands and click on the mentioned tags. she finds haerin’s account – it’s public, thankfully – and roams around as you sit there defeatedly.

it’s not looking the best so far, not when hyein clicks on a post with danielle and her group of friends, and after hyein swipes to the next photo she’s met with danielle and haerin hugging each other, cheeks pressed together as they pose for the photo. you catch a glimpse before your head falls over on hyein’s shoulder like you’ve just come back from an unsuccessful war.

“it’s over.”

“y/n, lift your head up! i pose with my friends like this too… maybe she’s touchy.”

“not with me.” you pout. hyein flicks your forehead. “hey!”

“stupid,” she says. “maybe it’s because she likes you and is wary of boundaries. from what i’m seeing, you should initiate.”

“i can’t possibly do that.”

“you’re literally a liar.” she spits out. “as soon as your friends initiate something you’re clinging like a koala, even with me you’re like that.”

you fall over onto the couch, giving up and looking up at the ceiling; your life isn’t over because your really adorable, amazing, lively, vibrant, cute, helpful, captivating, adorable coworker is taken. 

(it’s over.)

hyein allows you to sulk for a moment before widening her eyes and gasping, “wait, i literally know haerin.”

“you do?”

“kind of. i just checked her account on my phone and a lot of people i know follow her, she’s that pretty upperclassman everyone likes. there’s no way she’s dating danielle, like, i have proof.”

sitting up immediately, you crunch your brows. “are you serious?”

“yeah. my friend is friends with her, she’s very much single and i don’t think she wants to mingle.”

“holy shit, you’re serious?”

“language~” hyein teases. “yes, i’m not trying to feed your delusions by the way–i don’t support homewrecking.”

you practically pouce at hyein and tackle her into a loving, grateful hug. she squeaks at the contact, but warms up into the hug. 

“i love you forever, i’ll buy you lunch and treat you to pastries and anything and–”

“it’s fiiinneee.” hyein pulls away and chuckles at you. “i just want to help you out and be happy. and after seeing danielle… she’s really adorable and you’re so giddy for her so she must be wonderful.”

“she is.”

“yeah, all you do is run your mouth about her.”

a laugh is shared between the two of you before hyein reaches for the remote to turn on the tv. you go back to your phone, clicking on danielle’s profile to stalk her again, lingering on posts of herself. you feel your cheeks burning and somehow the little glare your cousin gives you despite her not being in your vision or peripheral.

–

you’ve been reluctant on asking danielle out, even if it’s a simple ‘hangout’ or ‘friend date.’ she’s effortlessly charming as always with each interaction, even getting bold and watching you from over your shoulder at times – everything she does makes your heart beat and beat and beat.

danielle’s been equally flustered and enamored by how open you’ve been with her. the two of you have cracked jokes and shared small stories during the quiet moments with soobin, but danielle especially enjoys you just by yourself. there’s something much more tender about you when it’s just the two of you. you’re physically more touchy wth danielle, and she can’t really tell if it’s on purpose or you’re just touchy like that. you often shove her playfully in conversations, and when you both lean against the counter, you somehow manage to move over ever so slightly so that your arms are touching. 

your coworker has been attentive to all of this, unsure of whether this is just how you are and she’s overthinking things, or this being something more–maybe a sign that maybe you’re into her just a bit.

none of you question it really, and besides, danielles just as touchy. she sometimes leans her head on your shoulder – but very, very briefly – when something is amusing, and sometimes her hands find their way to your hair to fix it, or maybe even to your forearm just because. 

soobin is a bystander, the poor guy thinks it’s just how girls are and is completely oblivious that the two of you are fighting the thick tension in the air.

–

the last coffee beans were grinded, so you tap on soobin’s shoulder and tell him that you’re going to the back to grab more. he nods at you and sends you that pursed grin, you place a hand on his shoulder and thank him.

when you reach the small closet, you find danielle in the room as well, rummaging for packaging and more boxes for the pastries and desserts. she’s oblivious to your presence until you knock flicker the light on and off once, making her squeal and jump from surprise. your coworker turns around and hits the rack unknowingly, when she sees you, she starts to calm down.

“y/n! you scared me!”

you laugh. “sorry, i just needed some–”

above danielle, you spot a bag of coffee beans—at least three pounds heavy—starting to tip. before it can fall, you move without hesitation. you rush over, reaching out and getting on your tiptoes to catch it with one hand just in time.

a sigh of relief leaves your lips, but you catch your breath again as soon as you look back down.

danielle is close. her face is a few inches apart from you and your hand is still up to hold the coffee beans, making the moment much more intimate and nerve-racking than it actually is. she looks at you intensely, her lips parting before her eyes dart down to your lips. 

“y/n,” she almost whispers.

you gulp and look down at her lips, then away, putting your arm down and grabbing the coffee beans with you as you do so. your faces are closer now and you feel your heartbeat rapidly pounding against your chest, threatening to break through. danielle still stares at the features presented to her, pupils dilating.

you break the tension, looking away and stepping back, holding the coffee beans to your chest almost like you’re hugging them. your eyes dart around the room nervously, your cheeks burn like they’re steak being put onto a hot iron skillet, and you gulp one last time.

“the um, t-the beans… they almost fell on you.”

“yeah?” 

“i’m um, i need to uh– yeah, there’s no more grinds and i need to make a latte…”

“right.” danielle starts to smirk, looking at the aftermath on your face. “you do that then. oh, and by the way.”

“hm?”

she steps forward to push hair out your face and behind your ear, her fingers graze against the back of it. “your ears are red–and warm.”

“oh, um, maybe.” you mumble softly. danielle giggles at you before you leave the room, 

–

the two of you don’t speak on the incident the rest of the shift since danielle can tell you’re flustered and she’s also really good at keeping a conversation going. plus, work is in the way at times, so doing your job saves you.

after you two clock out for the day, both of you walk to your car and danielle watches you closely before looking out the window again. you feel a shiver down your spine as you get out the parking spot and the grip on the wheel is tighter the whole way to her apartment complex.

you park in front of the entrance, danielle unbuckles her seatbelt and says, “thanks for the ride.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“yup.” 

your coworker narrows her eyes at you, looking at you questionably as if she were expecting something different. she puts her hand on yours, smiles, then gets out the car. 

she starts to walk towards the entrance, and as she walks through the door you huff.

“i can’t be like this, fuck me. another lecture from hyein would kill me.” you groan.

you grab your keys, unbuckle your seatbelt, and get out the car as soon as possible. you sprint towards the entrance and look around for danielle, catching a glimpse of her walking towards the stairs, so you follow after her.

she’s already up a flight somehow right when you reach the bottom of the stairwell, you catch her hair just barely and shout up at her,

“danielle!” she looks down to see you breathing a little heavier than normal. “wait!”

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i– wait there.” you call out before running up the stairs. danielle doesn’t listen and starts to walk down as well, which leads to you running into her when you clash halfway, accidentally bumping her. “s-sorry.” 

“you’re out of breath.”

inhaling quickly, you nod. “a bit.”

danielle laughs. “why did you run after me?”

“i was um, i was wondering…” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, struggling to make eye contact with her. “are you um, well, fuck, sorry– okay, um.”

“take your time.” she teases.

you giggle before looking into her eyes and composing yourself. “do you want to hangout outside of work sometime? i really… like working with you and talking and yeah all of it, but work kind of limits a lot.”

she looks at you with a growing blush fostering her cheeks. one good look at you–messy hair tucked behind your ears, the baby tee hugging you, your flushed face from running, the adorable look you give her as you wait for an answer – danielle nods and her teeth show as she smiles at you.

“i would love that.”

“really?” you ask, eyes widening. you shake your head and laugh to yourself before asking, “when is good for you?”

“i’m not doing anything right now, are you?”

“i need to pick my cousin up soon but that’s it.”

“okay! you should go pick up your cousin and we can head downtown?”

“oh, now? today?” you say in disbelief; danielle hasn’t given you a chance to plan or mentally prepare for this. you’re already winded, but this is like a tornado picking you up and throwing you over to another continent. “i mean, yes, that’s perfect, yeah.”

“pick me up later then, that alright?”

“i’ll text you when hyein– er, when i drop my cousin off.”

“perfect, i’ll see you then?”

“yes, mhm.”

–

you’ve never driven so fast, nor have you gotten ready so quickly. your cousin gripped the door handle tightly as you sped fifteen miles over the limit in a neighborhood, glancing at your concentrated, flushed face.

usually, hyein is the one rushing home after school since it makes her homesick. but today, the unexpected sight of you bursting into the house, darting to your room, and emerging five minutes later with a denim jacket, jeans, and makeup on left her wide-eyed.

hyein’s laying on the couch when she catches you fixing your hair in the mirror, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath.

“what’s up with you.”

“danielle.”

“elaborate?”

“i dropped her home and asked her to hangout and then i was like ‘oh okay when?’ and she’s basically saying that now, today, like later. i have to pick her up like right now– wait, do i look good? too much? too little? is it–”

“you look fine y/n, very pretty. i think danielle will appreciate it.”

“you sure?”

hyein sighs and stands up, you’re a little taller then her, so she has to tilt her head up just barely to fix your hair and pat down your jacket. 

“stop stressing, it’s just a hangout, no? you didn’t say it was a date did you?”

shit. 

“i mean no, but–”

“okay so stop stressing and go pick her up!” hyein rolls her eyes at you. “you’ll do great kid.”

“who are you calling kid?” 

“blah blah blah, go get out the house.”

you look at her defeatedly, brows curled up and a pout played on your lips. hyein simply laughs at you before you grab your keys, tote bag, and head out the door.

-

you reach her apartment complex and spot her outside, waiting while engrossed in her phone. danielle jumps when a car honks at her, but then she sees you in the driver’s seat. a smile spreads across her face, and she runs over to you, her excitement palpable.

danielle gets in the passengers seat. “hello again.”

“hi.”

“downtown? are we going to metro or are you going to park there.”

“it’s a surprise,” you smirk mischieviously before starting to drive. danielle giggles and trusts your little ‘surprise.’

the car ride is filled with laughter as you two sing along to your favorite songs. despite having slightly different music tastes, there are many songs that you both enjoy and can belt out together until you find a good spot to park in the city.

danielle waits for you as you pay for parking, looking out at the social city and lovely views. but one view is lovelier than the city, lovelier than everything really. her lips turn up when she looks at you pressing the button and grabbing the ticket that’s dispensed out. 

you fix your hair. “okay, before we go to the surprise did you want to check out the stores?”

“i don’t go downtown too often, so i don’t know what’s good.”

“me neither,” you shrug, then look around. “the city is big, we can surely find something we both like. i hope you like exploring.”

“if it’s with you, then why wouldn’t i like exploring?”

you're caught off guard by the compliment, opting for a chuckle to hide how it makes your heart run a marathon and your tummy twist and turn.

three hours pass but you swear it’s only been thirty minutes. 

the two of you walked everywhere, exploring small cafes, charming clothing stores, and vintage record shops. danielle made sure to take as many pictures of you as possible, insisting on "capturing the moment" and telling you that you're "adorable." her reasons made you giggle nervously, each compliment warming your heart.

you hold onto danielle’s bag of clothes and trinkets she had bought – you practically had to fight her to simply hold the bag – as you lead her down an alleyway. she’s following you mindlessly, not questioning your sudden change in plans since it must be part of your oh-so-lovely surprise.

“i’ve had a lovely time with you, we should spend time together outside of work much more often.” she says softly, turning to look at you and smile. she’s glowing. 

it's five in the evening, and the sun is beginning to set, golden rays seeping through the little cracks in the alleyway. each beam enhances her already striking features. her eyes shine when they catch the light, turning her brown eyes into a mesmerizing gold. the wind tousles her curly hair, making her even more beautiful with each stray strand. the way her teeth peek out when her smile widens makes your knees weak—you could stare at her for hours.

she snaps you out your trance. “y/n, can i ask you something?”

“yeah, what is it?”

“did you not like me when we first met?” 

you two continue to walk, but you’ve fallen silent. looking down at the ground, you shake your head and turn to look at her again.

“no, no that’s not it.” you shake your hands in defense. “i’m just… not a morning person, and very cautious.”

she giggles, “what?”

“when i did closing, all my coworkers were terrible. it was a nightmare despite being awake at the time, you know? and it’s different waking up so early for me, i’m not a morning person in any way.”

“i’m aware.” danielle interjects, making you roll your eyes and shove her with your shoulder playfully. 

you look around the area, clicking your tongue as everything starts to become recognizable. grabbing her hand, you find a little exit and lead her to a small area overlooking a part of the city near the river. it’s beautiful, and danielle is mesmerized by the view.

from where you both stand, you watch her mouth fall open, her hand almost covering it. she sighs in awe, taking in the scene—the buildings with some windows lit and others dark, the flowers in full bloom, and the trees with vibrant leaves.

“y/n, was this the surprise?”

you start to walk ahead, then turn around and motion with your head for her to follow. she watches you sit down on a rock that luckily has space for two people. she sits down next to you, watching as you prop yourself up with both hands behind your back.

you both sit in comfortable silence, the golden hues of the sunset reflecting off the river and casting a warm glow over everything. danielle’s eyes dart from the view to you, her smile never fading. you catch her gaze and smile back, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. the moment feels perfect–it is perfect.

“this is the surprise, and also kind of my apology for being an ass to you the first few weeks of working.”

danielle admires the side of your face as you watch the view, the sun hitting you beautifully, tracing each feature she adores the most.

“i’m not a morning person, and i guess i was stubborn and always pissy. i didn’t want to talk a lot because i was scared of you and soobin – mostly you – being terrible like the closing staff.” you meet her eyes with your own. “but you’re far from that.”

she does that thing where her eyes soften and her lips form something between a pout and a smile, much like the time she talked about a puppy she ran into on the street. but now, the emotion of adoration and awe is much more intense. her gaze seems to hold a deeper meaning, reflecting the beauty of the moment and the bond you share. 

“y/n, you’re so…” she covers her face with a hand, concealing her blush. “you’re wonderful.”

“i just wanted to share a view i really like with you, since i appreciate you a lot, you know? and we’ve been getting close so… i just… yeah.”

avoiding her look, you turn to watch the view again. yeah, you’d much rather be staring at her while she admires the view, but you can’t possibly do that when the sun is exposing your crimson cheeks.

“can i take a picture of you?” she asks, pulling out her phone. “you’re just so gorgeous right now, i really want to have something to look back on later.”

look back on you? you?

“yeah, sure.” you respond bashfully.

she holds her phone up, then looks at you, grins, and says, “cheese!”

you chuckle and shoot her a lovely, toothy, beaming smile. “cheese!”

–

the two of you alternate between talking and admiring the view for another two hours until the sun starts to set. by then, danielle has ended up close to you, your arms touching purposefully.

as you walk back to your car, a gust of wind brushes past and danielle shivers. she's only wearing a cropped t-shirt and sweatpants, which isn’t ideal for the cooler night. without a second thought, you slip off your jacket and drape it over her shoulders, grinning.

“thank you, y/n,” she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes. “you’re not cold?” 

you shake your head, the warmth from the evening and the moment enough to keep you comfortable. “nope, i’m good,” you reply, enjoying the way she pulls your jacket closer around herself. it looks even better on her.

“i have a longsleeve on, and i don’t want you getting sick dani.”

her eyes widen and she gasps. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“you called me dani!”

you ‘tsk’ at her and shake your head, but smile to yourself. “yeah and?”

“you never ever call me that.”

“well i’m very fond of you now so… dani it is.”

both of you continue on to the car, enjoying each others presence while lingering close.

–

you reach her apartment complex and somehow those five – almost six – hours seemed like they weren’t enough. the last thing you wanted was the night to end, but here you are, parked in front of the entrance.

danielle hesitates in her seat, not wanting the night to end either. “hey, just to clarify…”

“yes?”

“did you… was this a date?” 

you melt. “at first i just wanted to hangout with you, but as soon as you got into my car when i picked you up i really wanted it to be. what did you think it was?”

she relaxes into the seat and lets out a sigh of relief. “oh thank god. you were so adorable and cute the whole time and the thought of this just being coworkers– no, friends, hanging out was dreadful.”

“well then, it was definitely a date.”

she hums before silence follows. you two sit there smiling like idiots at each other, the air filled with excitement and adoration.

“i’ll see you at work tomorrow?” danielle says it like it’s a question, but it’s guaranteed unless something deadly catches you by surprise. even then, you’d still make an effort to see danielle.

“yeah. i’ll pick you up too.”

“great,” danielle mumbles. without any warning, she quickly reaches over, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pressing her lips to your cheek. her eyes close, and you freeze in place as she hides herself by pressing her nose into your skin. “i really, really enjoyed everything. i like you so, so much.”

her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and the feeling is heightened when she kisses your cheek again, lingering before she pulls away.

she winks at you before waving. “have a good night, y/n. sleep well.”

your mouth is agape, and you can’t even move. you sit there, watching her walk back to her apartment complex. she looks back once more to wave and smile again. you’re flushed, your heart racing faster than any f1 car. you realize you’re the happiest you’ve been in ages.

–

danielle squeals as she enters the apartment, making minji and hanni – who are playing some card game – jump and yelp themselves.

“what the hell man?” hanni yells.

“oh my god it was a date.”

“well obviously.” minji responds, watching danielle flop onto the couch. “she ran for you just to ask to hangout, i don’t even do that for you guys.”

“maybe because you secretly hate us.”

“hanni shut up you’re no better.”

danielle kicks her feet, smiling like a little kid and sighing dreamily. minji and hanni give each other a glance, then shrug at each other. 

“she took me to this wonderful view and oh my god it was beautiful but not as beautiful as her like oh my god and talking to her is so fun and natural and she’s so sweet and–”

minji cuts her off, noticing the jacket she has on. “is the denim hers?”

“yes.” danielle says smittenly, she’s lovestruck. “and i kissed her cheek just now.”

“oh wooow maybe your flirting can get you places.” 

danielle grabs a pillow and throws it at hanni, making the trio all laugh together. 

–

work is normal the next day—well, for the most part. it's just much more annoying since the two of you can’t be hopelessly in love in front of soobin and all the customers. after all, it’s a professional setting.

you can’t help but steal glances at her whenever you get the chance, especially when she’s taking orders. she’s so sweet and friendly with everyone, and it only makes you fall for her even more. if hyein were here, she’d probably roll her eyes and pretend to gag at how hopelessly in love you are.

danielle catches you staring after she’s finished putting a customers croissant in their bag, smirking at you knowingly. 

“hey, do your job!”

“oh shut up…”

she laughs before grabbing your wrist, dragging you to the door to the back. she looks over to soobin, who’s cleaning the counters, and shouts, “we’ll be back! i need y/n to help reach something for me.”

he shoots a thumbs up before starting to wipe again. danielle leads you back to the storage room giggling, then closes the door to leave you two alone.

“hey, we’re still on the clock.” you warn.

“i know, i know.” danielle starts to wrap her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. “i wanted to do something i didn’t get to last night.”

you clench your jaw. “right.”

“mhm.” she says, staring at your lips. 

you couldn’t resist any longer. with a surge of giddy excitement, you close the distance between you and danielle, eagerly cupping her face in your hands. as your lips meet hers, they are just as soft and inviting as you had imagined, yet the reality surpasses any expectation. 

she pulls away first to mumble against your lips, “you’re lovely.”

“you’re even better.”

danielle closes the distance, you both smile against each other and savor the short amount of time you both have in the storage closet. kissing her is everything, she’s just perfect.

time seems to stand still as you both melt into the kiss, a tender warmth spreading through every inch of your being. it’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth, the taste of her lips, and the intoxicating feeling of being so close to someone you adore.

when she starts to cup your cheeks, you conclude that maybe mornings aren’t so bad–definitely not if danielle is in the mix.