#I’m sure she is a perfectly nice woman

[winn-wynn]

Percy Weasley fans finding out who Percy married too: WHO THE FUCK IS AUDREY?

[yieldtotemptation]

CRASH ft. Wonyoung

wonyoung x male reader smut

11k words

When she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch.

If you were to ask her, she’d probably say the same about you.

And yet, that doesn’t stop her from calling you in the middle of the night, slurring about some shit with her manager, telling (not asking) you to come pick her up.

You’re inclined to recommend that she fuck off and find her own way home.

But of course, you don’t. (You never do).

-

“Sorry boys, my ride’s here!”

There’s a collective groan of disappointment that ripples through the crowd that’s formed up behind Wonyoung; each face falling one after another as they realise that ultimately none of them get to be the lucky suitor that takes her home.

Moths around a flame, unable to do anything but watch as she sashays through the neon haze towards your car. Hips sway with a drunken grace, a dangerously short skirt dances around her thighs, high heels strapped to her feet make her legs seem endless.

It’s a view, that’s for sure.

It probably makes the pain of rejection a little more bearable, makes them forget that they’re being abandoned on the sidewalk with all the rest of the has-beens and ‘who the fuck were you again?’

Her ‘co-workers’, technically. Some you recognise, most you don’t. But they’re all basically the same insecure douchebag in a different shade of overpriced streetwear.

You’d probably be doing the world a public service if you were to steer your car onto the pavement and run them all down.

It’s an idea you entertain a little. Doing it would really ruin her night.

That’d almost make it worth the dent it would put in your brand-new car.

Still, you can’t completely blame the gaggle of potential casualties, not really.

It’s Wonyoung.

Girls like her are the reason they invented the word ’idol’ in the first place, because calling her ’pretty’ or ’hot’ is like calling the Mona Lisa ‘a nice portrait’.

It doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Like the starlet she is, Wonyoung waits until she’s at your car to make her grand exit. A turn to her adorers and a final goodbye: a casual flick of her wrist, a sweet, flirty smile and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink that’ll have them deep in their group chats ranting about how they definitely had a moment with the Jang Wonyoung.

You just roll your eyes. You’ve seen that wink a hundred times.

You know exactly how much it’s worth.

After all, it’s your car that she’s climbing into, slamming the door behind her like it’s her name on the registration; leaving behind her new fan club with nothing but their dicks in their hands and their heads swimming with fantasies of what totally could have happened.

You’re no better though, are you? The second she slides into the passenger seat, you’re judging the shortness of her skirt, eyes greedily tracing the length of her thighs, all the way up to a hint of lace that’s destined to be ruined later.

You’re not subtle. And in that outfit, she’s not either.

“What took you so long? I swear to God I’m going to punch the next guy that asks me ‘how much of a baddie I really am’.”

No thank yous, no pleasantries, not even a look in your direction.

To think that you used to be impressed by how quickly she could drop the act: gone is the sugary sweetness that she’d fooled those simps with back at the club; the pretty, airheaded, ‘lucky Vicky’. As fake and useless as the glasses resting on the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose.

Next to you is the real Wonyoung, the one that you’ve become intimately familiar with: intimidatingly smart, unfathomably hot, and all too aware of how dangerous a woman those two traits made her.

“Why is this car black? I thought I told you to get the red?”

You glare at her. The gall on this woman.

“What are you waiting for? Drive.”

Barely a minute in and she’s setting a personal best record for time taken to piss you off; impatiently kicking off her heels, tossing them over her shoulder and into the back seat (of again: your car, not hers).

You can be just as childish: you slam your foot down, pedal to the floor, wheels screeching, and you peel off into the night. The acceleration forces Wonyoung back into her seat, scrambling for her seat belt, yelling, “What the fuck?”

Now she’s looking at you. You’re casual, offering, “Oh, sorry, did I scare the passenger princess?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, and you’re welcome,” you grumble, slowing to a more reasonable (legal) speed as you turn onto the highway. “Remind me, when was it that I started operating a taxi service for wasted idols?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She rolls her eyes, puts her hands together, bows her head down low. Rich, coming from someone who’s never had to genuinely apologise for anything in her life. “Didn’t realise washed-up trainees had such precious schedules.”

It’s a low blow, her go-to insult for you. Nothing you’re not used to; it’s been years of this, after all.

Years of Wonyoung, the living reminder of your biggest failure, making your life her personal pet project. Years of her smugness, of her flaunting her success in your face, of her demanding more from you, demanding better.

Years of you pushing back, pushing her, and somehow always ending up in the same place, the same bed, the same tangled mess of sweat and spite.

To think it all started when you saw her across that shitty practice room and one of you (you forget who, though it was probably her) said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it was pure hate at first sight.

“Couldn’t get literally anyone else? Don’t you have friends?” You throw the question out there, keeping your eyes on the road, and not down at her legs, crossing and uncrossing, teasing and taunting.  It’s a herculean task—she’s practically ninety percent leg anyway; so fucking easy to admire, so right wrapped around your waist.

“Trust me, I tried. None of the girls have their license, I definitely can’t call someone from the company, and the last time I tried to get a taxi the fucker recognised me and threatened to leak my address. So that leaves me with you,” Wonyoung sighs. “The last resort.”

“Wow, what an honour,” is your reply. You’re still not looking—not sneaking glances at her stomach, as she stretches in your passenger seat.

As an exercise, you pretend she doesn’t exist. Pretend that the hem of her shirt isn’t rising up, peeling back to grace you with a glimpse of her midriff, that waist, her abs tight and exerted after a night spent out on a dance floor.

It nearly works—for a second, you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed at her.

Right until Wonyoung laughs. Not that fake, high-pitched giggle that she knows you find so grating. No, this has an edge to it, a bite that she reserves just for you. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t waiting for me to call. Or were you in the middle of jerking it to my fancams again?”

There’s the memory, the one loss in territory you haven’t quite recovered from. (A reminder: be less blasé about what you choose to name your saved playlists.)

You fire back with, “Yujin’s actually, but nice try.”

“Whatever, pervert.” Your attempt at a riposte doesn’t work, it’s dismissed, leaving Wonyoung satisfied that she’s won this exchange.

As for her prize, she does what she always does—gets touchy with your property.

She busies herself, fiddling with the touchscreen on your dashboard—’What the fuck is this playlist?’ and 'Why do you listen to this group? You know all those girls are absolute bitches, right?’.

“Stop that.” You reach over to slap her wrist before she starts getting too ambitious and messes with the temperature controls again.

"Hey!” Wonyoung yelps, recoiling, and then pauses. You turn to her, see her annoyingly flawless features scrunch up in disgust as she asks, “What’s that smell?”

You curse under your breath as you realise what’s coming. Wonyoung’s frustratingly sensitive when it comes to scents; she’s got a nose like a bloodhound—and a penchant for sticking it in the parts of your life she doesn’t belong.

She’s gone as far as 'gifting’ you every perfume you’ve owned, every body wash, every shampoo, even your fucking laundry detergent.

Just another way she’s tried to take over your life.

You give your own car a whiff, if only to see if this is just another case of Wonyoung being a brat.

It doesn’t smell bad at all.

In fact, it smells sweet. Too sweet.

“Ew, seriously, what is that? Is that you?”

You’re too slow—she’s got your forearm now. For someone that looks so delicate she’s got a grip like a vice. She brings your wrist up to her nose, sniffing, making her way higher up your arm.

“Let it go, Wonyoung.”

She’s not listening at all, unbuckling her seat belt, leaning over the console, pulling herself closer to you, pushing her body against yours. Whatever little respect Wonyoung had for your personal space is gone; her nose is on your neck, her breath hot against your skin.

“It smells like…” She pauses, getting even closer, taking a deep inhale as she tries to place the fragrance. “Why do you smell like a whore?”

Her voice is low, coloured with a barely noticeable slur. You can feel it: the powder keg about to explode, Wonyoung getting ready to go from zero to a hundred. So, you deflect, “Sure you’re not smelling yourself?”

“Fuck you, I don’t use that cheap shit,” she snaps. “You fucked someone tonight, didn’t you?”

You don’t reply. It’s not like you owe her one, anyway—she’s not your girlfriend, you’re not her boyfriend, you two are…

Rivals, mortal enemies, fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits (except without the whole friendship part).

(Take your pick, call it whatever you want, or in Wonyoung’s case: don’t call it anything at all.)

“Who—who was it this time?” Wonyoung’s fingers tighten around your arm, and there’s that spark in her eyes.

Every chance she gets, she’ll insist she gives so few fucks about your personal life, but one mention of another woman and she’s diving right in the mud, for once not hiding the fact that she may actually give a shit about you.

It’s probably why you do it.

“Who’s the slut dumb enough to spread her legs for you?”

Now it’s your turn to avoid her gaze, to pretend that having her this close isn’t doing wild things to your heartrate. You make an unforced error: “None of your business.”

“So you did fuck someone.” Her hand moves down your arm, dragging her fake acrylics across your skin until they find purchase in your thigh, digging in hard enough to make you flinch. “You fucked someone I know didn’t you. Who…” She’s reading you, trying to find the answer somewhere in the stress lines of your face. “Hyewon. Yena. Yuri. I swear if it was fucking Eunbi, I’m going to—”

“Going to what?” You challenge. You know this game. You’ve played it before—every damn time she gets like this (and you know where it leads). “Going to lie to me about your own personal survival show back there?”

Wonyoung scoffs. It’s a throaty sound that seems almost foreign coming from her—too impolite, too uncouth for the elegant, refined image she’s painstakingly cultivated. But she makes it anyway, because she’s had a few too many drinks and you’re the only one who’s around to see her like this—raw, unfiltered. “Those losers? I’m not like you, bringing home every pair of tits that strokes your ego.”

“Good to know that I’m special then,” you smirk, but she’s not smiling back.

No, she’s just looking at you, in that annoying, Wonyoung way. It’s those big, doe eyes of hers that you’ve seen do so much damage before—make men bend over backwards, light themselves on fire just to get her to look their way. “You wish.”

You push on, push her just a little bit. “Drop the act, Wony. I wasn’t your last resort—I’m the only one you even considered. You needed your daddy—isn’t that what you were calling me before?”

“I never said that.”

“Wony—”

“And if I did, I’ll never say it again,” she declares, before emphasising. “Never. Again.”

But you know her better than that. You know her lies just as well as she knows yours; it’s in the quickness of her response, the defensiveness—the vulnerability.

“I doubt that,” you say, making the most of the tiny crack in Wonyoung’s armour. “I remember you screaming it. Had you cumming like a fountain—ruined a perfectly good set of sheets, you know?”

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses, but she’s got the same memories in her head—that same night, so similar to this one (so similar to every night before).

The fighting, the fucking, the endless cycle of pushing each other’s button until one of you snaps.

“And what about you? You got here awfully quick for two in the morning,” she says. Her hand’s still on your thigh, less nails, more fingertips now, tracing patterns through the denim of your jeans. “Couldn’t bear the thought of me with someone else, could you? Lie to me—tell me that you weren’t waiting to get your hands on me again.”

Your denial dies before it even makes it past your lips—your own body turns traitor on you, provoked by her hand rising higher. There’s a smile as Wonyoung finds what she was looking for, the proof in the stretching of your jeans, the outline of your cock begging for more of her attention.

“At least this part of you is honest,” she muses, fingers dancing around your growing stiffness.

You grit your teeth, doing your best to keep the car steady, managing to grind out, “Please. It’s like you said, any decent pair of tits does it for me. Even your tiny ones get the job done.”

Her hand freezes on your thigh—you’ve hit a nerve, hit that dark part of her that’s so desperate for validation. “You think you can replace me? Find someone else to fill your sad, lonely nights?”

She’s closer now, her breath against your neck, her fingers drumming a beat right over where the head of your cock is. It’s a heady feeling, one that you hate and crave all at once.

“Was she even good?”

You know what she’s really asking: Was she better than me?

And you know the answer: How could anyone be?

But you don’t say that. You don’t need to. Instead, you reply, “It’s not a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition.”

Wonyoung’s hand relaxes, nails retreating from your thigh, leaving you flustered and fighting against the constraints of your own jeans. She settles back into her seat, having done her damage.

And for a moment, silence reigns inside your car, allowing you to actually focus on the road. Not that it really matters, you know the route to her apartment by heart—you could drive it blindfolded if need be. It’s just a welcome distraction to avoid dealing with the state she’s left you in.

The quiet survives a beat, two, and then Wonyoung’s squirming, shifting in the passenger seat.

And then she does it again.

And again.

You should keep your eyes ahead—you need to keep your eyes ahead.

You know exactly what you’re going to find if you look over at her.

That’s the problem with you and Wonyoung. You know each other too well. Your likes, your dislikes. What gets you off. What makes you mad.

What drives you fucking wild.

And yet, because you’re a sucker for punishment, you still risk a glance, and see Wonyoung, leaning back in her seat, her hand sliding up her own thigh, so casually drifting up her soft, bare skin, higher and higher.

The skirt rises, inch by torturous inch, and it’s those panties—the same set that was around her ankles the last time you had her bent over your couch, swearing she’d hate you forever. The same set that’s probably already soaked, just waiting for you to rip them off again.

You have to tell her to stop, to keep her hands to herself, to not do this to you, not now. Not while you’re trying to keep you both on the fucking road. But your mouth is dry, and all you can manage is a choked, “Wonyoung—”

Her fingers have slid past the hem of her skirt, now playing with the lace that’s the only barrier between her and open air. She’s biting into the plumpness of her bottom lip, staring at you, expecting your full attention, even now. There’s no subtlety with her, there never is, it’s one of the few things Wonyoung’s bad at.

You swallow hard, finding your voice. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable,” she says, a little breathy now, as her fingers slip under the lace. “You got a problem with it?”

There’s the flash of skin, a gasp as her fingers find purchase between her folds. She’s so wet that you can hear it—the slickness of her arousal, the quiet sound of fabric sliding against her skin.

You’re straining, gripping the steering wheel so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in two. Her hand’s dipping lower, her finger sliding inside herself; not deep, not yet, just teasing. Enough to make you want to pull over, to grab her and throw her on the hood of your car, to show her exactly why you’re the only she thinks about when she’s lonely and desperate.

But you don’t, despite the way your body is begging for you to do something, anything, to ease the ache in your cock.

Because if you stop, it’s over. You know how this ends—or rather, you know how she’ll want it to end. She’ll want you to apologise for even being in the proximity of another woman, she’ll want you to beg for her forgiveness so that she might bestow upon you the privilege of touching her again.

If you’re lucky, she just might let you. But only if you play her games.

So you drive faster.

You push the speed limit, weaving through the mostly empty streets.  You’re racing to a finish line, except all that’s waiting at the end of it is the taste of Wonyoung on your tongue, the feeling of her wrapped around you, the sweet victory of making her scream.

It’s hell—ignoring the sound of her pleasure, the wetness of her fingers working in and out of herself. There’s glimpses of her in the corner of your eye, she’s still watching you. She’s enjoying this, loving every second of it.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, oh-so-innocently, even though she doesn’t expect an answer—she just likes to hear her own voice. “Getting distracted? It’s a long, long way back to my place. No one can blame you if you need to give up and pull over.” 

Wonyoung’s getting bolder now, pulling her skirt up to her waist, parting her legs for you, so you can see her hand moving faster, her hips rising to meet her own touch. So you can hear her, hear the fucking sound of each stroke of her fingers inside her, punctuated each time by a wet slap of her palm against her cunt, reverberating through the car, taunting you.

“You want it, don’t you?” She throws the question out so casually, like of course it’s only natural for her to be fingering herself in your car, of course she should be doing everything in her power to make you want to drive into a fucking wall. “I can tell, you’re so desperate to touch me. Definitely going to die if you don’t fuck me soon. Maybe even right here, right now?”

Your foot slips and the car swerves a little—it’s not much, but it’s enough to let her know that you’re losing focus, that she’s winning.

“Careful,” she laughs. “You wouldn’t want to crash before we get to the fun part.”

“You can’t wait until we get back to your place?” You finally ask, the question burning in your throat.

“No. You need to be reminded that you’re-ah-mine,” comes Wonyoung’s answer. “You’re going to fuck me anyway, so why not-mmph-why not save us both the trouble and get started on my own?”

“You don’t own me, Wonyoung.”

To that, Wonyoung raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow.

It’s not even worth a proper reply. Without a word, Wonyoung reclines back into her seat and snaps open the buttons of her shirt, nonchalantly revealing the swell of her breasts, the darkened peaks of her nipples.

No bra—they’re just there. Right there, in your face—those tiny, round, perky tits that you’ve had in your hands, that you’ve had between your teeth, that you’ve covered with your cum more times than you can count.

She’s not shy about it—never has been—arching her back, pushing her breasts out even further. It’s the confidence from knowing every other idol (hell, every other woman in the world) would sell their soul to have a body like hers. So why the fuck not flaunt it?

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true,” she says, reaching up to her chest. A palm finds her tits, pinching and rolling the sensitive nubs, making them nice and red and swollen for you.

She’s moving faster now, grinding down on her own hand, teeth sinking down into her bottom lip so deep you’re surprised she hasn’t drawn blood. Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter, she’s so close, she’s so fucking turned on, she’s so hot it hurts.

Her eyes remain fixed on you; seeing you struggle only makes her hotter, spurs her to circle her clit faster. She’s drinking you in—the tightness of your jaw, the way your eyes can’t decide whether to keep on the road or on her, the way you swallow, trying (and failing) to keep it together.

The worst part of it all is this wicked smile that’s settled on her lips; thoughts of wiping it off her face with your cock flash through your mind. She’s just so fucking smug about it, so sure of herself.

And maybe she should be.

“Admit it,” Wonyoung purrs. “Admit that you need me.”

“Why would I? You’re just a convenient hole to fill.” It’s not true, of course. You’ve never believed it; none of the hundred times you’ve said it to her before—and she’s never once been fooled.

Wonyoung is back in your ear, “You’re a bad liar.”

Her hand’s returned to your thigh, teasing closer and closer to where you really want it to be. You grunt a weak, “Wonyoung, if you think that’s going to work—”

But she doesn’t listen (she never does).

She reaches for the bulge in your pants, far too quick for you to stop her from wrapping her fingers around you, from taking a hold of you and squeezing.

“See?” She whispers, thick with satisfaction, feeling you throb in her grip. “You’re already about to burst. You can’t resist me. No one can.”

You’re not backing down. You’ve got your own pride to think of, after all. “Save it for your fan club.”

Wonyoung’s never been one to take no for an answer. Her hand moves with purpose, sliding over your zipper and giving it a forceful tug. The sound rings through the car, and it’s an out of body experience; it’s all in slow motion as she pulls out your hard, aching cock.

Fuck.

“Last chance to pull over.” Wonyoung takes a hold of you, fingers curling around your cock with a firm grip that leaves no room for doubt—she’s not letting go until she gets what she wants.  “Who knows what will happen if you keep driving like this. Wouldn’t want to ruin these expensive leather seats with your cum, now would we?”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Your funeral,” she answers, her smile widening into a full-blown grin as she starts to move, stroking you, her hand gliding up and down your shaft with familiar ease. “Or ours, I guess.”

She’s not making it easy—there’s the slow, deliberate pumps, her thumb circling the head, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin. It’s so natural for her, so goddamn good. 

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Wonyoung’s question hangs in the air, joining the sound of her fist pumping your cock, the squish of her own fingers plunging in and out of her cunt. It’s a taunting metronome, the more you try to ignore her, the tighter she squeezes, the fastest she strokes you, the louder she moans in your ear. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“I’ve done it before and I can do it again,” you grit out. “You’re going to be the one begging for it in the end. Like always.”

She huffs, and you’ve found your mark. “Oh, really? You think you’re so much better than me? You think you can just ignore me like that?”

“Better than you? Easily,” you answer. “You’re just a pretty face and a pair of legs that can’t keep itself shut.”

That makes her stroke you harder, tighter now, firmer, she’s trying to make this hurt. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“What gives you the impression I even think about you at all?”

“Oh, I know it keeps you up at night—thinking about me, wondering if I’m thinking about you, wondering if any other slut can make you feel the way I do,” Wonyoung’s leaning on you, chin propped up on your shoulder, a devil in your ear. “You hate it, don’t you? You hate that it’s my cunt that you can’t get out of your head, that it’s my pretty lips that you need so badly around your cock.”

"Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Wony?” You ask, glancing down to her hand between her legs, her fingers deep in her folds, her cunt dripping with juices and making a small puddle beneath her. “Look at how wet you are at just the thought of having my cock back between your pretty lips again.”

“Fuck you.” Wonyoung’s panting, short harsh breaths. There’s no conviction in her voice, no denial to be found—this dance of spite and lust has her so fucking heated. All of it—the hate, the competition, the push and pull: it’s all just foreplay. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing but a back-up plan, a toy I play with when I’m bored.”

“Now who’s a bad liar.”

“Go fuck your—”

You don’t let her finish her insult. You’re tired of the back and forth, the games, the fucking power plays. You take your hand off the steering wheel, grabbing her by the hair, wrenching her head up to meet your eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re—” Wonyoung’s mistake is opening her mouth in protest—you push her face down onto your cock; not giving her a chance to argue, not giving her a chance to do anything but suck you dry like the skinny little slut she is.

She chokes, hacks a cough as you plunge your cock down her throat, her nose meeting your waist, and it nearly has you emptying into her mouth then and there.

Turns out, she’s right.

You do need this. Need to feel her perfect, pouty lips on you again, her teeth grazing against your skin, her tongue giving in and worshipping you like she’s never done with anyone else.

You keep a hand wrapped up in a fistful of her hair, but you don’t even need to hold her down—she doesn’t fight you, doesn’t even make the slightest noise of protest. No, she just takes it; never mind how much her eyes water, her mouth drools.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning before you can think better of it, and just like that, you’re conceding the smallest victory to her.

And it makes her smile around your cock.

You grunt in response; buck your hips, feed her your cock, make her gag (make her regret it).

You don’t ease up, because if there’s one thing you know about Wonyoung (one thing you know about fucking Wonyoung), it’s that the most insulting thing you can do to her is to take it easy on her.

Just fuck her face and behold the sight of Wonyoung taking your cock. God, her pretty lips wrapped around you, her throat bulging at your length, her teary eyes staring up at you with a mix of defiance and something that’s eerily close to adoration.

It almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to be driving, and it takes a honk from a car behind you and a smile and a curt nod from Wonyoung to remind you of the world rushing by outside.

You pull your eyes back to the road, both hands on the steering wheel to right the car back on track, barely escaping death by deepthroat.

Wonyoung laughs around your cock, a muffled sound that sends vibrations up your shaft. You try to ignore it, but she’s already seizing the opportunity, taking full advantage of the distraction to push down on her own accord, to take you deep—to start properly sucking.

You swerve again.

Her mouth is absolute heaven, pure and simple—she’s a fucking master at this. Your cock’s been in her mouth so many times before that she could probably write an instruction manual on exactly how to make you come unglued.

Too much all at once—you’re groaning now, unable to help it. She’s not even trying that hard; just taking your cock between her lips, sliding it all the way down her throat, a few gentle licks here, a swirl of her tongue there, but it’s more than enough. It’s what keeps you coming back. No one else feels like this—no one else has mapped out your cock like she has—every inch, every vein.

It’s the rhythm that she’s got down to a science: how fast to take you, how much pressure to apply, when to break from her pace to keep you teetering on the edge.

You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you for any sign of weakness—this is precisely where she wants to be. Like this was her decision—like everything leading up to this was part of some messed up strategy to provoke you, to make sure that your cock ended up in her mouth.

You don’t get a chance to dwell on that thought, not when Wonyoung’s teeth is at the base of your cock, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue doing these little flicks that make your toes curl.

And there’s the question in her eyes: ’is that all you got?’.

Fuck it—risk taking your hand off the steering wheel, it belongs in her silky, dark hair. Make her eyes widen, make her take you deeper, kiss the back of her throat with the tip of your cock, force these divine fucking sounds.

The noises when she gags around you, when the spit is hacked up and drooled down your cock; she’s so sloppy, so filthy.  

And she takes it, takes all of it.

Push her down before pulling her up by the hair, choke her, gag her, have her slobber all over your cock, make her feel you.

Wonyoung takes and takes and takes.

It’s fucked up how you’re treating her (how she’s letting you treat her); she’s an idol for fucks sake. But that’s the last concern you have on your mind—all you can focus on is how fucking good it feels to do this to her, to have her fighting for air around your cock, fighting to keep her eyes on you as you fill them with tears.

Wonyoung’s not giving up though—she’s timing it, timing you. When to relax her throat to take you deep. When to suction her lips. Where to dart her tongue to find that sensitive spot along your shaft.

She’s battling back, in her own way, just as determined as you are to not lose this war of wills. But in the end, you’re the one in the driver’s seat.

“Mmmph,” she’s the one moaning now, moaning around your cock. Shivering in your lap, body jerking and trembling; you can tell her fingers are still buried in her cunt, playing with herself.

She’s so fucking shameless, so fucking pretty, even like this—cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, eyes watering.

You want to kiss her, but that would mean separating her lips from your cock. You want to tell her how much you hate her, but the words won’t come out—they’re stuck in your throat, lodged between your grinding teeth.

“Wait—fuck.” You realise you’ve missed your turn, a split second too late. You jerk the steering wheel, needing both hands as you pull a sharp U-turn. The tires squeal as you try to correct your error, Wonyoung’s mouth around your dick scrambling your brains.

She pulls her lips off from your cock with a hollow ‘pop’. “I thought you could handle me?”

You try to reply—try to form a single coherent thought—but the chance slips by as Wonyoung’s back on the offense, back throating your cock so quickly that your vision swims.

A deep breath is what you need to keep it together. You’re barely thinking straight, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, doing everything you can to keep yourself from giving up (giving in to Wonyoung’s mouth).

But it’s hard. So fucking hard.

You’ve blown far past any normal speed limit, trying to keep from spinning out with every one of her enthusiastic bobs—it’s by some divine benevolence the car hasn’t completely flipped over by now.

Wonyoung’s relentless, her mouth’s a fucking black hole, sucking you in, stealing every thought from your mind until there’s nothing rattling around your skull but the feel of her wet, warm lips on your cock, and the obscene sounds of her fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, fucking herself.

You’re almost there, and Wonyoung knows it. You can feel it in the suction of her lips, in how hard she’s working you over. It’s the sweetest kind of torture—knowing that she’s got you right where she wants you, that she’s got you on the edge and you can’t do anything about it.

You’re not going to last much longer.

Neither is she.

So you drive. You drive like your life depends on it, because maybe it does. Maybe the only thing keeping you sane is the promise of your eventual release, of filling her mouth with her cum, of pulling her onto your lap and fucking her cunt raw until she screams your name.

“Come on, you can do it,” she’s taunting you now, lathering your cock with just her tongue, dragging it along your length, licking you all the way from your balls to your head. She’s giggling as she steals the pre-cum from your tip, the fucking bitch—like she’s got all the power in the world.

You can see her apartment building in the distance, a beacon of light in the darkness.

You’re almost there.

You reach for the garage remote, mashing the button as you get closer and closer (you’re going to break it). The gate sluggishly opens, and you make a sharp turn to swerve into the dimly lit building, not bothering to slow down.

You can’t, not when Wonyoung’s balancing your cock on her tongue, her hand now squeezing at your base, stroking so fast, so erratic, determined to have you cum in her mouth as soon as fucking possible.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she asks, expectantly. “Cover me in it, give me what I deserve—show me how much you need me.”

The car’s screeching to the closest parking space, the sound echoing through the garage, as you skid between parallel white lines.

You’re cumming before the car’s even completely stopped.

It’s explosive; a white-hot heat searing through your veins, a roar in your ears as you shower Wonyoung’s perfect face with ropes of cum. She’s still jerking you off with her hand, her mouth hovering around the head of your cock, slurping up every drop she can get.

“All mine,” she chants, greedy for it. You pulse in her hand, your cum spurting over her cheekbones, across her nose, painting over that tiny dark freckle above the corner of her mouth.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink; she’s a statue, a goddess demanding her sacrifice. Her grip is ironclad, stroking you through your orgasm, not stopping until you’re drained, until your cock is twitching in her hand and there’s nothing left but a sticky mess plastered across her big, wide grin.

You feel the last of your orgasm pulse out of you, dripping down her dainty fingers. She licks her lips, smearing your cum across her cheek with her thumb before she sits up straight, basking in her victory.

“Fuck, Wonyoung,” you manage to get out, your chest heaving, your hand finally loosening its grip on the steering wheel.

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, not looking away from you, not breaking the eye contact that’s holding you in place. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

She’s not done yet—she still has to take her victory lap.

Wonyoung pulls herself off you, giving the tip of your cock a parting kiss as she sits back in her seat. She lifts her legs up—those endless stretches of porcelain skin—one after another, slow, dramatic, placing her bare feet on the dashboard.

Her skirt rides up, and with a stretch she drags her panties up her thighs, along her calves, and off her feet; the lace is soaked with her juices, leaving a trail of stickiness as she reveals herself to you.

The panties disappear somewhere into the backseat of your car, another spoil of war, and she spreads her legs wide, so wide, making sure you have a perfect view of her gleaming cunt. You can see her clit, peeking out from between her folds, and it’s all you can do to keep your hand from reaching over and taking over.

But this is her show, isn’t it? This is all for her, all about her getting off. And she’s fucking drowning in it—fingers in her cunt again almost immediately, so wet, so hot, so shameless in your car, so confident in her ability to get what she wants from you.

Her hips rock up and down, she’s fucking herself in front of you—for you. She’s daring you to look away, challenging you to deny how fucking hot she is.

You can’t.

“I’m going to cum now.” It’s a low hush, confident. “Watch me. Don’t move. Just fucking watch me.”

Wonyoung’s eyes are crystal clear, staring deep into you with the look of a girl who’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted in life. It’s that look she gets right before she shatters, and you know she’s there—right fucking there.

Her other hand reaches up, cradling your cheek, needing some connection, needing you to be with her. It’s not enough to just simply cum, she needs you to see it, to be a part of it in some twisted way.

“Just look at you,” Wonyoung says, like she’s not the one that’s covered in your cum, that’s not bucking her hips into her hand, working herself into a frenzy, like she’s trying to tear herself apart. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”

And she’s right—you hate her, you love her, you want to fuck her, you want to strangle her—it’s all a jumble of emotions in your head.

“That’s it—keep looking at me—don’t fucking take your eyes off me—fuck—yes—I’m going to—”

The only warning you get is a strangled gasp as Wonyoung cums, feeling it through her entire body, forcing her to keel over by just the force of it, making her fall into you.

Her hand on your cheek drags down to wrap around your neck, anchoring herself to you, pulling herself closer so she can smash her mouth against yours.

She’s kissing you, really kissing you, mouth open and hungry, all teeth and tongue, sloppy and wet. She’s marking her territory now, claiming you as she cums, and fuck, you can still taste yourself on her lips—salty and bitter.

Wonyoung’s hand is still working her clit, prolonging her bliss, and then she’s climbing on top of you, straddling you, grinding down on your half-hard cock as she rides out the last of her orgasm.

Her thighs are sticky with her juices, her skirt riding up so high that you can see the bare, plump skin of her ass, and you’re fighting the urge to just push it aside and plunge your cock inside her—

But she’s not giving you that satisfaction—not yet.

Her climax dies right on top of you—her hips rolling on her fingers, her body living and dying on the last embers of pleasure.

Finally, Wonyoung stops, collapsing against your chest, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her body pressing down on you. She’s a mess, a fucking disaster, and you hold her tight, your arms around her impossibly tiny waist, your cock coming back to life between her thighs.

It’s intimate, almost kind of romantic in a way that’s entirely fucked up, considering, well everything. You’re both a mess of cum and sweat, panting against each other, intertwined together in the driver’s seat of your car, the garage lights flickering overhead like some kind of sick mood lighting.

Wonyoung laughs.

“You’re all sticky.” She leans back, taking her finger and swiping it across your cheek, coming away with a glistening strand of your own cum, a rope that must have strayed from her face and onto yours.

There’s a glint in her eyes, a dirty little idea, and before you can even react, she’s leaning in again, her tongue tracing the line of your jaw, collecting the rogue drops of you.

She rolls her hips down and over you as she does it, stirring your cock back to attention, because apparently she’s not done with you yet.

“You’re a fucking bitch, Wonyoung,” you reply, but there’s no venom behind it. You’re just stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun rises in the east, and Wonyoung is a bitch.

It’s just the way she is.

You can feel her smirking against your neck, you can picture the look on her face—like she’s already won. It’s infuriating, really, and you’ve got to even the score.

“What are you going to do, take me upstairs and punish me?”

“No,” you say, the word sticking in your throat like it’s made of honey. “Not upstairs.”

“Here?” Wonyoung looks around your car, doing a terrible job of feigning shock (as if she doesn’t know what you’re about to do to her). Yes, she’s a horrendous actress, but it would take an Oscar worthy performance to mask the heat radiating from her thighs, her cunt dripping down onto your lap. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”  

A press of a button has your seat sliding back, giving you just enough room to lift Wonyoung up, hoisting her above you like she’s a trophy you just won. Congratulations, here’s your Grand Prize—Wonyoung’s tight body, yours for the night (yours for every night).

She can’t do anything but be held by you, have her hips positioned, her cunt aligned with your cock—in your hands, at your mercy, under your control.

“Wait, wait—fuck—”

And then you slam into her.

“Daddy!”

That word. That filthy, devastating word is fucked out of her mouth, a gasping scream as you bury yourself deep into her.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

You don’t bother with gentleness or foreplay—this isn’t a romantic reunion after a long day apart. It’s your hands on her narrow hips; hers doing its best to brace herself on the roof of the car, the window, anywhere she can get a grip.

“Say it again,” you grunt, pulling her back down on you, so hard that she bounces back up, only to be met by another thrust.

“Fuck you,” she spits out, but she’s moaning with every thrust, tightening around you each time, her body betraying her words.

“Fuck you, who?” You’re laughing now, the sound thick and low in your throat as you watch her squirm in your grasp. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, baby.”

“You know who,” she says, her eyes flying open, glaring at you as she catches her breath. “You always know who.”

“Then say it.”

“Fuck you, daddy.”

“That’s fucking right.”

Her legs are trembling around your waist as you drive into her, her nails digging into the threads of your shirt. She’s begging you for more—harder, faster, deeper—because that’s what she wants from you, that’s what she needs from you. It’s always been like this—no soft embraces, no tender kisses. Just more, more, more.

You wrap your hand around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her who’s in charge, who’s giving it to her. You lean in, so close her eyes cross, and whisper in her ear, “This is all you’re good for, you know that?”

Wonyoung’s response is to tense her muscles, clench her cunt around you, buck her hips to slap her ass against your thighs. Another battleground in your endless fight for dominance. Fighting for control, trying to dictate the pace, to set the rhythm, to be the one doing the fucking and not the one getting fucked.

And fuck, she’s tight.

Her cunt, her waist, her body. God, it’s like she was built for this.

Designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand, to be filled by your cock, to have her skirt hiked up to her waist like a flag of surrender. You’ve got her right where you want her, where she’s always been, where she always will be.

“I fucking hate how good you are at this,” she gasps, the confession spilling from her lips.

You laugh, “I fucking hate you too.”

She’s kissing you again, fingers in your hair now, scraping the back of your scalp, as she rises and falls on your cock. Reflex has your hand tightening around her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your thumb, making her choke out another ‘daddy’.

You’re fucking her like you hate her, like you’re trying to punish her for every sharp word and cold shoulder she’s ever thrown your way. And she’s taking it like she loves it, like she’s been waiting for this all night, all year, all her fucking life.

Wonyoung looks so fucking good, so perfect riding you like this, it’s starting to piss you off. Her hair’s framing her face in perfect waves, not a single strand out of place, even though you’ve had your hands all through it, your fingers tangled in it. Her makeup’s smudged—you can see the tracks of your cum on her cheek—but she wears it like a fucking badge of honour—and like all things, it looks good on her.

It’s like the universe took one look at her and said, ‘nah, she’s too pretty to let any of that shit ruin her.’

But you’ll try.

Keep going—keep fucking; each moan into your mouth, each push of her tongue against your own, each graze of her teeth against your skin—tells you you’re getting there.

Like you’re trying to fuck out all the spite and anger that’s been building up between you, like you can somehow purge it from your systems and just be left with the good parts.

(It’s never that simple.)

“Wonyoung—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“If I could just have your cock without the rest of you—without your stupid mouth, without that fucking look on your face—fuck yes, just like that—without all the bullshit and fighting—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

You don’t believe her, of course—you’re not just a cock to her, the same as she’s not just a pussy to you. But you let her have her fantasy, let her keep pretending she’s just using you for a good time.

“You’re such a bitch,” you murmur, making her chuckle in your ear, her teeth finding the sensitive skin of your lobe, biting down and making you hiss.

Wonyoung’s confession: “Only because it—gah—makes you fuck me harder.”

And it does—it makes you want to show her, prove yourself to her, make her feel it the next day and every day after. Fuck her until she’s nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, until she’s begging for you to stop. Until she’s begging for you to never stop.

You’re both getting sloppier now, Wonyoung’s hips stuttering as you pound that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars and scream your name, the car shaking with the force of your fucking.

It’s a badly-kept secret you’re keeping from the world outside—the car’s rocking, the lights inside are on, making no efforts to hide what the two of you are doing (doing to each other).

If anyone looks closely enough, if the security cameras in the garage get curious and zoom in, they’ll see your silhouettes; her body arching back, your hips thrusting up and into her.

They’ll see Jang Wonyoung, the princess of the industry, getting fucked in the front seat of a car like some common whore.

And she’s loving it. The danger, the thrill of being seen, the risk that anyone could walk by and hear her moan your name, her voice strained by your hand on her throat. It’s the fact that she’s letting you do this to her, that she’s letting you fuck her like this, even when she’s telling you she fucking hates it.

This moment—Wonyoung—right here, is what you live for.

You want to save it, to bottle it up and keep it with you forever. You want to remember how she feels, how she tastes, the fucking sounds she makes when she’s just about to cum. You want to replay this in your head every time you’re alone, every time you’re with someone else—because even though there might be someone else, they’ll never come fucking close to her.

And then you get an idea.

It’s a terrible idea, one that’ll surely end in disaster—like all the best ideas.

You hold down on Wonyoung’s hips, stopping her mid-thrust, and she’s whining, letting slip just how good you’re making her feel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps, taking short, sharp inhales, replenishing all the oxygen you’ve fucked out of her.

You ignore her, reaching for the dashboard camera that’s been silently facing outside, towards the wall of the garage. It’s been switched on the entire time, waiting to record the car crash inside—you and Wonyoung tearing each other apart.

Wonyoung’s scared. “Oh no, don’t you fucking—”

But she can’t stop you. You’re already spinning it around, pointing it directly at her cum-covered face, her sweat-drenched body.

“Smile for the camera, Wony.”

Her mouth opens, but she can’t muster the words. You’re fucking her again, the camera watching everything, capturing every moan, every slight quiver of her body. It’s a side of her nobody gets to see—the side you’re most familiar with.

Wonyoung at her most honest, when she’s undeniably yours.

Just her—getting used (using you)—and fuck, there’s nothing more worthy to be captured and preserved for all eternity.

Her eyes dart to the camera, then back to you, her mind racing a mile a minute. You can see the gears turning—she’s trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to win back some ground, but she’s lost.

You’ve got her, and she knows it.

You’re fucking her, and she has no choice but to follow—whether she likes it or not.

“Fine,” she says, the admission torn from her throat as you push back into her. “But if this leaks—if you ever show this to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.”

You just laugh. “You really think so little of me? Like anyone would believe it anyway.”

And you mean it. You’re not that stupid. But the thought of having a permanent record of this moment, of Wonyoung, begging in high definition—it has you hooked.

You can’t help but add, “But we’ll always know it’s there, won’t we? Forever.”

Wonyoung narrows her brows at you, but she doesn’t protest anymore. Instead, she does the opposite. She starts to lean into it.

She tips her head back, arching her spine so that her tits are pushed up, giving the camera a picture-perfect shot of her body, her chest, the stiffness of her nipples—everything.

Jang Wonyoung—always the performer.

A free hand runs through her hair, flinging it back over her shoulder, and she starts to roll her whole body; fucking herself on you in a way that’s so deliberate, so fucking pornographic.

“God, I fucking hate this.” Wonyoung puts it on public record, eyes never leave yours as she performs for the camera—or for you, it’s hard to tell.

“What’s that, baby?” You tease. "You hate how good this feels?”

“I hate that it’s you,” she says, the words forced out between gasps. “I hate how fucking hot you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

You’ll never understand it. How someone you despise so much, with every fibre of your being, can fit so perfectly around you, feel so downright incredible on top of you. It’s a cruel joke that the universe decided to play on you both.

But you play along, let her ride you like it’s her fucking birthright, lock you in some petty staring contest, keep your mind filled with nothing but the tightness of her cunt.

You’re both panting now, sweat slicking your skin, making it easier for her to slide up and down on your cock. Her small tits bounce with every movement, and you can’t help but reach out to grab one, pinch it hard, making her wince, making her gasp.

“Fuck—you should quit whatever the fuck you’re doing,” she says, trying her best to form complete sentences through the pain, the bliss. “Work for me.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know.” Wonyoung looks down at you and you can see it on her face: the fucking slut is dead serious. “Manager, bodyguard, assistant. Whatever I can do to keep you close so you can fuck me like this whenever I want. If Yujin can have her drummer boy, it’s only fair that I get you.”

“Why the fuck would I want to spend all day waiting on you?”

She corrects you: “Spend all day inside of me.”

There’s your fantasy—mornings fucking Wonyoung in some hotel room, drinking all the juices from her pussy in the car on the way to work, having her suck your cock backstage at some concert, making her scream your name every night before going to sleep.

And then waking up and doing it all again.

There’s no hiding the smirk on your face. “Go fuck yourself, Wonyoung.”

Wonyoung mirrors your grin, that wild, cock-drunk look in her eyes. “Why would I do that when I have you?”

“No.” You’re pulling her close, holding her body tight to you, making her feel it. “You’re mine.”

That word again—'daddy’ on her lips, turning into a desperate cry as her thighs tense on either side of you, her hands locking behind your neck. She’s holding on tight, because you’re not giving her a choice, you’re not giving her anything but what she’s begging for.

You watch her face in the reflection of the car window—the way her mouth hangs open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then open again, searching for something, anything to keep her grounded.

"Fuck me like I’m yours,” Wonyoung pleads. “You own me? Then fucking treat me like you do. Treat me like I’m your fucking whore, daddy.”

It’s too much, all of it. Wonyoung: her face—those lips, her body—those fucking legs, her voice—the way she says your name, how she calls you daddy, like it’s a fucking curse. You’re so close to the edge now, so close to cumming again, cumming inside her. You can feel the beginnings of it, the tension coiling in your balls, the white creeping into your vision.

But she’s still talking—and so are you, you realise.

One of you cries out—holy shit—answered with a—so fucking good—followed by an exchange of—fuck yous—and—I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

It keeps going, this fucking, this using, this hating—whatever this is.

“I fucking hate you—”

“Hate you too—”

“Hate how good your cunt feels—”

“Hate how big your cock is—”

“Hate how perfect you are—”

“Hate how much I want your fucking cum—”

“Fucking slut—"

“Daddy—”

“I’m going to—"

"Please!"

And that’s it.

It’s over—your cock pulsing deep inside her, Wonyoung’s cunt clamping down around you, and you’re cumming—together—tightening and writhing and calling each other every name under the sun, except maybe the one that actually matters.

Wonyoung’s head falls back, losing control of her own body, the camera catching every glorious moment as she cums, her orgasm ripping through her in a scream that you feel in every inch of your body.

You kiss her—her tits, her neck, her jaw, her lips—claiming her, making sure she feels every drop of you. You hate her, you love her, you hate that you love her, you love that she needs you, you hate that you need her.

And all the while the camera keeps rolling, capturing your sweaty, heaving chests; capturing you filling her, spilling out of her, giving her the cum she so desperately pleaded for. It’s so much more intimate than any kiss, any love confession, any of that romantic shit she sings about.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

It’s every twitch, every shiver, every little pulse of your release flooding her. How she tenses and clenches around you, soaks you with her wetness, drowns you in her tight, drenched heat.

And she keeps calling you it—whispering it—‘daddy’—over and over again, even as she’s coming down from the high, even as she’s gasping for air, even as she’s forcing her tongue into your mouth.

Wonyoung slumps against you, your cum dripping out of her and down your cock, staining the leather of your car seats. You can feel the stickiness of it, the mess you’ve made together. It makes you want to do it all over again.

To make her say it again, to make her scream it again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” you murmur against her neck, kissing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat.

Wonyoung just nods, too exhausted to argue, too satisfied to care. Her hand finds yours, weaves your fingers together, and you hold onto her, tight. It’s sickeningly sweet, and yet, despite your best efforts, the insult, the quip to break the spell doesn’t come.

Because in the end, you don’t want to kill the moment—not when it’s so perfect.

You don’t want to ruin it with talk of the real world, with the harshness of the light that’ll be waiting outside the car door.

You stay there, parked in the garage of her apartment building, the headlights dimming down to black. The air is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, the taste of it lingering on your tongues. It’s a bubble you’re both loath to burst—because once it does, once it pops, you’re just Wonyoung and some guy she fucking hates again.

“Thank you, daddy.” Wonyoung’s breathing slows, her grip on you loosens. She’s drifting off, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally claiming her.

You don’t know how long you sit there, the two of you tangled together. It’s quiet except for the occasional hum from her, a cute little sound that she’s probably unaware she makes. It’s soothing, almost sweet.

But reality has a way of crashing in, doesn’t it?

You know you can’t stay here forever. You know you’ve got to get her upstairs before someone sees, before the cameras (the dangerous ones, the ones you don’t own) spot you. Before the rest of the world catches up.

You ease her off your cock, she whines, her eyes struggling open. “Take me home,” she mumbles, still not fully coherent.

“Already am, baby,” you reply, gently untangling her body from yours.

With a bit of effort, you manage to get her into an almost presentable state—straightening her skirt, buttoning her shirt, dabbing the cum that’s pooled between her thighs. She watches you as you do it, through a hazy gaze, still recovering from being fucked into oblivion.

It’s an act. Partly at least. A way to save face—pretend that it’s only the exhaustion, that she doesn’t really need you, doesn’t really want to be taken care of like this. Doesn’t want to nuzzle her head into your shoulder, or hug you tight, or have you kiss her on the forehead and tell her that you’ve got her.

Tomorrow she’ll yell at you for it, probably call you an overbearing asshole for treating her like a delicate flower. Make fun of you for going soft, for totally falling under her spell.

(And sometime even later, in a moment when she’s all quiet and feeling vulnerable, right after you’ve fucked each other and hated each other and ended up holding each other for the millionth time, Wonyoung will say:

“You’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

You’ll know what she means right away; you’ll kiss her again and you’ll answer:

“I know.”)

Because despite the fact that when she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch, you’re also kind of in love with her.

And, if you were to ask her, she’d probably the same about 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)

[official-cvntified-gay]

Flight Attendant: A Pilot's Special

❥ Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Reader

❥ note: ugh I'm a whore for captain abby, I wrote this after I read a captain abby oneshot in ao3. Also request is open<3

The plane was getting prepped for another day in the sky. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow on the tarmac, and you could feel the buzz of excitement mingled with nervousness coursing through your veins. It was your first day as a flight attendant—something you had worked hard for—and you wanted everything to go perfectly.

Dressed in your crisp uniform, you made sure your hair was in place, your name tag shining proudly on your chest. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the plane, your heart thudding against your ribs as you imagined the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

"Relax, you've got this," you muttered under your breath, trying to psych yourself up.

“First day, huh?” A voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a woman standing tall with an air of authority, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her uniform neat and immaculate. Abby Anderson, the captain. Her reputation preceded her—known for being efficient, cold, and not exactly the warmest person on board. People whispered about her strict demeanor, her professionalism that sometimes felt intimidating.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, taken aback by her sudden presence.

“Captain Anderson,” she introduced herself, not offering a handshake. Her blue eyes bore into yours, unreadable, as she nodded. “I expect everything to run smoothly.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied quickly, trying not to let her intimidating presence throw you off.

She gave you a curt nod before turning away. You could feel the weight of her authority, the way she commanded attention without even trying. As you went about your duties, you noticed how the other crew members seemed tense around her. She wasn’t mean, exactly—just...distant. Detached. Every movement was precise, every word clipped, like she was too busy to waste time on pleasantries.

But then, something strange happened.

Every so often, you caught her glancing your way. When she passed by, there was an almost imperceptible softening in her expression, a flicker of something warmer. You thought it was just your imagination, but then it happened again—and again.

It wasn’t until halfway through the flight that she approached you directly.

"You're doing well for your first day." Her voice was still professional, but there was a teasing edge to it now, a hint of something more.

"Thank you, Captain," you replied, trying to sound as professional as possible, but you could feel your cheeks heating under her gaze.

"Abby," she corrected, her tone softer. She took a step closer, and your breath caught in your throat. "No need for formalities when it's just the two of us."

"Abby," you repeated, the name feeling foreign on your tongue.

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “You look a little nervous, you know. Is it me? Because I swear I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising in your cheeks. "W-what?"

Abby chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Relax. I’m just messing with you.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “Or maybe I’m not.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way her presence seemed to engulf you. Was this really happening? The stoic, cold Captain Anderson was flirting with you?

For the rest of the flight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Abby’s eyes on you. Every time you passed her in the cockpit or while making rounds, her gaze lingered just a little too long, a teasing smile pulling at her lips.

By the end of the shift, you were a bundle of nerves and confusion. You were standing by the exit, helping passengers disembark when Abby approached you once again, standing a little too close.

“You did good today,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like a woman who can keep her cool under pressure.”

“I-I try,” you managed to stammer, your brain short-circuiting from her proximity.

"Mm, I noticed." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "You should let me take you out for a drink sometime. Help you unwind after a long day."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was this a joke? Was she serious? But when you turned to meet her gaze, the playful glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I— uh— I don’t know—” you started, but Abby cut you off with a smirk.

“Think about it.” She winked, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’m a patient woman.”

She turned to leave, walking off with that same air of cool detachment she always had. But this time, there was a sway in her step that told you she knew exactly what effect she had on you.

For the next few weeks, Abby didn’t let up. Every time you were on the same flight, she found some excuse to be near you. She'd make a casual comment, brush past you just close enough to make your skin tingle, and offer you those teasing little smiles that left you breathless.

One day, you were struggling with a particularly heavy overhead bin when Abby appeared out of nowhere, easily pushing it into place with one hand.

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“I had it,” you muttered, embarrassed that she had caught you in such a moment of weakness.

“Of course you did.” She grinned, leaning in slightly. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your thoughts spinning. You couldn’t deny it any longer—Abby Anderson had a hold on you, and she knew it.

Every time she smiled at you, every time she teased you, you found yourself falling deeper. And Abby? She was relentless in her pursuit.

She was the Captain, after all—and she always got what she wanted.

And this time, what she wanted was you.

[mywritersmind]

LIFE IMITATES ART - LN4

summary : a favorite painting of a hurried kiss meets two strangers who’s friends loved to torture.

listen up : shy-ish reader lol

word count : 801

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The kiss.

I stand in front of the painting in a blue top the same color as the woman’s dress.

Oil on Canvas, it reads.

My friend touches my arm and makes me jump, “You and this painting…” she shakes her head, crossing her arms and facing it, “I just don’t understand. It’s… plain.”

“Plain?” I scoff, “It’s a work of pure beauty. The work of shadows and body positioning… It’s just amazing to me. I haven’t even mentioned the ominous sort of mystery of the dark corridor, it just makes you realize that to tell a story it doesn’t need to be written d-” I turn to my friend except she’s replaced with a curly haired brunette man. “Oh.”

He’s looking at me fondly, like he had been listening, “Don’t let me stop you.”

My hand goes to my necklace, “I’m sorry- I was talking to my friend and she…” I look around to see her speaking to a tan dark haired man, “She’s distracted, per usual.”

He chuckles a bit, “My friend gets distracted easily as well.” I turn back to him, british, I can hear it in his voice. “Especially by beautiful women. Something we have in common…” I ignore my face heating.

Turning back to the work as he looks at it with me, “I’ve always wondered about the shadows as well… I'm not close to an artist but I can tell what this one was trying to say.”

I bite my lip, “And what do you think that is?”

His hands go behind his back, his red sweater shifting as he moves, “That they’re running out of time, that something is coming.”

I nod, he took the words right out of my mouth, I turn to him, examining his face from the side. Hes tan, with a slight cut on his oddly perfect nose, when he smiles, a bit of a dimple appears.

“I’m Y/n.” I say quickly.

He turns to me, “Lando.”

“Lando?” I say, “interesting name.”

His eyes narrow, “In a good way?”

“We’ll see.” I shrug. My friend hurries back over to me, speaking much too loud for a museum.

“Y/n! You two are matching the painting!” She points to Lando and I’s clothing and I realize the colors really do look perfectly like the painting, “Kiss!”

“What?” I actually laugh at her words.

“What she said!” Lando’s friend cuts in, “Be brave, Lando!”

Lando scoffs, “Don’t act like I've never kissed a woman.”

The friend just shrugs and Lando rolls his eyes, “Kiss!” they say again.

“I don’t even know him.”

“Lando, introduce yourself!” the friend hits his arm.

“I did!” Lando protects himself, “We’re acquainted, leave her alone, Carlos.”

I glance at him but he’s staring daggers at Carlos who’s just grinning. My friend pulls out her phone, holding it up, “Kiss.” she says again.

She eyes me and I know I'm screwed. When we came to Italy I said it was my mission to do something out of my comfort zone. This is definitely out of it.

I take a second, then breathe, “Fine.” I face Lando who looks genuinely shocked.

He leans down a bit, whispering, “Are you sure?”

His proximity makes me nervous and I need to stop overthinking this, “Yes. It’s my favorite painting. Life imitates art, right?”

He just laughs and cups my face in his hand, leaning in close slowly, his eyes flicking to my lips. I give him one last nod of approval and his lips meet mine in a soft and tender way.

His skin is warm against mine, the cool of his rings press against my jaw, directly contrasting that. He holds me the same way the man holds the woman in the painting.

I hear our friends giggling and he’s off me in a matter of seconds. He looks a bit flushed and I know my cheeks are matching the pink of his.

“You’re a good kisser.” He whispers before turning back to our friends and asking for the picture.

Carlos alerts Lando that they have to go, “Like, five minutes ago!” The Spanish man says.

“Shit! Sorry.” He looks at me kindly, “It was nice meeting you- and kissing you…” He laughs a bit and a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“You too…” That’s all I can say before he is running out the door.

“Damn.” My friend crosses her arms, “They were hot.”

I get the DM while laying in bed, sighing to myself about the boy who let me check off something from my Italy bucket list. My heart rate has never spiked so high.

One message request - LANDO NORRIS

[writerslittlelibrary]

"Children aren't payment, dipshit"

masterlist

summary: the most feared mob in all of New York only has one rival, which happens to be your father’s mob. When it turns out he is indebted to the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff, he uses the only thing he has to pay her, you…

pairing: Mob!Natasha x rival mob young reader

warnings: guns, violence, basic mob fic stuff ig :) 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 1339

a/n: this was an adorable idea! (I feel like this is trash, but I just have to get back into my writing flow)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has always been difficult, being the daughter of a dangerous mob boss. It wasn’t like you were forced to kill and train with your father’s minions, but you had been living a far from normal life, to say the least.

When you turned seven, your father had called you into his office. 

You had always been a nice and obedient girl, totally opposite of your father, so when he called you to him and told you you were going to stay with your aunties for a while, you believed it. Your father had sent you and your bodyguard to your room, telling you to pack all your important items. 

Once you had finished packing, your father had given you a hug and you had been brought to the car, your bodyguard driving you across town. 

However, once the car stopped at a large apartment building, you had started getting a bit suspicious. This isn’t where your aunties lived…

Your bodyguard had taken you out of the car, but you didn’t want to, leading to him dragging you out, dragging you up to the doors of the building. Once you had arrived at the doors, two women were standing there. One had blonde hair, and the other had black hair. The women with black hair grabbed your arm, allowing your bodyguards to walk back to the car and retrieve your bag, handing it to the blonde women.

After he did so, he walked back to the car and drove away. 

The two women entered the building, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that read ‘PH’. As soon as the doors closed, the women with black hair let go of your arm. However, despite her removing her grip, you still didn’t feel like you could move freely. You were fairly certain that one wrong move and she would be on you again. 

And so, you stood perfectly still, refusing to move, even when the elevator moved a bit. 

The two women barely acknowledged your presence, instead opting to look straight ahead. You felt uneasy standing in between them. 

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened at the women with black hair grabbed your arm again, leading you out of the elevator and to a dark wooden door. The blonde haired women walked ahead, knocking on the door twice before waiting for a “come in” to be called from the other side. 

Once the approval was given, the two women walked in, dragging you after them. 

Inside the room was another woman. You recognised her immediately. Who wouldn’t? Your father had always warned you about her. She was the most feared mob boss that New York, or the world really, had ever seen. 

You were in the office of Natasha fucking Romanoff. Were you about to get killed?

The two women walked a bit further into the room, forcefully pushing you down on the chair in front of the desk. 

You didn’t dare protest, nor did you say a word. You were absolutely terrified. Your father had warned you about this women every single day of your life, refusing to let you go outside without protection because of her, and now he had knowingly sent you to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

After you were sat down on the chair, the women with black hair exited the room again, leaving you, Natasha Romanoff, and the blonde haired women in the room. 

“Thank you for bringing her up Carol, you can put her bag in her room,” Natasha spoke, dismissing ‘Carol’ before focusing her attention on you. 

Carol left the room, leaving you and Natasha Romanoff alone. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused, sweetheart, but don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Natasha reassured, smiling kindly as she stacked a few papers and put them off to the side.

You took a moment, gathering the courage before you spoke. 

“Why am I here…?” you asked quietly, hoping not to disturb Natasha or step out of line.

Natasha smiled, turning to you once more. 

“Your father made some pretty nasty deals. Deals that he couldn’t follow through on. He needed to pay me something, and he didn’t have the money, so I demanded you instead,” Natasha explained, leaving you to look at her with a shocked face.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweet girl. I promise you were are much better company than your father’s mob ever was,” Natasha stated, smiling sweetly before she moved to get up, walking around the desk towards you. 

She extended her hand, motioning for you to grab it. 

“How about we go check out your new room?” she suggested, allowing you a moment to think before you nodded and hesitantly grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull you up. 

She led you out of the office, leading you through the pent house towards another door, which was a different colour than the rest of the doors. The door was a beautiful dark shade of your favourite colour, and while you thought your favourite colour would never go with the aesthetic of the apartment, for some reason Natasha made it work. 

She pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside and take in the room. It was beautifully decorated and exactly your style. 

Your eyes widened in excitement, jumping up slightly. You weren’t able to contain your excitement as you saw the room. It was perfect. 

Natasha smiled as she observed your reaction, letting go of your hand to allow you to look around. You did, running from place to place to explore all the play items placed in the cupboards, ending your little exploration by jumping on the bed. 

“I love it!” you yelled out, letting yourself drop on the bed. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

You had lived with Natasha for about three months now, and you were happier than you had ever been. Natasha never hit you if you did something wrong, and she played with you everyday. She was willing to drop all her work if you asked her to play dress up, or if you asked her to play with your dolls. 

You had never been more loved than you were now, and you were happy your father had offered you as payment to Natasha Romanoff. 

Her henge people also adored you. You would play with them as well, and everytime they happily played with you. Your favourite were Carol and Valkyrie. They were the two women that had brought you in on the first day, and they turned out to be your best friends. 

Little did you know that Natasha had known you father hit you at home. She knew the mob boss of the rival mob was not just any criminal. He didn’t have morals, or principles. He did what he did when he felt like it. He wasn’t a good person to those he cared about, so when Natasha found out he had a daughter, she knew she needed to investigate. 

She had sent a hengemen uncover to find out more about you, and what was reported back to her shocked her. 

You were hit whenever you stepped out of line, and you were not well taken care of at all. Once Natasha learned about your situation, she decided she had to get you out, setting up an elaborate deal she knew your father couldn’t get out of.

When you father unsurprisingly failed to follow through on his end of the deal, he was in large debt with Natasha, and she knew she could demand anything from him. 

And so, she demanded she would get you as payment, knowing your father couldn’t do anything but follow through. 

Over the months she had build a soft spot for you, and she was more than glad that she had done what she did. She saved you, and now you were happy. 

Natasha Romanoff may not have been the best human being on the planet, but to those she cared about, she could not have been better. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[byeolbeloved]

This one is mine

pairing ➛ stalker!sheriff!yunho × reader

genre & warnings ➛ enemies to lovers, yunho is a stalker, smut smut smut, dom!Yunho, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

summary ➛ Moving away from your hometown to escape your collage stalker, you start a new life, exploring the new feeling of being a free woman in the city. However, after a messy situation at the club you are back to where you were years ago, unable to escape him.

"No law will be able to take me away from you"

-

“This is good for me jen” you yell out from the other room so your friend can still hear you through facetime as you bring two pairs of earrings to your face to see which pair would match better with your fit. 

“Yeah yeah I know and I’m glad you’re trying out new experiences but try not to jump into things so quickly yeah? City life is very different from here Y/N, especially when it comes to partying.”

City life was a drastic change from your hometown. You went from knowing everyone from your street and practically growing up with your neighbours and their kids to now rushing down the bustling loud streets of everyone minding their own business. You admit it was an overwhelming change, especially since you’ve never been much of a people-person. Large crowds of people were never you thing. However, after graduating from college, you wanted a change. To experience something new other than being a people-pleasing goody two shoes and to finally start doing things for yourself and connecting with your needs. 

Or at least that was what you told people when they’d ask you why you decided to switch to city life. The dark truth was you needed to escape him. Him and his tall figure that shadowed behind you. His chocolaty soft hair that complimented his milky skin. Those eyes that looked so pure but you knew so well they weren't.

Jeong Yunho.

The man who was so obsessed with breaking you. 

“I’m going to be in safe hands jen. David and alexa are really nice” you said with a smile posing for her in front of the camera “how do I look?”  

“Drop dead gorgeous babe let me know how many guys drool over you” you giggled at her response. You were wearing a black spaghetti strap silk dress that hugged your body frame perfectly. Your hair was curled and your makeup wasn’t too heavy but complemented your facial features. You didn’t have much experience with clubbing but David and Alexa took you to a few bars with a similar atmosphere to a club, it was their way of slowly introducing you to club life. You met Alexa at the coffee shop she works at that happens to be by your house. You went there regularly for breakfast and that's how you two started talking. Shortly after she introduced you to David, they’ve been friends since middle school.  

For your first time clubbing, you were actually having a lot of fun. You thought you’d feel overwhelmed as the flashing lights and loud music first made you feel slightly anxious when you first stepped in the club. However, just as David told you, after a few shots, you let loose- enough to get you on the dance floor. 

You 3 years ago would have found dancing at the club cringe. You never understood the fun of jumping around sweaty crowds with loud music. You would have rather listened to your music through your headphones on the bus home- maybe even imagining a little scenario in your head matching the type of song you were listening to. But the adrenaline you felt as the loud music vibrated through you, making you feel it shaking your heart, the crowd yelling an “o” as the beat was about to drop and most importantly, Davids really bad dancing- it was the most fun you have had in a while. 

However the night didn’t last too long. It was only 11pm, which to you would have been way past your curfew, however you were made sure that 1am is “demon time” as Alexa told you many times before coming to this club how she wouldn’t allow you to leave any earlier than 3am. People were advising one another to leave the club as apparently police came in and found illegal substances that someone sneaked in.

“Y/N follow me I know a back door we can go out from” Alexa said raising her voice a little since the music was still loud. 

“What about David?” by the time whispers were set out David had left in a rush. “He’s going to get some other people, don’t worry about him, he'll text us when he’s out” she said, now leading the way to the back door.

But as you were trying to keep up with her, people kept getting in your way, causing you to lose her in the blink of an eye. You tried to keep pushing forward in hopes of reaching a wall and finding a door, or any door to get into so you can quietly pull out your phone to text Alexa as you were scared you’d end up losing your phone in the crowd too. However, you felt a hand grasp your wrist and when you turned around your heart sank.

Jeong Yunho.

What was he doing here? Your thought was cut off as you glance down from his face only to see him in police uniform but not just any police uniform. You look at his chest to see a sheriff badge. He was the sheriff? And out of all places… here? You knew instantly this was no coincidence. Stalker Yunho never stopped stalking you. Even after running away. 

“You wanna bring her in Jeong?” a voice sets you out of your thoughts, looking over to see it belonging to a cherry red haired man, shorter than Yunho. He was also wearing a police uniform, must be his partner.

Glancing at his partner then back at you, this time clicking his tongue to the side of his cheek with a slight smirk on his lips, he eyed you up and down, eyes resting on your chest for a few seconds he said “Yeah, this one is mine.” 

They shared a few other words but you didn’t pay attention. Your eyes were glued on Yunho, you were sure you looked dumb right now with your mouth open and probably lost colour from your face but what the hell. You couldn’t believe he still managed to follow you after your big move that felt so right.

You were mad. You wanted to rip that smug look on his face off. But as always, you also felt small. Especially with his hand still grasping your wrist. Your body didn’t react to move it away. You felt a slight heat sensation running down your core. This is the effect Jeong Yunho had on you. 

“Have a good one sheriff!” his partner says. Anxiety flushes through your chest as you realise this is his time he’s going to finally have you to himself. Again. Like always. 

Pushing you through the crowd, you realise his hand never left yours. His grip on you was actually soft and gentle. Gentle enough for you to easily break free from his grasp. But he knew you wouldn’t. Which is why he confidently held you with that grip. As he’s pushing through the crowd, his back is facing you and you take in his figure. He has definitely grown, not only in height but also in his physique. His shoulders seem bigger and broader. You can deny he looks damn good in his uniform too. 

You’re now in his car. Words have not been exchanged yet. Until he breaks the silence with a chuckle. You nervously look at him, confused as to what could be so funny right now while you’re sitting over here about to piss your pants in fear.

“You’ve seemed to adjust well here Y/N” god hearing him say your name sends shivers down your spine every time. The way your name falls out of his mouth almost feels as if he’s cursing you with a spell.

“Good choice with those earrings, the others seemed too tacky” he leans into your ear and whispers. You freeze. 

What.

“You know where I live?” your voice sounded weaker than how you wanted it to come out, cursing in your head knowing he’s probably getting excited from that.

He lets out a laugh. “Oh Y/N, you’ve known me for all those years yet you’re surprised. I will say though, I was a bit hurt since you didn’t tell me about our move.”

“You mean my move”

“Our baby, you’re still mine” suddenly he speeds up his car causing you to jolt back in your seat. “And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon” he snakes his hand on your thigh.

“You’re sick. You need help Yunho, you’re a psychopath” you have no power in this situation.

“And yet you’re in the sick psychopaths car” he looks at you and you move your head away. You move your head away because you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that he’s right. It has always been like this. Yunho has never been rough with you, forced you to do anything. At the end of the day it’s you who accepts him. Who melts in his hands.

You’re now pressed up onto the wall of his apartment. His hands are on each side of your head and he’s staring straight down at you. As if you were his prey. Eyes filled with hunger.

“Let go of me” you try pushing him off

“Let go of you? You’re the one who’s touching me baby” he chuckles out slowly leaning in closer. Your eyes avoid his and you feel the heat rushing through your cheeks. He’s right again.

“Why do you do this? For god sake you’re a cop- a sheriff even. You should know this is wrong” you’re now aware about the fact that you indeed were the one touching him, keeping your hands to your sides, he surely noticed that because he's now dangerously leaned down close to your face, nose grazing yours.

“No law will be able to take me away from you. I’ve made it very clear that you are mine” his lips are now brushing against yours.

Your lips naturally part and you’re now eager for a touch. A kiss. Anything. 

“You really want this to end? Even though you’ve came on my hands and face? You’ve yelled out my name with such lust, should we tell that to the judge once you take me to court? Are you gonna visit me in jail and have me fuck you through my cell?”

His fingers are now trailing over your body. Starting from your hands, going all the way up to your arms, he caresses a line across your collarbone and circles down to your boobs, one hand stopping to pinch a nipple and the other hand sliding straight under your dress instantly feeling your wetness. 

“Does it excite you? Fucking you through my cell?” he breathes onto your lips.

“Yunho…” you breathe out, a hand sliding on the back of his neck while the other tangles in his hair slightly pulling him more down “please kiss me”

Without another word his lips crash onto yours. Hungry, needy, rough as if he’s been waiting to do it for ages.

You whine at the loss of touch as he moves away from you for a second before swiftly lifts you up and takes you to his room.

Clothes were off in a matter of seconds. Or should you say ripped off. “Yunho!” you shriek when you hear your panties and dress rip and glance at them on the floor.

“I’ll buy you other ones” he lays you down on the bed connecting your lips once more “although you won’t be needing them around me” he chuckles out before sucking a harsh hickey on your neck, causing you to moan. You feel his smile on your neck as you start unbuttoning his shirt. You let out a frustrated huff struggling at removing his gun belt and pants so he helped you remove them.

“Look at you so eager to rip off my clothes. You were demanding me to let go of you minutes ago” he teases as he wiggled out of his briefs, now exposing his hard on, gulping at the idea of it fitting. You’ve done this many times but it’s been so long you almost forgot the sting of pain you’d feel at the beginning.

Sitting up he grabs his cock in his hands. You think he’s about to slide in but instead you feel him sliding his tip between your folds, causing you to grip on the bedsheets and let out a loud whimper. He slides his tip up and down your folds before ribbing circles around your clit with it, both of you shuddering at the sensation. 

“You wanna run away from me Y/N? Hm?” he now leans close to you supporting his weight with both hands by the sides of your head. “Let’s see how fast you run from me.” he says before you feel him slowly entering you.

“One…”

“Two…” he pushes deeper

“Three..” deeper

“Four…” even deeper

“Five” what is he counting

“Six….” oh my god hes counting how many inches hes putting inside you

“Yunho please” you whimper out grabbing his ass and pushing him into you deeper earning a loud grunt from him. He slams into you and starts thrusting.

“Y'know I was gonna play nice guy with you today… even though you left me like that… wanted to make you come back to me.. ah… but that fucking dress didn’t help fuck” he now grabs your hips keeping you in place as you were squirming around.

“Ah Yunho please d-don’t st-ah op” he’s practically drilling into you now and you roll your eyes back. 

“I won’t stop… I never will ah when will you accept me Y/N accept that you’re mine, even your pussy knows this by the way you’re sucking my cock right now god so tight” 

“Mine all fucking mine” he’s whispering in your ear over the sounds of your skin slapping and squelching echoing in the room.

Although his thrusts are rough and hard, there’s a hint of passion in them, your bodies are so close together, skin rubbing against each other, almost as if he’s trying to merge your bodies together.

“Yunho I’m gonna-” you don’t finish your sentence before you feel the familiar feeling on heat rush out of you and soon later you feel his trusts get sloppy before he fills you up still chanting “mine” in your ear. 

You spend a minute there, catching your breaths before you reach your hand out to his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. Your body wants him. Seeing him on top of you right now, his eyes sparkling at you. You are reminded of why although you ran away from him, you always accept him.     

“You’re not going anywhere” kiss

“You can’t run away from me” kiss

"I’ll make you fall in love with me” kiss

“and its gonna happen tonight” thrust.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 4

Summary: “Y/N and Harry both attend Sophie’s party, and it doesn’t exactly pan out how Y/N thought it would.”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: physical violence, verbal threats, angst, mention of SA, fluff, jealousy.

A/N: tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACCCKKK!!!! Hi guys, thank you for being so patient. I was literally unable to write for weeks and they were the worst weeks of my life, but I’m finally doing better and my creative juices are flowing! Pray with me that it’ll last🙏

Also THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD sorry I was just too excited to get this out🤭😋

P.S. I recommend you listen to ‘Ice Cream Man’ by RAYE. Not only does it apply to the sorry (warning: SA) but RAYE is also an incredible artist!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N had never observed herself in the mirror for this long. She was certain that at one point she was going to start to look disfigured to herself, but she just needed to make sure that everything was right.

During her childhood, and especially her adolescent years, Y/N had always been told not to be too vain, but to always look good. There were contradictory balances that she's had to sit in the middle of for as long as she could remember, and she was good at it, until tonight.

For some reason, this burgundy dress she was wearing had to be matched perfectly with her shoes, bag and make-up, and right now she was absolutely sure that it didn't.

Instead of throwing her blow dryer at the mirror like she wanted to, Y/N took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping her mind would occupy her with a distraction good enough to give a refreshed perspective when she'd open her eyes again. Of course it was him that flashed through her mind the second her eyelids fluttered shut. She should not have been surprised, because wasn't that what this was all about?

Y/N hadn't been able to stop thinking about Harry since... well, actually she couldn't exactly remember since when because that's how long he's been floating around her head for. Seeing him multiple times a week wasn't helping much either, it gave her new material to think about whenever she had a second to spare. It was like a disease, spreading through her entire body, except she didn't mind and the symptoms made her feel more alive than ever.

Just the sole touch of fingers on her waist, or shoulders was worth replaying a million times in her head, as were all the times he'd say something that could even remotely be said in another, less appropriate context. Y/N felt like she had to visit a confessional or something, because it was getting out of hand. But she knew this wasn't bad, and the only thing she was doing by fighting this was stopping herself from getting something she—deep down—felt she didn't deserve.

Despite these pitiful revelations, Y/N still found herself nitpicking at every single aspect of her appearance as she got ready for Sophie's birthday party.

With only five minutes on the clock until her Uber driver would be outside, Y/N decided to accept the black heels she'd put on and the small shoulder bag she'd settled on. A final look in the mirror indeed gave her an epiphany: brown lip liner.

After darkening her lips with the pencil, at last it felt like everything had fallen into place— with the exception of the nerves dwarreling around her lower stomach of course. Even as she sat in the Uber with the nice woman who was talking about her kids as she drove her to the party didn't do one thing to take her mind off the excitement she was feeling.

Y/N tipped her driver before she got out of the car and made her way inside, where she was greeted by an elated—and perhaps already slightly intoxicated—Sophie. The long, dark green dress she wore complimented the blonde shade of her hair, and her make-up was out of this world. Y/N made sure to note that when she congratulated her friend.

It only took five seconds of scanning the room before she spotted him, standing by the bar as he—Y/N could only assume—waited to be served his drink. It felt much like being a magnet to a whiteboard, the way she was so drawn to him. Y/N knew she should've considered herself lucky that another couple came into greeting Sophie, because otherwise she wouldn't have been let off the hook so easily, but that gratefulness was far down on the list of things that took up her thoughts as she made her way to the man at the bar. And when he turned around, she may as well have punched herself then and there, because Harry looked breathtaking.

He always did, of course, but seeing him in a dark grey suit with a soft pink dress shirt, his hair pushed back and all clean shaven... it did something to her.

From the looks of it, Y/N took the guess that her appearance also threw Harry off in some kind of way, since the stutter in his greeting was too apparent to ignore.

"H— hi." He said, mouth slightly agape as his widened eyes took in Y/N. "You look beautiful."

She could have sworn her intestines were being swapped all around inside her because those nerves in her stomach tripled in size as she eyed the floor for a second while heat rose to her cheeks. Y/N had never been good at receiving compliments, mostly because she had been taught that not immediately accepting them was the only way to be worthy of them. Besides, it would make her conceited and rude to just agree.

And yet, all those rules on how to behave flew out the window the second those green eyes were on her, and she didn't care that she jeopardized her worthiness. She just wanted to soak in the words he deliberately told her, and feel good about them. So she didn't argue him on anything, and instead responded:

"Thank you. You clean up good yourself."

The lopsided smirk on Harry's face made Y/N want to jump up and down, for no other reason than that the sight of it just made her really happy. And for a moment she wondered if it couldn't just stay like this forever? Pure, sincere, and not strong enough to be soul crushingly destroyed by anyone, including her own self sabotaging tendencies.

"Oh, this old thing? Just threw it on." Harry shrugged, his eyes fixated on Y/N. She laughed at his ridiculous attempt to be cool. He leaned against the bar, his head tilting a bit. "What are you having?"

His head nodded towards the bar, and Y/N took it as an invitation to get closer to Harry. She stood next to him, just a little closer than necessary, as she hummed and thought about the hundreds of drinks she could possibly order, and totally didn't settle on the same one she always gets.

"I think I'm going to get a cosmopolitan." She answered, and surprised her smile as much as she could as she watched Harry flag down the waiter and order the drink for her. She quite liked this gentleman-like treatment.

"Very fitting, angel." He said lowly as the waiter put down the drink in front of her.

Y/N turned her head to him, a raised brow challenging him slightly. "And why is that?"

Harry moved to lean his entire back against the bar instead of just one side, and shrugged his shoulders as he observed the room before locking his eyes onto her again.

"Because you're just as sweet as that cocktail." The grin that his comment was accompanied by would have been enough to make Y/N's knees buckle right then and there, but the fact that she was holding onto a bar helped a great deal.

The sight of Oscar talking to some other colleagues of hers also helped with that. She could quite literally feel the color drain from her face as she took him in.

It wasn't like it was unexpected; she knew there was a big chance he'd be there. But between Harry, the amount of work she had to do, and all of her self-defense training, she hadn't had much time to think about hypothetical confrontations with Oscar.

"Are you okay?" Harry's gaze darted from the direction in which you were staring back to Y/N. Only when her eyes settled on him again, a part of the worry in his eyes slightly faded. She mustered a smile, nodding her head and hoping it would be enough to convince him. From the look on his face she knew that he wasn't convinced in even the slightest, but she was surprised to hear him switch the topic of the conversation.

"I want you to meet Greg." He said, and Y/N hummed in agreement, grabbing her glasses and following as Harry lead them to her colleague's boyfriend.

"I've already met Greg." She noted, still walking closely next to Harry, whose hand was ghosting over the small of her back.

"Yeah, but I want you to meet him as my best friend."

Y/N was sure that whatever was rattling in her stomach was doing cartwheels as she took in the determination on Harry's face. It didn't seem like he was shying away from what he was implying, and yet she wasn't certain. Because what if he didn't mean it like that at all? Y/N needed to be 100% sure that her suspicions were correct, because the weight of the humiliation that hung over the risk she could take was too great to bear. Besides, she didn't want to jeopardize the self-defense classes. It was a place of safety for her now, she couldn't lose it.

She didn't have much time to dwell on it given that she found herself in front of Greg. Quickly shoving her thoughts away, she conjured a smile and gave the man in front of her a hug.

"How have you been?" Greg asked, grinning widely as he waited on an answer. "Heard you've been taking self-defense classes."

The way he eyed his friend, and the manner in which Harry's eyes glared at Greg, caused a wave of of giddiness to flood over her. This had to mean something, right? Or was she just fishing now?

"Uh, yes, I have. It has helped me a lot." She  answered with rosy cheeks. Greg nodded his head.

"That's great, Y/N. I mean, Harold here is a great teacher, isn't he?"

She snickered, turning to Harry. "That's your full name?"

"No, Greg just likes to be an asshole from time to time." The agonizing smile on his face told her that Harry was a bit on edge, nervous almost? Y/N focused on Greg again.

"Yes, he's amazing." She said, and could feel the blood rush to her ears as she took in her own words. Instead of throwing out a bunch of excuses and rectifications on the construction of her sentence, she zipped her mouth shut, and let the compliment hang in the air. Her heart was racing, and she didn't dare look Harry in the eye, but from the small glance that Greg threw his way, she knew that he'd had some sort of reaction to the compliment.

"Well, stick around and soon you'll be strong enough to take out any man. My Sophie could knock me the fuck out of she needed to, and I'm glad she can." Greg beamed as he mentioned his girlfriend. Y/N was filled with a warm feeling in her chest as she observed Sophie's boyfriend. Her friend was a boss of a woman and to know she was getting the love she deserved was most heartwarming.

The moment was cut short, though, when another person entered the conversation. 

"Harry Styles?!" A joyous shriek—for lack of a more polite word—came from a short blonde woman to Y/N's left. The woman didn't pay any mind to Greg nor her as she headed for Harry, giving him a long, very very long hug. Y/N swallowed.

"Lindsay, I haven't seen you in ages." Harry's voice was kind, he sounded excited even. Maybe it was an old friend, or classmate, or—

"That's because the last time you saw me you broke my heart, hon." She giggled. Harry's brows raised ever so slightly.

An old girlfriend. Right, Y/N should've known that. That just made this entire situation a whole lot more awkward, and if there was one thing Y/N didn't care for it was unpleasantries like these.

So, she decided to do the one thing she was best at: escape. Downing her drink in one go, she wiggled her glass, catching Harry's attention.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink, see you later." Y/N's smile was sweet and full of sincerity, but her legs were heavy as she made her way to the bathroom, as if carrying an invisible ball and chain around each leg. She didn't want to be away from Harry, she wanted to snarl at that ex-girlfriend of his and tell her to back off.

But it was irrational and petty, and not to mention totally inappropriate, so she distanced herself instead. Y/N felt a headache looming, her body fighting her mind for the cowardly attitude it encouraged. She spent way longer in the bathroom than she needed to, eventually only going back after a minute long silent peptalk that she performed to herself in the mirror.

When she returned to the room she saw Harry still talking to his ex, only Greg had now left them and was dancing with Sophie and some others. Y/N thought over her options, and decided to join her friend.

She tried her hardest not to look for Harry in the crowded room, letting the music capture all of her attention. Sophie and Greg were performing all kinds of dance moves that had Y/N throw her head back in laughter, and in that moment everything felt so good.

Simple and good, that was joy. She hadn’t felt that in a long time.

After countless of songs and dance battles on the lit up floor, Y/N decided to take a break and treat herself to another drink. Sauntering over to the bar, she waited her turn order another cosmopolitan, and took a step to the side to let other people order as well.

Y/N was still looking at her fidgeting hands, lost in deep thought, when a familiar scent roamed through her nostrils and stiffened her entire body.

"A Long Island ice tea, please." Oscar's voice sounded from beside her. Y/N didn't dare to look up and stayed focused on her hands instead. She could see his hands from the corner of her eyes, they were desperately clamping onto the bar, knuckles  white.

Without even touching her, Oscar had managed to put a tightening strain on Y/N's chest that felt too uncomfortable to make her move. She was glad to see her cosmopolitan arrive, and was quick to move to the other side of the bar. In the quick second that she glanced at Oscar, she noticed his eyes were following her.

When he started moving closer to where Y/N was standing, the tenseness in her body began to develop into a full-blown panic, and when a set of hands settled on her waist, she couldn't help the hasty gasp that left her mouth before she turned around.

Harry looked surprised when she met his eyes, and she let out a sigh of relief to see that it was only him. Y/N let out a breathy chuckle as she slowly shook her head.

"Gosh, you scared me." It was noticeable in the strain of her voice that the stress hadn't left her body entirely, and Harry seemed to notice that. He raised a brow.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded eagerly, not wanting to steer the conversation this way. "'M fine. What about you?"

"Frankly, I'm a bit disappointed." Harry admitted, and Y/N frowned at the confession. Her head tilted, she asked:

"Why?"

"You told me I wasn't going to get rid of you so easily the other day." He noted, the memory of your conversation brought a smile to your face. "And yet I lost you after about ten minutes."

Y/N chuckled. "I was giving you some space. I didn't want to be rude."

"Angel... in any case, when it comes to Lindsay Holloway, please be rude." The sincerity in Harry's voice made her burst out into giggle.

"I take it you weren't planning on rekindling old flames then." Y/N said, and when Harry confirmed it with a firm nod, she grimaced. "And here I thought I was being a good sport, leaving you alone with her."

"Trust me, angel. She is not the woman I would like be alone with." He leaned forward, his face way too close to Y/N for her to function normally because of it. The overwhelming urge to just— kiss him was almost too great to resist. The way his eyes took her in was so exhilarating, and it didn't make her insecure because she didn't need wonder what he was thinking; it was written all over his face.

"Oh." Was the only sound that Y/N could utter as she processed Harry's words. His eyes flicked from hers to her mouth as he softly pushed her back against the bar, grinning at how her doe-like eyes were observing his every move.

"Aren't you going to ask me who I would like to be alone with?" Harry asked, and it was clear that he was taunting her. But it didn't occur to Y/N to mind, as she immediately obeyed him.

"Who would you like to be alone with, Harry?" She posed the question, watching his jaw clench at his name falling from her lips.

"Y/N!"

Both Y/N and Harry's head whipped to the side where Sophie was standing with a slightly distressed look on her face. Almost out of instinct, it seemed, Harry took a step back. A pang boomed through Y/N's chest.

"I need to talk to you, now." She demanded, not even a hint of a questioning tone in her voice. She meant business. Y/N nodded and slid past Harry, grabbing Sophie's hand and letting her friend lead the both of them outside.

There were some other people outside, smoking cigarettes as they chatted with each other. Every person stopped to greet Sophie with a smile or another 'congratulations' as they walked more towards the alley, where there were less people. Y/N's heart was racing from both the encounter with Harry and the nervousness that had built up thinking of the possible ways that this talk with Sophie could go.

She hadn't expected Sophie to start squealing in excitement, but it was better than anything she could've imagined.

"Oh my god! You and Harry?! For how long has this been going on?" She asked, and Y/N swiftly shook her head.

"There is nothing going on." She replied, the monotony in her voice doing little to hide the frustrations about the truth of that sentence. "I mean, there might have been a start of something going on before we went outside."

Sophie winced. "I'm sorry, I cockblocked you. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you don't seem like someone who is into casual hook-ups."

Y/N's face twisted in discomfort, and Sophie panicked at the sight of it.

"Not that Harry only does hook-ups! I didn't mean it like that. I just— I hadn't heard you mention him before and I didn't realize you were so close until last week." She instantly began to rant, and Y/N grew defense from her words.

"He offered me some extra training to build more muscle." She shrugged.

“Hmm, sure he is.” Sophie hummed playfully, wiggling her eyebrows and causing a snort to fall from Y/N’s lips. It took a few moments to control their schoolgirl-like giggles, but when they’d managed to pipe down, Sophie’s face turned a bit more serious.

“I just wanted to assure you that Harry is a good guy. You can trust him, you don’t have to hold yourself back.” Her eyes were soft as Sophie spoke, both her hands wrapped around Y/N’s right one. There was a stinging sensation in Y/N’s chest at the mention of the tendencies she thought she concealed quite well, but she was far from offended by it. On the contrary; she was relieved that Sophie could see right through her regarding this topic, because without this confirmation, Y/N would’ve doubted this situation for too long, probably causing Harry to grow bored and leave.

“Soph, we’ve been looking all over for you! We need to do the Photo Booth!” Stacy, another lawyer from the firm suddenly appeared and interrupted the conversation, shrieking in excitement as she hurried over to Sophie and grabbed her arm. She barely paid any mind to Y/N, at least not until Sophie gave her a guilty glance. Stacy conjured a confused smile of her own, her mind clearly battling about the fact that she seemed to recognize Y/N, only she had no idea where from.

“I’m going to borrow her for a little while.” She said, and it was only now that Y/N realized how nasal this Stacy sounded. Sophie had complained about it a dozen times, and now she finally understood the issue.

“Go ahead, have fun, I’ll find you later Soph.” Y/N said, smiling as she watched Stacy and Sophie walk back inside. She took the moment alone outside as an opportunity to clear her mind. To assure herself, that she had the confirmation that Harry liked her as well, and to just take the leap.

“Cigarette?”

Y/N’s head snapped towards Oscar, who was standing only standing a few feet away from her. She glanced at the other people smoking outside; at least she wasn’t alone. She turned her attention back to Oscar, and shook her head.

It stayed silent between the two, and since Y/N didn’t want anything to do with Oscar, she slowly started to walk away. But then, a sentence left Oscar’s mouth that had her frozen where she stood.

“Are you going to accuse him of assaulting you too?”

Y/N lost her breath. Did he really just say that? She pressed down the immense wave of nausea that threatened her to puke all over her pretty dress, and focused on her breathing before she turned around to face him.

“What did you just say to me?” Her tone was sharp, laced with a feeling of injustice. She tried to steady herself as much as she could, but she could feel her hands trembling from the adrenaline.

“I should probably warn him. Who knows what you’ll do to his life.” He sneered, his tone smothered in resentment. Y/N hadn’t even told anyone about what Oscar had done to her, and here he was, accusing her of ruining people’s lives.

“You need to leave me alone…” She growled, balling up her fists to channel her frustration into anything else than the wall or his face.

“Or what? You’re going to tell on me? Seriously, you don’t think that two men with a stellar reputation would make for a more believable story than a self-pitying gold digger?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“What? Mad I’m right? You do only target successful men right, don’t you?” He asked. The amusement in his eyes was disgusting and it made Y/N take a step back. She was seething with rage over Oscar’s words.

“Stay the hell away from me, Oscar.” Y/N fumed, turning around to walk inside, and when she felt a hand around her wrist, she couldn’t help the instinct that caused her to plant her fist in Oscar’s face. Just the way she had been taught.

It was with way more force than she’d ever managed to do before, and she was pretty sure she heard something crack—although she couldn’t make out whether that was Oscar’s nose or his knees as he fell to the ground.

It was like she could finally breathe, seeing him lay on the floor, groaning in pain. She’d been strong enough to defend herself from danger. Pride filled her chest, although it was vague in comparison to the rage that had overtaken the rest of her body.

Y/N flinched when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, but calmed down at the sight of Lindsay, Harry’s old girlfriend, standing beside her. She looked quite worried as Y/N let her guide her to the rest of the people who were still smoking outside. They all began to ask variations of the same questions: ‘are you okay?’ ‘Did he hurt you?’. Y/N frowned upon noticing Lindsay hurry back inside, but she didn’t pay much mind to it anymore when the guy next to her offered a cigarette. She shook her head, a bit taken aback by the timing of the action, and was just about to answer the question of the woman in front of her, when the huddled up group opened up and Harry appeared in front of her.

Crouching down, his eyes roamed over her entire body before settling on her knuckles that had already begun to turn red. His gaze met Y/N’s.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

It only then occurred to Y/N that Oscar was probably still laying there, and the quick glance she shot to her left was enough for Harry to know what was going on. He stood up and walked over to Oscar, who had gotten up himself and met him in the middle.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Harry asked. His voice was stone cold, everything about him was, actually. Not one hint of emotion could be traced in his tone, posture or really anything else. It would’ve been scary, had Y/N had the ability to feel scared of Harry. But she just couldn’t; he made her feel safe.

“Listen man, you need to avoid that girl. She’s fucking crazy. She already tried to ruin my life, don’t let her threaten you to ruin yours.”

All the pent up anger that had seemed to subside slightly once having socked Oscar in the face raced back all at once as the words registered in Y/N’s brain. But before she could get back up to her feet, Harry struck a punch, bringing Oscar to the ground once again.

Leaning forward, he grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up far enough so he could hear him when he said:

“If I ever hear you talking about her like that— better yet, if you come near her again I swear to god I’ll kick out every last one of your teeth… to start with.” Harry warned before letting go of Oscar’s collar with a shove that made a couple of people take a physical step back, and even made one person behind her gasp. Harry didn’t seem to care about any of that as he turned around; he just headed straight for Y/N.

Nor did he didn’t even so much as acknowledge Lindsay, who thanked him, but Y/N made sure to send a grateful smile her way as Harry wrapped his arm around her and led her inside. He didn’t say a word as they entered the room again and walked towards Sophie and Greg.

At first, Sophie was smiling at the sight of Y/N and Harry, but upon spotting her friend’s pale face, the corners of her mouth lowered into a thin line.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Her hands were on Y/N immediately, fixing her hair and brushing her fingers against her pale cheek. Y/N knew that she probably looked like she had seen a ghost.

“I’m going to take her home.” Harry announced, and relief washed over Y/N because she didn’t really know what to say right now. Faking a smile, she tried to assure Sophie that it was alright, but her friend was already nodding before Harry had finished speaking.

Throwing her arms around her, Sophie hugged Y/N so tightly that she nearly lost her breath. When she finally let go, the look on her face was determined.

“I love you, have a good night. If you need anything, call me.” She said. Y/N nodded.

“I love you, have a great night.” She turned to Greg. “Watch her.”

The weak joke still managed to make the couple chuckle—probably out of pity—and Greg nodded dutifully, wishing her a good night with that playful wink of his. When Y/N turned back to Harry, he held out her jacket. Her face settled into a confused frown; how did he manage to get their coats so quickly. Was he a wizard or something?

Harry bid the couple farewell as well and soon they were on their way back to the car. Y/N was tense about going outside again, but her shoulders relaxed upon seeing an empty street. Oscar had left, thank god.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from a few questions about the AC, and an attempt of Harry’s to casually ask for her address again, only to have it at the top of his search list on Google Maps. Y/N had to hold back her giggle.

The rest of it consisted of listening and moving their heads along to whatever song was on. It was mainly rap songs, and Harry knew them all, which was logical considering it was his playlist. There was something attractive about Harry knowing all these songs, it made him look a bit more… intimidating.

Y/N really needed to figure out what deep rooted issue caused her to like that.

She had to admit she was slightly disappointed when he pulled up in front of her apartment complex, so she took her time to turn her head to him, the hint of a smile on her face still. Y/N couldn’t help it; he just made her comfortable. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned towards the middle of the vehicle, closer to Harry.

“Thank you, for dropping me off.” She said in a near whisper. The corners of Harry’s mouth tugged up, and he—in turn—closed the distance between even more, their faces only a few inches apart now. Y/N’s hands began to sweat.

“Anything for you, angel.” His voice was raspy, and despite the cockiness he radiated, there was still concern behind it.

But it was over— for Y/N it was over. Her self-control, an entity of its own, seemed to exit her body leaving her with nothing but him. All that adrenaline had channeled into a pressing urge to put her lips on his, to touch him, feel him all around. It was over.

Nothing held her back, not even her own stubborn mind, as she leaped forward and kissed Harry.

While she had expected him to maybe be surprised about her action, the way his mouth welcomed her—invited her, even—was enough proof that he had been ready for her.

Kissing Harry was like jumping off a cliff and diving deeper into the ocean. For once, she didn’t feel like to love was to drown. No, she submerged herself into the water and felt more at home than she had ever felt at the surface. Was it possible to feel at home in someone’s arms?

With a hand on her jaw, Harry lured Y/N forward further, challenging her by pulling back a bit. Needing his lips like it was her own source of oxygen, Y/N didn’t hesitate to lean further, and in all her desperation, climbed right onto his lap.

The short dress didn’t leave much restrictions for her heat as she automatically began to grind her hips. Only when Harry let out a pained groan that shot straight to her core, she’d realized what she was doing— what they were doing.

Pulling away in a flash, a gasp left Y/N. Her lips felt all puffy, much like Harry’s looked.

“S— sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.” Y/N shot in her defensive mode, but Harry only shook his head.

“Don’t say sorry, angel. I—” he cut himself off, and met her eyes. “I don’t think we should do this right now, because—”

Shit, no, shit, shit!

“Oh, yeah, no of course, no problem. I mean, you’re right.” Y/N began to rant, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How could she ever do such a stupid thing. She was quick to lean over and grab her bag. “But thank you, for bringing me home, and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Before Harry could even get a word in, she opened the door on the driver’s seat and climbed out of the car, smashing the door shut harsher than she intended to. She winced at the sound, but kept walking. This rejection was humiliating enough as it was, she didn’t need Harry to elaborate on all the reasons he didn’t want her.

She heard the car door open, but by then, Y/N had already entered her building. In the chaos of it all, she decided to sprint up the stairs, wanting to get away from the situation as fast as possible, and in that process forgetting that she lived on the sixth floor.

She was out of breath when she finally reached her apartment, but not as out of breath as she would have been a month ago. Damn Harry, those classes were really working.

Once inside, Y/N leaned against the door, dramatically letting herself slip to the ground as she buried her head in her arms and let out a frustrated groan. Why was every next step she took on the aspect of love always destined to be her most embarrassing one yet?

She huffed, massaging her temples as she soaked in the shame and slowly felt it wither away. She knew the mortification would wane, but the sudden awareness of that ache between her legs, she knew that wouldn’t just go away. With a sigh, Y/N hoisted herself up and got ready for bed before lying down and digging into her nightstand’s drawer to grab the only thing that could cure the ache down there.

Her racing mind was a reminder that getting this out of her system wasn’t going to be done very easily…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @kierramcduffie

[talesof-old]

breaking | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x gn!reader

warning(s): angst, breakups, leaving long term relationships, implied unfaithfulness (james doesn’t actually cheat), other woman lily evans, reader deserves better, idk this isn’t proofread or edited, they could never make me hate you lily

word count: 1.2k

a/n: sorry this took me so long, i’ve been teaching myself to crochet and i’m also trying to leave my current job

masterlist

james potter + relationship breakup + no happy ending

It used to be easy, saying James Potter was the best boyfriend you’d ever had.

He’d gone out of his way to shower you in affection and prove himself a capable partner. He’d remembered every important date, what your favorite things were, and why you hated the things you hated. James had been perfect.

You leaned back in your chair. Pieces of parchment littered the desktop, ink staining the expensive wood. You’d given up on caring. A glance at the clock on the wall gave you the time.

22:15.

You huffed. Date night, James had said, like that would fix whatever this was.

This, really, was a wedge driven in unknowingly by one Miss Lily Evans. You couldn’t blame her, really. If you’d asked, she would back away from her friendship with James and be perfectly content. That’s what made it so hard to hate her. She liked you, and would do anything to maintain your friendship.

Instead, like a fool, you’d believed James when he said he’d be home early to have dinner with you. After an hour had passed you’d changed out of your nice clothes and into a pair of pajamas, choosing to work to pass the time. About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door open.

In shuffled a weary James, glasses askew and hair messy. Your heart clenched. Here stood the boy (now man) you’d given your heart to years ago. Here he was, breaking it.

“Hey.” Your voice filled the dimly light room, echoing in the bare corners like some evil spirit.

He looked up at you, eyes blinking owlishly as he tugged off his shoes. It took just a second for the image of you to register. His lips twisted into a guilty grimace, though you weren’t sure he was genuinely regretful.

As he approached, you were hit with a wave of floral and ink perfume. You sighed. Lily’s perfume, which she’d found sometime during your time at Hogwarts and stuck to, was far from unfamiliar. It suited her beautifully, though currently it clung to your skin like aa unwanted disease.

“I’m sorry, we got caught up at the pub.” You nodded. The boys night Sirius had proposed. To forget everything going on for one night. Perhaps you should’ve told James just to stay at your friends’ flat tonight instead.

“We had plans.” Your voice wavered, the telltale sign of tears burning your throat. James nodded solemnly. He made to reach for you, but seemed to second guess himself as you shied away.

“I’m sorry, honey, but Pads wanted to stay-“

“Okay.” The finality in your tone had him pausing, brow furrowed. You moved then, gathering up your papers as tears pricked at your eyes. The rational part of you knew that you needed to speak up about your feelings in order to make a change, but you also didn’t feel like you should have to. James made plans with you, his partner; surely that was just as important?

“I’m going to bed.”

Defeat swirled in your gut. Tomorrow, you’d call Mary. If she couldn’t give you advice, she’d at least help you pack up your things.

“Honey, please.” Something desperate filled his tone. You clicked your tongue to distract yourself from the heaviness in your chest. James stepped forward.

“I just lost track of time, promise. I’ll make it up to you.” You shook your head. This was the make up. This was the second chance. Not a single bone in your body wanted to give him a third. It wasn’t fair to expect you to continue to shatter your heart just for him. You cared more about yourself than that to let it continue.

“You already made a promise like that James, don’t lie to me.” Irritation flashed across his face.

“I’m not lying.” You huffed, clutching your papers in your hands. You’d leave the ink. He’d probably need it more than you.

“Merlin, You told me that the last time, James. What else am I supposed to believe?” He ran a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t understand.”

An incredulous expression took up residence on your face. You blinked furiously as you looked at him.

“What don’t you understand? You come home to me after missing an apology dinner, smelling like another woman. Lily Evans no less.” Venom laced itself through the words as you spoke them. His jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. Muscles tensed as he took in the anger in your eyes. You didn’t often get angry, not like this.

“Lily is my friend, I won’t let you make me feel like shit for spending time with her.” You threw your hands up in the air. The clock down the hallway ticked away, eating at you as you turned away from him.

“I never asked that of you, don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” Tears finally spilled over your cheeks. He scoffed.

“At least look at me.”

You whirled around, eyes glassy and lip trembling. Frustration rose. Here you were, crying over the loss of a relationship that hadn’t even ended yet. You swiped at the tear tracks.

“Why? I can’t do this anymore James. I love you, really, but it isn’t fair for me to have to keep asking you to occasionally put me first.” James wore an expressionless look as you spoke. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, an unsteadying drum to your own heartache.

“I do. I don’t understand where this is coming from.” A forlorn feeling took root in your stomach. He didn’t understand. Maybe you were fooling yourself, thinking you could work through this one. After everything, it was too much to bear.

“Alright.” He furrowed his dark brows.

“I’ll ask Mary if she can swing by tomorrow and help me pack up my things.” He startled, reaching for you once more. A sob caught in your throat as he gripped your shoulders. The soft florals of Lily’s perfume engulfed you.

“What? No, what are you talking about?”

Something undecipherable had leaked into James’ words, panicked and shaky as he searched your face. All he found was resignation. You were giving up. James shook his head, licking his lips and leaning down to stare directly into your teary eyes.

“You’re leaving me?”

You let out a breathy laugh, humorless and cold as it curled around your ears.

“You spend more time with Lily than me these days. I won’t fight for someone who isn’t doing the same.” You watched as his face fell. His lips parted as though to speak, but no words fell from his lips. You knew he couldn’t defend himself from the truth; at the very least, he couldn’t defend himself from this truth.

You spoke again. “I love you.”

You pried yourself from his tense grasp and made your way back to the bedroom, locking yourself in the bathroom for privacy. After tomorrow, you’d no longer be in a relationship. James would no longer be your boyfriend, and peace would have to be made. You shared too many friends for the opposite to be an option. You sighed, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes to keep the tears at bay.

When did it all go wrong?

[yrluvjane]

HI LOVE

so

Can i get a Sirius black x fem reader where maybe something happens that is subtle and she gets uncharacteristically jealous and tries to hide it and sirius catches up and reassures her with a million hugs and kisses?

You were at another one of James and Lily's parties, the kind where everyone you knew and loved gathered in one place to celebrate life. The evening was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Marlene and Alice, when you noticed a strikingly beautiful woman making her way over to Sirius.

She was all smiles and charm, her hand resting on Sirius's arm as she spoke. You knew it was silly, but either way jealousy twisted in your stomach.

Sirius was always friendly, and you trusted him completely. But something about the way this woman leaned in close, her fingers trailing down his arm, made your heart clench uncomfortably.

You tried to shake it off, focusing on your conversation and forcing yourself to laugh at Marlene's jokes. But your eyes kept drifting back to Sirius, watching as the woman continued to monopolize his attention. You felt a tight knot of insecurity forming, a rare feeling for you.

Her dress. Her hair. Her charm.

Sirius' laugh

Finally, unable to take it any longer, you excused yourself from Marlene and Alice and made your way over to Sirius. As you approached, you heard the woman laugh, her hand still resting on his arm. The way you wished to break all her perfectly manicured fingers was terrifying.

"Hi, love," you said loudly, stepping in between them and slipping your arm around Sirius's waist. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Sirius looked surprised but quickly recovered, a smile spreading across his face. "Not at all, darling. This is Liz, an old acquaintance from school, Ravenclaw."

Liz's smile faltered slightly as she looked at you, but she quickly regained her composure. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," you replied, your tone a bit sharper than you intended. "Sirius, I was just thinking we should go find James and Lily. They've been asking about us."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the demand through your eyes. "Sure, love. Liz, it was nice catching up."

But before you could turn to leave, you reached up and pulled Sirius into a deep, passionate kiss, right in front of 'Liz '. He stiffened in surprise for a moment, then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you. You could feel his smile against your lips, his surprise giving way to pleasure.

When you finally pulled back, Sirius was looking at you with a mixture of amusement and amazement. "Wow," he said, his voice low. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought that on?....Ohh, were you jealous? My, oh my."

At your glare, he's hand ran up and down your arm, "She's got nothing on you."

You glanced over at Liz, who was watching with a slightly stunned expression. "Just wanted to make sure everyone knows you're mine," you said, your voice a bit more confident than you felt as you pecked his jaw.

As you rejoined your friends, Sirius couldn’t resist leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, a playful glint in his eyes, “I’m not sure if that one kiss was enough to fully convince.”

You looked up at him, eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what exactly are you suggesting?”

Sirius grinned, that mischievous spark lighting up his expression. “I think you might need to prove your point again. Just to be...thorough.”

Before you could respond, he gently tugged you back into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a deep, lingering kiss. You could feel him smiling against your lips, clearly enjoying every second of it.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were soft but filled with that familiar Sirius Black playfulness. “There. How’s that for a reminder that I'm the only one for you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Alright, alright. We've made our point.”

He grabbed you face with both palms and placed a sloppy kiss on your nose. “Good. But just so you know, I’m always up for proving it again. If you ever feel like these losers need another reminder.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, Sirius was yours, and that was all that mattered.

[yuikomorii]

Ayayui date♡

// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕

I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Ayato: Haa… finally!

After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.

Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!

( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )

( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )

( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )

( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )

( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )

Place: Their room

Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—

( Hah!? She’s not here? )

Oi, Yui!

( She’s still not answering? )

Yui, where are yo—

???: Ayato-kun..!

— hugs his back —

Ayato: What the—!

Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!

Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?

Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…

Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.

Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.

Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?

Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.

— Yui blushes —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!

Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )

C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?

— Yui shakes head —

Ayato: Good, now let’s go!

— He takes her hand —

Place: Kaminashi City

Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.

Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.

Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.

Yui: Ayato-kun…

( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )

I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!

Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )

Then, let’s make the best of this day!

— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.

( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )

( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )

— warm breeze hits —

Yui: Mm… so ni—

— something suddenly hits her —

Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?

Eh? That’s—

Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?

Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )

Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?

Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.

— Yui takes it —

Yui: But, what’s this letter about?

If it’s possible to tell, of course.

Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.

Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!

( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )

( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )

( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )

( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )

( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )

Ayato: Chichinashi!!!

Yui: ….!

— suddenly hides the letter —

A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!

Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.

— He starts pinching her cheeks —

Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!

Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.

Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?

Yui: N-No, not at all!

Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?

Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…

Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.

Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!

* Timeskip *

Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )

( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )

Ayato: Oi Yui, look!

Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!

Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!

Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.

Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!

Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—

Yui: No, no, the donut is good!

— starts eating it —

Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.

Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.

Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.

Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.

I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.

Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——

A-Ah, oh no!

( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )

I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!

— tries to stand up —

Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.

— grabs her and sits her on his lap —

Yui: Wait, don’t!

— he starts licking her hand —

Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!

Ayato: Mnn… Mm…

— slowly bites —

Yui: Uuh…

( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)

— starts moving —

Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!

Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )

( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )

— tries to push him away but falls down —

Yui: Oww…

Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )

Haa… are you hurt?

— grabs her arm and picks her up —

Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.

Ayato: Oi.

What’s that?

— picks something up —

Yui: ….!

Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?

— starts reading it —

You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!

Yui: I… I can explain!

You see, I thought—

Ayato: Shut up!

Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?

Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?

You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!

I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?

I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!

Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—

Ayato: Don’t touch me!

Yui: …!

Please, listen to me!

— grabs his clothes —

Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!

— pushes her away and leaves —

Yui: …!

No… No… this can’t be the end…

How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…

Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…

Place: Avenue

Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )

( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )

( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )

( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )

( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )

Tch, such bullsh— Hah?

Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!

Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?

???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!

Ayato: …!

( That voice… Yui! )

Place: Alley

Yui: I-I told you to stop!

Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.

Yui: No, I don’t want to!

Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——

— gets punched —

Guy 1: What the—

Guy 2: Such strength!

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!

— they start running away —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!

( He came back for me… )

Ayato: ….

— grabs her hand and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )

( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )

( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )

Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.

Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )

No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.

However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.

Ayato: You…

Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.

Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.

Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.

I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!

I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )

N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.

Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!

Ayato: …!

Heh… you really never change.

— hugs her—

Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.

Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?

Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!

Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.

Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!

Ayato: Nn…

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )

( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )

Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.

Yui: I’m not but…

I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?

Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.

Yui: Is that so? Thank you.

But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?

Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.

Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…

Will you uhm… stay overnight too?

Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?

Yui: I… T-That’s—!

Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.

Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.

— Smooch —

[reiderwriter]

Hii~ First of all I love your writing!

Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨

Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.

Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 

“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 

In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 

“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.

“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 

“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 

“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 

“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 

“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 

“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 

Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 

“So, how did you guys meet?” 

“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 

“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 

“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 

“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 

“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 

“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 

“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 

You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 

“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 

You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 

After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 

“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 

“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 

“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 

“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 

“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 

“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 

“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 

“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 

[ghosts-to-reid]

NeoGothic

A/N: First time writing for CM and Spencer so I’m still finding my footing. This will be the start of a series and will later include angst and smut. 18+

Part 2 / Bibliography

Summary: Receptionist at the BAU by day, Gothic Literature student by night. You are asked to consult on a case with the team, leading to you getting closer to the resident boy genius of the FBI. Going with the flow of the butterflies, you’re not sure where you’ll be taken when you accept the offer to consult on a case with Gothic themes.

When you applied to this random 9-5 admin job with the fbi, you weren’t particularly prepared for what awaited you. The job was a mix of different duties, filling case files for agents, passing on messages, answering the phone, kind of like a receptionist. However, you weren’t prepared to be filing away files for murders so horrific you couldn’t even imagine. The floor you were assigned contained the BAU, and as expected you were often face to face with the grim reminders of the horrors of humanity.

At university, the nature of humanity was something you often debated with your cohort. The why, who, where, when, and how was seen as key understanding to the nature of humanity, particularly the humanity of those who are fictional. See, you were a literature graduate, studying her masters during the evenings while trying to keep her head afloat and pay rent, hence the ‘random’ admin job that fit into your schedule perfectly. There was an adult mundanity in the fact you worked in the fbi that felt secure, that allowed you to study your passion with the knowledge that you had a job that supported that, and was a safety net if writing doesn’t work out. The role was easy, you weren’t particularly privy to inprotant information, but that wasn’t a problem, what you did hear was fascinating. In your time studying, you aquired a taste for gothic literature, and found it fascinating the new views gained after an overheard conversation from the team after their return from a case. Your understanding and insight of psychoanalysis in class has been applauded by your professor many times, and may or may not have earned you a few extra points on assignments when you throw in a fact overheard by the water cooler. The best thing about the job? It was never boring, there was always something new going on to observe.

Considering you’re not an agent, you communicated mainly with JJ, Penelope, and Hotch. Often having short interactions with Hotch, handing him messages or files that had been left at your desk for him, you were closer to the two blondes. JJ, as former media liaison, had trained you in some aspects for your role, an example being reporters finding the phone numbers of desk staff and asking them for intel, she taught you how to shut it right down. Over time, you exchanged pleasantries, and became friends. She would ask about how class was going, discuss weekend plans with you, often telling you to call her in any emergencies in her maternal tone. It was nice having a friend like her, when you moved to Virginia, it was on your own, your parents had passed and you had worked hard to earn enough money to move for college. Sure, it was a few years delayed but you weren’t going to college to party. So, JJs maternity towards you was welcomed. Penelope, however, befriended you almost instantly, or more likely decided to befriend you before you even got there.

As you arrived on your first day, satchel slung on your shoulder loosely, she greeted you at the elevator doors. A bright, bouncy, and very pink woman grinned at you and grabbed your hands before speaking frantically

“Hello there angel! It is so nice to meet you my name is Penelope and I am so excited to finally meet you! I’m so so sorry but I did do an extensive background search on you however it was with the best of intentions and you seem so so so lovely and I’m excited to have you here-“ she rambled on, making you almost dizzy, you kept your eyes trained on her and smiled back, giggling to yourself at her energy. Any first day nerves long forgotten.

“That’s okay!” You chuckled “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you Penelope.”

She took your hand and shook it excitedly

“You will love it here my love, I saw that you’re still a student, what are you studying, are you hoping to join the bay someday ebvause you know I have contacts” she winked as she lead you through the bullpen. A few people stopped to watch as the women lead you through, offering a small smile or wave, you assumed they knew Penelope and that this was fairly common. She lead you to a desk tucked away near an office with a plaque that read ‘Agent Hotchner’. A stern looking man emerged and joined Penelope and you.

“This is Hotch, he’s the head of the team!” Penelope introduced eagerly, Hotch reached a hand forward to shake yours with a small smile which you returned.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“I trust that Penelope has already told you everything you need to know” he glanced to the blonde woman who had already filled you in on the walk over “You know what to do, yes?”

You nodded, having completed your training for the job prior to starting, you were confident. Penelope offered yo grab you a cup of coffee, which you obliged with a smile, and began to unpack you satchel. The desk was nice, nicer than any ikea flat pack you had anyway. Making it your own was easy and when Penelope returned to drop your coffee and offering to lunch with you in her ‘bat cave’ she left you to your own devices.

Suddenly, this had become very daunting. There were already a ton of emails waiting for you, as well as files that needed to be dropped off. Picking your slight technophobe side however, you pick up the pile of Manila files and begin to read the labels for agents names. Luckily for you, name placards seemed to be a big trend around this office. Separating the files for each agent before making your way around the desks. Each agent offering you a small thanks, some introducing themselves, others just grunting in acknowledgment. Finally, you made your way to the last agent, a thin man with shaggy curls. His eyes were furrowed with concentration as he scribbled quickly onto a note pad, you gently placed the remaining folders on the end of his desk hoping not to disturb him, when his head snaps up.

“Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you!” But he shook his head

“It’s no problem. Thank you. You’re new, right?”

You nodded “started about… 15 minutes ago?”

“13 minutes 53 seconds ago.” He corrected, caught of guard you stammered slightly to respond, which made him flustered too “not that I was counting! I just, notice these things!” There was a beat “I’m Spencer by the way.”

“I know. I read the name on the file” you smiled, now he was stammering “I’m y/n.”

He returned the small smile awkwardly after a moment and nods, you wave him goodbye before returning to your desk.

Since that, your interactions with Spencer have been short. Occasionally chatting in the kitchenette, catching eyes across the room and exchanging small smiles. You didn’t know much of his life, though you wanted to. But it was hard to get to know a man who spent half his time out of the office, so you often cherished any moments you did manage to talk.

This particular morning you were deep in thought. JJ seemed to notice when you came in, and came to your desk soon after you sat.

“What’s up?” She asked, sitting on the edge of your desk, breaking you out of your ponderous trance

“Oh it’s just exam season. I was trying to plan an essay in my head in the way here. I’m struggling to find a topic.” You admitted, feeling slightly awkward that you were thinking so scholastically this early in the morning. JJ quirked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“You do Literature right? The gothic? Isn’t that mostly ghost and ghouls, and damsels in castles with a candelabra?”

You shrugged “kind of, it’s a bit deeper than that. You see the gothic actually wasn’t a literary genre until about the 19th or 20th century. The term was actually originally used to describe a Germanic tribe, who sacked Rome. William of orange actually used them to justify his usurption of the throne during the glorious revolution. But what’s interesting is that it was used almost like a slur in the next centuries due to the revival of more classical styles like Roman and Greek-“ you cut yourself off before you can ramble more, by this point JJ’s face has dropped slightly in a mix of awe and a shock. You pull your lips into a right line and mutter a sheepish “sorry”

“You sound JUST like Reid” she chuckled, you flushed slightly, but unsure why, you tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your belly “But you know all of this and you’re struggling for a topic? How come?”

This you pondered for a minute. Before sighing and looking at her again sheepishly before asking “promise not to profile me?” Intrigued the blonde nodded “I kinda need to up my game because my professor really liked my last essay topic and I’m not sure how to top it… “you trailed, JJ nodded for you to continue, unsure of your apprehension

“What topic was it then?”

"…How Male and Female Cannibals differ from each other in modern literture… it was titled 'Desire Vs Destruction'… i got the highest grade I’ve ever gotren because of stuff I’ve learned here…"

That definitely took JJ back. She blinked at upu momentarily

"i was not expecting that… but thats definitely interesting…" she thought for a moment "You use psychoanalysis a lot?" you nodded "Well, im sure you’ll think of something, just wait until we have a case and there’s your inspiration.” JJ smiled and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "worst comes to worst, ask Reid. He’ll have insight, I promise you, you’re a lot more a like than I ever realised.” And with that, she returned to her desk.

What did she mean you were were alike? He was essentially a walking super computer, an agent with multiple PHDs. Hell, he graduated from his second PHD by the time you even entered college, and he was only 3 years older than you. Your thoughts were interrupted by Hotch’s voice calling the team to the conference room. Watching as they all stood and gathered, your eyes trailed Spencer. As he walked, his sweater rode up slightly and gathered at his waist, allowing a slight bit of pink to peek through before he pulled it back down. Though, you still saw and blushed, shaking your head and trying to return to work.

45 minutes later the team emerged, most of the team exited, whilst JJ and Emily approached you.

“Y/N, we think we might need your insight on something.” JJ spoke, your gave her a surprised look, Emily continued for her

“You study gothic literature primarily in your degree, yes?” The woman spoke softly but direct, you’d never particularly conversed either her much before this. Confused, you simply nodded and followed them whilst they lead you to the conference room most of the team just left.

Inside you were greeted by Hotch and Spencer, who were stood next to a board. It was littered with pictures of bodies that made your eyes widen and turn quickly away, hiding In JJs shoulder. Spencer quickly pulled a shade down over the board as the group apologised

“Oh my god, were those people dead!” You squeaked, not asking really, you were aware what department you worked in. Hotch apologised once more before continuing.

“Apologies again, L/N. But I called you in here because I believe you may have some insight into our current case.” Slowly, you turned around again, confused once more, Spencer’s eyes were on you.

“Me? How?”

“This Unsub appears to be displaying a pattern pertaining to deaths synonymous with famous gothic works. So far he’s replicated the death of Lucy Westenra in Dracula, Carmilla the vampires death, And we believe he may begin to escalate. Your insight into the genre may help identify any patterns we may miss.”

A few beats passed. Looking around the room, all eyes were on you. Emily gave you a small pleading look, and JJ squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. Spencer’s eyes had never left you yet, when you look over to him, he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to say yes. You were sure that you weren’t as useful as you thought, but if they were the experts and they believed you could help, who were you to say no? With a deep breath of hesitation, you nod and take a seat.

Hotch briefs you on your role. No field work, of course, but you’ll join the team on the jet. He will give you temporary clearance to join them on scenes and other occasions you may be needed, your knowledge could mean you spot something the others don’t. Before you can agree, he explains the aspect that you forgot. The gore. Being a horror fan you were used to fake gore on screen, but real life was another story. The people on TV would go home, they’d see their family, and they’d continue on their lives, but the people in the photographs you saw wouldn’t. They’d never go home again. As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer spoke up from across from you.

“I know that it’s hard. It’s hard to stomach but, your insight might stop this from carrying on.” He paused thinking, looking to see if anyone would continue but they seemed to silently agree with him “Holding onto that thought. The thought that you’re helping someone truly and actively, then it helps you stay motivated past your own apprehensions.”

He seemed to know exactly what to say somehow. This man you barely knew, had somehow found the right words to say to get you on board, pensively you agreed. Hotch stood first.

“Ok we leave in an hour. Go home and pack a bag and meet the rest of the team at the airport. You’re doing a good thing, L/N.” As he left, JJ smiled and followed along with Emily. Leaving you alone, for the first time with the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid. He turned towards you to offer a small smile.

“I can give you a ride home if you like. I noticed you take the bus in, it’ll be quicker if I drive you.” He stated, surprising you

“Oh yeah that would be amazing thank you… but how did you know I took the bus?” You asked curiously, standing from your seat to stand nearer to him. He stammered for a second before collecting himself

“I noticed that you arrive mostly on time with the bus schedule, and the times you run late are in line with mornings with heavier traffic that causes the bus to take longer… I memorised the bus schedule when I first started.” He shyly looked to the floor, shuffling his feet, a beat passed before he looked up again to which you offer him a small reassuring smile. “Shall we?” He points toward the door, and you nod. You knew he was a genius with a quick mind but you’d never witnessed it first hand before.

On the drive, you were calm up until you had realised you agreed to leave the city in the same week you were supposed to be writing the essays you may have accidentally on purpose put off till deadline week.

“Shit” you gasp, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth before scrambling to email your professors, hoping this counts as extenuating circumstances, however in this process you had alerted the FBI’s resident genius next to you to your panic.

“Are you okay?” He laughs out, after your outburst had subsided slightly. Without looking up from your phone you spoke

“I’m knee deep in deadlines and I forgot and now I’ve got to go to… where are we going again?”

“Texas”

“Texas! And I haven’t started some and oh god!” Your head is in your hands as you groan. Reid chuckles a bit, before pulling up to your apartment building.

“I can always help if you’d like.” He spoke shyly, you peeked your head up slightly.

“How much do you know about gothic literature?”

“A fair amount. I’m a big fan of Ann Radcliffe’s writing, her essays are insightful” At the mention of Radcliffe you perked slightly, and when he said essays you sat up fully, more happy that someone outside of your cohort was aware of radcliffes essays.

“I could probably use some help with psychoanalysis actually…” you thought “have you read Rosemarys Baby or The Exorcist?”

“I’ve read both actually, a few times they’re some of my light halloween reads. I’m sure I can help, what exactly do you have in mind? The demonic aspects? I think I could give you some good insight, I’ve read Creeds book with the essay on the exorcist recently and I believe that you could make some good observations of abjection in motherhood in horror-“

As he rambled on you felt another small flutter. Hearing him discuss your passion with such ease and knowledge made you flush, he spoke almost as passionately as you. Maybe JJ was right about your similarities. Before you could think more on your new blossoming feelings, Spencer interrupted himself

“Oh we have to be there soon, we can talk about this later if you want? We can discuss on the jet and start planning tonight? During our downtime at the hotel possibly?”

You agree before you can conjure any more butterflies at the thought of being alone with Spencer. Moving quickly out of the car and up to your apartment, Spencer in tow.

You left Spencer in your living room whilst you packed a bag quickly. When you returned you found him eyeing your bookshelf.

“You have a great collection here… would you mind if I borrowed this?” He held up your well worn copy of dracula. It was annotated thoroughly, with more additions each time you reread, it’s well worn and well loved totem of your literary love.

“you should probably get a better copy, that ones nearly unreadable.” Making your way to your bookshelf, you search to find a nicer copy you had recently purchased from a second hand book store. But when you tried to hand it to Spencer he shook his head

“I’d actually enjoy reading your notes. If that’s okay.” Spencer looked at his shoes, a habit you noticed already, you couldn’t refuse him.

The car journey was filled with vivid conversations about Dracula, and how you thought it was unfair that Dracula was the iconic vampire when Carmilla was written first. The jet ride however jarred your nerves slightly. This was the first time you fully took in the crime scene photos, and you could see how the team quickly linked these to gothic novels. The victim who replicated Lucy Westenra had wounds that accurately depicted the characters turmoil from her turning, the (highly medically inaccurate) blood transfusions, and finally her vampiric death. The same can be said with the victim who replicated Carmilla, though she obviously didn’t have her own tomb, so the unsub dug her mother up instead. There were clear links to the novels, but something didn’t sit right with you.

“They’re all novels with vampiric elements…” you muttered.

“We noticed that too. We belive the unsub may be trying to chronologically work through the vampire cult novels.” Spencer’s eyes caught yours for a moment before you quickly moved to look at the folder once more.

“But no male victims?” You sifted through the crime scene photos once more, not entirely used to the sight still, but echoing Spencer’s words in your mind.

You’re helping people, and that’s what matters.

“No. Unsubs tend to stay to the same victimologies unless they’re forced to change, or they begin to deteriorate. This particular unsub is organised enough to plan the crimes in advance and execute, pun not intended, them without letting his urges take control.” Spencer told you, leaning over the table to point to a note in the file. He was close enough to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with the comforting scent of patchouli and coffee. A slight blush crept up your cheek, that made you loose your train of thought, stuttering your way through your next sentence.

“There’s a possibility the unsub could be a woman. One part of the gothic allure is the liberalism that it embodies, and for women that’s inviting. The idea of the monsterous feminie is being widely discussed at the minute, it’s why there’s so many horror films with female monsters that we end up rooting for. It’s a way to juxtapose the patriarchal constraints in soceity. Think Jennifer’s body, Yellowjackets, even historical figures like Elizabeth Bathory are all stories about monsterous women yet, somehow in their own contexts, we root for them. It could be possible that this unsub is a woman trying to take control, after someone wronged her. She could feel vindicated in her actions and see them as an expression of the monsterous feminine, and a man wouldn’t be so accurate. The fact that these are iconic monstrous women who were struck down by men could be symbolic of that anger she feels. The victim replicating Westenra had 4 different blood types present in her system, the character had 4 transfusions in the book. Her entire death is perfectly replicated, as described. They even sent her garlic flowers, like a warning.” After you were done you had noticed that everyone on the jet was staring at you. Glancing around you, started to feel that little blush that Spencer had induced, creep into a slightly brighter red of embarrassment. Did you do something wrong?

After a beat, Rossi spoke up.

“That’s some very insightful information, kid.” He looked around the jet, the whole team chimed in in agreement.

“Where did you learn that?” Emily spoke up with an aghast smile

With a relieved smile, your face began to cool down slightly and you, albeit sheepishly, admitted that you overhear them occasionally and have a tendency to research theories they mention, and that you may or may not have read Rossi’s books. The fact that you apply psychoanalysis to literature more often than not. They all seemed impressed

“Watch out guys, I think we’ve found a future profiler.” Derek spoke up from the row behind Spencer “Ever thought about going through the academy?”

“I don’t think I really have the qualifications to join you guys. I just like to read.”

“I reckon you could surprise yourself, baby girl.” Derek flashed a smile before sitting back in his seat. JJ gave you a proud smile before she turned back to continue her conversation with Rossi. Slowly everyone turned back to what they were doing before, leaving you in pensive thought as you looked out of the window.

Profiling was alluring. It’s just analysis on people, and with enough knowledge you can read anyone. Your thoughts were interrupted by a small voice

“I think you’d be a good profiler.” He spoke softly, giving you a grin before returning to his discussion with Hotch, expanding on your thoughts.

The arrival to Texas was a whirlwind for you. The team landed, drove to the precinct, and were quickly dispatched onto different tasks. Hotch had paired you with Spencer to go over victimologies to find a pattern in the victims lives and how they line up to those in the novels. The victim replicating Carmilla was an older Lesbian woman, u and alluring by all accounts, fitting the personality of Carmilla for the most part. Meanwhile, the victim who replicates Lucy was a known flirt. not promiscuous in a modern sense, but with the victorian ideals of Dracula, the fact she was dating two men at once made her fit well enough into the role for the unsub. It seems he is trying to figure out who she wants to replicate next.

Finally, hours later the team regroups for the night at the hotel. It doesn’t go without a hitch however, as it turns out that since you were technically not meant to be here, there was a shortage of rooms and, as though god intended to make things awkward, you had to double up with someone. Before any discussion could be had, just assuming you’ll be paired with JJ, Spencer surprisingly speaks up.

“I’ll share with her.” Was all he said, shocking both you and the team, but Derek spoke up

“Pretty boy trying to make a move on our junior profiler?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Soem et who was growing increasingly red.

“No- No that not what- no I mean we were goin- we were going to work- work on her assignment together.” He coughed and readjusted his posture, seeing him flustered like this made you smile “it’s logical if we share a room then we won’t be disturbing anyone travelling between rooms”

The team shared a look you couldn’t read, before JJ asked if you were okay with that, you nodded, you were honestly too tired and slightly overwhelmed and honestly? A bed is a bed, and you were absolutely going to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep once you got to the room. So it was decided, and it wasn’t until you got to the room it dawned on you.

You’re sharing a room with a work acquaintance, albeit a cute one, and you never questioned the bed situation. Entering the room you were greeted by your worry, and that was the lone bed in the enter of the room. You looked up to Spencer to assess his facial expression, he seemed to have forgotten to question the bed situation too. You started

“I can take the couch-“

“We can share” Spencer interrupted. Looking around the room. “It’s logical and hygienic, with the amount of germs on a hotel floor would get us both a lot sicker than any off of a human.” He cleared his throat, almost trying to convince himself. You simply nodded and put your things down and preparing for bed.

Half an hour later you were sat, crossed legged, on one side of the hotel bed whilst Spencer showered. You tried not to think about it and tried to focus on the paper you were reading.

Sure, you knew he was cute. That was just obvious. But you’d never really interacted before today, not in any meaningful way at least. Yet here you are, waiting for him to finish showering whilst you sit in bed. It was strangely domestic, but you shouldn’t dwell on the thought of making a nice life with Spencer Reid. He is a collegue. Without you noticing, Spencer had finished in the shower and had emerged, dressed in plaid pants and an oversized MIT shirt. You looked up from your screen to him as he made his way to the other side of the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and looked over your shoulder.

“That’s a good read, I read that last week actually.” He broke the silence between the two and you shot him a smile

“I’m really enjoying it… do you want to read it together?” You weren’t sure if that was a normal thing to ask anyone, you know people read books out loud to each other but reading an authors essay on Abject womanhood off of a laptop screen didn’t seem particularly as appealing. Spencer however nodded, and you shifted to be closer to his side. The tension palpable between you both

“Is this okay” you asked quietly. Your thighs were pressed together, laptop balanced between. Your arms were pushed together awkwardly and Spencer shifted. Unexpectedly, he wrapped the arm closest to you around your shoulder. This took you by surprise, taking your breath away momentarily and reawakening those pesky butterflies again. Somehow you managed to stutter out a yes before you continued to read. Eventually you both relaxed more into each others touch, loosing yourself in the words of the essay. You hadn’t realised that Spencer wasn’t reading, but looking down at you, watching how your eyes flicker between words between your eyelashes, and the small pout of concentration on your lips as you tried to take in the information. His long fingers were slowly tracing delicate lines on your skin, causing goosebumps to form in their path.

Eventually, you finished the essay but hesitated to shut the laptop. Your eyes lingered on the final paragraph, hoping to stay in his touch longer, yet you had to admit defeat, finally closing the laptop and shift slightly up right. Spencer’s arm lingered for a moment before he half heartedly moved it behind you. There was a silence as you both let the tension of what had just occurred sink in. Surprisingly, it was Spencer who broke the silence once more.

“You know many animals cuddle at night for safety, otters hold hands so they don’t drift away from each other.” He trailed, you quirked a brow at him, probing him to continue silently “what- what I’m saying is… if you want we- we can stay. Like this tonight… only if you want!” He couldn’t look at you properly, looking mainly anywhere but your face. Your heart was beating so fast you weren’t sure how to reply, so silently you just nodded. Spencer let out a small relieved breath before moving to lift the covers over you both, and opens his arms to let you in. You oblige gingerly, and slowly he wraps his arms around you. There’s silence as you both settle into each others breathing in the dark.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah Spencer?”

“Do you… think that maybe we could do this more?” His question caught you off guard. You lifted your head to try and make out his features in the dark, he was already looking down at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Can we… do this more?” He squeezed you against him to emphasise his thoughts, he meant cuddle. Slightly surprised you cocked your head to side.

“Do you not do this a lot?” Curiosity overcame you as you detached his eyes in the dark. There was a sadness that was palpable even through the darkness.

“No. I don’t really like people touching me” you try to move away, thinking you may have overstepped but he simply holds you against his chest tighter. “But I like this.” He mumbled into your hair.

Unsure how to process this, you simply nodded. Sometimes people need hugs and, you knew from JJ that Spencer was someone you could trust. So you allowed yourself to melt into his touch for tonight.

“Of course Spencer.” You muttered into his shirt before drifting off into the deep sleep you predicted, yet it wasn’t so dreamless.

Part 2 soon.

[cloudycera]

Guardian Shazam interactions I’ve decided make sense.

*HomeSchooled?*

Freddy: I’ll give you whatever book you want but I can’t teach you nothing.

Mary: No one was asking, Billy when you first said you were home schooled I was under the impression you meant it. You know like someone was teaching you.

Billy: I did mean it Mary, I just teach myself at home, that counts. I can read perfectly fine and I can do basic math and stuff.

Freddy: Then why do you want the textbooks?

Billy: It’s nice to know what kids are up to nowadays!! Always exciting to get my hand on actual schoolwork so I know I’m not that behind.

Freddy:……..Please just ask me to get you something inappropriate next time-OW!

Mary: Be quiet. I get it Billy, learning is still important even if you don’t go to school, I’ll bring you some of my homework and teach it to you if you want.

Billy: Thanks Mary :D

*Lovely Little Lady in the Justice League*

G.Shazam: I know it’s weird but I can fling half of you 50 feet in the air with one hand so please stop staring at me.

Superman: I apologise I’m just still confused on how you and Batman came to this agreement?

G.Arrow: Yeah what could’ve possessed him to string you into the league.

G.Shazam: Oh I wasn’t “stringed?”- em- “Strung along”? It’s not like that I wanted to join because it seemed like it’d be nice to get to know more heroes.

Batman: And I lost a good game of Poker in hell.

Flash: Excuse me?

Batman: Long story, Ms. Shazam helped me out and I when she asked if she could join I couldn’t say no…..apparently Lucifer is really scared of her.

G.Shazam: Oh you didn’t lose Mr. Batman, demons don’t play regular poker so they were definitely cheating and Mr.Lucifer never calls them out on their bad behaviour. I didn’t help you to get in the league promise, it’d be mean if I just left you with all that trouble.

Wonder Woman: Hahah! No need to be shy young one we can all see your honesty.

Superman: *whispering* Are you sure this is a good idea, she’s a kid?

Batman: She’s level headed, humble and works good in a team. With enough guidance who knows how far she’ll go, plus there’s nothing wrong with adding a youthful perspective.

Superman:…….”Youthful Perspective” Bruce….. You have like 9 kids how much youthful perspective do you need.

Batman: They’re not in the League.

Superman: That’s your only justification?!

[gyupinkys]

POUT SOME MORE

Choi Seuncheol x fem reader

Seungcheol is not a nice man. How could he be? To run a mafia you need to be ruthless and you are no exception to that behavior. No matter how many times he fucks you and tells you he owns you, he will never mean it. Thats until he see's you being a little to friendly with Shownu.

part 2

WC: 3.6K

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, degradation, humiliation, exhibitionism, chocking, impact play, spanking, ruined orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, possessiveness, arranged marriage, knife play if you squint, basically cheol being petty and fucking you in front his friends.

There's nothing in this world you didn’t have. You grew up spoiled out of your mind. Anything you ask for daddy would run and buy. He treasured his one and only daughter, making sure she knew how much he loved her. Despite being the leader of the largest mafia in the continent he never once ignored your needs or neglected you. Your father was always there for you and would do anything for you, you loved him endlessly. But there was one thing he couldn’t give you and that was Choi Seungcheol. 

Now, you pride yourself in being a strong woman. So there's no way in hell you would ever long after a man. What do you look like being caught up, sad, and upset over a… man? Just the thought makes you shudder. You didn’t love Seungcheol, not by any means. Sure, you loved the orgasms and the way he filled you up perfectly, but you didn’t love him. He’s far from your type, he’s a womanizer whereas you love pathetic men who do anything you say. You want the treatment you received growing up to carry on into your adult life and Seungcheol is not the man to give you that. But just the thought of not having him grovel over you… beg to be in your presence irks you… 

You’re the full package so why doesn’t he want you? You try not to be too caught up on this, busying yourself with your other boy toys, but it’s always eating away at you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he think you’re undeserving of him? He’ll fuck you, but not want to date you? Now you’re getting worked up. This is why you cut him off, it’s not worth the stress; it’s been four months without him and you’re (going crazy) fine. You take a sip of your bloody mary and sigh. Looking around you see the man himself enter the club with his stupid posse… god, you despised him. You ignore him, “don’t let men get the best of you.” you whisper to yourself.

“Why is my dumpling so worked up?”

You immediately know who it is and smile. You love this guy.

“Hi, Shownu.” you say smiling up at him. He’s so fucking fine. You haven’t seen him in a few weeks, he just returned from overseas business.

“Are you here alone?” he ask, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“No, Yuqi is around here somewhere.”

“Why is she always leaving you?” 

“Maybe so a tall, handsome grandpa could come and flirt with me.”

He clutches his chest. “I’m not old,” he says pouting.

“Don’t worry, you know I love an older man, and who else do I get to call daddy?” you smirk.

He groans, clutching your waist harder. “If you keep talking like this I’m gonna drag you out of here.”

You giggle.

On the other side of the club Seungcheol is fuming. His “I don’t care about you” act is backfiring. He has no claim over you and it’s his fault. He needs to maintain his big bad mafia boss act but he so badly wants to start pouting. Jeonghan senses it and nudges him. 

“Dude get it together.”

“But do you see her?” he whines. “She’s practically eye fucking him.” 

“You’re literally whining! People are gonna start looking.”

“Jeonghan you don’t get it! I literally fucked her brains out and then she cut me off!  And look at her she doesn’t even care.” he says as the whining increases. He’s two seconds away from actually stomping his foot.

“I don’t know how people buy this “alpha” act, you're actually just a little bitch.” Jeonghan says and rolls his eyes.

Seungcheol dramatically gasps. “Why would you say that to me?” 

“Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“And say what?”

“Cheol. I can’t tell you how to live your life. What will you do when I die?”

“I’ll just die with you.” he says seriously.

Jeonghan just groans and pushes Cheol towards you. 

“Keep it cool, keep it cool, keep it cool” he whispers to himself as he walks over to you.

He slides in the empty space behind you and orders a bourbon at the bar. You and Shownu turn to look at him. 

“Y/N. Shownu” he nods at both of you. 

“Hello, Seungcheol” you say with a small smile and Shownu just nods in return. You can sense an ego off about to happen and quickly make your exit. 

“Shownu, I’ll text you.” you say and get up only for Cheol to grab your shoulder. 

“And what about me?”

“What about you, Cheol?”

He doesn’t want to sound pathetic and beg. 

“You suck my dick  and say I’m yours and suddenly you’re acting like you don’t want to see me?” Nice one Seungcheol, way to fuck it up.

You raise your eyebrows at him and scoff. “Shownu will get a text because I don’t have to fake orgasms with him. He actually makes me cum.” you say with an innocent smile making Cheol scoff. 

You pat Shownu on the shoulder and walk off.

“Nice one man, maybe if you try respecting her she’ll fuck you.”

“I don’t need advice from you.” 

“You sure? 'Cause I'm the one who's gonna be deep in that pussy tonight” Shownu shrugs, walking away leaving Cheol pouting at the bar. 

“Dude, that was really bad.” Joshua says sliding next to him, making Cheol glare at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t end up texting Shownu. You heard about his arranged marriage thats being planned through the grapevine and one thing you don’t do is fuck married men. You stuck to your trusty vibrator to get you through the night. As you’re about to get out of bed you get a phone call from Yuqi. You know she’s gonna be recounting her entire experience last night in full detail. With a sigh you answer.

“Y/N. What did you do to Seungcheol last night?”

“Nothing?”

“When you left the bar he started pouting and whining to that friend of his; The American one. Look, I even caught it on camera.”

You rush to open your messages to see a video of Cheol sitting at the bar with a huge pout on his face. You can’t hear what they’re saying but his friend is just sitting there laughing. You start to laugh too, he looks so pathetic. 

“I’m gonna call him. I’ll call you back.”

“Tell me what he says!”

You scroll through your contacts until you find his phone number. You never bothered to give him a contact, he’s just a quick fuck after all (no he’s not). You call him and after a few rings he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chollie.”

“Finally decided you want me?”

“I don’t know about all that. But, I think someone wants me more than they’re letting on.”

“Who?”

“I heard this guy was practically crying over the fact I turned him down. He was pouting and whining like a baby.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear anything about that.”

“Oh, I bet Cheollie.”

“Y/n. Did you just call me to try to make fun of me?”

“Me? Make fun of you? I would never. I’m just shocked that more people don’t know the “scary big bad alpha leader” is secretly a little bitch.”

“Y/N, the next time I see you, you’re really in for it.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine and you’ll leave crying.”

“We shall see, Bunny.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw him you were indeed not in for it. You attended a Gala with your father which, to you, ensured Cheol would do nothing out of line. To say he was scared of your father was an understatement. To be fair everyone is scared of your father, except you. After tagging along with your dad to meet “potential husbands” you tell him you’ve had enough and would rather be shot than get married to which he rolls his eyes.

“Dad, Have you seen Choi SeungCheol?”

“Why? Do you have a crush on him? He’s a very dedicated young man I approve.”

You roll your eyes. “More like he has a crush on me.”

“Good to know. He’s probably upstairs.”

“Thanks. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

You head upstairs trying to not look like you’re searching for him. There's no sign of him or any of his rat friends which is weird. You walk to the bar trying to be mysterious but probably just looking lost and confused.

“Y/N, You look lovely.”

You turn around to see Yuta leaning against a pillar looking as dashing as ever.

“Hi, Yuta.” you say walking up to him and giving him a genuine smile.

“Are you looking for someone?”

“Seungcheol”

“Well from the stare I feel boring into my head I can assume he’s behind me.”

You giggle, a little over exaggerated if you're honest but you just want to piss Cheol off if he’s actually behind him.You’re too nervous to look behind Yuta so you keep your eyes on him.

“He’s so dramatic.”

“Are you two dating?”

“Yuta. Look at who you're talking to. I don’t date.”

“You’re right, my bad. But why are you trying to make him jealous?”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“You can’t fool me Y/N.” he says and pulls you into his chest.

“Might as well make your lies good.” he smirks and places a kiss on your jaw making you smile.

“Thanks.” you say as you peek over Yuta’s shoulder and see Cheol get up and walk away with Jeonghan at his side.

“My work here is done” Yuta says and winks as he walks away leaving you to your own accord on the bar. 

About an hour later you receive a text from your dad telling you to meet him downstairs. To your utter shock, standing at the door is your father, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan; laughing and chatting like they’ve been friends for years. What the fuck? You rush down the stairs as they wrap up their conversation. 

“Dad?”

“Oh, Y/N, let's go, I have some paperwork to draft.” he says, winking at Cheol.

Did they make a deal or something? Jeonghan is just smiling mischievously at you, making you more concerned. 

“I’ll be seeing you real soon, Y/N” Cheol says with a smirk as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fiancé?” You feel like fainting. You feel like killing someone, anyone, you feel like killing Seungcheol.

“What do you mean we're getting married?” you say feeling your temper rise. So this is what they were talking about at the gala? A fucking arranged marriage? God, you feel like crying. 

You look at your dad with tears in your eyes. “Dad?”

He sighs. “Y/N, You know I love you, but you need to settle down. And Cheol said you two have been dating for months. Am I so wrong to want to see my daughter marry the man she loves?” 

“What are you talking about?” you spit enraged. “I don’t even like Cheol. He’s so fucking annoying and I don’t want to settle down! Especially with him.”

Cheol walks up to you with a smooth smile. “Baby, Don’t be like that. It really hurts when you act like you don’t want me.”

You feel like killing him. Matter of fact, you will kill him. You run over to the living room center table and take out one of the many guns stashed there. Your dad quickly grabs you, probably anticipating your actions. 

“Dad I don’t want to marry him” you say as you start to cry, throwing yourself on the floor.

“Y/N. I’ve spoiled you for too long. It’s time for you to face the real world.” your dad says as he pats your shoulder. “Cheol, I’ll see you around. Take Y/N to your house, let her see her new home.”

You feel like your world is falling apart. You did wish for this, but now that you have it, it doesn't taste as sweet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You glare at Cheol from across the dining room table. He looks so fucking smug as he eats with his 12 fucking gremlins. God, You want to fucking break something. Why does he get to do this to you? He’s taking it too fucking far. You’re being forced to “meet his friends” like you give a fuck about any of them, but come to think of it, maybe you could use them to your advantage. 

You turn to the man on your left who has barely spoken a word to anyone but Jeonghan this entire time. “Joshua, Right?”

“That's me,” he says with a sweet smile. You see straight through him though, he’s probably awful. 

“Maybe if I met you first I wouldn’t be here. You are much cuter than Cheol.” you pout. His smile just widens and he shakes his head. “It’s a little too late unfortunately, maybe in another life.”

“I don’t see why not in this life.” you say as you run your finger across his hand resting on the table.

He looks at your hand and back at you. “Do you want him to murder me?”

“I’d rather he murder me at this point.” you sigh.

“Y/N.” Cheol growls out making you sigh more dramatically. 

“Yes, Cheollie?” you say sarcastically as ever.

“Why are you flirting with Joshua?”

“I was just wondering if he could actually make me cum. I’d love to have one last orgasm before I marry you and be bound to a life of awful sex.”

The room becomes eerily silent. You doubt anyone is even breathing. Joshua is looking like he wants to murder you but you're having the time of your life.

“Come here.” 

Your eyes widen at his tone. Woah. He’s not fucking around anymore. You get your ass up and walk around the table feeling all eyes on you. As you round the edge you gulp. 

“Take a seat.” 

You need to take a deep breath. You feel like all the air in the room is being sucked out. You sit in his lap and look in his eyes. 

“Any other request, Daddy?” you say with a smirk.

Making someone behind you choke on his drink and another clear his throat. 

Cheol’s hand flys to your throat and pulls your face towards him, forcing the little air in it out. “Don’t fucking play with me.” he spits into your ear.

“And what are you gonna do about it? Not make me cum?” you smile as his hand tightens. You can tell he’s embarrassed, not only are you embarrassing him but you're embarrassing him in front of his friends.

“Y/N. If I do remember correctly, the last time we fucked, you were crying and begging me to stop, clearly your the one who can’t handle some good dick. Two orgasms and you tap out?”

“I’ve always been told I’m a great actor.”

“Well let me refresh your memory.”

He pushes everything in front of him off the table and lays you flat on your back.

“Y/N, I try so hard. I try to be kind, to be sweet, to be the man you would want.” he says as he takes his steak knife and cuts through your top. “But it seems that's not the man you deserve. You deserve someone who will treat you like the fucking bitch you are, you just want someone to fuck you like a whore huh? You go around giving this pussy up to everyone, about time I make it mine.” 

You try to defend yourself but his hand on your throat only tightens. “Josh, Hold her hands down for me won’t you?”

Cheol looks down at you. “Since this is a community pussy, I’m sure you won’t mind if I use some help.” he smiles down at you. 

He pulls your pants off your body leaving you in just your bra and panties.

“My beautiful, Fiancé”

“Cheol Stop.” you say as you push your hips into him. You don’t even know what you want. You want to get up and stab him but you want to feel him stretch you open as his friends look. Actually you just want to piss him off. 

“Stop? I don’t think I want to.” 

“Joshua, take a good look. This is what you’re gonna get next.” you say smiling at Joshua.

One second you're smirking at Joshua and the next your cheek is on fire. Did this motherfucker just slap you? 

“Don’t look so shocked baby. You don't remember being on your knees, begging me to slap that pretty face?”

Your cheeks heat up. God, he’s humiliating you. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

He begins to harshly rub your clit over your panties, just the way you like it.. “I don’t think you want me to stop anyways. This pussy is dripping for me.”

“Are you sure it's dripping for you?”

He just chuckles. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking move tommorrow.”

 He pulls your panties off and throws them to the center of the table. “A treat for one of you.” He plays with your clit some more, pinching it and rolling it making you get closer and closer to the edge.

“I would stretch you out, but I doubt I need to. I’m sure sluts like you keep themselves nice and stretched.” You don’t even know when he unzipped his pants, let alone pulled out his dick. He rubs his tip through your folds making your eyes roll back. Youre already so fucking overstimulated, all the eyes on you, his degrading words, and the fact that you haven’t fucked anyone in weeks is killing you. 

“Beg.” he says looking into your eyes.

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” he says and tucks himself back into his pants. “And none of them are going to fuck you.”

Your eyes widen at this. Fuck. What do you want more? Your pride or dick? Ugh, and he already has you so close to an orgasm.

“Please.” you whisper.

“Did you say something?”

“Please.” you say a little louder.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Louder”

“Please fuck me Cheol!”

“Louder” he smirks, making you groan. 

“Please fuck me Cheol, I need it so fucking bad.” you frustratedly yell out

“There we go.” he says and he slides in bottoming out. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a beyond brutal pace.You have a feeling he wants it to hurt. It feels like he’s in your guts, you can barely breathe. Every thrust is sending you further up the table. You can’t even grip onto anything due to Joshua’s harsh grip.

“God.” you moan out.

“Don’t call for God, he can’t help you.” he grunts as he somehow fucks you harder causing the skin on your thighs to begin to sting. “Cheol, Please.”

“Please what, Baby?”

“Please let me cum.”

“Oh, Now I can make you cum? What happened to all that talk from before?”

“Cheol, I need it so bad.”

“I don’t care. Don’t cum.”

You hate this motherfucker. Tears begin to flow from your eyes from frustration and pleasure. “Cheol Please.”

“No.”

You were never one to listen anyways. You let go and cum all over him making him stop thrusting. “You’re real bold, baby.”

A harsh slap lands directly on your clit making your back arch. He hits you again and again, ruining your post orgasm bliss. “You know what? You want to cum? Then cum.” He begins thrusting again, rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like. Moments like this you wish he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. He thrusts straight into your g-spot making you moan loudly, coming out more as a scream. “Feel good, baby?” he smirks as you begin to cry more. 

“It feels so good.” you moan.

“Cum for me.” 

After a few more thrust you cum turning your face and looking straight into Jeonghan’s eyes. You can’t believe he’s letting all his friends watch this. Just the thought makes you cum even harder, to the point where you start squirting over his chest, making his white button down turn clear.

“Oh look at you, baby. Squirting all over me.”

How is this man still going? You feel like you’re going to pass out and you know you’re not close to done. 

“Cheol I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t take it anymore.” you breathe out. 

He just laughs at you. “I don’t care.” he says looking you dead in the eye.

He keeps up his brutal pace making you groan. “Cheol please.”

“Shut the fuck up and take it.”

You start squirming and trying to break out of Joshua’s hold.

“Don’t run, baby. Take what I give you.”

Fuck. That was hot. You clench on him, making him groan. “You like that? You like having to sit here and take it? Not having a choice but to be my personal sex toy?”

This is why you wanted him so bad. He knows how to fuck you, he knows what to say, he knows how to treat you, break you, put you in your place.

“Cheol, I’m cumming.”

He pulls out right before you tip over. Cumming over your stomach and chest. Joshua lets go of your hands and you shoot up with wide eyes. “What the fuck?”

He pulls you in for a kiss and whispers against your lips. “Next time you want to be a brat, remember this feeling.” He winks and tucks himself into his slacks. 

“I’ll see you baby, I have work to do.”

With that everyone gets up and leaves, trying to hide their hard ons and pretend they aren’t phased. When you look around for your panties you see theyre gone. You look at the guys and see your pretty pink panties sticking out of Joshua's pocket.

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ SWEET POTATO — iwaizumi hajime x f!reader. sfw. fluff. reader is pregnant.

“you know, i’m perfectly capable of going to the grocery store on my own,” you tell iwaizumi, lingering a step behind him as he walks down the aisle, scanning the items neatly lined up on the shelves. he only hums in acknowledgement. you click your tongue in mock annoyance because, despite your resistance to his assistance, you don’t mind having him around. still, you’re not used to being coddled like this. “being pregnant doesn’t mean i can’t walk. my feet aren’t defective.”

“just hush and let me help,” hajime speaks, resting one hand on the top of your head while the other reaches for a bag of brown rice. the weight on your head is comforting, a reminder of why iwaizumi is really here. ever since you read the positive test and the man who was meant to be with you walked out, iwaizumi, your best friend, stepped up and became your lifeline—attended all of your appointments, started reading baby books in his free time, calmed you down whenever you were feeling overwhelmed. he made sure you weren’t making this journey alone.

“can i at least push the cart?” you attempt to negotiate. you may not mind having him here with you, but you’d be lying if you said that following him around while he did all the work wasn’t getting boring. “wouldn’t it be safer to have something in front of me in case i trip?”

“how could you trip?” he asks, more humor in his voice than usual. “you just told me that your feet work fine.”

you groan at the way he twists your words, hands coming up to unconsciously rub at your belly. it’s become a habit of yours, caressing the steadily growing bump whenever you’re stressed or bored. it gives you something to do and floods you with an immeasurable amount of contentment.

“oh, congratulations, dear.” you turn at the sound of a frail voice. an elderly woman on the opposite side of the aisle looks at you through squinted eyes, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. you figure she’s referring to your stomach.

“thank you.”

“how far along are you?”

“eighteen weeks.” you smile. iwaizumi intently watches your interaction—the way your eyes light up and how your hands protectively cradle the little bulge. “this little one is the size of a sweet potato.”

the fruit and vegetable comparison was always a little silly to you but it came in handy during moments like these. this specific week actually helped you remember something that slipped your mind while you were making the list of items you needed.

“oh!” you snap and point at iwaizumi. “that’s what i forgot earlier. i’m going to go grab a few.”

“hold on, i’ll-” your hand shoots up, palm out, to stop him from finishing his sentence—one that you’re positive would include him insisting on joining you.

“hajime.” you’re more than grateful to have someone to lean on but at this rate, you’re going to forget how to live as an independent being. “i can walk a couple aisles down and bag some vegetables on my own.”

“right,” he curtly nods, “i’ll stay and wait for you here.”

you hurry off to grab the sweet potatoes your obstetrician recommended adding to your diet and leave iwaizumi to aimlessly shift back and forth on his feet.

“you must be excited.” the familiar voice catches the man’s attention, leading him to face the nice old woman.

“i’m sorry?”

“about becoming a father,” she clarifies.

his lips part in understanding and he nods. there’s no harm in letting one woman neither of you will see again think that he was the baby’s dad. it happened quite often but you always brush off the assumptions by jokingly saying “i wish.” it’s never bothered iwaizumi—people’s first thought being that he was the father or the fact that you corrected them. he expected as much when he offered a helping hand. what he didn’t expect was that his heart would jump every time he heard any variation of the word. he kept that to himself, though.

the woman slowly approaches iwaizumi and places a soothing hand on his arm. he has to look down to meet her eye but when he does, he’s met with nothing but warmth. her eyes crinkle with her smile. “i’m sure you and your wife will be great parents.”

she continues down the aisle, leaving iwaizumi with her words. his arms rest on the handle of the cart as the woman’s statement echoes in his head. parents. at the moment, hajime’s a support system—driving you around on errands and helping with chores around the house. the two of you haven’t discussed what his role will be after you’ve given birth, but, despite that, he knows he wants to be there for you and your baby every step of the way if you’ll have him.

“i’m back and bearing potatoes,” you announce your arrival, dropping the vegetables in the cart. your gaze falls to iwaizumi who’s staring ahead, his eyebrows knit together in deep thought. you reach out to smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb. “what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing.” what’s on his mind is a conversation better had not in a supermarket. “come on. let’s wrap this up and get you home for lunch.”

“gosh, you sound just like a dad,” you comment through a laugh, hooking your arm around one of his.

like clockwork, iwaizumi’s heart skips another beat. it feels different this time; he figures it’s because you’re the one who said it.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎