#Tailored Itineraries

[journey-asiaescapes]

Asia Escapes - Trusted Travel Agency in India | India Tours and Packages

Discover Asia with Asia Escapes: Your Travel Partner in India

Welcome to Asia Escapes, your gateway to the incredible diversity of India. We specialize in offering unique and personalized experiences for Spanish-speaking travelers eager to explore this vibrant country.

What We Offer:

Customized Tours: From the colorful markets of Jaipur to the serene beaches of Goa, we design itineraries tailored to your preferences. Expert Guides: Our local guides speak Spanish and will unveil the hidden gems of each destination. Culture and Adventure: Immerse yourself in India’s rich culture, savor its cuisine, and engage in thrilling activities. Why Choose Asia Escapes?

Customer-Centric Approach: We are dedicated to providing exceptional service and personalized attention at every stage of your journey. Authentic Experiences: We connect you with the true essence of India, from vibrant festivals to unforgettable local experiences. Comprehensive Support: From planning to your return, we’re with you every step of the way. Explore India like never before. Visit our website at Asia Escapes and start your adventure today. Your dream trip to India is waiting for you!

[taxiservicechaurffeur]

Why private tour in London is best for travelling with family?

Travelling with family is an amazing experience that creates long-lasting memories. When planning a trip to London, opting for a private tour chauffeur service will be best. It will also help elevate your family's travel experience to new heights.

With private tours chauffeur service, you can enjoy a range of benefits, i.e. from personalized itineraries to flexible schedules and exclusive access.

Let’s check out why private tour London vehicle serviceis an excellent choice for a family trip.

Why you should consider private tour chauffer service for a family trip?

While planning a trip with family it is important to create everlasting memories. With private tour services you can do so as they are expert in following services.

Tailored itineraries

The main advantage of private tour vehicle service is the flexibility to customize itinerary as per the interest and preference of your family.

It alsoallows you to design a personalized experience that suits your family member’s age range and needs.

Whether you want to engage in family-friendly activities like Harry Potter-themed tours or the London Eye or explore iconic landmarks like the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, or the British Museum, private tours can be tailored to match your family's specific desires.

Expert guides

A private tourchauffeur in London is an expert guide with in-depth knowledge about the city's attractions, culture and history, ensuring an educational and engaging experience for the entire family.

They can also adapt their storytelling techniques to captivate kids of your family, making the tour more entertaining and informative for everyone.

Additionally, the chauffeurs can accommodate your family's pace, allowing you to spend more time exploring areas of your interest and get answers to the questions that arise in your mind.

Flexibility and convenience

With private tour chauffeur service, you are benefited as they adapt to the schedule and preferences of your family.

You can easily choose the start time, trip duration to every attraction, and break time, ensuring a stress-free experience for every family person.

With this flexibility, families with younger travellers are benefited as they require more downtime.

Chauffer service of the private tour also provides door-to-door service, eliminating the hassle of navigating public transport and looking for parking.

They make your journey more comfortable and convenient.

Conclusion

While travelling with family, private tour London provides an array of advantages.

The ability to tailor the itinerary, coupled with an expert guide, ensures an educational and engaging experience for the entire family.

By avoiding traffic and busy roads, private tours and chauffeur services allow you to enjoy most of your time and keep younger travellers excited throughout the journey.

The flexibility and convenience provided by private tours make it easier to accommodate your family's needs and create a stress-free travel experience.

Also, while exploring the wonders of London, the chauffeur service offered by a private tour in London offer a personalized way to discover the right history, hidden gems and iconic landmark of the city.

It also allows you to create cherished memories as a family and helps to foster a deeper appreciation for the vibrant metropolis.

So, when planning a family adventure to London, consider the facilities offered by a private tour London and embark on a journey that leaves an indelible mark on the travel experience of your family.

[distantescapes]

8 Days in Central Vietnam: Hidden Gems and Local Experiences | Distant Escapes

Explore the hidden gems of Central Vietnam with a tailored itinerary by a Vietnam Luxury Travel Advisor. Discover Hue’s Imperial City, engage with local culture in rural villages, and enjoy the stunning landscapes of Phong Nha-Ke Bang. Experience Hoi An’s charm and savor unique culinary delights.

Visit Here:

[savvytravelers]

Professional Vacation Planners

Let Savvy Travelers' professional vacation planners handle all the details, allowing you to relax and enjoy your trip!

[journeysallure]

Journeys Allure

Website: https://www.journeysallure.com/

Journeys Allure, a boutique travel agency, excels in creating customized travel experiences tailored to individual preferences. Specializing in personalized vacation packages, our services range from exclusive small group tours to bespoke adventure trips and intimate luxury travels. With a focus on unique destination getaways and tailor-made travel experiences, we offer specialized expertise in crafting handcrafted travel journeys. Whether it's a boutique honeymoon package, a unique cultural tour, or a special interest travel, our personalized travel consultation ensures a memorable and unique experience. Embrace the joy of travel with Journeys Allure, where every journey is a personalized adventure.

Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@journeysallure

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[passportsplates]

Navigating the Travel Realm: Crafting Experiences and Building Client Connections

WordPress Learn about starting your own business Book Your next trip Discover the diverse world of travel professionals – some craft trips, others curate experiences, while some weave lasting memories. The beauty lies in finding the one that resonates with you. A stellar Travel Business Owner understands the power of collaboration and knows they can’t navigate this journey alone. They…

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS HCS ON YOUR BIRTHDAY! ── .✦

a/n: sorry if the text might be wrong because I’m currently crying a lot for personal reasons when making this so I won’t see clearly sorry! But this in honor of my birthday coming this Saturday

(Tags: batboys x birthday!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Master of Surprises: Dick would absolutely go all out to make your birthday feel special. He’s the type to plan a surprise party, complete with all your friends and family, but he’d make sure it’s something you’d love—whether that’s a big celebration or something low-key.

Personal Touch: He’d wake you up with breakfast in bed, complete with your favorite coffee and pancakes shaped like hearts or stars. He’d probably also give you a heartfelt handwritten card that somehow manages to make you laugh and cry at the same time.

Gift: Dick is a thoughtful gift-giver. He’d get you something meaningful, like a scrapbook of your favorite memories together or that one thing you mentioned in passing months ago.

The Day: Expect lots of laughter, dancing, and maybe even a karaoke session where he serenades you with a love song in front of everyone.

Dick's Birthday Motto: “It’s your day, so we’re doing whatever you want—just don’t say skydiving.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Low-Key but Thoughtful: Jason isn’t big on flashy celebrations, but he’d still want to make the day special for you. He’d wake you up with your favorite breakfast (probably ordered from that one diner you love) and insist on spending the day doing your favorite things.

The Day: He’d take you to a quiet spot in the city—maybe a rooftop with a great view or a hidden café—and you’d spend hours just talking, eating, and enjoying each other’s company. At night, he might take you on a ride on his motorcycle.

Jason's Birthday Motto: “I’m not great at this whole birthday thing, but I’m great at loving you. So, what do you wanna do?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The Planner: Tim would be hyper-focused on making the day perfect. He’d create an itinerary based on everything you love, down to your favorite snacks and TV shows. He’d also book your favorite restaurant weeks in advance to make sure everything goes smoothly.

Gift: Tim would give you a tech-related gift, like a custom gadget he designed himself, or something incredibly thoughtful, like a rare collector’s item tied to one of your interests.

The Day: Tim would spend the whole day focusing on you, even if it meant setting aside his work. He’d be a bit anxious at first, constantly asking, “Is this okay? Do you want to do something else?” but he’d relax once he sees you’re happy.

Tim's Birthday Motto: “Today is all about celebrating how amazing you are. And yes, I have a spreadsheet for that.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Quiet but Intentional: Damian would approach your birthday with precision and thoughtfulness. He’s not one for grand gestures, but everything he does would be meaningful. He’d probably prepare something himself, like baking a cake or making a handmade gift.

Gift: Damian would give you something deeply personal, like a portrait he painted of you or a rare artifact tied to your shared interests. If you’re into animals, he might even bring you to the zoo or introduce you to a new pet he rescued.

The Day: He’d plan something intimate and tailored to your personality, like a quiet dinner at home or a visit to your favorite museum or park.

Damian's Birthday Motto: “Birthdays are a time for reflection and celebration, and you, beloved, are always worth celebrating.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Elegant and Understated: Bruce would want to make your birthday feel luxurious without overwhelming you. He’d likely arrange a private dinner at Wayne Manor, complete with a chef and your favorite dishes.

Gift: Bruce would give you something incredibly extravagant, like a piece of custom jewelry or a trip to a destination you’ve always wanted to visit. It’s not about showing off—it’s about making you feel special and appreciated.

The Day: He’d take the day off (a rare feat for him) and spend it focused entirely on you. Whether it’s a quiet day at home or a luxurious outing, he’d make sure everything is perfect. Alfred would, of course, be involved in the planning.

Bruce's Birthday Motto: “You deserve the best, and I’ll make sure you get it.”

[alchemistc]

There are tiny firefighters checking the integrity of the roof in a grid pattern directly on his brain.

The first thought comes as he's filtering towards wakefulness: Ow.

He needs maybe a gallon of water, and for the sun to stop being so fucking bright, and for -

His arm is pinned by something. That's - there's something wrong with that. Why is that wrong?

Tommy snaps his eyes open and immediately regrets it. The sun is too bright, and the bed he's in is too small, and the ceiling spins as he tries to get his bearings.

No clothes.

Sore muscles that don't have anything to do with the roiling of his gut or the nausea as he tries to focus or the way his brain feels too big for his skull.

He's a little afraid to turn his head, so he makes do with shifting his eyes to attempt to figure out why there's weight on his arm.

His stomach lurches dramatically, and Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. Not fucking again.

It's like he can't fucking help himself.

Tommy had known he'd regret agreeing to go to this damn bachelor party. Gregson is a good guy, but his best man is absolutely insane and apparently loaded - they'd all wandered in to the hotel to check in only to find they each had a room, a new suit somehow tailored to their measurements (that was a feat, considering), an itinerary laid out on each bathroom sink that included the places Tommy only ever went to when a buddy took him, and (if he's not mistaken, he'd immediately dropped his off at Gregson's brothers room) a little box neatly filled with party drugs.

It'd been fine, up until they'd split off. Gregson's best man had mentioned something about escorts, and about a third of the married men had turned to Tommy in a panic, like Tommy's sexuality was the only thing that could be a good enough excuse not to cheat on their wives, and Tommy hadn't had the heart to tell them there were definitely male sex workers and they were definitely the kind of thing Gregson's best man would be able to find in a heartbeat. He wasn't interested, anyway. If Tommy found someone to sleep with on this trip, he'd find them him-fucking-self.

So he'd made an excuse. Told Gregson they'd meet him in the bungalow the next afternoon. Six panicked men had followed after him like lost ducklings, across the lobby of the hotel and out into the cooling night.

He'd found a quiet looking bar off the strip, set them all up at the pool tables, and downed three shots in a row the moment he saw a flash of wide shoulders and curls.

It was a problem.

Tommy wasn't a fucking saint. He'd ripped his own heart out of his own damn chest, and sometimes the only medicine to try to heal that still bleeding wound was an ill-advised hookup with someone he'd never see again. Problem was, every guy that'd caught his eye in the last six months had a few of the same features. Tousled curls, blue eyes, a barrel chest, cheeks he could sink his teeth into. He did it because it felt like an apt punishment.

The guy on his arm groans. Shifts his weight. Rolls a shoulder and spins into the cradle of Tommy's armpit.

Tommy risks a peek and regrets it immediately.

"Morning," he says, and Tommy has spent months successfully avoiding this, how did he cross state lines and stumble right into it?

What the fuck happened last night?

Evan's thigh hitches up over Tommy's, criminally, perpetually cold foot tucking into the space between his legs. He slides a hand up the shifting muscles of Tommy's abdomen and there's a flash of memory there - Evan Buckley's eyes going dark and cloudy when he realized that Tommy had trimmed back up post breakup: no more gentle give to his tummy because there was no Evan cooking decadent meals three times a week that Tommy burned off in bed instead of the gym.

The hand glides up, fingers reaching to tweak a nipple, and Tommy turns his gaze to that instead. He can't look, can't see, can't -

"Is that -?"

Tommy ignores every muscle in his body protesting as he snatches at Evan's hand. His left hand.

His left hand that has a gold band settled on the third finger.

Tommy risks running his thumb over his own finger and - yeah. There's skin warm metal on his hand, too.

He waits for the panic. The terror. The absolute agony of knowing what kind of shit drunk Tommy dropped him in.

Only.

The gap in his memory is slowly filling in.

The two of them, buzzed but steady, eyeing each other across the little patio table tucked out back between the bar and a little nickel slot casino. The glittering lights above turning Evan golden as he acknowledged that the both of them had been idiots. Tommy, feeling that draw, the pull that no amount of curly hair or blue eyes on a stranger could replicate. The hand that reached for his when he'd admitted how fucking much he'd missed him.

Evan's expression when Tommy had dropped the stoicism and called him Evan again.

The longer Tommy stares at Evan's hand, the smaller the goofy smile on Evan's face becomes.

He moves like he's going to roll away, so Tommy brackets him in, tucks his face into the disaster of Evan's hair and breathes. "It's...slowly coming back, but uh... was this your idea or my idea?"

"What, running into each other in Vegas at a dive bar off the strip?"

Oh. He's - well, he sounds a little mad.

Doesn't stop him from sinking his teeth into the side of Tommy's pec, though.

"Or actually having the conversation you've been refusing to have with me for months?"

Another bite. Sharper, pointed this time.

"You made us go to three different chapels because you didn't like the look of the Elvis in the first two."

So. Tommy's idea, then.

He can see the edges of it. The of all the bars in all the world mentality that had given him the courage to say his piece, to listen to Evan's. The rightness of Evan's hand in his own, the absurd joy that sizzled under his skin when Evan raised their intertwined hand to press his lips to Tommy's knuckles.

Evan forces himself up, out-muscles Tommy and ignores the tractor beam of light that darts across his face so he can stare Tommy down. "Do you want me to go?"

Tommy wonders where the marriage certificate is. He thinks blindly of the joke about eating it - good luck returning me without the receipt.

"Did we actually sit down and write vows on our phones before we left the bar?"

Hours. Two more rounds of shots and maybe three beers each while they dissected every fucking misstep they'd taken those first six months. He hadn't been sober when he'd thrown it out there, but he hadn't been wasted either.

Tommy doesn't believe in fate. In curses, or the guiding hand of the universe, or soul mates.

But the coincidences seemed stacked, last night. Like this was all inevitable. Like eventually they'd be led back to each other no matter how many times Tommy found a poor substitute, no matter how many times Evan dipped his toes in and found he just wasn't as interested in someone new as he'd hoped he might be.

"I liked the bit about boils and all," Evan murmurs, and Tommy - well, he has to kiss him about that, doesn't he?

This doesn't solve anything. They've spent six months apart. They've got a share of issues that'd make a grown man weep. They - God, did they even say the words last night? He doesn't think they said the words.

Evan breaks the kiss to look him square in the eye, like he's read Tommy's mind. "I love you. I never stopped. Is that - is that enough, for now?"

Tommy feels light as a feather. Bright, and happy, and terrified out of his fucking mind. "Evan. I love you. We should get a divorce."

He narrows his eyes. Twists the ring with the pad of his thumb. "I think we could probably just do an annulment." Tommy laughs. Evan's vows are coming back in bits and pieces as his gaze in this moment mirrors the one he'd had on his face with a mildly better Elvis impersonator standing between them. Platitudes about not finding something but making it. Fancy words that only meant something because Evan wanted them to. Because Tommy did.

"I'm keeping the ring," Tommy says, and Evan's grin splits down the middle as he leans back in, somehow not bothered in the least by Tommy's morning breath.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

rich! abby who spoils you like her little princess. she has so much money and no one else to spend it on. so why not spend it on her beautiful girlfriend whom she loves more than anything in the world? 

you mention breaking the strap on your favorite pair of shoes? new designer pair on your doorstep the very next day. she catches you online shopping? fill up your cart and use her card. after a few years of dating you’re running out of closet space so she buys a whole new condo with a walk in closet just for you. 

you’re at a restaurant or bar, she doesn’t even let you look at the bill. and trust this girl is taking you to the most luxurious spots in town! 

need your hair and nails done? she’s venmoing you for the cost plus an extra hundred with a transaction note that says:

get yourself something to eat on me <3

she asks you to pick one place, anywhere in the world, that you want to vacation to. the moment you answer she’s already buying tickets and organizing an itinerary. 

it was the second night you were there, sitting in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup when you notice abby was pacing around, clearly anxious. 

“you okay, baby?” 

she comes around behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. for a moment she just stares at your reflection in the mirror, completely in awe. 

“you’re so beautiful.” she softly kisses your cheek.

you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “so you’ve said at least a hundred times tonight.”

she was already dressed in her grey button up vest combo and slacks she had forgotten to get tailored before you two left. she felt stiff and stuffy in the outfit, but you had requested a fancy dinner and she intended to deliver. 

“fuck, okay i can’t take it anymore” she releases you from her grasp. “hold on, i got you a gift. stay here and close your eyes.” she practically runs off into the other room and you hear her shuffling through her bags. 

you raise an eyebrow, unsure of exactly where this was going, but oblige, nonetheless. “abby, can’t it wait until after dinner?”

"no!" she shouts back.

you couldn’t fathom what that girl had stowed away for you. she had peeked over your shoulder while you were looking for a new necklace earlier that week, so you could only assume that’s what it was. 

this was by far the most nervous abby had ever been in her life. every situation paled in comparison to this moment. 

“okay, turn around and open.” 

when your eyes flutter open, you see her awkwardly bent down on one knee. the sight wouldn’t have been so funny if it weren’t for the full suit with no shoes. 

for the rest of the trip, everywhere you went she couldn’t stop saying “me and my fiancée”.

when you eventually have the wedding ceremony she’s sparing no expense for her baby. want a destination wedding? you got it. custom designer gown? of course. live band, open bar, and a guest list of however many people you can think of. 

anything for her fiancée wife. 

just wanted to write something silly and fluffy! reqs are open :)

[msbigredmachine]

You Again (Roman Reigns) - Part 1

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series.

Pairing: Bully!Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 2,500

Warning: Hints of smut, stalking, bullying

FINALLY! I've fleshed out this WIP. I'm so proud of myself! Hope you like it. Enjoy!

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

Evelyn squeezed into the crowded elevator, relieved that she’d gotten in before the doors could slide shut. She combed her fingers through her wig, smoothed down her blouse and took a deep breath as another work day that came too soon was about to start. Stepping out on the fifth floor, she fixed her face like she didn’t wish she was back in Cancun sipping on some Piña Coladas at her beachfront cabana. 

The offices of Wow Magazine buzzed left and right, with employees and staff bustling about as the latest edition of the fashion Bible was published on print and digital media today. Evelyn plastered a smile on her face and accepted their glowing compliments on her outfit. Dressed in a cute off-white sweater blouse, a white pleated miniskirt with sheer Fendi ‘F’ tights and black stilettos, the ‘Editor-in-Chief’ nameplate pasted to her door reminded her every day that she couldn’t be caught dead looking a mess at any time.

“Latte for Miss Ashton?” Her assistant, Faith, entered her office ten minutes later with her usual Starbucks order. “Welcome back, boss. You look refreshed and ready to go already!” she chirped, setting the Styrofoam cup down on the mahogany desk. "How was your vacation?" 

"Way too short. I wanna go back already," she replied. "So what's on my agenda today before I change my mind and get outta here?"

Faith laughed and scrolled down her iPad. "You got a meeting at ten with Tessa on September’s feature cover. Your lunch meeting with Roger from Finance is at noon, then there’s a couple of itineraries that need your approval. I’ve already emailed them to you."

"Sounds good." Evelyn took a sip of her coffee and chatted some more with Faith before she was left alone to get settled. At five to ten, she was walking to the conference room when she caught a glimpse of a tall, powerfully built man standing at the reception area, his back only visible in profile. His well-tailored pinstripe gray Gucci suit was a perfect fit on his big frame and all the musculature underneath. A jolt of interest pinged through her for this attractive stranger, but it was quickly replaced by shock as he turned around and his dark eyes met hers.

This was no stranger at all. It was her worst nightmare!

It had been several years, but there was no mistaking that face. It was bad enough that she’d had to look at it every single day for much of her teen years. Said face also haunted her TV on Friday nights, and given how he'd made her life miserable, she couldn’t forget it if she tried.

Oh no. No, no…no!

She felt her stomach drop when his eyes widened. Fuck! He recognized her, too! She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his fiery stare as his lips formed her name.

“Evie?”

Hearing him address her by her shortened name snapped her temporary paralysis. Ducking her head, she almost stumbled in her heels as she rushed into the conference room and slammed the door shut. Flattening her back against it, she exhaled shakily, her heart racing at a million miles a minute as she struggled to process what she’d just seen.

More frightening was the sight of him walking into the conference room just a few moments later with Tessa, Wow’s Artistic Director, a cheery smile on her face as she announced,

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the cover star for September’s edition, WWE Superstar Roman Reigns!”

Focusing on the meeting was difficult. Staying professional was even tougher knowing her tormentor sat mere feet away, staring a hole through her the entire time. She wanted to throw up as Tessa gushed over the magazine’s newly-penned partnership with WWE, which came with a cover feature for its biggest star in their most popular edition of the year. This also meant that in just a few short weeks, Evelyn would have to see him again, as it was her job to oversee his photoshoot, wardrobe, and the interview itself. Even more nauseating was that Management was to hold a lavish yacht party this coming weekend celebrating the partnership with Joe as their special guest of honor. Clearly, a lot had transpired while she was away, and she didn’t like any of it one bit.

Neither Tessa nor Faith noticed her eagerness to get out of there when the meeting finally, thankfully ended. She quickly darted into the break room nearby and fought to catch her breath, hating that she was running around like a cornered rat. Luckily the room was empty, meaning no one could see her in her flustered state. She was known for her cool calm demeanor, but one asshole had just come into her world and turned it upside down. Again.

She couldn’t believe this! Why was the Lord testing her like this? 

Joe Anoa’i had single-handedly almost ruined her entire high school experience. For one, he made sure no boy came near her during her first three years. She was the constant butt of mean jokes thanks to his stupid football teammates, led by him and his twin cousins Jon and Josh Fatu. Her locker would often be spray-painted with derogatory names or overflowing with trash, and, at one horrific time, used condoms. She remembered the tears she’d cried after she had to clean up that disgusting stuff all by herself in front of everyone.

When her father was transferred out of state right before her senior year began, she had been beyond relieved. Most teenagers would have been devastated to be uprooted for their last year in high school, but Evelyn was ecstatic. She was never going to see Joe or his cronies again, and it was the chance to finally have a normal high school experience.

She could vividly recall the last time she saw him. She'd been so happy at the prospect of escape that, when he paused in the hall to watch her clean out her locker for the last time, she made full eye contact with him for once and laughed in his face.

"Sayonara, bitch," Evie cheesed, smiling smugly when a scowl darkened his irritatingly handsome face. 

"What are you doing?" he demanded, walking up to her, his expression intense.

"Gettin’ away from you and this fucking school forever. You’ll never see me again and I don’t gotta deal with your bullshit anymore," she replied coldly. Stepping past him, she almost fell over when he grabbed her arm and yanked her back, colliding their bodies together.

Joe leaned down, towering over her petite figure, and growled, "Oh sweetheart, trust me when I say you'll see me again. I’ll find you wherever you are, no matter how long it takes. That’s a promise."

Evelyn recalled his raspy last words with trepidation. That he had indeed found her, just like he’d threatened, spooked her to no end.

Behind her, the door clicked open, and the air in the room changed. Shifted. Charged with a palpable tension. Through the reflection of a nearby window, she saw Joe shut the door behind him. With her heart in her throat, she kept her back turned and did her best to ignore his approaching footsteps. But with only a few long strides, he was standing right behind her, boxing her in his much bigger body. She hated the way her skin prickled and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Blood pounded in her ears as his familiar scent reached her nose, triggering memories of when he had mercilessly tortured her in school. She stiffened at the reminder and struggled with her body's response to his closeness. Close enough now that there was very little room for her to escape even if she wanted to.

His hard chest molded against her back. His thick, muscular arms stretched across the table she leaned on from both sides, trapping her. She could feel every inch of him, every muscle attached to her like steel to a magnet. Her breath caught, torn between shoving him away and giving in to the arousal that pulsed through her body. When she felt his mouth close to her ear, a shiver coursed down her spine. 

"Evie," Joe breathed. His low, husky voice uttering her name set off the butterflies in her belly and spread heat through her body. As his hands moved to her shoulders, her skin broke out into goosebumps and her nipples hardened into sharp little points, chafing almost painfully against the lace of her bra. Despite her body's involuntary reaction, she held herself rigidly, staring straight ahead, giving no indication that she could feel anything.

"I thought I was imagining things," he went on in that gruff, yet velvety tone, "But no. I'd know that face anywhere.”

“Oh look, the leader of N’Stink is here. Long time no see,” Evelyn finally spoke up, her tone cold and clipped.

“Leader of what?” he laughed. She didn't see what was so funny.

“That was my name for you and the evil twins. Jon and Josh. I remember you all,” she said.

Joe smirked. “Who knew little Evie Ashton was so creative.”

“I’m not ‘Evie’ anymore. I go by Evelyn now.” She dared to glare up at him and despised the way her knees weakened immediately. He was more gorgeous than he was twenty years ago and was still able to effortlessly awaken her body with just one look, with just his proximity. It reminded her how, as a teen, she had been so confused and embarrassed by the way she simultaneously loathed him and desired him. Unfortunately nothing about that had changed. 

"This is the other reason I knew it was you." His mouth was by her ear again. To her complete shock, he pressed himself against her, and she sucked in a breath as what felt like an impressive erection lightly prodded her backside. "All you had to do was come near me and you had me so hard I couldn’t walk straight sometimes."

Hold up!

Her eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”

“You have no damn idea how much I wanted you, Evie,” Joe elaborated, licking his lips as he gazed at her. “I wanted a taste of them soft lips. Your tits. Your pussy. Hell, I still do.”

Evelyn clenched her thighs together, failing to stop the rush of warmth between her legs at his unexpected words. “You’re fuckin�� lying,” she stammered. This coming from the same guy who regularly made fun of her skinny frame and horn-rimmed glasses back then. Total bullshit!

He shook his head. “I'm not. You feel that, don’t you?” He grinded against her again, nudging the back of her skirt a little higher up her thighs. She opened her mouth to tell him to get the fuck away from her, but all that came out was a whimper. She glanced down, seeing his strong, tanned hands now grasping her hips, lining up her ass directly against his crotch. Mindlessly, she pressed back against him, her body giving into the urges despite her brain’s protests. Lust coursed through her, drugging her into docility. The same thing kept happening back in high school. Even when she was furious at him, he'd affected her so strongly on a physical level that she felt almost drunk when she was around him. What was worse, he was the first and only boy who had turned her on like that without even lifting a finger. Not even Chuka, her ex-fiancé, ever set her body on fire like this, despite his numerous attempts. 

As a teenager, she would daydream during the day, and at night, laying alone in her bed, fantasize about being with Joe Anoa’i…wondered what it would feel like, imagined the heights he could take her to if they ever had sex…

Encouraged by her complacency, Joe’s lips trailed the crook of her neck, and her head tilted back reflexively. His steel length felt like it was branding her through her skirt. She panted heavily, air expelling in short bursts from her lungs as his mouth trailed ever closer, ghosting over her jawline and her cheek before finally landing on hers, sucking her bottom lip. For the life of her, she wondered why she didn’t push him away. Perhaps it was because she was starved for a man’s touch which had been missing for the past year. Or maybe because it was a kiss she’d dreamed of; a kiss that would set her ablaze and burn her from the inside out. It was the kiss she’d wanted for two decades but never got. Until now.

Evelyn could hear her inner, mentally-scarred teen scream for joy as she turned in his arms and kissed his soft lips back with a defeated moan. The energy between them had amplified tenfold, making her heart race, urging her to dive into him. Joe seemed to read her mind and, pushing her up against the table, slipped his tongue into her mouth, his hand leaving her waist to curl around her throat. It was the simplest, yet the kinkiest of touches which unleashed a tsunami between her thighs and another moan against his lips. She felt his dick pulse against her belly as the kiss became more urgent, hungrier. With a gentle nudge of his foot, he spread her legs wider apart, and her body jerked with surprise when he shoved his other hand inside her skirt, boldly cupping the mound protected by her panties.

“Just like I thought, you’re wet as fuck. Did I make you wet like this back then? Huh?” Joe goaded, his lips an inch from hers, making her feel every word he uttered. "Tell me."

Evelyn couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back, or her body grinding against his fingers as they circled around the dampness on her underwear before tugging the satin material to the side. His hand on her neck slipped lower to grab her breast, fondling it in his large palm as his lips latched onto the side of her throat. It was an attack from all fronts and Evelyn was very much losing the fight.

Until his finger dipped inside her wetness, which her brain computed as one lascivious act too many and finally snapped her back to her senses.

“Okay, stop! Stop it!” she hissed in a panic, pushing him off her. She glanced around the room, hoping no one else was there as she adjusted her clothes, and then raced out of the room as fast as her heels could carry her, desperate to get away. She slammed her office door shut and did not come out again until he left.

On her desk, the invite to the yacht party taunted her in its fancy, elaborate lettering and graphics, a craftwork that would have impressed her if it didn’t make her want to vomit and run away forever, or better yet, book another flight to Cancun never to return.

How the fuck was she going to get through the week? 

And where the fuck was her vibrator when she needed it?

END OF PART ONE

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

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[fanaticsnail]

i just wanted to say i really liked your garp fic and i was wondering if you were going to do a part 2?

Bonnie Lass (2/2)

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here.

Word Count: 7,925

Synopsis: You finally meet with the handsome older gentleman at the other end of the den-den-mushi. He promises a night you will both not forget in a hurry - will it live up to that expectation?

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ You have been warned, smut, p in v sex, oral afab!receiving, bonnie lass - wee bonnie - lass - bonnie gendered terms used, afab! reader, "The Garpening", flirting, supportive boss Mihawk, den-den-mushi calls, both are shameless, age gap, unprotected, creampie.

Notes: This fic was brought to you by a bottle of wine, long chats with @carrotsunshine, @since-im-already-here, @sordidmusings, and @feral-artistry, my incessant need to write for older men, and an overbearing need to know exactly where Garp's appetite leads him.

Apprehensive and Apologetic Tag list: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @i-love-myself-xd @the-reas0n-is-y0u

The seabreeze whipped through your hair, the gullsong serenading you as Mihawk’s vessel made to dock at the Marine port. You squint your eyes up, staring at the bleached stone walls of the large building that held the promise of good food and pleasurable company. Hanging on the words Vice-Admiral Garp last spoke to you, your body immediately felt compelled to wander forward to exit the ship and gleefully skip towards the mighty doors.

But you knew better. 

The presence of your boss, Dracule Mihawk, fell beside you: his bicep brushing with the pointed tip of your shoulders as he physically began rumbling a low growl. He despised attending meetings held by the World Government, meaning he would likely require additional resources to get him through the week you were to remain docked at harbor. 

“My lord,” you addressed him, turning your body with a curt nod to him. He hummed in response, unbreaking his eyes away from the headquarters of the world government. With a small exhale of breath, you regained your composure and began relaying his itinerary for the day to him.

“An hour after we dock, your presence is required to partake in a meeting of the warlords of the sea,” you began, elevating your clipboard and scanning the paper pages for the next item on his agenda, “Afterwards, you have a brunch with Boa Hancock and Jinbei - to what end, I was made unaware. After that, you’ll be given your assignment to rid the outer ring of the ‘unruly plague of piracy’ the World Government deems important enough for your skill - likely to be completed over four days of battle, given the numbers,” Your brows furrowed, searching the pages for further information, “Then you are to meet with your tailor, just before your new headshots are to be confirmed by den-den-mushi.”

Mihawk clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as the marines roped his ship into port. The more you spoke, the more agitated he became. Not agitated at you, never agitated with you - he despised these meetings, and hoped that bringing you along would ensure a safe and swift encounter. He always struggled with managing his agendas and itineraries with these encounters, almost electing to bring you along simply for moral support if nothing else. 

“And then?” Mihawk spat through his clenched jaw, fists balling at his sides. 

“And then,” you confirmed, placing your clipboard under your arm and smiling up at your boss, “You have been booked into an onsen for a private spa, a massage and hot stone session in the hamam, and,” you stepped further towards Mihawk, adjusting his overcoat and soothing over his shoulders to rid the material of fray, “After that, I have sent a bottle of Rosso, and asked for for the next book in that romance series you have been indulging in to be awaiting you in your personal suite.” 

Mihawk exhaled a sigh of relief, clapping a hand over your shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. You smiled up at your boss, nodding at him to affirm your notion of providing his relief. You turned away, bringing your attention back up to the top of the building, and focussed your pointed gaze at the silhouette glaring over the balcony of the highest point. 

“And while I am distracted by a good book and a bottle of wine,” Mihawk’s taunting purr cracked into your ear, “Where will you be, my dear?” You drew a sheepish grin up to your lips, a faint flush igniting your cheeks 

Mihawk leant down into your ear, his breath tingling and hot against your flesh as he uttered his warning into your ear.

“Wined and dined by an old man?” he taunted down, his smirk visibly present in his tone, “Keeping me at bay while you enjoy a few stiff drinks, before being railed by something else stiff-.”

“Lord Dracule Mihawk!” you scolded him, turning to join your ignited gaze against his playful, honey-colored orbs, “I am first and foremost your assistant.” Mihawk’s lips twitched at the corners, indicating his amusement as close to a smile as he would ever publicly display. You huffed out your breath, shaking your head while adding, “I have never met him in person, and he is yet to extend a formal invitation to join him for dinner. I will be busy all day tending to your affairs, as I always am, Sir.” His amusement never lessened, only growing on his lips with another twitch.

“And after the day of your duties?” Mihawk’s brow twitched in interest, “What then?” 

“What then,” you shoved your index finger into his chest, scraping it up to tap the tip of his nose, “Is that I will be tucked safely within my bedsheets after a long bath and a hot meal. I am here to serve you, sir. I am your assistant, and I am a damn good one.” 

“That you are, dear,” he confirmed, placing his other hand on your shoulder, holding you in place, “Which is why, after today, I have given you three days paid shore leave.” Your stunned silence only propelled him on further to add, “Buy yourself a new pretty dress, and enjoy the sights,” he leant forward with a small wink, his darkened lashes kissing against the waterline to hide his brilliant amber eyes briefly, “And then, get the old man to roar your name in the thralls of joint ecstacy. By my orders, dear. You have earnt it.”

The warm rise of warmth held against the apples of your cheeks all day, constantly repeating Mihawk’s comments in a circular swirl within your mind. From the moment your temporary office was welcomed by a pink-haired cadet, to filling in a variety of paperwork, to taking various den-den-mushi calls, to clocking out for the day - the flushed heat held firm against your cheeks. 

No whisper of a word, nor scroll of a calligraphed note, graced your temporary office with its presence. You honestly thought you had been forgotten, neglected in the knowledge that you had journeyed long beside Dracule Mihawk to be within close proximity to the man who held your undivided attention every day for the past year. 

Just as you were packing away your desk for the day, the den-den-mushi began to roar to life on your wooden countertop. The reverberation of its guttural grunts and gurgles had you satiating its tone by answering the call. 

“Lord Dracule Mihawk’s den-den-mushi. State your intentions, and make it quick-,” you growled, your professional tone wavering in agitation due to the proximity of your shift ending. 

“-Oh, sweet bonnie lass. I dinnae mean t’keep ‘ye waitin’,” the soothing drawl of Vice-Admiral Garp purred through the transponder. You huffed out an exasperated breath, your brows furrowing further against your forehead as you navigated through your swelling mind. 

“Vice-Admiral,” your warning tone cut through the air, halting all further conversation with a concluding utterance of, “My office hours have concluded for the day. Should you desire to reach Dracule Mihawk for any need, you may try again at-.” Your words were stolen from you by Garp’s tone cutting through them like a knife through hot butter.

“-Please, lass,” his plea cracked through the den-den-mushi, holding you hostage to his words, “Please dannae brush me aside. I have been in meetin’s all day, and I have been trying to claw my way to you from the wee hours of the morn, to the quiet moments of the noon.” You rotated your neck, relieving tension found within the tight bands of your muscles. 

“Vice-Admiral,” you began, interrupted once again by his rumbling brogue growling through the mouthpiece of the den-den-mushi, “I have had a long journey at sea. My only welcome being more work at the bequest of my employer. I do not have time to entertain you over the transponder today. If you desire to speak further, you can try again tomorrow, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, lass. It’s Garp, please,” his breathy voice gasped through the speaker, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I should’ve been down by the docks waiting - up to my knees in sea water to reign your ship in with my bare hands.” You hummed at the thought: a high and mighty Vice-Admiral of the marines lowering himself to the duties of a simple cadet at the chance of meeting his eyes with your own in person. 

You took a moment's pause, contemplating his words and mulling the thought of him demonstrating his strength and stamina to you while shepherding Mihawk’s ship into port. Did he have old navy tattoos on his biceps? Did his advanced age hinder his ability to perform such a task? Gathering he was the one who suggested such a notion, and him being a man of high honor, you gathered he would be up to such a muscle burning task. 

“Alright, Garp,” you hummed into the transponder, leaning back into the transponder and purring through your vocal challenge, “Make it up to me.” 

A shuddered groan sparked through the mouthpiece, your own giddy joy elevating in your chest and igniting your body with soft tingles. If he had this much sway over you with just a small growl of his voice, you were unsure of where the next few moments were to bring you. 

“Meet me at the docks in two hours, Bonnie Lass,” his tone was hushed enough to draw you in closer, your ears pricking to catch every syllable granted to you, “And I’ll treat you to a night you willnae forget in a hurry.” Your broad grin split your face, a small squeak of joy threatening to escape your lips with a soft hum.

“And how should you like me, Garp?” you asked him, your taunting purr calling further into the receiver end, “Should I prepare my wardrobe for an outdoor activity,” you questioned, your foot tapping lightly within the air while hooking over your knee, “Or should I just throw a coat over some lingerie and call it a night?” 

Several cracking objects bent and broke, echoing throughout the den-den-mushi transponder; something akin to wood snapping and nails tearing through mahogany. You rewarded such a sound with a melodic giggle, only producing more creaking wood noises in consequence. 

“Wear something dainty for me,” a low rumbled growl purred at you, “What you choose to wear under it is your prerogative.” 

“Aye, Sir,” you confirmed with a curt nod, “Two hours, and I’ll be all yours.” 

“All mine,” his low drawl parroted back to you, the giddy chirp of his voice endearing in your ears. At the click of the receiver, you sprung immediately into action and hurried out of the office doors. 

You bid a cheery farewell to the cadets loitering in the hallway, thanking them for arranging your office, before leaving the washed-stone building of the World Government headquarters. Your smile never left your lips, the promise of meeting the man who held your romantic affections weighing heavily on your mind and fluttering harshly within the pit of your stomach. 

While bathing, cleansing your skin and hair, and ensuring every part of you was styled and scented with the sweet and sultry persona you had presented yourself to be, your thoughts turned to pondering unspoken questions. Will he enjoy the way you present yourself? Will he behave like the perfect gentleman? How should you act: the way you shamelessly speak over the den-den-mushi, or poised like a lady? Would he like this particular color on you, or on the floor beside you? 

You shook your head to rid them of the spiraling doubts, soothing over your tight dress and hooking your coat over your forearm while exiting the suite you had organized for yourself. Clicking and locking your door behind you, your eyes briefly met with Mihawks: a book tucked under his arm and wine bottle within his grasp, twirling the cork with his screw and filling his wine glass in the window. He shot you a knowing look, mouthing the words: “make him roar.”

Your cheeks flooded with the heat of scorched oil, flash point igniting in your eyes at the final utterance of support from your boss. Shaking your head, you made your way briskly to the docks. The dimly lit lamplight illuminated your path, the click of your heels tapping lightly on the solid sandstone pathway. The flap of gulls wings shepherded your final steps atop the docks, your eyes meeting with a truly unique sight you were not expecting in the least. 

In the middle of the pier stood a highly decorated marine, silver hair backlit by the radiance of the moon and standing with his wrists clenched behind his back. His beard was neatly cropped, his eyes fixed on your approach, his lips exhaling a shaky breath he prayed you didn’t notice. As your feet carried your body closer, you halted a few feet away from him, tilting your chin and pursing your lips playfully up at him. 

“Vice-Admiral,” you purred up at him seductively, your eyes wide and innocent to contradict your expression.

“Bonnie-Lass,” he gruffly commented in response, a smile painted brilliantly on his lips. A delightful shudder flew up your spine at his undistorted voice finally meeting with you. You flit your eyes hastily over him, examining his stature inquisitively - a gesture he returned with gusto, eyes hovering over your meticulously cared and styled hair and outfit. 

“May I invite ‘ye aboard, lass?” Garp’s softness in his tone pulled you in, his arms waving behind him to gesture towards his impressive ship, “I ‘kin understand if being on a ship again after so much time on the water might no’ agree with ‘ye-.”

“-I would love to see your ship, Captain,” you remarked gleefully, stepping past his arms and following his gesture to the broadwalk, “I adore sea travel, and enjoy the rocking of the waves. I find it comforting.” 

As you stepped past, your intoxicating radiance graced Garp with the aroma of your sweet perfume. The way your presence called him immediately to follow you, his feet falling in tow with your every step, was not something he ever accounted for. 

The moment your voice picked up the receiver of the den-den-mushi, Garp’s sour mood was immediately stifled under your comforting tone. The first time he called Castle Kuraigana to relay orders to the broody warlord of the sea, he was ill-prepared to be met with a tone so honey-sweet and kind. He was immediately smitten, often calling the castle with any excuse he could muster to hear more of your sweetness pouring onto him through the speaker of his den-den-mushi. 

But now you were here in person, Garp truly had no idea how to handle you. He did not know if you would allow him the luxury of holding you against himself in a warm and welcoming embrace. He did not desire to lean down and claim your lips with a kiss, only to be met with a turn of your cheek and an utterance of, “You’re too old for me,” falling from your lips. He truly did not know what to expect from you, and the unspoken anxiety was eating at his stomach and clouding his mind. 

“Garp?” you called over to him, halting your advance onto his ship and turning to face him, “Are you going to guide me along your vessel, or am I to find my own way without you?” Garp snapped his eyes to meet with yours, his winding thoughts pausing as he bore his intense gaze into you. 

“Although I do enjoy exploring new areas, I would prefer to be ushered in with the pleasure of your company,” you continued, a coy smile springing to your features, “After all the promises you made to me of the many months we’d been speaking,” you took a step back, falling closer to his larger body, “I would prefer you to keep your word.”

“And which word might that be, lass?” his gruff whisper crooned down at you, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted in desperation, “I had promised ‘ye an array of mischief, if ‘me old mind serves correct.”

“Considering I’ll be on, I’m assuming, this ship for the next few days while Mihawk completes his assignment,” you contemplated, darting your focus between his two eyes, “Would you show me to my quarters so I may send for my belongings to arrive on the morrow?” 

“All work an’ no play, lass?'' he huffed a small laugh down at you, “An’ here I thought you’d want something more playful the first time we met in person, or perhaps something a little more-...” His thoughts trailed off, his tone almost disappointed at your formal conversation. He took it as his first rejection from you, opting to not push his expectation and desires onto you should it make you uncomfortable. 

You exhaled through your nose, your smile not leaving your lips as you shook your head at him. As Garp allowed his spiraling thoughts to plague his mind, fully trapped within his misguided notion you had rejected his flirtatious advances, he didn’t feel the grip of your fingers around his teal tie until his body was thrust forward by the strength of your forearm. 

Drawing all of the power you could muster, alongside the courage you felt you needed to complete such a feat, you claimed the lips of the decorated Vice-Admiral of the marines beneath your own. You set a bruising pace, turning your head and standing yourself up on the tips of your toes to reach more of him. Your other hand found his broad chest, dropping your coat to the floor while fisting the material of his outer coat beneath your palm and cradling him closer to yourself. 

Stepping backwards onto the ship, you ushered his hulking body aboard while unbreaking from the passionate embrace. As your knees knocked with a hard benchtop behind you, you ushered the larger man to turn, forcing his body down to sit himself down on the bench. You opened your mouth, your tongue raking against his bottom lip. 

A groan fled from his lips, Garp’s needy hands grasping at your flesh over the material of your dress. Fistfulls of the material was claimed within Garp’s hands, the hemline of the material being shimmied up your thighs to grant more of your flesh to be exposed to him. He opened his mouth, allowing you to seek out his tongue to brush against your own with expert and practiced precision. 

As the material continued to ride up your body, you hooked your knees either side of his broad thighs and straddled his waist. The split side of your dress strained beneath the grasps of Garp’s hands, stretching the material harshly before your ears pricked at the harsh ‘rip’. You squeaked in Garps mouth, drawing your lips away from his with a frown.

“You tore my dress!” you exclaimed, your accusatory reprimand mixing with a hidden smile beneath your frown, “It was my favorite!” Garp paid your chastising tone no mind, peppering your neck with several, open-mouthed kisses.

“I’ll buy ‘ye twelve more,” he gasped, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh of your neck, “All the colors you desire,” he raked his teeth against your jaw, “All the patterns in the world.” You keened a small moan into the air when he found a sensitive piece of flesh between your throat and your pulse. 

His hand dipped between the material of your dress, raking his fingertips over your thigh to hold your hip only to pause while held in complete shock. 

“You’re ‘nae wearing anythin’ beneath this dress, bonnie lass,” he growled against your jaw, his teeth catching on the bone and clamping over your soft skin.

“You said it was my prerogative,” you gasped, turning your head to seek out his lips with your own, “Why do you think I wanted you to show me to my quarters, Sir?” You pressed a long and heavy kiss against his lips before tearing yourself away once more. “But it seemed as if you couldn't handle the uncertainty for a moment longer,” you kissed his whiskered cheek, “So I am improvising.” 

Garp immediately responded by raking his broad hands beneath your bare ass, barely covered by the material of your dress, hoisting you into the air and marching you throughout the corridors with heavy and intentional steps. You giggled at him, weaving your hands over his shoulders and massaging his scalp with your fingertips, and nuzzling down into his neck. You inhaled deeply, committing his cologne to memory while nipping and sucking on his exposed flesh close to his collar.

“It’s against protocol to leave visible marks above my uniform,” Garp growled, leaning his head back and exposing more of his skin to you, “If you litter my skin with any bites, I’ll see to ‘ye punishment personally.” In response to your rough, peppered kisses along his neck and bearded jaw, Garp slapped his hand on your right ass cheek before kneading it within his fingers and palm. 

“I am no marine, Garp,” you confessed, wrapping your lips around his pulse and sucking at the skin with fervor, “And I’d like to see you try.”

“Y’ell do as ‘yer bloody told, lass,” he growled, leaning away from your lips. As his eyes met with yours, he squeezed the flesh of your ass with a warning pinch. You squeaked in delight, Garp’s hearty laughter pleasantly echoing within your ears. 

“I’ll do as I bloody please, Garp,” you taunted in return, biting a crescent shaped mark against his pulse, soothing over the mark with your lips and tongue. You sucked at the mark, hearing a hitch in his breath as he continued to lead you towards the guest suites. 

Tearing your lips away, you hummed at the heart-shaped mark you pressed into his skin. It was a medal of lust, visible to all who see it - and see it, they will. Garp’s pulse was elevated further, his passionate advances leading him on with heavy and intentional steps. His boot heel kicked in the door to cabin quarters, your anticipation only growing as Garp lowered you onto the freshly made bed. 

Your back hit the plush mattress, your hair sprawling out on the sheets as he lowered his head against your neck. He pressed a few intentional kisses against your exposed flesh, his hands desperately raking over your chest to knead your breasts slowly and sensually. You sucked in a soft groan, your brows furrowing up as his thumb and index finger rolled over your puckered nipples. At your small gasp, he took it as encouragement to continue stimulating your breasts with his left hand, as his right rose the hemline of your dress over your hip. 

Hastily, you shot your hands forward, fumbling over the buckle of his belt to rid it of its hold on his pants. Just as quickly, Vice-Admiral Garp surged forward: claiming both of your wrists within his circular grip to halt your advance. You furrowed your brows as he pinned your wrists beside your head, your wide eyes meeting with his mischievous grin. 

“What are you-,” you began, silenced by a heavy and open-mouthed kiss pressed against your lips, claiming you beneath him with rough bites and soothing caresses. He groaned against your lips, leading your hands with his to wrap around his shoulders and weave into his hair once more within your fingertips. 

“Let me taste ‘ye first, bonnie,” he growled against your sensitive skin, You gasped a sigh of affirmation, nodding against his smiling lips, “Let me make it up to ‘ye for ‘me surliness earlier. Please let me have ‘ye like this.” 

Trailing open mouthed kisses down your neck, halting briefly at your breasts before trailing down your stomach; Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp made his intentions incredibly clear to you as he shimmied the line of your dress higher over your body. 

“Let me show ‘ye how much I’ve been craving the sweet call of my name from those pretty lips o’ yours,” Hooking your knees over his shoulders, he scraped his bearded chin over the sensitive inner flesh of your thighs before grazing his lips over the top of your core, “I’ll have ‘ye cryin’ and whimperin’ for me before ‘ye even see my cock.” 

He tested your sensitive flesh: flicking the tip of his tongue out to brush against your swollen clit. Immediately, your back arched up and a soft cry flew from your lips before you could stop it. Garp chuckled, looking as your pulsating core was welcoming more of his touches, giving away your arousal with a pool of your sweet essence pouring from your contracting entrance. 

“You are so beautiful, bonnie lass,” he pressed a sweet kiss against the top of your groin, his smile felt against your flesh, “And ‘ye finally all mine.” After allowing another chuckle to fall from his lips, he advanced forwards and skillfully licked a clean and expert stripe along your glistening walls. 

Vice-Admiral Garp was known for many things: His brutality in war, his aggression while training cadets, his calculated advances on the battlefield, his impossible strength, and his insatiable appetite. This appetite was now displayed to you as he hungrily and desperately lapped at your core like a man on death row, consuming his last meal while awaiting execution. The balance between savoring the flavor while horking down like a man starving had your eyes rolling back and hands fisting at his cropped hair to hold on tightly. 

“O-Oh fuck,” you cried, your eyes now tightly clamped shut as you relished in his skilled ministrations. The roll of his tongue, the mouthing of his hungry lips, had you physically quaking against his face.

“Shakin’ like a leaf, lass,” he taunted, nuzzling into your aching core, “‘ye want ‘te see what else I ‘kin do?” Your toes curled as he prodded your entrance with his tongue, his nose circling your clit and spreading your arousal throughout your core. Skillfully thrusting his tongue in and out of your desperate and delicate slit, you felt as if you were going to explode in ecstasy the moment he began vibrating his tongue with a deep, rumbling groan. 

“G-Garp. I-I don’t know if I-I can-... hnnng-... I c-can’t last m-....mmmn-... m-much longer,” you cried, your thighs clenching on his neck and shoulders to hold him in place. Your body reacted against your will, arching your back off the mattress while desperately riding his face. You felt the band winding tighter in your abdomen, each area of your body desperately shooting sparks, teetering on the edge of unravel. 

Two firm hands clapped over your thighs: one holding down your stomach and pinning you against the bed, the other kneading over your thigh. Garp pulled his face away from your needy cunt, hovering his hot breath and breathing puffs of cool air over your hole. You whimpered in desperation, wriggling against his wide-spread fingers to get any stimulus to conclude your high. 

“W-Why-,” you cried, a slap on your bare ass halting your words and having you throw your head against the pillow. 

“-Because I warned ‘ye nae t’ leave a mark on ‘me body. It’s against protocol, lass,” he chuckled, his whiskered chin scraping over your thigh as his smiling lips pressed a kiss against the outer corner of your crotch. You growled, leaning up on your elbows, staring into his eyes with a dark agitation.

“And after all those promises of making it up to me?” you spat, your nose scrunching, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Garp rose from his low position against your exposed flesh, a foreign desperation depicted in his wide eyes. 

“Were they all empty words?” you uttered. You knew, for a fact, that Vice-Admiral Garp was mad for you, but that only made you want to taunt him more, “All an act to get me to open my legs, just to leave me disappointed like the rest of them?” A stuttered gasp flew from his lips as he crawled up the bed, weaving his clothed torso through your legs to meet at eye level once again. In turn, you shimmied your body away from him, turning your face away in an attempt to hide your smile.

You knew how desperately he wanted you. The moment your lips collided with his above deck, you felt just how much he absolutely adored you. Considering he held you on the edge of ecstasy, only to pull away from you as you were about to unravel , you decided it would be more entertaining to watch him grovel for you. 

“Perhaps you were only interested in leaving a sour taste, teasing me with your pretty brogue and taunting me with your dream-like promises,” you continued, lips pouting and brows triangulating up in the center of your forehead. Garp staggered in his movement, his hands reaching out in an attempt to grasp yours, only met with you pulling away. 

“L-Lass, I didnae mean t-,” he began, halted by your melancholy sigh in an attempt to stifle a rising giggle in your chest. 

“-You said I’d beg and plead for your hands and lips to be in a few key places, if I recall correctly,” you pouted, playing into your role, “How disappointing, only having me beg and writhe beneath you to pull away at the crescendo.” 

“P-Please, lass. I’m sorry. I am a cruel, cruel man,” he confessed, claiming your left hand within his right and peppering the flesh with a flurry of kisses, “What can I do t’make it up to ‘ye, ‘me bonnie lass. Tell me,” he trailed his kisses up higher, halting at the inner flesh of your elbow, “Order me, dictate me,” he continued spreading kisses up to your shoulder, soothing over your scorching flesh, “I beg ‘ye to reconsider your withdrawal. I am ‘ye humble servant, wee bonnie.” 

Your smile broke through your pouting expression, your head snapping over to meet with his. His eyes were wide and frantic, desperate to know he had not lost you by enacting his cruel punishment. 

“Off the bed,” you ordered him, a twinkle of mischief sparking to light in your surly expression, “And strip yourself, slowly.” 

“Aye, bonnie lass,” he stumbled over his words, immediately staggering backwards and falling to the side of the bed. He began unbuttoning his overcoat and shaking it from his shoulders hurriedly, prompting a giggle to break through your practiced character. 

“I said slowly, Garp,” you purred at him, sitting up and moving your left calf along your right, “I thought you would be good at following orders, considering your title as a marine.” He halted his hasty undress, opting to silently follow your orders by unhooking the clasps of his belt and unbuttoning his pants. As the hem lay limply on his hips, he slowly popped each button of his shirt and raked his index finger along his torso to separate the fabric. 

Shamelessly following each movement with a bite of your bottom lip, you reclined on your side and encouraged him to continue with your sultry and beckoning eyes. His heart fluttered, feeling so small beneath your predatory gaze. After speaking with you for so long over den-den-mushi, and desperately seeking your approval with his choice words, he was certain he knew what to expect when he met with you.

He had never been so pleased to be proven wrong in his life. 

As he released the final button of his shirt, you clicked your tongue at him and pointed your index finger at the teal sash decorating his neck.

“The tie stays on,” you spoke through narrowed eyes, testing his resolve to follow your orders. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he peeled his shirt away from his skin - leaving the teal tie around his neck. He shimmied off the fabric before hooking his thumbs through his belt hoops, slowly pulling the material over his hips and down his muscular thighs. 

Hungrily and awestruck, you followed each taut flex of his impressive muscles: his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders, his pectorals, his abs, his thighs - nothing was hidden from your eyes as he continued to slowly undress himself before you. His head-shot from the World Government truly did not do him justice - a man dignified and refined, muscular and carved from slated marble. He was a sight to behold, and was anxious to receive your approval at each passing moment. 

Stepping away from his pants, Vice-Admiral Garp was standing before you in naught but his teal tie and tight undershorts. The growing pole to tent the center of his trousers had your mouth watering beneath your stoic and sultry expression: keeping your hand close to your chest to not reveal your desperation for him. 

“Does this please you, lass?” he whispered below his breath, the corner of his mouth ticking with his melancholy expression, “An old man far from his prime, humbling himself before the delicate flower of Kuraigana. Is this all ‘ye dreamed of?” His small sigh caught your ear, prompting your brows to furrow in deep thought. His eyes were focussed on the floor, unable and unwilling to tear them away to meet with your exploratory eyes. 

Vice-Admiral Garp was self conscious. He found himself unworthy to be at the receiving end of your interest, a fact that had become clearer and clearer the more the night flew on. 

“Take off your undershorts, Garp,” you ordered him, slowly rising to your knees on the mattress, “And lie back on the bed.” You witnessed as his cock twitched beneath his pants, a growl purring in the chasms of his chest as he hooked his thumbs around the hemline of his undergarments. 

Slowly shimmying down the elastic, his impressive cock sprang above the surface, slapping his abdomen with his shining mushroom tip on his belly. The slit was dripping with precum, the veins throbbing with anticipation while he bashfully lay his back down on the mattress. His cock stood to attention, knob throbbing while his shaft was hoisted in the air. He was neatly cropped, every follicle of his happy trail meticulously maintained down his stomach. 

Without much warning, you eagerly straddled his waist with a giggle of joy. A gasp of shock fled from his lips, followed by a huff of laughter as you eagerly threw your dress off your body and looked down at his reclined form. There was a hidden uncertainty within his eyes, a hopeful sheen sucking you within his orbs each moment you gazed into them.

“Now what, lass?” he questioned you, eyes searching yours as he reached up his palm to cradle your cheek, “You’ve got me pinned and helpless beneath your thighs. Does this please you? D-Do I-...” his voice trailed off, remaining uncertain as his eyes sought out deeper, unspoken desires within your own, “...-Do I please you?” 

You sighed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and looking down at him through half-hooded eyelashes. Your soft smile drew up over your features, a secret and hidden kiss’ shadow rising within the right-hand corner of your mouth - a place that immediately held Garp rendered defeated under your beautiful features. 

What began as mild lust had blossomed and flourished into something more sacred. Garp was indeed smitten with you, desperately wanting to both treat and tease you, but now that he had you - he was clawing at being a worthy partner for you to couple with. He knew you were beautiful, he knew you were intelligent, he knew you were wise - but he did not expect, upon meeting you in person, to be rendered helpless upon seeking your approval. 

Wordlessly, you sought out the tip of his glistening cock with your needy hole, slowly circling the knob without welcoming him fully into your walls. He gasped at the contact, surging forward to grasp at your thighs over his waist. Your arousal coated his tip, painting it with your own lust and propelling his sinful desires on further. 

“You’ll please me by letting me ride your thick cock until you can’t take it anymore,” you purred down at him, angling your lips to almost brush against his own, “You’ll please me by splitting me open and filling me up with every inch you’re willing to give me. You’ll please me-...” you leaned your torso down, your breasts brushing with his pectorals, nipples circling his own in a sultry dance as you hovered over his cock, “...-By allowing me the luxury of cumming on your cock, my pussy milking you of your thick load and splashing back onto your cock once it meets with my cervix.” 

Garp held his breath, furrowing his brows as he felt you inch down to claim his shined knob within your entrance. He focussed on the hitch of your breath, the swell of your heart rate, and the small whimper in your voice. He focussed on the twitch of your closed eyes and your parted lips as you sank further along his shaft. 

Although his appetite was insatiable, he would never rush you in adjusting to his girth and length. He relished in every stretch your walls made to accommodate his impressive size, focussing on how your brows knit together and breath hitched at every small move. He tried to hold back the twitch of his desperate cock, trying not to lose himself within the feeling of your cunt fluttering to adjust for his cock to fully sheathe itself within you. 

As the hilt of your crotch met with his, his cock disappearing within your fluttering cunt up to the brim, he finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief at being sheathed completely within you. Grinding yourself down, you suppress a strangled moan within your throat as you feel your walls adjust and accommodate to his impressive size. Testing a small movement, you inched yourself upwards and slunk down against his shaft - a sigh mirrored within Garp’s lips as he restrained himself from fucking up into you. 

You began to slowly rake your walls up, before slamming your body back down against his groin: mutual cries of bliss falling from each other's lips as you focussed on riding his cock. You hastily drew up speed, setting a rhythm that had his hips rolling beneath your own. Your mewling cries of his name were rising into the air each time you felt his knob touch the edge of your cervix. 

His hands gripped firmly against your thighs, ushering you to bob, grind and gyrate against his cock to chase your own ecstasy. Your clit brushed with the small tuft of hair remaining at the base of his shaft, stimulating the small bud each time you drew yourself down to his crotch. 

He stared up in disbelief at the way your body responded to him. He was mesmerized at each whimper of your voice, each flutter of your eyelashes, and each slam of your aching cunt welcoming his throbbing cock within his walls. He couldn’t get enough: you were intoxicating and addictive with each writhe against him. 

Your rhythm began to get more stuttered, your body responding to the elevation of your ecstasy. Your walls began to thump against him, wringing his cock and clamping down on it as your approaching orgasm began to shudder against his shaft. His breath hitched, his own brow furrowing as he felt every pulse within your walls ushering him into his own bliss. 

As you continued to grind against him, Garp struggled to hold back against his own desires of flipping you over and stapling his hips against your own by railing your body into the plush mattress below. He did not want to destroy his good standing with you by completing such a lewd act, reacting in penance from drawing himself away from cumming into his awaiting lips, and simply chose to take each moment you gave him as a gift. 

The flutter of your cunt began squeezing his shaft, the sensitive spongy underside of your clit meeting with his knob propelling you further in the release of your incoming ecstasy. Your whimpers and cries of his name falling freely from your lips had both Garp’s cock and heart swell in pride that his body was granting you such bliss.

“G-Garp, I-I’m gonna-...” you called, clenching your eyes shut as you continued to gyrate and grind down against his cock. 

Garp’s iron will snapped, immediately hooking his arms around your waist and tackling you against the bedsheets. He caged you beneath him, plowing greedily into your shuddering walls with an eager snap of his hips. You shrieked in shock, your ecstasy being ushered in further by Garp stampeding you both towards your ends with a heavier and more controlled rhythm.

Each heavy rake of his cock within your cunt had his balls slapping against your puckered ass. At this new angle, you cried out, desperately clawing at his back and shoulders to draw him in closer to you. 

He hoisted your knee over his hip, latching his lips onto your neck and sucking a deep, angry, mark into your porcelain flesh. You cried for him, every ounce of your flesh ignited by the sparks of untamed ecstasy as you thrust your hips upwards to meet with every sharp snap of his rhythmic hips. 

“Cum for me,” he purred at you in a gruff growl, “Cry out my name.” His rhythm began to weigh heavier with each deep thrust, heavier and heavier with every staggered slam of his hips. “I want the entire base t’ know I’m makin’ ‘ye feel good. Want ‘ye fookin’ boss t’ know you’re becoming unraveled by my thick cock, ‘me bonnie lass.” 

At the mention of your boss: Mihawk’s verbal warning of having Garp cry your name in bliss echoed back to you. In a final ditch effort of having Garp cry out for you, you latched your lips onto the mark you created a few hours prior and teased the flesh with your teeth and tongue. Garp knit his brows, growling through yelping barks below his breath at how truly good you made him feel. 

“O-Ohh f-fuck, Garp. I-I’m-... ahh-... I’m c-cumming,,” you called, clawing and gnawing at his flesh like a lifeline anchoring you to the earth. He sucked in a breath feeling the twitch of his end spurting the first few moments of his orgasm within your walls. As much as he desired to pull away from your eager cunt to not risk his seed finding purchase within your walls - he simply could not help himself. He immediately began plowing harsher into you, his cock spurting his cum within you like a valve turning to release hisses of pent-up pressure. 

His voice became elevated with each staggered thrust, each subtle whimpered cry of his name coinciding with you grinding and writhing beneath him to chase your mutual highs. At one final bite of his flesh, and a particularly harsh snap of his hips, the two of you began experiencing the first realms of joint ecstasy.

“F-Fuck bonnie lass, I cannae pull out,” he roared your name, gyrating and pumping his seed deep within your cunt: splashing back spurts of his load within your needy, throbbing cunt. 

“D-Don’t you dare t-try,” you scolded him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he chased his orgasm within you. The walls of your pussy began contracting against his thick cock, shepherding him into releasing hot ropes of sticky cum within your eager walls. For every thump of your walls, you were granted by a spurt of his release within them - milking him of every fiber of his essence. 

As you both rode through your highs, the hums of your voices and gasps of your breath caught up with you. He snapped his hips forward, remaining sheathed within your glistening walls, as he raked his fingers through your hair. Your strands stuck against your forehead, your pupils blown with lust as you gulped back another cry of ecstasy as his cock throbbed within you. You sobbed, hiding your forehead against his chest as you attempted to come down from your high. 

Taking a moment to each gulp in oxygen to fill your lungs, Garp rolled from caging you beneath him, unsheathing his cock from within your pussy slowly. He looked down at your entrance, watching as it clenched to chase his retreat from your body with an eagerness he was yet to witness in some time. You were a masterpiece, a body unraveled and glistening within the realms of the afterglow in unbridled lust. He adored you. 

“You alrigh’, lass?” he asked you quietly, his lips grazing your temple as your lungs refilled with oxygen. You smiled up at him, eyes closing while your body chased his lips to feel his wired whiskers against your skin longer. You hummed at him, rolling over to your side and grazing his chest with your open hands. 

“Never better, Garp,” you cooed back at him, feeling your energy supply depleting the longer you remained comfortably within his arms. He cradled you against himself, feeling the soft song of slumber calling to him each moment you remained nestled against him. 

“And what of t’morrow?” Garp asked, his brow cocking up at the corner while he fought to keep his eyes open, “‘Ye got duties to attend, I’m sure.” 

“Dracule Mihawk has allowed me the luxury of a few days' shore leave,” you confessed, sleepily, “I don’t think I’ll be returning to my station any time soon, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, bonnie lass. It’s Garp, remember?” he cooed down at you, shimmying his body down to locate the plush duvet and nestling you both beneath it, “When you’re with me, it’s always Garp.”

“Alright, Garp,” you purred up at him, eyes hooded and feeling serenaded by sleep, “Will you stay by me tonight? Show me you still want me in the morning?” He huffed out a breath of disbelief, cradling you further against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest assured, Bonnie Lass,” the rumbling drawl of his voice cooed down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair and smoothing over each strand, “I will still want you every morning.” 

Both of your warm smiles clung to your cheeks as you fell into the arms of sleep, feeling calm and at peace while clinging to one another. You had never been so pleased to be relieved of duty, your legs and body remaining blissfully numb by being plowed into by Garp’s throbbing cock. 

An apology for his rough actions came in the form of caging your hips against his face, his arms weaving over your thighs, and him welcoming you to ride his head until your voice grew hoarse from the sheer number of times he had you cry his name on his eager tongue. Enthusiastically lapping at your glistening cunt with the fervor of a man being granted the feast of a lifetime, he refused to part his lips from your glistening walls until you violently shook with a scream of his name.

When riding down your high and sobbing through your ecstasy, you looked down at his eager eyes: twinkling with mischief. Upon meeting his gaze, he kissed your thigh and cooed up at you: “Just one more? One last time before I let you go, ‘me wee bonnie lass?” for the fifth time that morning. After all, his appetite truly was insatiable.

[ssinboo]

It's Always been Us

summary: After your unplanned confession, you avoid Seungkwan until an unexpected issue brings you to contact him. When you finally get in touch, secrets are revealed.

Part 3 of As it Was

pairing: Middle School Teacher! Reader x Entertainer!Seungkwan

word count: 16.5k (1h~ read)

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of past trouble, unprotected sex, background character cheating, creampie, body worship, dry humping, minor mentions of exhibitionism, so many spicy scenes.

A/N: AND IT'S OVER!!!! thank you so much, everyone!

“This is Boo Seungkwan, I’m not available right now, leave a message after the beep.”

Beep.

“Hey— Uh, I know we haven’t spoken in a while but— Can you please call me back?”

Beep.

“Seungkwan. Look. I— I know I suck, but can you, please, just call me back?”

Beep.

“Hey, It’s me again… I haven’t heard anything from you… Is everything OK? Please, call me.”

Beep.

“Look— I know it was wrong of me to give you the cold shoulder, but this is serious, I mean it— You need to call me back.

Beep.

“I’m sorry— Look, I— Can you please, just call me? I really need to talk to you.”

Fresh-faced and well-groomed, Seungkwan exhales wealth as he trudges through the crowded streets he grew up in. A far-cry from his fresh-faced youth, he attracts curious look standing in an expensive, tailored suit draped over his slender figure, with matching accessories and a trusty pair of branded sunglasses.

Usually, he’d stop at his mum’s, bother his sisters and nephews for a bit, deliver gifts and stories of his big-city living. But today, your house is the first stop in his itinerary and, if everything goes right, it might just be the last for today.

Knocking on the door, he adjusts himself, fixing his blazer and hair. His heart pounds incessantly against his ribs and his clammy palms are wiped against his trousers in the hopes of lessening nervousness. In his breast pocket, there is a small velvet box that lays heavier than its real weight ever could.

The door swings open, prompting him to put on his nicest smile, only to be met with his second sister’s unsightly frown, she assesses his posture.

“Ah, you’re here,” She announces in a flat voice, no excitement whatsover. Usually, he would make hell over anything, but today, he has pressing matters at hand. He had mentioned in passing he would be flying home soon, but his sister’s presence in your home still remained unexplained — not that he cared, right now.

“Is— Is she here?” Gesturing inside, Seungkwan stumbles over his words. His sister nods and steps aside, allowing him to finally cross the threshold of your place, somewhere in the other room, he can hear your soft footsteps and clumsy banging of pots and pans; his heart races faster.

“Why are you here?” He finally asks,

Unbothered, she replies with a deep sigh, “So she wouldn’t run away before you got here.”

“Who’s at the door?”

It’s your voice he hears, always sweeter than he remembered. The moment it touches his ears, his throat closes up like it never has before. He stretches his neck and inhales all the courage he muster up.

“Someone you hate,” His sister jokes, immediately reaching for her bag and keys.

“What?” He can hear you question, pitter-patter of bare feet closer and closer. He almost turns around to stop his sister from leaving, suddenly overwhelmed with his nerves.

That is until he sees you.

“Seungkwan?” It comes out as a whisper, you doubt your own eyes but the name flows naturally past your tongue.

Seungkwan freezes in place, the bouquet in his hand — your favourite flowers, — slip from his grasp and meet an undeserving fate on the ground.

Had it been anyone else, the bump protruding against your loose tee would’ve remained unseen; uncared for. But Seungkwan knew your body inside and out, he knew every nook and cranny, every beauty spot and scar. Countless nights were spent ravishing your very essence over and over, learning and teaching you about yourself.

Okay, maybe you had gained a little weight, he wasn’t one to judge, not when you looked absolutely stunning — Though he did seem biased. But you cradled that bump with so much care, it couldn’t be anything else.

Eyes widened in sheer terror, you immediately remove your hands from your stomach, sending them flying behind your back in shame. But it’s too late.

He knows the truth.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” His sister announces much to your disdain. Before you can protest, she just grabs her things and leaves.

There’s silence.

Unnerving, immovable, silence that wraps its cold tendrils around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter with every passing second.

Looking at his face resurfaces plenty emotions; rage, relief, hatred, confusion, but there is so much love still; you realise, that despite it all, there is still love. Seems you are really cursed to love him.

Seungkwan is similarly shell shocked, though for different reasons. Beautiful hands hanging by his side, those gorgeous lips you love so much are agape as he stares at you: betrayed.

“Are you…?”

The question trails off and it hangs awkwardly in the couple feet between you, every syllable stumbling to the ground. He doesn’t need to finish it, you both know what he’s talking about.

You nod.

“Is it—“ He gulps, swallowing down the excruciating thought that perhaps you had found someone else. “Is it mine?”

Offended, you scoff, holding back the rage that sits at your tongue. You nod.

You were pregnant with his child.

He almost lets out a sigh of relief, releasing a breath he never realised was held. And then his eyes glaze over with unshed tears: hurt.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a broken up whisper, cradled in pain and betrayal and it disappears in the air, small and so, so tender.

For a split second, you feel guilty. Looking at his glossy eyes that shine so beautifully, you’re overcome with an overwhelming urge to comfort him. But you are met with the rest of your unaddressed emotions. The ungodly amount of rage you have been shoving down every time you think about him.

“Didn’t tell you?!” Your voice trembles as you raise your tone, finally pouring out everything, “Seungkwan, I fucking called you for a month— I messaged you, I called you— I did everything!” You take a step forward, fingers tightly woven into a fist, fingernails painfully digging into your palms, “You didn’t call me back. You never did! You threw me away.”

Your words are painful. Not to you as much as it is to him. You feel some relief, finally getting closure.

But Seungkwan is floored, every words hanging heavy on the pit of his stomach, coercing acid but never allowing themselves to be fully digested; no. They hang around past their welcome, scratching at his insides until they are a bright shade of inflamed red.

You think he threw you away. How could you think that? After you left just like that and never called ba— Oh.

It’s only then, realisation settles like a bucket of ice cold water poured over your back. Seungkwan runs his fingers over his face with a quiet whisper of “Shit…”

“Yeah. Shit.” You cross your arms over your chest, in the hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“No— Look—, Do you remember my PR manager?”

Still somewhat angry, you side-eye him, “Yeah, she fucking hates me.”

“Turns out she hated me, too,” He says, taking a step to close the distance between you, “It’s a long story— I fired her and she retaliated, got rid of my phone, laptop, locked me out of my social media accounts, I just got access to my accounts this week, but my phone is gone.”

Your eyes soften with the soft threading of hope. You want to believe him, to know it wasn’t on purpose, to know you hadn’t been abandoned. A part of your wants to grasp at any explanation, just take it without questioning. Anything is better than being thrown aside.

But you have grown to realise over the years that although the pain is unbearable, tomorrow still comes.

You were owed an explanation. A true, believable reason for everything you went through after all the missed calls and radio-silence.

For once, you needed him to be there.

A year ago, you would’ve been content with your situationship, but now you’ve got someone else to care for. A little someone that will need stability.

“I begged you to call me. You never did.” Your voice is so broken by the pain, he wants to pick up the pieces and softly put them back together. There’s an emotion that hurts him more than your pain: Acceptance.

You would be okay with his absence.

Oh, he wouldn’t manage. The very thought of it drove him insane.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything,” He brings his hands together, eyebrows furrowed together.

You just look at him, unsure how to proceed. How to process all the emotions that hadn’t even been acknowledged until a minute ago.

With a heavy sigh, you close your eyes. “Have you eaten?”

Seungkwan smiles, beautiful eyes bathed in hope, in adoration, “I haven’t.”

“I’ll fix you up something.”

It’s weird, sitting in your kitchen, awkwardly fidgeting with his suit while you bang pots and pans, heating up leftovers from lunch. His plan has gone to absolute shit and he’d just found out somewhat accidentally about his own future.

Seungkwan stands up in search of cutlery to set the table with, something to do with himself. He smiles at the fact that everything remains in the same place since last time he’d been here.

You turn off the knobs on your stove and turn around to find a silicone mat lest you burn your table; it was good, solid, oak and you took great care of it. Your cooking smells good, it always does.

You’re the first to sit down, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. He follows shortly after, making no ceremony of filling up his plate.

“When did you lose your phone?” You break the silence, chewing on your lower lip; Your eyes refuse to meet his.

Half-bite, he answers, “I think like a month after we saw each other?”

“Why didn’t you contact me before today?” Your voice cracks, you wish it hadn’t. You wish you had composure when standing before the man you love.

Seungkwan sighs, putting down his plate, debating on telling you the truth or white lies. The reason he avoided contact was simple; he wanted to be better, to be fully better, before seeing you again. No messes for you to clean, he wanted to be someone worthy.

“I— I wasn’t sure…” It’s a half-truth.

“Sure of what?” You finally look at him, trembling hands clasped together over your lap.

He dodges any eye contact, pulling at his eggs with the chopsticks. Seeing your expression would be enough to destroy any courage left, “What could I have said?” It’s the truth.

“Anything!” You raise your voice, slamming your hands against the table, which you immediately regret once the pain travels over your aching palms.

It’s enough to get a reaction out of him. His brows furrow, and with a scoff, he lets his chopsticks fall onto his plate, “What?! After you left like that? You didn’t even say goodbye— You just—“ He stops himself, gulping down any resentment.

You’re caught.

The subject you evaded like the devil from the cross comes back to bite.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You look away, chest heaving under your nerves.

Seungkwan softens his voice, trying a different approach, “We have to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to!” He can see how much you’re shaking, clasping your hands together in the hopes he won’t notice. So he leaves the subject alone, despite its persistence on eating him up from the inside.

Suddenly taken by hunger, you huff, grabbing a bowl and stuffing your face.

Against his better judgement, he smiles, watching your cheeks round around your mouthful of food.

“What?” You ask accusingly.

“Nothing,” Seungkwan shakes his head with a soft smile plastered over his pretty lips. He clears his throat before asking. “When did you find out about it?”

It’s first time either of you acknowledge the situation since earlier.

“A month ago.”

He sighs. Trying his best to imagine how desperate and utterly abandoned you must’ve felt.

“Do you know what is it?”

You shrug, shaking your head

“Do you—“ He tries his best to gather words that will communicate his thoughts, “Do you want it?”

Your neck snaps toward him, cheeks round with food as you glare. “Stop saying ‘it’.”

“Sorry—“ He corrects himself, “Do you want the baby?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

It’s weird how relieved he feels, if anyone had asked him a week ago how he felt about becoming a father he’d say no. But it’s a tempting scenario. A luring future of white picket fence and a couple of kids who looked like you.

But terrifying all at the same time.

You chew on your lip, playing with the tablecloth, “Do— Do you?”

Seungkwan looks up from his plate, surprised.

Your eyes are so intent on him, his every expression. You hadn’t held much hope since the unanswered calls, but this sudden visit, the fact that for once, he is here. It toys with your emotions, dangles your every dream in front your very eyes.

“It’s your choice…” He whispers.

Not satisfied, you press further. “Do you want to be a father?”

It’s a slap to the face, a forceful acknowledgement of the situation and his own feelings toward it. Did he actually want this?

It was a known fact that more often than not, denying fatherhood came easy for men; Say you don’t want to be a part of it, sign away your rights and fuck off to live your life unbothered.

Despite the choice being there, Seungkwan couldn’t fathom even considering leaving everything behind. A whole life created between the two of you with the perfect mix of your features. The word ‘Fatherhood’ felt too heavy on his tongue.

“…Yes.” Seungkwan answers, surprising not only you but himself, as well. “Yes, I want to be a father and— I want to be a part of the baby’s life… Will you let me?”

But he wanted it all. Sleepless nights, stinky diapers, colic, teething. He wanted to be a part of this child’s life.

He anxiously awaits your response to his confession, watches how your eyes widen, glossy with the imminent threat of stubborn tears and how your lips wobble.

You smile, relived, nodding.

Since your failed attempts to communicate with Seungkwan, you had somewhat given up on having the father of your child be present; Especially with how avoidant of commitment he always presented himself to be.

Ever since he left for the big city, Seungkwan always brushed off relationships as flings, never lived in one place too long, failed to settle down anywhere. It’s hard, believing his words.

But you’re nothing if not a fool for him.

Seungkwan smiles. Standing up, letting the chair bounce with the sudden movement, he kneels on the tiled floor in front of you.

His hands, his long, slender fingers find your own, enveloping your palms in his unending warmth. His touch is so delicate, yet so comforting. You didn’t even realise just how much you’ve missed holding his stupid pretty hands.

Blame it on the hormones how you completely break down into an ugly, crying, mess and fold onto his shoulders.

Without a word, he comforts you with soft pats until your sobbing ceases into soft sighs. Though, his legs might give up any time now from kneeling on kitchen tile.

“Let’s get married,” He whispers and as soon as the words leave his lips, his heart skips the next couple of beats in anticipation.

“What?” Hoarsely, you sniffle, raising your head to face him.

“Let’s get married, move to Seoul… Let’s raise the baby together.” There’s a dumbfounded smile plaguing his face, he can only imagine how happy you will be to know that he’s finally ready to be in a true, loving relationship.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No.”

You watch his smile crack and shatter, he watches you face for any sign of jest, hoping you’d break into a smile and say “just kidding”. But you don’t. And you seem just as confused as he is.

You said you loved him.

Had you feelings changed in the matter of the three months you hadn’t talked? Was he not good enough?

He couldn’t understand why would you refuse his proposal.

“What?” Finally, his knees give up on him, wobbling until he falls to his butt, sitting on the cool tiled floor, though it seems almost warm compared to the coldness that washes over the pit of his stomach. “Why not?”

Your eyes don’t meet him, you wipe your nose and face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I— I don’t understand why— Why you’re asking me that—“ You stumble over your words.

“We’re having a baby! It’s the obvious next step!” Seungkwan exclaims, as a matter of fact.

“No?” You shrug, “I’m not marrying you because you knocked me up!”

“Why not?!”

“People should marry out of love!” You explain, “Not just have a shotgun wedding, it never works out—! I don’t wanna be the girl you married because of the birth control fail rate!”

“Don’t you love me?”

His voice is such a broken whisper, so quiet and soft, almost as if accidental.

Your eyes finally meet his and your throat hurts with weight of the three letter confession, but you gulp it down, hoping your stomach acid will dissolve your unrequited feelings.

“Not enough to put my child through a loveless marriage.”

He stands up on shaky legs, wiping his hands on his jeans. Eyes refusing to meet yours lest he shed a single tear.

No, he wouldn’t cry, not in front of you.

Wiping his hands across his face, he lets out a heavy sigh and the very sound of the aftermath of such a heated discussion is enough to bring you to tears. Part of him aches to comfort you, to wrap his arms around your body and nuzzle against your neck. His hands itch to reach and hold you until your tears are gone, to whisper sorry over and over, until you take him back. But his pride boils his blood hotter than any wish of affection could.

“I’ll be at my mum’s.”

It’s all he says before he leaves and once the front door slams shut with a deafening ‘Bang’, you crumble to the cold floor, quietly sobbing into your hands.

It’s well past midnight by the time Seungkwan hears a somewhat familiar ‘thud’ on his window pane. The moon stands proud in the darkened sky, illuminating his childhood bedroom. He crawls out of bed, already missing the warmth of his duvet, and approaches the source of the noise with some caution, expecting an animal.

But once he pulls up the frosty glass, he sees you standing on his backyard, rocking back and forth on your feet, a large jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Once you spot him, you flash a wide smile, lifting the one hand that doesn’t hold a dangerously large rock to wave.

Confused at your reasoning to be here, Seungkwan gestures wildly at his non-existent wristwatch. You just flip him off with a roll of your eyes and gesture for him to meet you at the door.

He scrambles to find his coat and not wake up his mother, a flashback of his teenage years.

How many times did you throw rocks at his window in the middle of the night or vice-versa. He always complained about how you were such a ‘bad influence’ but never once refused to meet you past midnight. You’d sneak out and fool around while the Sun was still down. And he would quietly sneak back in just as the Sun started to peak from the horizon.

Once the front door is safely shut and he’s sure that his mother isn’t up from the ruckus. He immediately turns to you.

“What the hell are you thinking?! It’s freezing out here!” He whisper-yells, wrapping the spare coat around your shoulders and throwing the scarf onto your face.

It smells strongly of his cologne; You inhale, letting the scent surround your lungs and flow through your veins, fill your bloodstream with his essence.

“I’m really craving convenience store food,” You speak out so meekly, your eyes hazy with sleep and nose tingling in the cold night air. Any other strong words he had conjured walking downstairs die on his tongue at the sight of your soft smile.

“You’re paying,” It’s a truce.

You smile excitedly, adjusting the scarf around your neck.

That convenience store just a street down from his childhood home had been the set for many his teenage adventures. Every poorly kept wall and crack in the concrete held cherished memories of your youth. The food hadn’t changed in the decades passed, yet it still beat any three-star restaurant he made a show of dining in.

You fill the basket with junk food, happily swaying back and forth under the blinking fluorescents. Seungkwan scoffs at your happiness over instant-noodles.

He pays and you grab your things, finding a place to sit while he prepares the noodles.

You’re snacking on chips when he returns with the noodles, practically throwing them down on the counter before he blows at his fingertips. You giggle at his misfortune.

“Should we talk?” You ask, chowing down on your food, moaning at its divine taste.

Seungkwan tuts at your happiness. He’d taken you to expensive restaurants before, wined and dined you into five-star hotels. But somehow, these soggy noodles tasted better than anything else.

“It’s fine,” He says.

You hum.

He notices how you cradle your bump when you eat.

You did it earlier, too, when he was at your place.

“Is the baby happy?” He asks, eyes focused on his food.

You break into a wide smile, “Mhm, very happy.”

You’re unable to see his face, but you see his cheeks rounded into a gorgeous smile.

Suddenly, seeming to remember something, you hum. “I had to give you this,” You speak with your mouth full which causes Seungkwan to scowl with a disgusted face.

He watches you fumble with your jacket pocket until you pull out a crumbled, tiny, piece of paper. You hand it to him.

It’s a sonogram.

A blurry, black and white, mess of pixels that he can’t help but be weirdly attached to immediately.

There’s such a warm smile on your face when you lean onto his shoulder, pointing at the picture.

“Here’s the little feet… Here’s the head…”

Unknowingly, he reaches his pointer finger to touch that teeny tiny blurry head.

“It’s a shitty photo,” His voice cracks and he doesn’t hide it well.

You’re giggling, and it’s a comforting, lovely sound, “It’s not so bad.”

“Do you think they’ll look like me?” He asks in a quiet whisper filled with wonder.

“Oh, I hope not, the poor thing,” You tease, earning an annoyed hiss.

“They’d be lucky when the other option is looking like you,” Laughing at his quip, you lean over his shoulder, daydreaming about the looks of your baby.

Leaving the convenience store, you munch on a corn dog, swaying your hands in the breeze. The next stop comes naturally, the nearby playground where you spent most of your nightly escapades during your teenage years.

“What do you think it’s gonna be?” He asks, taking one of the unoccupied swings.

You follow suit, sitting on swing. “I don’t know,”with a shrug, you return his question, “What do you think?”

“I haven’t thought about it…”

Humming, you focus on your corndog. “I might find out next appointment, if the baby doesn’t decide to close their little legs.”

He perks up so adorably, “When is your next appointment?”

“Next week,” You reply and he quietly ponders just how will he manage to sneak in. “You’re gonna be there, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Seungkwan says nonchalantly, but hides a beaming smile behind his right hand.

There’s a couple minutes of silence, though you don’t feel compelled to speak. You just sit there, rocking back and forth and enjoying this peaceful moment.

“How far along are you?” It’s a shy question, one he thinks he should’ve known, as the father.

“Sixteen weeks,” it’s such an automatic answer you don’t even question it until you can hear his soft murmurs as he counts on his fingers just how many months that is.

“Four months?”

“Mhm,” You reply, taking the last bite of your snack.

“Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, bigger?”

You laugh, “I just started showing last week.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, you could feel my stomach was more rigid than flabby but at a glance no one could tell.”

“Does it feel hard?"

“A bit?” You stand up and walk to where he’s sitting, “Here, feel it.” Seungkwan puts his feet down, ceasing any movement from the swing and wraps his hands around your bump. It’s weird, having someone touch your stomach. In fact, aside from your doctor, he was the first to do so.

You watch him look at your belly like it were his everything; his caramel eyes hold so much adoration. There’s stubborn hope that burns in your heart that, maybe, if you have him by your side, everything will be okay.

On the day of your appointment, Seungkwan accompanies you to the clinic, rushed whispers and fake stories told to his mother about his whereabouts. If it were up to him, he’d announce it to the world but you still feared that his fear of commitment would rear its ugly head and you would end up alone once again.

You’d messaged the receptionist, asking for some discretion during your appointment, however, you did notice some whispering coming from the nurses about TV comedian Boo Seungkwan’s appearance at an OB-GYN clinic.

He is annoyingly lovely, reassuring you over and over that it’s okay, he’s told his manager about it and things will be handled. Which in hindsight is somewhat terrifying that his manager knows about your pregnancy before the baby’s own grandparents.

Called into the office and free from the judgement-heavy waiting room, you rush inside, shedding your cardigan and laying on the bed. You’re practically a pro at this while Seungkwan struggles with the best ways how to hold your purse and coat.

He even looks surprised at how brazenly you unbutton your trousers and pull them out of the way.

Your doctor, a lovely middle-aged lady and mother of one of your students, is very glad to see you and quite puzzled at Seungkwan’s presence. She, however, is more than willing to explain the process and answer his every question, no matter how stupid or how many times he’s asked it in the past half hour.

“Everything alright?” She asks, spreading the cold gel along your skin. You never did get used to that goopy, gross feeling.

You nod and she turns on the large monitor sitting above the bed. Seungkwan stands almost a foot away from the bed, clinging to your belongings, sneakily rearing his head toward the monitor.

“This is the head,” She announces, holding the image still as she takes a screenshot for later. “Development is looking nice, mum.” She smiles before correcting herself, “…And dad.”

You giggle at how weird it sounds to be referred to as a parent just yet.

It’s not long before the room is filled with that muffled thump-thump sound you’d recorded and played over and over the past couple of months.

Seungkwan worriedly looks at you.

You smile at his dumbfounded, worried expression.

“That’s their heartbeat,” She tells Seungkwan, still enjoying the amazement of first-time parents even after so many years.

“Come closer,” You urge.

And he does so, standing by your side and staring up at that big monitor, watching the blurry grey blob move around. That muffled, almost wet sounding constant thump seems to make his own heart pound faster.

Seungkwan had somewhat come to term about being a parent; keyword being somewhat. It’s something to be told about it, even seeing the pregnancy tests you held onto as a keepsake. But hearing this baby’s beating heart, seeing them move around in that screen, it felt so tangible.

And a lot scarier, too.

“Heartbeat is nice and steady,” You smile at her announcement.

You glance at Seungkwan, who promptly hides his face, shaking away the stubborn tears that threaten to be shed. Fuck these hormones, they’re the ones to blame at how emotional that scene made you.

“Seems like baby is cooperating today,” The doctor comments and you laugh, “Wanna find out the gender?”

Biting at your lips, you glance at Seungkwan. It’s the first time you’ve included him during this visit. And it’s his first time giving his opinion on such an important matter.

“Do you want to?” He returns the question.

“Your sister said I should have a party,” You grimace thinking about parading around and having people all over you.

He shrugs, “We could… But do you want to?”

“I don’t know?!”

“We can tell a trusted family member or we can wait until you are ready to find out, it will be on your chart, so when you’re ready, just give us a call.” The doctor explains, hoping it will make your choice easier.

Once again, you glance at him.

“It’s your choice,” He says.

“But what do you want?”

He thinks. “It’d be nice to have a get-together with the family, we can have a barbecue, nothing too fancy.”

When he put it like that, it sounded so tempting but maybe you were just hungry.

“I’d like to have a family member know, please,” You tell the doctor.

She smiles, “Alright, I can give you an envelope with the results, is that okay?”

You nod.

The rest of the appointment goes smoothly. Your stomach is growling so loudly you don’t even bother asking Seungkwan if he wants a ride home, you just drag him to your car and drive off to the nearest restaurant. Not that he has any complaints — He’s worked quite the appetite and many questions need answers.

You’re seated rather quickly and given menus.

“What do you want to eat? My treat,” It’s a sort of apology for dragging him out here.

Seungkwan looks at the menu, “I think I’ll take the carbonara,” He hums, “Wait, do you have any food that will make you throw up?”

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“In the movies you know someone is pregnant because they run out of the room to throw up.”

Oh, he’s 100% serious about this and you push down the part of you that finds it adorable.

You laugh, “No, I don’t. That’s usually on the first trimester… I actually didn’t get very nauseous, just very hungry.”

He hums in understatement. “Are you sure that was the baby and not just you?”

You ball up a napkin and throw at him.

Once the order is placed, the waiter leaves and you’re both left at the booth flipping through your respective phones.

“Do you think your sister can help us with the gender reveal?” You ask, finally putting your phone down.

“Yeah,” He nods, “When are you thinking?”

“I don’t know… I’ll start really showing soon, I want the cat out of the bag.”

The waiter returns with your drinks.

“Have you told your mum?” You ask, thinking that it should be okay. It’s only his family, they should know.

Seungkwan smiles. “Not yet…”

“She can’t find out at the party. You need to tell her beforehand.”

“I got it.”

“That reminds me, my family kind of doesn’t know you’re a part of it now…” You approach the subject quietly. “They may or may not hate your guts for not being here for me.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded until he breaks out into laughter.

“Goddammit.”

“What?! It’s not my fault!” You defend yourself, using the straw to toy with the floating ice cubes swimming in your orange juice.

“You could’ve told them!”

With a sigh, you admit defeat. “I’ll tell my family when you tell your mum.”

He’s fully ready to counterattack your jabs but is interrupted by the food, much to your pleasure.

You practically devour your food and leave no room for dessert, instead opting to buy something sweet after you’ve digested your lunch – you found your baby had a sweet tooth and you always craved a little sugary treat. You pay for the food and Seungkwan drives you home to plan a party.

Seungkwan’s sisters had been a Godsend. They helped with every step of the way and planned the entire gender reveal party — Which wasn’t as much of a party as it was a family barbecue.

All you needed to do was just show up and cut up the cake to reveal the gender of your baby.

You just started to really show, a protruding round little bump that poked its way through your every clothing, no matter how baggy. Seungkwan was the first to point out just how evident it became.

The guests wore a mix of pink and blue. You wearing blue yourself, a very strong believer that your midnight kicker is a little boy.

Meanwhile, the baby’s father completely disagrees, sporting his baby pink button-up.

Seungkwan hovers around you the whole day, a pleasant surprise. You’d been nervous about putting the news out there. Despite it making its way through the grapevine and rumours floating through the spaces you frequented, no one was really sure. It was finally time to rip out the band-aid and make the news public.

Though you insisted he hung a bit farther lest people he realise about the paternity, he showed no intents of doing so. He waited on you hand and foot, bringing as many cupcakes as your little bean wished for. It seemed that the past weeks spent together had given Seungkwan an awakened sixth sense, he could always guess what your baby craved and was more than willing to fetch the item, no matter how gross.

When it was finally time to cut the cake and find out, he was insistent on being at your side, guiding your knife-cradling hand — Part of it just pushing it away from himself. You did warn him about family posting it online and the fact that this could blow out of proportion, but he just reassured you again and again.

Most of the family has their phones out, recording the moment with bated breath. You can barely breathe yourself.

The knife slides in, cutting through soft icing.

You close your eyes, relying completely on Seungkwan to guide you. The knife comes back up and goes back in for the second cut.

Seungkwan hands you the spatula and helps you lift the cake slice up and into the vision of everyone around.

The spectators burst into cheer.

You still haven’t got half a mind to look down.

“A baby girl,” He whispers into your ear and your eyes flash open.

Putting the cake down before you fling off the yard, you immediately throw yourself onto his arms, a choked sob escaping your lips, “We’re having a girl!”

He kisses your hair and hides his red face from the camera, not willing to have his teary-eyed expression so eternal.

Once the adrenaline slows down, you tear your way through the cake, sitting far away from the commotion. Seungkwan is at your side, an arm resting behind you.

“Congrats!”

The male voice almost isn’t enough to tear away the undivided attention you’ve been giving to your piece of cake, but Seungkwan’s bewildered expression piques your interest.

You look up from your plate.

And there he is; Kwon Soonyoung, a high-school buddy of yours. He was a rowdy kid, fun to party with but not much else. He had a hard time knowing when to quit. You wonder just why he had been invited until you remember his mum is your mum’s neighbour.

“Thanks,” You hum, still occupied with your food.

“A baby, huh?”

“Yup.”

“You never mentioned anything about getting married in the reunion… I was surprised,” He beats around the bush, raising a curious eyebrow. Seungkwan scoffs at his very obvious actions.

“I’m not married,” You reply, not really paying attention.

He lifts an eyebrow, “Must have your hands full, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Soonyoung clears his throat.

“How far along are you?”

“Twenty weeks.”

Seungkwan watches him count on his fingers. You poke Seungkwan and nudge at his arm with your empty plastic plate, which you had done about twice this afternoon. He sighs and rolls his eyes, but gets up regardless.

“Wow, that’s really far along…”

You nod, no longer having your food to be entertained with.

“C-Can I feel it?”

God, you hate that question. But at least he asked instead of just shoving his grimy hands on your stomach. He’s lucky you’re in a good mood, you’ve had old ladies patting your growing belly all day, what’s another one? It was a special occasion.

“Sure.”

Soonyoung is very amazed, he keeps ooh’in and aah’ing, rubbing your bump over the fabric of your shirt for a bit too long. Usually old ladies would just touch your belly, feel your baby kick and make a comment or two on how healthy your child will be.

Seems like your baby girl is having none of it, either since she has seized any and all movement since Soonyoung approached. You don’t hide your discomfort.

Seungkwan comes back, plate and drink in hand. He’s so weirded out by the scene, you barely hold back a laugh at the sight of his scrunched up face, Soonyoung still, doesn’t realise anything else.

“The fuck you doing?”

Soonyoung jumps at the harsh words. “I’m just feelin’ her, man.”

Seungkwan side-eyes your unimpressed expression. You let Soonyoung coo at your stomach for another five seconds before you’ve had enough, you nod at Seungkwan.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Seungkwan hisses, stomping his foot onto the soft grass as if to attack. Soonyoung jumps, immediately removing his hands from you and you finally breathe in relief, leaning back in your seat and watching Seungkwan deal expertly with him.

“What’s it to you, man?” Soonyoung exclaims, but it comes out very timid under Seungkwan’s displeased gaze.

“That’s my fucking daughter you’re infecting with your weird ass vibes. I don’t want her to be contaminated any further.”

Completely taken aback, Soonyoung can’t find any words to reply to the insult. It’s one thing to be rude, but to insult a man’s vibes is unbelievable. He looks at you with twinkling, hopeful little eyes, waiting for you to be the less offensive parent.

“You heard him. Shoo,” You wave your hand, happy to be rid of company.

You and Seungkwan break into a fit of laughter, watching the poor guy walk away.

When the party is over, you’re more relieved than anything. Seungkwan stays behind and helps you clean up the place. Which basically means he cleans up while you shower and slip into your comfiest clothes, not that you’re complaining.

You’re sitting at the sofa, hand resting on your stomach when he finally comes downstairs. Fresh from his shower, he smells like your bodywash.

He settles down next to you.

“Tired?” You ask.

He hums.

“How’s my babygirl?” He whispers, leaning over to talk to your belly. You don’t fight the giddy smile that takes over. It had been a couple of weeks since Seungkwan started talking to your baby — The doctor recommended he pick up on the habit so the baby could recognise his voice.

And he had no shame at all, making small talk with your unborn daughter any time he could, which was a complete 180 from you, who felt quite awkward at times.

“Kicking,” You sigh, “It’s way past her bedtime!”

He laughs.

“Give mummy a rest, will you?”

You laugh, running your hand over your clothed stomach in the hopes of calming your baby. She seemed to settle down once Seungkwan started talking though.

“Here,” He grabs a tiny fancy bag hidden behind his back.

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He just smiles.

Opening the bag, you find the tiniest little off-white onesie, with the words “Daddy’s little bean” embroidered on the front. You pick it up, finding it so small in your hands you can’t imagine a little human would fill it up soon.

“You know this is our daughter’s first onesie?” You smile, running your fingers over the embroidered text.

Seungkwan stares at you.

“What?” You ask, worried.

He smiles. “It’s the first time you’ve said ‘Our’.”

Your brows furrow and then you smile again, pressing your lips together to fight any stubborn emotions. “Shit,” You sniff. “Of course she’s ours, I didn’t make her by myself!”

Goddamn hormones got you again. And it seems they got Seungkwan as well.

You put on a random movie as background noise, not that either of you pay much attention to the plot. You’re just talking about the busy day you’ve had and the fact that finding out your precious baby is a girl. It just makes it all feel much realer.

“Ugh, Soonyoung. Who invited him?” Seungkwan moans with a roll of his eyes.

Shoving the last bit of your chocolates into your mouth, you laugh. “I think my mum did.”

“Guy can not get a hint to save his life!”

You’re laughing at his dramatic antics.

“And all that touching?” He shakes his head.

“You were so cool,” You bite your lip. “When you told him to get away from your daughter…”

“Huh?”

“I like it when you’re…” You shift in your seat, pressing your legs together, “…Possessive.”

Seungkwan malfunctions, gulping so loudly you can hear it. He looks at your bare legs pressed together, shakes his head and focuses back on your face.

“Yeah,” He clears his throat.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that halfway through your second trimester, you feel on fire. You’re constantly needy. It doesn’t help that Seungkwan has been so incredible and unbearably hot so often. “Uh-huh,” You hum, leaning forward until you can reach his arm to trace your fingers along his bicep.

The ghost of your touch is enough to send shivers up his spine. Seungkwan blinks once, twice and gulps.

“Don’t,” He pleads.

You sigh with a pout and Seungkwan thinks you look so adorable with that cute little pout in your pretty lips.

A shy smile blooms on your face and you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s fine if you don’t want to,” You shrug. “But the doctor said it was fine.” Seungkwan had sat awkwardly looking around when the doctor had given you the green light for sexual activity as long as you took it slow.

“No— I want to! Trust me. I want to. But…” He looks over at your stomach. “You can sit on my face,” He offers but you sigh once again.

“I don’t wanna sit on your face, I wanna sit on your cock,” It’s such a genuine confession you don’t even realise the effect it has on him.

Seungkwan chokes.

He closes his eyes, needing a second after the sudden blood loss from his brain. “That’s— That’s something dangerous to say, y’know.”

“Good!” You cross your arms over your chest, “Now you know how I feel.”

Almost immediately, he coos reaching forward to grab at your waist. “Aw, do you feel that needy for my cock?”

“You suck.”

He smirks, “You wish.”

You groan in frustration burying your head in the crook of his neck, he runs his hands over your hair, the scent of your shampoo engulfs him.

“I want you, baby… So bad” he whispers, voice hoarse in the late night exhaustion.

“Take me, then.”

“Shit, you really know how to push my buttons,” He laughs, the vibrations of his chest travelling through your connected bodies. Your skin burns with desire and his lustful whispers might just melt you.You smile against his skin.

“Can I take you on that offer?”

“Holy fuck, yes.”

With all the care in the world, Seungkwan pushes you to lay back, one leg thrown over his shoulder and the other spread off the couch. He helps you place a cushion behind your back.

Your skin is searing against his cool lips, burning under his scattered butterfly kisses. His slender fingers toy with the band of your underwear, close but not nearly enough to satiate your lustful spell.

But alas, he relishes in your squirms and mewls of anticipation, drawing out each open mouth kiss to the inside of your thigh with devilish pleasure. With your underwear long forgotten, his fingers can graze along your bare hips and the hard bump along your stomach. Hands gripping your hips, he brings them toward his face, nose grazing along your pelvic bone, he inhales.

“Fuck… You smell fucking divine…”

Any possible reply you had flees from your mind the moment he licks a long stripe along your aching core. His hold keeps you in place, eager tongue diving into your heat to lap at your juices, humming at every nerve that jumps under his attention.

“Aren’t you sensitive?” He coos, a deep laugh reverberating from his chest and sending goosebumps through your entire body.

You try your best to disguise a scandalous moan with a fake cough. Though you suspect he knows.

“Sh–shut up!”

His left hand is cautiously placed over your belly, guaranteeing no touch will be too much while his right is running torturous circles along your outer labia. A teasing thumb draws figure eights on your clitoris, You let out a dreamy, muffled moan and it caresses his mind with lust, short-circuiting his brain for a brief second.

“You’re absolutely dripping, y’know?” He whispers against your throbbing heat, his tongue positively eager to dive in and taste you.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’s your fault.”

A finger goes in easily, pushing and prodding at your gummy insides, stretching you out. “How is it my fault?”

You sigh, hand gripping onto a poor throw pillow, “Kept teasing me.”

Seungkwan smiles devilishly. Then adds a second finger, scissoring you open, relishing in the squelching sounds your arousal makes against his motions.

“Teasing you, yeah?”

“Y—Yeah!” You gulp,

“How come?” He eggs you on, teasingly slow on his ministrations.

“Kept walking around all— All dressed up. You looked so—“ It’s when he massages your most sensitive spot that you lose track of your thoughts.

“Go on, love.”

“Looked so… Handsome.”

“Did I, now?”

You nod.

He’s always one to love a compliment, especially in these circumstances when you sound so needy and sweet. “I need you to elaborate on that.”

“You looked really good with that button-up,” Seungkwan hums.

“And your hair styled like that— I wanted to jump you.” You confess With a third finger added, you feel the stretch from his gorgeous, slender fingers curling into your gummy walls. You don’t notice your hips grinding into his palm, but he does, of course.

Deciding it’s enough teasing for now, Seungkwan hums with a satisfied smirk, diving down to suckle on your clit.

Caught off-guard, you let out and an unfiltered curse followed by his name.

His fingers thrust in and out of you while tongue is dancing around your bundle of nerves. You’re squirming but his other hand holds you in place lest you interrupt him in his favourite activity.

Seungkwan is in fact, so lost in it, eyes closed with his eyelashes fluttering along his chubby cheeks, pleasured hums erupting from his throat that he doesn’t notice he’s been grinding against a poor cushion.

Your hand find his still damp hair, letting your fingers tangle into your beautiful locks, pulling at his scalp with every other move of his. He hisses at the sting from your desperation, but relishes in it.

With his finger curling against your most sensitive spot, he focus on driving you crazy with his tongue. Flattening it out against your clit, licking long stripes before running it over side to side just before he puckers his lips and sucks.

Your leg thrown over the couch falls onto his back, curling around his torso and pulling him closer, burying his face in your cunt as throw your head back and spill out desperate cries of his name.

He smiles against your throbbing clit, noticing just how much louder you’ve gotten.

“Close, baby?”

You nod with a whiny moan.

It’s more than enough to stimulate him back to his activities, keeping up the pace until you’re shaking even more than before. Your well-deserved orgasm hits your body with inexplicable waves of pleasure.

You whimper out his name in the sultriest of voices, enough to inebriate his mind with blind lust.

He doesn’t stop, not until you’ve come down from your brief euphoria and are whining from overstimulation, practically pushing him away — A far cry from your attempts of burying him into you just earlier.

Letting go of your tired muscles, you let out a tired sigh, throwing your head back. Post-orgasm bliss enveloping your body in its soft caresses. Seungkwan smiles, finally coming up to look at you.

You look positively satisfied, your skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat but most importantly — pleasure.

He leans forward, clean hand wiping away any stray hairs that are glued to your forehead. Seungkwan has such a soft smile on his swollen, reddened lips, his eyes kiss your face with adoring looks.

It’s almost easy to ignore the strained bulge poking at your stomach right now.

“You…” You point out and he looks somewhat caught.

“Sorry,” He clears his throat, pulling away.

You immediately grab his arm, “What? No— It’s not what I meant.”

His pretty eyes are locked on you. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No— Let me help you,” You bite at your lower lip, not ever willing to admit the idea of pleasuring Seungkwan aroused you to no end

“What? No, you’re—“

“I can still use my hands, you idiot.”

The prospect of a handjob — of any part of you touching his dick, really — is enough to distract him from any insults thrown his way. Hiding his excitement, Seungkwan sits back, legs spread open as he waits for you to settle to his side.

It doesn’t take much to pull his rigid cock from his precum stained sweats. It bobs up, standing red and angry against his stomach. He hisses at the sudden feeling of cold air caressing his searing skin.

Chewing on your lip, you lean forward, the brushing of your bare arms enough to make his cock twitch.

You lick your fingers and reach for him: up and down, up and down, running your thumb along his slit, smearing beads of rich precum along his length.

While his lips hold nothing but soft pleas and whines, you work your way over his length, reaching in between your legs to use your own come as lube — Oh, that drove him absolutely insane. The very thought of having your essence wrapped around his cock, shit, it’s still warm, too.

His head rests on your shoulder, every heavy breath tickles your skin. You bite your lower lip, containing your own moans at such a delicious sight. Seungkwan melts like putty in your touch.

Seungkwan whines into your neck, a loud gulp makes his adam’s apple bob up and down, but you’ve got your mind laser-focused on giving him just as great of an orgasm. Not that he’s too far from it, no. His fingers, which before were so teasing and precise, now grasp at your arm and clothes, fingers curling around fabric in desperation.

He squirms as you quicken your pace, legs flailing but never interrupting you. Adjusting yourself on the sofa, you lean forward until you are close enough to run your tongue along his length.

“Shit!” He jumps, arm moving to grab the back of the sofa.

You lips graze along his absurdly hot skin, leaving well placed kisses at the base; Not ceasing the motion of your hands, instead letting your other hand join in, massaging his balls.

“I’m close—“ He manages to spew out just before he finally cums.

Hot spurts of cum fly up his torso and land on his clean shirt, his legs shake under him and he can barely muster out a single moan. You keep up your strokes until he has nothing left to give.

Seungkwan leans back, arm thrown over his eyes, loud pants coming from his lips.

Teasingly, you kiss his tip before you tuck it back into his underwear.

You wish you had any energy left to tease him some more, but you want nothing more than a bath and your soft bed. So you lay back on the soft, eyelids weighing a ton.

He finally faces you, a tired smile on his lips as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.

“Shower?”

You smile, “You read my mind.”

“I want to get a house.”

His announcement comes as a surprise. It had been a lazy weekend, you just started working on dinner and he offered some help.

“A house? Do you not like your fancy apartment anymore?” You pry curiously.

“I’m gonna keep my apartment, it’s just… I want to get a house here. For when I come visit you.”

“You can just stay with me,” You shrug, not seeing the big picture and he’s having a hard time getting out what he really wants to say.

“Yeah, but… I want our daughter to have a big house and a backyard where she can play— No offence to your place, but I’d like her to have more space.”

Stopping in your tracks, you hold back ‘Aw’ing at him. “That’s so sweet.” He smiles, relived. “But…”

Seungkwan half-panics, “But what?”

“I won’t lie… I have been thinking about moving…”

“To Seoul?” He inches closer.

You nod. “Travelling will be hard for you and… She’s gonna need her daddy.” There’s a soft smile playing in your lips, though Seungkwan is visibly emotional after your words. The stock you’d been carefully adding vegetables to has come to a boil, yet you don’t bother giving it any attention.

“A-Are you sure? It’s a big change.”

“My contract with the school is almost over and in a couple of months I won’t be able to work until the baby is big enough.”

“That’s true… But you love it here!”

“It’s not like I’ll never come back,” You wave off his concern, “I was thinking I could get a place just outside of the city.”

You had been thinking about it ever since Seungkwan came back and decided to be a part of your daughter’s life. Actually, you’d given it some thought when you found out you were pregnant; you loved your hometown but you wanted to give your child the best chance in life and moving into the big city meant better jobs for you and better education for your baby.

Having him in your child’s life meant that he’d be away for work most of the time and he seemed too excited for all of it, it’d break your heart to see him miss the most important milestones because of the distance.

Seungkwan bites back an excited smile, trying his best to act nonchalantly about it all. “You could move in with me while we look at houses.” He says quietly, side-eyeing for your reaction.

You scratch at your neck, unsure of how to react. “Kwannie, I wouldn’t be comfortable making you buy a whole house…”

“I promise it will be in our daughter’s name. We’ll find somewhere with a big backyard and maybe a pool,” He no longer hid his excitement. The whole situation had been gnawing away at him, too.

You don’t deny that it sounds amazing. “The pool needs to be fenced.”

“Of course.”

“It has to have a large kitchen,” You play along.

He smiles, “Consider it done.”

“Three bedrooms minimum.”

“Are you planning on having an office? Or—“ Seungkwan gulps, a sudden heat blooming in his cheeks, “You want another kid?”

You choke on your own saliva, staring at him. “A room for each of us!” Slightly embarrassed, he scratches at his neck. “That’s fine, too…”

Not that having two kids sounded bad. You were only thinking of your daughter, of course. You didn’t want her to be lonely growing up. That’s it. Nothing to do with how incredible of a father Seungkwan has shown himself to be and how much that has overthrown your brain.

“I’ll start looking,” Seungkwan says, reaching for his phone.

“Already?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I want us to have everything settled before she’s here.”

“Why the rush? We’ve got a couple of months before I give birth.”

“Once she’s born we won’t have time to do anything. And my apartment isn’t exactly child friendly…” Not just because he wants to move in with you, not at all.

“That’s true…” You bite at your lip, “Shit, closing on a house takes time, right? What if we don’t have enough time?” Suddenly, you’re very worried about the next couple of months.

“Leave it to me, I’ll make sure we find the perfect place,” He reassures you with a warm smile and you hate how it makes everything alright.

You throw your arms around his neck, excitedly jumping up and down. "Thank you, Kwannie, you’re the best,” Your words are saccharine sweet and Seungkwan finds himself to be overcome with arousal; which had become a common occurrence as of lately.

Not that he didn’t find you hot before, but it felt like everything was intensified a thousand fold. You were just so sweet with your protruding bump and neediness. Every time you needed something you came straight to him, even with the smallest of tasks like opening a jar of peanut butter.

Although he liked to pride himself in being free from toxic masculinity, Seungkwan was nothing if not affected by you making him feel like a big strong man.

You’d just start planning on the future nursery and he reassured you 100% that he could build it all himself with his own two hands — You were so smitten, you immediately jumped to smother his cheeks with kisses.

And he could feel your figure against his chest, how round you'd become and it drove him insane. You bat your eyelashes at him once with those pretty eyes and he's at your feet doing whatever you asked.

He once caught you rubbing body oil over your stomach, claiming it would prevent stretch marks. Though any and all words fell on deaf ears, he was completely enamoured with the sight before him. You, fresh off the shower, slight damp hair, a comfy nightgown, an arm holding your tits out of the way while the other ran along your skin.

“Let me do it,” The words were out before he could even think about it. Not that he disagreed with the horny bits of his brain, this was a great idea through and through.

You scoffed and then realised he meant it. “Oh? Okay…”

Seungkwan stood behind you, chest flush to you semi-bare back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, slender fingers running along your skin. God, the slightest brush of his fingertips sent shivers down your spine.

You squirmed every time his hands wandered just far down enough to graze the bunched up fabric of your beige panties — Not your sexiest pair, you admitted and wished you’d put on something cuter.

His hands, his gorgeous hands, kneaded onto the abundant flesh of your belly, easily gliding all over but never where you need it the most. It’s only when you feel him poke at your back, that you realise this has affected him just as much.

With a mischievous smile, you shake your hips, hearing a quiet growl erupt from his chest.

“Stop— I won’t be able to control myself—“

“You don’t need to put it in—“ Your voice is a siren’s call, dripping in lust with your tempting offers, he feels as if he might drown in your sweet essence, though it would be a lovely way to go.

“Fuck— You’ll drive me crazy, y’know.” He grumbles but you hear him fight with his trousers and boxers.

With a couple of pumps over his length, Seungkwan holds your hips still. Feeding his dick inch by inch through your legs, your heavenly warmth surrounds every inch of his skin, sending his heartbeat into a lust-filled frenzy.

Your panties offer an unfamiliar texture, but your thighs, oh, your thighs; hot and juicy, they clamp around his crying dick and he feels your lovely skin all over his length. It’s dizzying, having his penis so close to your hole after so long.

Oh, how he wishes to take you apart around him and watch you come undone again and again. Hips desperately rutting into yours, you feel the hotness of his cock practically burning your skin in red hot lust. You drip and melt into his body, losing where he ends and you begin, you are a simple puzzle and he's the one piece you need to feel complete. Letting your own desire overcome every sense, you soak through the fabric of your panties, enough for him to feel it.

“Fuck—“ Seungkwan groans, hiding his reddened face on the crook of your neck, letting his hot breath tickle your skin. “You’re so— so wet, baby.”

You nod mindlessly, hands holding onto his arms for some stability. Those beautiful slender fingers of his caress your body all over, kneading the abundant flesh of your breasts, dipping into the plunge of your nightgown to find your eager nipples and you throw your head back, presenting yourself to his enjoyment. His tongue runs across the dip of your neck with a trail of searing kisses, nibbles and hickies.

“Who’s got you like this, huh?” His sinful whispers dissipate amongst the curves of your neck, raising goosebumps along its path.

“You.”

“Say my name, princess.”

“You. Seungkwan, you do—“

The way his name rolls off your tongue so naturally stirs in him something primal, every breathy syllable burnt into his brain. His name belonged to you and you only. For you to chant over and over, to call his name in a breathless prayer.

You’re clenching around nothing, arched onto his body, relying on his grip for support. His movements are broken and shaky, timed by quiet hisses and groans. You can feel his length, hot and throbbing and you've never craved him as badly. Desire honey thick, it drips through your body, leaving a hazy trail in your mind, clouding any coherent thought, leaving you pliant against his body.

The tip of his cock rubs against your clothed clit and you moan out his name, your legs have suddenly given under the abrupt wave of pleasure that bleeds through your every inch. He holds you still, hips thrusting back and forth chasing his own pleasure until he finds it. White ropes splashing all over the floor and your thighs.

Seungkwan kisses your neck and shoulder, humming praises that clear the fog of your post-orgasmic-bliss brain. His hands caress you all over, your stomach, your arms. He tells you you’re beautiful, amazing, incredible and all the adjectives he can mutter.

He worships you as his own, honeyed words melting into the cracks of your heart.

“You’re lucky I’m so tired,” You huff out, leaning against him, relishing in the way it feels to be held.

He lets out a soft laugh, “Why is that?”

“If I weren’t dead tired, I would suck you dry and leave your balls emptier than they’ve ever been.”

You feel him harden between your legs. “Shit.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

Far from you hitting him with a classic “What are we?”, especially since you were the one to reject his rushed marriage proposal in the first place. But the way he looks at you with so much love is driving you insane.

And… You crave him.

Like nothing before.

His very presence enchants you beyond salvation, you’re enticed by his every move, his voice and even the scent that lingers after he leaves.

You went shopping for a dress over the weekend, realising everything you had no longer fits right and Seokmin’s sister's wedding was just around the corner. Seungkwan, of course, tagged along, flashing his black card at every chance possible.

Every dress you tried on, he looked at you with such a hunger in his eyes, your panties were ruined from the very beginning.

Leaving the store with your purchase, you passed by a baby store and of course, you had to go in. The worker confused you for a married couple and Seungkwan didn’t deny it, he just kept inquiring about the different prams, very adamant about the safety of your daughter; Something that had turned into quite the turn on.

Squeezing into a dress and heels and doing heavy makeup on a Saturday hadn’t been in your schedule for years. But the event of a wedding had you rushing to get ready in time. You were very visibly pregnant by now, despite it not being that long since you’d started really showing. Part of you dreads meeting all the familiar faces and having to hear all of their gossip while the other just wants to get it all over with.

Seungkwan had elected to get ready at your place — He was practically glued to your side all the time. You couldn’t even say he wouldn’t accompany you to the bathroom because he almost certainly had.

He, of course, flaunts his mile-long line of luxury fitted suits to be chosen from, standing at the mirror for ages just to pick out a colour to truly highlight his complexion. Meanwhile, you’ve been ready for at least half an hour.

“I like the black,” You suggest.

“It’s too obvious,” He whines.

“How about beige?”

He ponders with a low hum.

“It’s classy!” You add.

“You convinced me,” He smiles, making work of removing his bathrobe.

The navy microfiber slips off his smooth skin all too easy, revealing his enticingly gorgeous figure — He always had an elegant aura, with slender limbs and and air about him that just craved success. But way past the puberty woes and knocking on the door of his early 30s, Seungkwan had filled up into a tempting heartthrob.

His biceps were much bigger and well-defined, even under your dim bedroom lighting and his chest, good heavens. His pecs pushed against every article of clothing that dared cover them, making their existence hard to ignore.

A sigh leaves your painted lips.

Seungkwan’s eyes meet yours through the mirror’s reflection, watching you sitting at the edge of your unmade bed. His gaze is dark and defiant, a prideful smirk clings to his pretty lips under the awareness of your drooling.

You can’t say watching his slowly button up the tightest dress shirt was doing very good for your crazy hormones. His damp hair draping over his forehead, down to his sharp eyebrows and long eyelashes. The sight of his gorgeous hands deftly making work of the buttons is just hypnotic.

The both of you had yet to have sex — the penetrative kind. Every other type had been used and abused and yet, you still craved for much more. And he couldn’t claim to be blissfully unaware of your lustful spell, either. Oh, how he loved to tease you at every waking chance he had.

While you’re very aware of the effect he has on your body, fanning your sizzling face with your hands, Seungkwan picks up the matching trousers, slipping them past his long legs and above the roundness of his boxer-clad ass, you can clearly see it bounce when he does a little jump to help the fitting of his slacks.

Alluring fingers playing with the zipper and buttons, he lets his eyes travel to meet your figure once again.

Your eyes are arrayed in fervent desire, the type that simmers under low heat, quietly bubbling and changing form, caramelising under constant showers of passion, tasting sweeter by the minute. Oh, how he adored you.

“You ready?”

You snap out of it, jumping in your seat with a quiet “Mhm?” Seungkwan offers you a toothy grin, “Are you ready?” He asks once again, reaching for the blazer that would finish his masterpiece.

Nodding, you push yourself off the bed. “Yeah, just need my shoes and I’m ready.”

Though Seungkwan protested your choice of footwear, claiming they were far too dangerous, you still went ahead and wore your chunky kitten heels, they just made your legs look too good not to wear.

Seungkwan had even rented a car for the whole ordeal; a flashy sports car with a sleek design and too-sharp edges. But he was living for the whole ordeal of dressing up for an event.

While you quietly watch him drive, there's something on the back of your mind. You hadn't discussed your relationship, ever. Usually, – before the baby, that is –, you would keep to yourself when in public, however, you are unsure if your unspoken agreement still stands. The two of you rarely ever arrived at events together, hell, there's plenty you've done together in the past month that you'd only dreamed of before.

And while you're nibbling on your manicured nails, Seungkwan sees the situation quite a lot clearer than you do. When he pulls into the parking lot for the fancy event hall, he exits the car in a haste and he's at your feet just before you manage to open your own door.

You give him a surprised smile, placing your hand in his and accepting his help to exit the car.

However, he doesn't let go once you're out of the vehicle and are finished smoothing your dress, his hand still holds yours while he hands the key to the valet.

Biting at your lip, you can't help the giddy butterflies that make themselves at home in your stomach.

You are both greeted by the bride and groom's family, putting on a nice smile and giving them all the compliments in the world.

It wasn't uncommon for Seungkwan to turn heads, he loved that aspect of his live in the spotlight, that doesn't mean you had as easy of a time seeing every single guest pay attention to you, letting their whispers fill the place.

Noticing your nervousness, Seungkwan gives your hand a light squeeze.

Before either of you can say anything, you're interrupted by the world's brightest smiler. The bride's very proud little brother is approaching you.

"Oh, you guys! I'm so excited you made it!"

"Don't you clean up nice, mister?!" You tease him, and he smooths down the jacket of his suit with a smile.

"You guys look great as well!" His eyes trail down to where your hands are joined but he doesn't say anything. "Have you already taken your pictures with Sohee?"

"We just got here," Seungkwan explains.

"Well, let's go, then."

He doesn't leave any room to protest, guiding the both of you through the hall and down into the waiting room. Seungkwan is surprisingly not as nervous as you expected him to be, which is somehow, more worrying.

First thing you're met with is the horde of bridesmaids with champagne flutes and loud cackling as they gossip about the guests. With Seokmin's presence, you easily dodge their gaggle.

Sohee is sitting on the wide sofa, surrounded by beautiful flowers as she takes pictures with a group of people.

"Her dress looks insanely expensive," you quietly comment, to which Seungkwan hums in agreement.

When the people leave, Seokmin talks to the photographer for a second.

"Sir, you sit to her left and you to her right, please," The photographer announces.

You move to sit on the couch, though Seungkwan never lets go of your hand, assisting you until you're sat. Only, does he move to his designated spot.

"You look beautiful, Sohee" You tell the bride briefly, but she doesn't quite pay attention. Her eyes are scanning Seungkwan's figure.

"Look here, please," The photographer raises their hand and Sohee finally faces the camera.

The photograph is taken in a flash.

Barely managing to motion standing up, you're immediately helped by Seungkwan's unfairly soft hands.

"Are you in town for long?" Sohee asks suddenly, sending both of your's attention her way.

You look at Seungkwan, waiting for his reply.

He nods, "Yeah."

Looking like she expects more, Sohee just licks her lips and nods, "Do you think–"

She's interrupted by the large group of middle-aged ladies that pour into the room with their proud smiles and compliments. Seokmin immediately greets them, gesturing for them to sit by the gorgeous bride-to-be.

"Thanks for the invite," You bid your goodbyes, leaving the waiting room.

You and Seungkwan gossip about the place and the seemingly large budget while you wait for the ceremony to begin.

The ceremony is just as any other wedding you've ever attended; only a thousand times more extravagant. Not that you expected anything but. It's beautiful, the bride and groom seem to have practiced the whole thing way too many times.

Everyone stands up to watch the bride throw the bouquet, you wonder who did she pick to receive it.

As you clap your hands, tip-toeing to watch just who is going to be Sohee's successor in the marriage market, you don't notice the flying bundle of flowers coming directly toward your face.

You're lucky Seungkwan still has his reflexes, he expertly catches the bouquet before you can even acknowledge its very presence.

His pretty eyes widen in panic, looking at the very pretty flowers in his hand.

It doesn't take him too long to come to his senses and kindly pass the bouquet off to Sohee's chosen friend.

You laugh at the situation.

"Congrats," You tease, "I guess you're getting married first," nudging his shoulder, you watch him roll his eyes.

"I'm not marrying anyone in the next six months unless you're up for it."

It's such a silly, passing comment. He doesn't even pay attention to what he says, but you feel your stubborn stomach butterflies jump circles in the lining of your oesophagus.

The post-ceremony lunch is amazing and you, of course, abstain from any celebratory drinks. Seungkwan drinks double in your honour, despite your objections. At some point in the festiveness, your old classmates find you and you enjoy the nostalgic banter. Although you were questioned about your very visible pregnancy, it went much better than any of your expectations. And it seems most linked Seungkwan's sudden hovering and overprotection to his contribution to your current state.

"My feet are killing me," You groan, settling into a bench.

"I told you not to wear heels," Seungkwan says.

You roll your eyes, "I know… But they make my legs look great."

Seokmin laughs, "It's fine, half of the bridesmaids are barefoot by now."

"You make a great point," You point at Seokmin, toeing off your heels. "I wish I had brought some backups, though…"

"That's why I brought you some flats, they're in the car," Seungkwan has this proud puppy smile, knowing he did something amazing and awaiting the praise.

You groan in happiness, "I could seriously get up and kiss you, but my feet are killing me," You confess.

Seungkwan laughs, "I'll get them, don't move."

"No problem, I'll ask someone in the staff to bring it to you," Seokmin waves it off.

"Oh, please, it's just a pair of shoes. "Exactly," He responds, leaving to wave at a staff member.

Watching you fidget, Seungkwan sees you're shoving your feet back into your heels.

"Why are you putting your shoes back on?"

"I need to pee, I think."

"You think?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sorry it's hard to know exactly how full my bladder is when your daughter is constantly kicking it."

"She's a good girl."

You huff, "I'm going to pee," You announce, raising your hand when he motions to stand up," Don't follow me to the bathroom, it's weird."

Seungkwan wants to protest, but you shoot him a pointed glare.

It takes maybe thirty seconds of him being unattended for Sohee to spot from the other side of the hall, she gathers the many layers of her dress and walks up to him, sporting a bright smile.

"Seungkwan! So good to see you!"

He nods, "Thanks for the invite and congratulations." It's a sincere wish.

"Well, I just had to invite my biggest admirer, hadn't I?" She jokes, lightly tapping at his shoulder, Seungkwan just sort of shrugs. Licking her lips awkwardly, Sohee continues, " You know… I remember when you were younger, you were just crazy about me!" She laughs.

Wishing you'd hurry up, he flashes her a hesitant smile.

He didn't want anything to do with Sohee, not now, not ever.

It was the type of realisation he thought would hurt. He spent so long reaching for the unattainable, trying to patch up wounds from the past with cold revenge that at some point those wounds started to quietly heal.

He was more than content with his career, he accomplished so much in his short years on TV using only his overflowing charisma – and despite any past scandals, had talks of producing and presenting other shows. Seungkwan was loved by the public, adored by brands and welcomed with open arms just about anywhere. He had proven to himself and everyoned that ever dared doubt his star potential that he was just that; a star, destined to be admired.

But most importantly, he had his mind filled with wonder over how the future would turn out.

Every night, as he laid by your side and watched you drift off to sleep, Seungkwan would caress your stomach and imagine what his daughter will look like. He wondered just who she would take after in appearance and if her personality would match her lookalike. He also worried if he was fit to be a parent at all.

And then you would stir in your sleep, and he would feel those tiny but very powerful kicks, then everything feels alright. He's right where he belongs; right by his girls.

His wholesome epiphany doesn't mean Sohee will take a fucking hint. She keeps initiating contact, flashing that fake smile of hers.

"I tried to be an actress, y'know," It's a very obvious hint at her hidden agenda, he realises, though he hasn't got half a mind to lose her. "Couldn't make it because of a bitch that sabotaged me…" She scoffs, painted lips curling into a frown, "But I was good, really good! I would've made it if it weren't for what happened!"

Seungkwan nods politely, wishing he had a drink in his hand.

"You reckon I would've made it?"

"Mhm?"

"As an actress, you think I would make it big?" She smiles expectedly.

"Sure," He shrugs and it's clearly not enough.

"Oh, please. You can be honest!" She nudges at his shoulders, her hands lingering far too long, rubbing across his chest.

He licks at his lips, openly uncomfortable. "We can't know for sure."

"I mean, look at me! I've got a face for drama, " She poses, "I'm unforgettable, y'know. Well, I'm sure you know," Sohee laughs, "you're probably still hung up on me!" she bites at her lip, looking him up and down.

That strikes a bit of a nerve.

"No– I–"

"It's fine! I know… And…" She takes a step closer, "I'm not opposed to it," Her manicured finger draws circles on his chest, "I'm open if you wanna play," She winks.

Seungkwan takes a step back.

"I just think… it takes more than an average face to make it into the industry… And into my bed."

Oh, how furious she is.

It's such a sudden shift in her mood, he almost flinches. Can't say it wasn't satisfying as hell getting to say that after so many years.

"What?! Average?! Average?! Oh, fuck you! Just because I rejected you in high school, doesn't mean you should hold a grudge!"

Seungkwan looks around at the people that suddenly are very interested in their conversation.

"I'll tell you what, I don't need your opinion! Every day, I get stopped by men dying to get with me and you know what–"

It seems you heard his silent but very desperate prayers, appearing just when he needed you the most.

"What's up?" You ask, quite confused.

"What is up, is that this cunt holds a grudge because I rejected him in high school," Sohee crosses her arms childishly.

"That's not–" Seungkwan tries to explain it to you, but you know Sohee well enough to predict her temper.

"Come on, it's your wedding day, why do you care what he thinks, just relax," You argument, hoping it's enough to convince her.

"You're right, it is my wedding day and I deserve an apology."

"A what now?"

"An apology, I deserve one or you're kicked out."

"Oh, fuck off!" You yell, turning on your heels and dragging Seungkwan with you.

You hope you're far away enough she won't give chase. Or security, maybe.

Too bad for you she immediately signals for security and you hurry your step.

Bumping into Seokmin on the way, you steal your flats from his hands.

"You guys, what's the hurry?" He laughs.

"Thank you, Seokmin, great party!" You yell, shrugging off your heels and toeing into the flats as fast as you can.

Still confused, he pries in further, "What? Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, long story, your sister kicked us out."

"What?!"

Seungkwan crouches to pick up your discarded shoes, "Great party, though."

"Yeah, I loved seeing you and the kids, we need to schedule a reunion sometime," You add.

"Are you done?" Seungkwan asks.

"Yeah," You nod.

"Let's go," He grabs your hand.

"Bye, Seokmin!"

"Bye-bye," You parrot.

And the two of you bolt down the hall toward the parking lot.

You're laughing your heads off by the time the valet brings around the rental, recalling just how crazy the past five minutes have been.

Seungkwan opens the door for you after leaving the valet a very generous tip.

"What did she want?" Your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Oh, fucking hell," He rolls his eyes, pulling out of the event hall. "You won't believe it."

"What?" You're already laughing at the idea.

"She kept hitting on me."

"What?" No longer laughing, you adjust yourself in your seat, "And what did tell her?"

"I said she needs more than an average face to make it into my bed."

You laugh awkwardly, not sure how to reply.

"Does that mean you're finally over her… Or… Do you still like Sohee?"

"Are you kidding me?!" He laughs at the absurdity of your suggestion. "I mean, I guess I knew it in my heart ages ago, but I sort of realised it today… I got over her a long time ago."

"You mean it?"

"Oh, getting kicked out of her wedding didn't prove it?"

You smile, "I guess it does prove you don't want to fuck her."

"You couldn't pay me to!"

Barely containing your foolish smile, you play with the hem of your dress.

"Besides," Seungkwan opens a mischievous smile, "I've got my eyes on the world's hottest MILF,"

You groan, hitting at his shoulder between your fits of laughter, "Stop it!"

Arriving at your place, you couldn't wait to finally get out of your party outfit and into your comfy pajamas. Toeing off your shoes halfway through your hallway, you pit-patter into your dimly lit bedroom with Seungkwan as your shadow.

"Can you help me?" Your plea is sleepy and sweet, carrying him to you before he can even process your words.

You're standing barefoot, dress clinging onto your shoulder, zipper halfway down. Seungkwan reaches for it, feeling the sudden spark of your bare skin grazing along his fingers. Once the zipper is all the way down, you sigh in relief and shrug the dress off. He feels like a puberty stricken teenager, being overcome with lust with a simple glance of your hyptonitisng body.

Looking back, you watch him stare at you, completely frozen.

"What?"

He doesn't respond.

"Do you want help, too?" You lean forward with a tease.

Fingers wrapping around his expensive tie, you pull him just close enough until his breath caresses your lips. Watching through half-lidded eyes, you glance at his pouty lips, overcome with the urge to take them.

Reading your mind, Seungkwan cups your burning hot cheeks, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

It's disgustingly messy with clashing teeth and breathless moans devoured alive with insatiable hunger. You're melting into his arms, clumsy synchronised steps toward the bed, almost tripping on your discarded dress.

Your fall into the bed isn't enough to part your frantic kiss, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him impossibly close, feeling the fabric of his suit grazing against your naked body, every wrinkle and fold a torturous experience.

Seungkwan shrugs off his blazer, throwing it somewhere in the room. He pulls at his tie with one arm and had your eyes been open, they'd be glued to the throbbing veins that decorate his skin.

"Keep–" You breathe out, "Keep it on–"

His smile is almost devilish. "Fuck me, aren't you naughty?"

You nod thoughtlessly, "I'm fuckin' crazy about you in that suit…" "Yeah?" Egging you on, he can barely contain his own lust at your words. The mere thought that you had been containing yourself all day, that he drove you just as crazy.

"Mmh," You kiss him, "I was thinking about you all day,"

"Fuck."

His hands are on your body, grabbing, kneading at your burning skin, touching every inch he pour his greedy touch on. Although he wants to kiss and your worship you, he dreads the thought of leaving your lips. Oh, such a tough choice.

Expertly, he undoes your bra, giving into your relief and lust at once. His hands find your breasts, massaging, flicking at your sensitive nipples.

Every single one of your quiet moans are muffled with his eager kisses.

You're pulling him closer and closer, toying with his dress shirt, pulling at each button. Torturously slow, you undo every button, feeling every inch of his bare skin on yours.

Pretty fingers grazing along the bulge that strains his slacks, you bat your eyelashes with a pout and he near melts. A mischievous smile plays at your lips as you blindly navigate his belt and zipper, finding your way into his pants.

He pulsates in your hands, hot and heavy and burning in desire.

You run a single finger along his length and it's enough to have him stuttering.

"I need to be in you, baby–"

You're drunk with lust at this point, the very thought of having him inside you is clouding your judgement beyond recognition. You can only nod fervoursly, parting your legs to receive him.

He leans back on his heels, staring at you, glossy eyes and parted lips, practically begging for him. He takes a long, hard stare at your round figure, the size of your stomach, the very thought that it was his seed that made you like this driving him insane with the primal sense of possession.

"You drive me crazy, y'know," He whispers against your kiss-swollen lips and you feel every vibration of his lust ridden whisper.

Maybe it's the atmosphere or the abstinence that's making you drunk on him. But you feel every inch of his body, every single touch of his feels a thousand times. His body burns against yours, fastened hearts irregularly dancing around each other's beats.

Having him inside you after so long feels like nothing ever before. You're getting split on his cock, mouth in a constant 'O'. He can feel every agonising inch of your wall clinging and squeezing around him.

Seungkwan holds himself back, willing his mind to think completely natural thoughts lest he come too fast. You're so warm, wrapping tightly around his length, pulsating and eager. What could a man do besides keep you filled up?

He drinks your every broken moan, every ragged breath resembling his name, relishing in the effect he has on you.

With sluggish thrusts, Seungkwan finally moves. Bottoming out feels heavenly, you can barely think. How you're split open deliciously on his length, you feel him throb inside you, dragging out of your walls before slamming back in.

"Fuck– You're choking me, baby–" You hum, not really focusing on anything other than the way he feels.

Fastening his pace, he is entranced with how your body looks under him.

Your eyes are tightly closed, limbs tangled around. Your entire body is jiggling with every thrust of his, following his every move. Fuck. He buries his head in the dip of your neck, biting at your skin to quiet himself, hot breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He has to will himself into a slower tempo lest he finish too fast, no, he wishes to drag this out impossibly long. To savour every millisecond, burn it in his brain until he can see and think of nothing but the way you come apart under him, the way you melt and fit around his body.

Your entire body sizzles with unadulterated lust.

"I'm– I'm close," You warn.

He hums, interrupted by a groan.

"Cum for me, princess, come on–"

You nod, voice crescendo into a string of disconnected words, chanting his name over and over. The sight of your pretty face overtaken by pleasure is enough to send him into his own climax, spilling into you with a final thrust.

Careful not to crush you, Seungkwan collapses to your side, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. He brings your hand to his lips, placing a loving kiss.

You snuggle into his chest.

"Can't believe I just fucked a MILF."

You laugh in desbelief.

"What the fuck!"

Moving had always proven to be a sisyphean task, it was no different when moving in with the father of your baby with whom you had an unlabeled very complicated relationship. At least he was more than willing to actually pay for a moving company as opposed to enticing your closest friends with beer and pizza.

And you very close to a good day until you grabbed an unassuming bag, only to discover a huge gash that extended to some of the clothing inside. After a justified breakdown, you sighed and surrendered to fate.

“Do you have a sewing kit?” You ask Seungkwan, looking at the large hole in your favourite sweater.

“In my nightstand,” Seungkwan replies mindlessly, eyes glued onto the TV. While he did help with the moving, the harmless idea of turning on the game had suddenly resulted in him holding open boxes while standing in the middle of the hallway, very entranced by the game.

You make your way through the mess of discarded boxes and enter his bedroom, being welcomed by the ever enticing scent of his cologne.

It’s only a minute or two after, that Seungkwan realises the predicament he’s in and stumbles his way into the bedroom, tripping over every single item on the floor.

He does realise it took him too long.

"What's all this?" You furrow your brows, looking at the very large array of velvet boxes in his nightstand.

"Nothing," Seungkwan hurries, closing the drawer way too fast. It comes out less as something he's embarrassed of and more that you should keep out of his business, not what he meant, of course.

"Right, sorry," You clear your throat, turning away without ever meeting his eyes.

It's enough to make him realise how his actions were received. "It's… Nothing, really, I mean it."

"Yeah, of course," You shrug, forcing a smile.

He sighs, "I mean it, look," reaching to pull the drawer open, Seungkwan gestures to the items inside.

In the drawer are a few velvet boxes tucked away and a tiny box with a loose ring and a necklace.

"It's fine!" You insist, "I shouldn't pry into something private."

"It's not private."

"Of course it is, I'm sure you keep your exes' stuff for sentimental reasons."

Seungkwan furrows his brow, staring at you, "They're not from my exes."

"You don't have to lie."

"I mean it."

"Seungkwan–"

"I mean it!" He kneels in front of you, reaching into the drawer.

"This one, I got you when we started pretending in uni… I felt like I needed to get you something… Both to prove that we were together and as a thanks," He places the shiny pendant in your hand. "This one is from when… we started sleeping together… I thought I should get you a ring for y'know," He shrugs, placing a single ring next to the pendant in your palm.

Seungkwan reaches into the drawer, picking up the first velvet box, "This one I bought for your birthday after I came to Seoul but I never got around to giving it to you." It's a very delicate necklace and it looks a little more expensive than the others. "And then the same year, when I started seeing someone else and didn't even tell you, I thought I should get you something as an apology and… a parting gift."

In the fancier box is a pair of stud earrings with tiny pearl drops.

"And then we kept seeing each other… and years passed and I realised I liked you… I wanted to make it official but… I was terrified," He confesses, "I was terrified of the commitment, I was terrified of what would happen if it didn't work out… But I got us matching rings, that never saw the light of day, of course," He laughs, the type of laugh that hides truer feelings.

The third box contained the matching couple rings.

You're speechless.

"And finally… when you came into my apartment… you got me out of my terrible, sorry state, you stayed by my side… Always did, but… Anyway– I–You said you loved me," He stares into your eyes and you are filled with so much emotion, he is sincere, you can feel it. "And I realised I loved you, too."

From the way your legs turn into jelly at the very sound of those words, you are so thankful for being sat.

"So I bought these rings and I scheduled a meeting with my company to talk about my future wedding. That's when my old PR manager went batshit on how it would ruin my career and decided to fuck me over… And it took me months to fix everything and make sure that we wouldn't have any problems," He raises his head to look at you, "So I came to visit and you were pregnant and I was. So. Happy…" His voice trails off. "I never wanted to marry you faster than right then and there. But then, you know what happened."

"Are you… fucking serious?"

His big brown eyes that more often than not prove themselves to be the bane of your existence glance away from your face.

Seungkwan readies himself for the incoming flurry of teasing that should come.

But it doesn't.

And then he raises his head, only to see that your face has contorted into a very ugly frown as you try to will your tears back into your eyes.

"What?" His face softens immediately and he's on you the very next second, reaching for your hands.

"I can't believe it," You hiccup.

"What's wrong?"

You can barely formulate coherent sentences with the turmoil that clouds your brain.

Seungkwan liked you.

For much longer than you could even fathom, he cherished you and the whole time you just thought he maybe tolerated your presence for the sake of getting into your pants. And all those years of suppressing your stupid feelings had culminated in this: a drawer full of unopened jewelry and erased love.

You can't help the very self-deprecating thoughts that tell you: you should've been braver.

"Baby, what's wrong?" His voice is soft and loving and stupid.

"Don't call me baby!" You wail, throwing your arms around his neck in a very confusing turn of events.

He does comfort you with light taps to your back.

"All this time," You hiccup, "I liked you and you liked me back and I kept hiding it because I was stupid! I'm sorry I said I didn't want to marry you."

"No, you… You were right to protect yourself," he shushes your cries. "I never proved myself to be someone very… Relationship worthy."

"No!" You shake your head, "I should've just… told you."

"Look… I was a dumb kid… I was terrified of being real with my feelings once I realised I liked you… And the longer I waited, the harder it got."

You nod.

"When you said "I love you"… It just felt like everything was coming together, y'know?"

"I do! I do love you!"

He smiles, hands reaching to cup your face.

"I wanted to marry you, I wanted to marry you so bad! But I was scared! I was scared you were only marrying me because I got pregnant!"

Seungkwan reaches to wipe your tears away.

"I thought if we got married for the baby, you'd grow to resent us both…"

"I could never resent you… Or our daughter."

"Oh, please, how was I supposed to know?!"

He laughs, "I should've told you I loved you. I should've told you I loved you and I wanted to marry you out of love."

"Tell me you love me again," You plea.

"I love you."

You can barely contain the stupid smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.

"I love you so much, Kwannie. I have loved you for so long…"

Seungkwan adjusts himself, pushing you back into a sitting position. He returns to his kneeling position on the floor and clears his throat.

"Marry me?"

Your dumbfounded stare goes for a bit longer than you wished for, enough to make him nervous another rejection was coming. But you break out into the world's most beautiful smile while you happily shout.

"Yes!"

"Oh, thank God."

Maybe it took a bit longer than most for you to find each other. But in the end, you had your future husband, your perfect baby and soon a dreamy home.

Seungkwan would announce his nuptials and upcoming paternity and receive a lot of love from the public. Many saw it as a show of maturity and trustworthiness, which did end up helping his career. Speaking of, he did go on a very long break as soon as you entered your third trimester, present at every waking moment. Except for when he almost passed out when you went into labour.

Parenthood hadn't been quite a challenge, not when you had each other. Your daughter was the sweetest, quietest little baby and such a cuddlebug. She always greeted her mummy and daddy with that toothless grin and sweet giggles, which made it very hard to think of stopping at just one kid.

You would return to teaching, balancing your family and work life and Seungkwan would come back to the spotlight. You two settled into the routine easily, picking up where the other needed.

Although life was different from as it was when you were younger, it wouldn't be hard to make do when you had each other. The future never looked as bright.

Since the very beginning, it had always been you and him against the world.

And until the very end, so it will be.

[savvytravelers]

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[brainddeadd]

Anyone But You

The last person you ever wanted to see again was Nico Hischier. Yet here he is, standing across the crowded wedding venue, looking better than any man has the right to in a tailored black suit. His dark eyes lock with yours from across the room, and that familiar smug grin spreads across his face.

Of course, it had to be him.

This whole destination wedding in St. Barts was supposed to be a fun escape—a chance to celebrate your best friend’s marriage and sip cocktails on the beach, not get trapped on an island with your former best friend turned bitter ex-flame. Fate, or maybe some cruel cosmic joke, decided otherwise.

It’s been two years since things exploded between you and Nico. Two years since you let feelings fester into something complicated and combustible. You walked away, he didn’t stop you, and neither of you looked back—until now.

At the reception’s cocktail hour, you try to melt into the crowd, but it’s impossible to ignore Nico’s presence. He’s everywhere—standing with the groomsmen, charming the bride’s family, and laughing in that way that used to drive you wild. You almost make it to the bar when a familiar voice stops you cold.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice smooth as ever.

You turn slowly, forcing a polite smile. “Nico.”

He leans casually against the bar, the same cocky tilt to his mouth you remember too well. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You mean at my best friend’s wedding?”

Nico chuckles, and it’s infuriating how good he looks doing it. “Right. How could I forget?”

“Must be all the concussions,” you say sweetly, the corners of your lips twitching.

He lets out a low laugh, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “Still as sharp as ever.”

“Still as annoying as ever,” you shoot back, grabbing your drink and turning on your heel.

But as you walk away, you can feel his gaze following you, as if the past two years never happened and the pull between you never really went away.

Over the next few days, avoiding Nico proves impossible. The wedding itinerary is packed with group activities that throw the two of you together at every turn—beach volleyball games, rehearsal dinners, sunset cruises. It’s like the universe is forcing you to confront whatever unresolved tension lingers between you.

And the tension? Oh, it’s thick.

“Still can’t serve to save your life,” Nico teases during a volleyball match, his grin too charming for his own good.

You scowl, brushing sand from your legs. “Still can’t shut up, I see.”

He laughs, low and familiar, and for a moment, you forget why you hated him in the first place.

But then the memories rush back—how everything fell apart between you, the things you left unsaid, the way he never fought for you when you walked away. And just like that, the irritation returns in full force.

The tension between you and Nico finally reaches its breaking point when a tropical storm traps everyone indoors. Somehow, you end up stuck in a tiny beachside cabana with him while the rain pours down in sheets outside.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, pacing the small space. “Of all people to get stuck with…”

Nico lounges on the couch, unbothered, watching you with that infuriatingly calm expression. “You act like being stuck with me is the worst thing in the world.”

“It is,” you snap.

He smirks, clearly enjoying your frustration. “You didn’t seem to mind me so much before.”

You whirl on him, heart pounding. “That was a long time ago, Nico.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he murmurs, his voice softer now.

The air between you shifts, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you both. The storm outside feels like a reflection of everything churning inside you—anger, regret, and that damnable attraction that never quite went away.

Before you can think better of it, the words tumble out. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Nico sits up, his expression serious now. “You walked away, Y/N. What was I supposed to do? Chase after someone who didn’t want me?”

“I did want you,” you whisper, the truth spilling out before you can stop it.

He’s on his feet in an instant, closing the distance between you. “Then why did you leave?”

Your breath catches as his gaze drops to your lips. “Because I was scared. Scared that what we had was too real. Scared that you’d break my heart.”

Nico’s hand cups your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You broke mine first.”

And then, suddenly, he’s kissing you.

It’s not gentle—it’s messy and desperate, years of frustration and longing pouring into the kiss. You kiss him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. It’s a kiss that feels like an apology, a confession, and a second chance all wrapped into one.

The storm passes, but nothing between you and Nico feels the same. What started as playful banter and unresolved tension has shifted into something deeper, something neither of you are ready to admit aloud.

Over the next few days, things get complicated. You catch yourself watching him when he isn’t looking, noticing the way his smile softens when he talks to you. And worse, you start wanting more—more time, more moments, more of him.

One night, beneath the glow of fairy lights at the reception, Nico pulls you into a slow dance. His hand rests on the small of your back, warm and steady, as you sway to the music.

“This feels dangerous,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nico smiles, his forehead resting against yours. “What’s life without a little danger?”

You laugh softly, leaning into him, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

The wedding weekend comes to an end, but you and Nico aren’t ready to say goodbye—not yet.

As you stand together on the beach, watching the waves roll in, he takes your hand. “So… what now?”

You smile, squeezing his fingers. “Now, we stop pretending we don’t care about each other.”

Nico grins, that familiar mischievous spark in his eyes. “Good. Because I don’t think I could let you walk away again.”

And this time, you don’t plan to.

[blues824]

✨️Hello✨️

I believe you know what I'm requesting :)) anyways

Happy new year!!

Hell yes I do. A marriage proposal from Sebek.

Gender-neutral reader

Sebek Zigvolt

What was the point of elaborate plans if you could ruin them so easily because of an impulse? An inescapable urge? An act that was done despite having such an elaborate plan.

He had an entire plan to ask you to be his for eternity. To ask you to grow old alongside him. To ask you to be the person he returns home to when he places down the mantle of guard and soldier to take up the mantle of ‘husband’.

Yes, he was going to propose.

A picnic in the woods, fairy-lights strung up to make the scene feel a bit more romantic. This was all with both Lilia, Silver, and even Waka-sama’s help. He would have wined and dined you, reciting a poem he had carefully crafted, before pulling out the ring at the end, getting on his knee, and asking if you would marry him.

Why did you have to be the way that you are?

It was so hard yet so easy to just coexist with you. He could be his true self around you. You’ve even picked up his favorite book so that conversation would never cease between the two of you. However, it made him nervous that he could mess it all up at any given point.

This was his first time in a relationship, and it was serious. I mean, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, if you would have him. He wanted to make sure that the moment was perfect, tailored to both you and him.

However, it was on the way there where he popped the question. He was leading you by your hand when you made a joke. It was a simple joke about how you’ve blindly trusted everyone since you came to Twisted Wonderland, and he opened his mouth before he could think about it.

“If you marry me, then you won’t be trusting blindly anymore. Not if I can help it,” He didn’t register what he said until you stopped in your tracks.

“Is that an official proposal, Sebek Zigvolt?” You asked quietly. That’s when it hit him like a punch to the face.

“W-Would you want it to be?” Since when did he start stuttering? He was really messing this up. However, as you looked into his eyes with nothing but pure love and adoration, he found himself losing the embarrassment.

“...Yes, I would,” You said, going to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed you away a little. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, kneeling down on the ground and looking up to you as he opened the box up to reveal a ring.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a few slipping down, a smile gracing your lips. You could tell that Sebek was nervous with how he had tears in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, I originally intended to serenade you with a poem that I had created for you, as well as lead you to a picnic date that I had assistance in assembling. However, it seems as though you know how to break me down and make me toss away any plans. Which is why I am asking you now. Will you marry me?”

A brief moment of silence took over… even the birds went quiet. Sebek’s heart was pounding against his ribcage, waiting for your answer. Then, you nodded your head, reaching your hand out to him as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

“I’m sorry I ruined your plans, darling,” You giggled through sobs, finally being able to wrap your arms around his neck as he stood up. His hands went to your waist.

“For you, I would gladly forsake every plan and itinerary just to be with you, for your presence is the most enchanting destination I could ever hope to reach,” The emotions were too much for you, so you just pulled him into a kiss, hoping to convey all those unsaid emotions. He seemed to get the message, leaning forward as he kissed you back to put you in a small dip.

Both of you were excited to see what fate had in store for you next.