#in the dream it was a 3 hour drive away and i was holding my decaying dog in my arms

[ddaengju]

.

[tojipie]

welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?” 

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 

 ˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose 

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

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[amaranthineghost]

hello!!!

can you do a one shot/ fanfic that Lando has been dating Y/N since they were 15/16, so for a long time, and she just found out she’s pregnant. you can come up with how they would react and how lando would react but i’d love if they were unsure of it in the beginning, but it grew on them as time went by.

thanks!!!!

| OUR WORLD IN YOUR HANDS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: they hadn't planned for pregnancy, but it changed their life.

ꕥ authors note: enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would honestly. tried to make it so she was more unsure than he was and in the end, I liked it. working on incorporating more dialogue in the future because it is definitely not my strong suit. I'll also alternate between requests and my own ideas so if you requested something, keep it in mind <3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, barely mentions thoughts of abortion

TWO RED LINES. her heart had skipped a beat, more like several as she stared at the dark red line and a faded pink one next to it. she couldn't believe her eyes. it couldn't be possible, it repeated in her mind.

but it obviously was. they hadn't been very careful, they're young and dumb and in love. two people so deeply in love that they couldn't care less. at least she thought they did at the time.

staring at the test in front of her shook her whole world, an entirely different branch of her life she'd never expect to take this soon. it was right in front of her.

despite being together for a year or two shy of a decade, it felt too soon. they were still young, had plenty of parties lined up in the near future. plenty of drunken nights running through the streets of monaco barefooted, hands intertwined as the world was focused on them. how they'd escape to the farthest rooftop, drunken makeouts leading to more as they came together under the stars.

they still had time. time to be what they'd missed as teenagers, to make memories. they had time to spend countless nights, wrapped in each other's arms under cold skies on balconies across countries, discussing their future. when they'd get married, where they'd like to live, if they ever left monaco which seemed unlikely, the places they've yet to see, how many kids they'll have and their names.

time for reckless driving through the streets of monaco with the wind crashing against them, hands raised as they cheered. he always drove to the most beautiful sight in the city, but always claimed it would never come close to the beauty she possessed.

time for runs across the beach in tiny bikinis and swim trunks as they raced on the sand. his arms capturing her waist as he tossed her around, feeling the vibrations of her laughter and screams against his skin. a feeling he'd forever cherish.

it all disappeared with a single faded line. everything she knew about their future collapsed with the test barely bigger than the length of her hand. it would affect everything.

it was conflicting. becoming a mother was all she ever dreamed and talked about, when she became older. she'd mention to her curly-haired boyfriend countless times of her dreams of having the mini versions of him running around the house they shared. the longing to see his eyes and curly hair with features of her own on another warm body. their child.

but she wasn't ready. in her mid-twenties, with years of life left to live child-free. tens of grand prix's to attend in support of her mclaren lover, watching 10 feet away from his car. nights to catch up on hours of sleep she lacked from keeping up with lando's lifestyle.

having a kid swept it all off the table. no more late night dalliances, or getting so drunk to the point where lando would have to pull over the car to hold back her hair as she threw up in the bushes.

no more parties at ungodly hours of the night, watching drunk lando stumble his way to the dj booth, giggling over a glass of alcohol at his actions.

no more sleep. she knew she'd be woken up numerous times in the night from the cries of her child, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give up sleep yet.

and she wasn't sure lando wanted to give up formula one either. obviously, a balance between the two worlds is possible, but she knew he would want to be there with her, and she didn't know if he could.

it scared her. the thought of this changing the dynamic of their relationship on levels she couldn't even begin to think of. she's seen countless videos of how having a child completely changed the way couples worked, good and bad, and she didn't want that fifty-fifty.

she'd sat staring at the test between the tips of her fingers for a solid twenty minutes before she heard a patterned knock she grew familiar with from her beloved boyfriend.

the door muffled his voice just slightly, "darling, you 'right in there?" his hand wrapped around the now cold door handle and twisted it, but it failed to turn as it pressed into his palm.

it was unusual for her to lock the door, she knew he would question it. and she knew she couldn't use the excuse of that she's changing or showering because lando simply didn't care whenever she was. he'd sit and keep her company till she was done with whatever she was doing because it was often what they did. sit in silence, enjoying the presence of one another.

"yeah, I'm fine!" she called out to him in a rushed tone, flinching enough that she nearly dropped the test. she watched as the door knob shook, shoving the stick into the bottom of the trash temporarily. she'd remember to remove it eventually.

she turned on the sink as she hid the box of tests in the depths of the cabinet under the sink. looking at herself in the mirror, she'd wipe away the tears that built in her eyes. she didn't want him to notice, but like always he would.

from the locked door to the second she opened it, he'd watch it. she'd see him leaning on the wall just outside the door, patiently waiting for her to come out to him. he wouldn't question it, he trusted that she would eventually come around to tell him. she always did.

with the frequent trips to the bathroom and the slimmed selection of foods in the fridge, he'd suspect something, but he wouldn't know for sure. not without her word.

because for the time being, it was a secret she kept to herself, as much as she despised secrets. she felt like she was guilty to be hiding something from the person she trusted most in the world.

times when she thought the room was empty, she'd be pacing long ways back and forth with her arms crossed and her face solid. he'd watched her from the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest, mirroring her position slightly.

times when she'd drop whatever she was doing to rush into the bathroom and spill her guts into the toilet as he held her hair and ran his fingers along the nape of her neck. she claimed it was a stomach bug, but he knew better. he also knew better than to question her words so he said nothing, but made a multitude of soups for her to sip on, taking notice of her now acute taste.

times when she'd cry over the tiniest of things, comforting her in his arms while she sobbed against the fabric of his very worn hoodie that happened to be her favorite.

it wasn't a great shock when she first told him. stuttering over her words as she fumbled with the sleeves of his long-sleeve shirt that went well past her fingertips, he could see tears brimming her eyes with her heightened sensitivity.

so when she muttered the words, "i'm pregnant," his world stopped, restarted, reloaded and stopped again when he finally processed the words. though he knew he could've expected it, hearing the confirmation leave her lips left his world tipped sideways.

but he wanted to hear it again, needed to, words breathlessly escaping his lips, "what, love?" he heard her the first time, but he wanted to hear it again. and again and again.

she choked on her words, sobbing out again, "I'm pregnant, lan," he pulled her into his chest, his hand finding it's way to the side of her head as he cradled her, pressing his lips against her hair.

as they swayed, it finally dawned on him, muttering unsure and excitedly against her head, "I'm going to be a dad?" his breathing deepened, his tongue gliding across his lips, then biting at the sensitive flesh. he felt his heart hammer in his chest, nearly comparing to when he first asked the girl out all those years ago. he reminisced the time when the biggest deal he could think of was rejection. now the girl he had crushed on when he was just a teenager just told him she's pregnant. with his kid.

part of him couldn't be happier, they had spent countless nights in bed, lying on their sides facing one another with stupid grins on their faces as they pondered their future together. whatever they wanted, it always had the other in their thoughts and plans.

this was just their plans manifesting faster than they might've hoped, and sure, he wasn't totally certain that it was the right timing after all. but this was their dream, and maybe they just needed time.

time to accept how greatly their life would be affected. he thought about how he'd have to leave her for days, weeks for his career, the few outlying times when she'd travel with him. he knew that would change, leaving her home with a new life to take care of besides her own. he hated the thought of leaving her.

they needed time to think, whether it was together or just by themselves. they needed to figure out how they'd make it through, if they could. which was a question in itself.

they needed to talk because part of her didn't think he would be so accepting of the change life threw them, permanently altering their course of life and the years to follow.

deep inside, they're scared. they knew they would've been, planned or not. it didn't make it any easier. but when he asked such a simple question, it lifted a massive weight that had been carrying on her shoulders. part of her knew he'd always be so accepting. everything is an experience after all.

with every month passed, every growth of the life within her body, he'd mention. he was the nerdy type to compare the size of the baby with fruit. he'd goggle each week with every new development she'd create. it shook his mind to even comprehend. she could make bones, organs and the tiniest lashes of their soon-to-be kid all within the confines of her body. to him, it was sacred.

and of course, he'd tell just about everyone from every team. all the drivers, mechanics, pit crew, team principals, the list goes on and so does his rants about her.

countless photos of appreciation for her on his social media, after all she was carrying his child and he was ecstatic. he'd spent every waking moment he could with her, his hands always somewhere on her, prodominantly on her growing stomach.

when he felt the first kick, he pulled his hand away sharply, looking at her with a dropped jaw and wide eyes, "it kicked me!" he'd exclaim and she slapped his shoulder, scolding him.

"don't call the baby an 'it!'"

"what else am I supposed to call it?" again, earning another slap to his bicep, and he'd look at her with a growing confused look.

"stop slapping me!" he held up his arms in defense as she scowled at him, her arms crossed over her chest. she pursed her lips before sighing as he'd replace his hand on her stomach.

"babe, I don't think this baby likes me," he looked between his hand and her eyes, feeling the movement under his palm. it was a weird sensation, something he'd never expect to feel so soon, or at all.

all she could do was laugh at the stupid expression across his face as he looked back and forth in bewilderment. the warmth from his hand, and the small calluses sent goosebumps across her skin. it incited a smirk to take place on his face, but she slapped it off. he'd expect to feel more of those as the months went by, especially with all the sly comments she'd hear slip past his lips.

with every ultrasound appointment, he'd be there. he'd make sure of it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. she also scheduled them in accordance to his race and where in the world it took place.

every time, his eyes would be locked on the screen that projected his child, a part of him in another life form. a smile always creeping into his face as he held her cold hand. more often than not, he'd get curious and try to become the technician, stealing the equipment out of the professional's hand. his girlfriend would scold him like he was some sort of dog. in response he'd groan, rolling his eyes at her.

he'd still try though, and the technician laughed it off. he'd make comments to her in reassurance, "babe, i've got this," he'd tell him as his hand with the wand came closer to her stomach.

"where's your degree then?" she snapped back, giggling at his sudden pause before he shrugged, waving it off his other hand.

" 's at home."

when the time finally came to birth their new life into the world, god did lando panic. everything he had prepared himself with went out the window when she'd mutter the words he'd been waiting to hear.

"lando," she mumbled as she sat on their couch, turning to him with wide eyes, "I think it's time." her sleeve-covered hands were at her face as she bit nervously on her nails.

he'd stutter over his words, hands in his hair, "you're joking." he'd say repeatedly as he rushed around the apartment, grabbing things. he was the type to grab everything and forget her still on the couch.

she'd call him on her phone when she sees him in his car from the window, through the pain, she laughed at him, "forget something, norris?"

"no, darling, I've got everything-" she'd see his movement pause, his hand returning to his hair, "fuck!"

when he'd come back to help her, she was nearly collapsed with laughter despite the pain she felt through her body.

"stop laughing at me!" he whined but he was laughing with her. nonetheless, they'd get to the car.

she was in labor for hours, crunching on ice chips that he'd fed her carefully. he'd massage her shoulders, hold her hand when contractions got particularly unbearable. he knew not to mumble bullshit words of encouragement, a word of advice from his mum, advice he'd gladly listen to.

instead he'd show her he was there by doing everything she asked until it was time to actually deliver their child they've been waiting 9 months to finally meet.

with a pale face, lando would comment, "I think one kid is fine after all." she'd roll her eyes at his words as she held their daughter in her arms, already seeing themselves in her. she was exhausted and he knew. he put her hair up, cooing words of appreciation to her now that all was done. he took care of her.

he'd remember call his mum later to tell her thank you.

[goldengleams]

hiii pookie 😙 i've never requested anything so, feel free to do anything you want but w matt rempe pls? 🩷 ily!

come back to bed | m. rempe

hope you enjoy sof!!! love you my cutie!

You rolled over in bed, having just woke up from a dream and wanting to reposition yourself in Matt’s arms. You let out a soft whine when you realized he wasn’t next to you in bed.

“Matt?” You whispered. You lifted yourself up on your elbows to squint at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 3:29 AM.

Reluctantly arising from your warm bed, you quietly walked down the hallway. You carried a blanket for Matt in case he was asleep on the couch, which wasn’t uncommon if he was watching hockey. The bathroom light wasn’t on, nor was the light near your television. In your sleepy haze, you heard a glass clinking as it was set down. Bingo.

Finally, you spotted Matt sitting on a stool by the kitchen island. His hunched figure was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the candle that was lit in front of him. The scent of vanilla entered your nose as you drew closer.

“Matt, why are you up? It’s three in the morning,” You called in a whisper. He whipped his head towards you, startled by your presence.

“Geez, you scared me Y/N,” he chuckled softly. Matt’s hair was strewn about, the product of him running his hands through it incessantly and his leg bounced up and down.

“Sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, stepping closer to him to wrap him up in the blanket. “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Yeah, just couldn’t stop thinking about today,” he sighed, mumbling a soft thank you. He was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Your sleep-addled brain was not ready to comprehend big feelings, but you wanted to be there for him.

“It’s finally happening,” you said, smiling. “I’m so excited for you.”

Matt nodded, focusing his attention on the cup in front of him. He traced the rim with his finger, lost in thought once again.

You were overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu as you watched him in the ambient light. You and Matt had met two years ago. At the time, you were a college student in Connecticut and Matt was playing hockey in Hartford. You had met through a dating app and while it didn’t seem like you had anything in common, Matt had won you over pretty easily. Both of you were set on living in New York City-you wanted to do more schooling and Matt was hoping to be called up by the New York Rangers. After many date nights, hockey games, and one graduation, you were both closer to living your dreams. You had been waiting for the day that Matt came and stayed at your apartment while preparing to play for the Rangers.

But, it was never without some bumps in the road.

You knew you’d never understand what Matt went through as a hockey player, but for the past two weeks, you had tried to be there for him. He’d received the call from the Rangers in the beginning of February to play, but he hadn’t gotten any playing time. That would change today when he made his debut.

“Your family is so excited too, I can’t wait to sit next to Steph and Alley and cheer you on,” you tried again. It was true, in a few hours, you would be driving with Matt’s family to MetLife Stadium to watch his NHL debut. You couldn’t be happier for him.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and it’s, like, here. Feel like I’ve waited for so long and I just want it to go well. Especially today.”

“It’ll go well, babe. You know that,” you said. You made your way to sit next to him at the other stool. Matt and his family had been thinking of his Dad who had passed away and you knew that it would be a huge deal for him to make his debut on his anniversary. You reached out for his hand and gently traced a pattern onto his palm.

“You’re going to make your family so proud, Matt. Especially your Dad.”

Matt released a shuddering breath he had been holding in for far too long. He pulled the blanket tighter around his broad shoulders, a chill running through him from the seasonal February weather.

“What if I’m nobody?” Matt whispered it so quietly you’re not sure you would’ve heard it if it wasn’t silent. The doubts of not being good enough swarmed in his mind.

“First of all, you won’t be nobody, Matt. And I know that the people in your circle wouldn’t care if you scored a hundred goals or zero, or ever played with the Rangers. You’ll always be somebody to us,” you said softly. “You’ll always be someone to me.”

You brought his knuckles to your lips and gave a soft kiss. You watched the tension leave his shoulders and he quickly reached over to give you a kiss. He leaned into you easily.

“There’s my boy,” you said against his lips.

“Thank you,” Matt said. “And thanks for listening to me at 3 in the morning.”

You chuckled. “Technically it’s 4 now, so you should come back to bed and cuddle me until your stupid alarm goes off at 7.”

Matt blew out the candle and stood up from the stool. You made grabby hands at Matt, which he quickly took and led the two of you back to bed. You both climbed in bed and Matt wrapped the blanket around both of you to keep warm.

“Love you baby,” he mumbled, already drifting off. His hair tickled your ear as he moved closer to you. “Gonna score for you tonight.”

“Yeah and you better not get in any fights, Rempe.”

“Mmm, no promises.”

——————————————————————

Enjoy this Matt Rempe blurb and go request more in my inbox! 😋😋

[miaoua3]

hey!! popping in to say stay the morning was just 🧎‍♀️perfect. cld i request for some boyfriend ceo cheol hcs? <3 cant get enough of that trope omg.

LOVE UR WORK SM BAE

heya! thank you so much for the nice words! and sure i can, it would be my pleasure🫶

CEO! Seungcheol Boyfriend Headcanons:

• (sfw headcanons)

met you at some fancy dinner that you were accompanying your friend to, literally saw you across the room and couldn’t look away, literally stopped listening to whoever it was that he was talking to, said a brief “excuse me” before he immediately approached you to ask you for your name, the rest is history❤️

boyfriend or a sugar daddy? well- both actually. he literally gets mad if you even dare to think about paying for something with your own money, his black card has its first and foremost place in your wallet so you better be using it

although he indulges in buying you expensive and extravagant presents, cheol is actually all about small actions of affection. randomly ordering you food while you are at work, sending you flowers, tying your shoes when they come undone, holding your hand while you walk down the stairs in heels to make sure you don’t fall-he does it all and does it without even having to think twice about it, that’s how much he loves and adores you

has his kitchen filled to the brim with all the sweets and treats that you absolutely love, you definitely will put on a bit of a healthy relationship weight when you start dating him

never lets you drive to his place, always either picks you up himself or has his driver pick you up, not because he thinks you can’t but because he’d rather not risk it and just because he thinks it isn’t necessary, his princess shouldn’t be doing anything except look pretty and give him tons of kisses❤️

definitely books and pays for all the activities you have always wanted to try like your dream concerts, sky diving (if you are into dying like that lol💀) etc- just anything to make his girl happy

didn’t even ask you to move in officially, he just hung an extra key to your keychains, started insisting that you stay the night (every night actually) and eventually…your place was empty and his place was filled with your things and that made him so so happy❤️

behind the cold and moody persona he puts up as a cover is the clingiest, babiest boyfie seungcheolie ever :(( will text you all the time, asking when you will be back so you can cuddle him, “its been so long since you cuddled him last :(“ (its been 3 hours….)

is absolutely miserable when he has to go away for some business trips, literally counts the days until he comes back home to you❤️

• (nsfw! headcanons)

definitely provider both in and outside the bedroom, he will always put your pleasure first, refuses for his bedroom life to be just something quick and simple, will always spend hours just making love to you until he knows that you are 100% satisfied

LOVES spending his money on lingerie and expensive jewellery for you to wear in bed, he thinks there’s nothing hotter than you clad in red lacy lingerie and with rubies hanging from your ears and neck, he finds it so hot that HE was the one to buy all of that and finds it even hotter that HE is the only one who has the privilege to take it all off (read: rip it all off)

possessive as fuck, is always asking you “who is my good girl?, on nights where he is jealous and feeling pissed might even let the words “who do you belong to?” slip out, but like not in a misogynistic and egotistical way, but more so in a “i can’t live without you in my life so i need you to remind me that you will want to be with me forever :(“ way

doesn’t want to risk it with shower sex because you almost slipped and fell one time and gave him a mini heart attack, bathtub sex however? lets just say he always has to clean up the water that has splashed outside the bathtub while you rode him to the point he saw heaven

not really into bondage but loves to restrict your movement with his hands alone, gets him off knowing he’s strong enough to manhandle you in ways he desires

loves your ass more than anything else in the world, his favourite position is 100% doggy or fucking you in front of a mirror with your back turned towards him so he can see both your face and your ass

big on leaving hickeys all over your body, he just wants to mark what is his so everyone can know to back. the fuck. off. of his girl (loves it when you do it to him too, he just wants the whole world to know that you two are each other’s person, even if it’s because of the hickeys littered all over his collarbones

low-key into voyeurism, likes the danger of being discovered (and getting into a scandal apparently smh bro doesn’t care about his public image he’s just thinking with his dick)

i said it once and i will say it again- my man has a praise kink and that’s the end of it, he just loves reassuring you and praising you how good you are doing and how good of a girl you are being for him, would never call you the b-word, you are his princess, his baby, not…that word :(( (well unless you insist to-)

thats all i got for now😭 hope that you like it! love you mwah💋

[reidsdimples]

Feverish- 3- Finale

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️

Part 2

Spencer’s still sick, but clear headed enough to know he wants to try again with you.

A/N- this was highly requested. Kind of felt finished after the first two but I hope this concludes it well 🫶🏻

"No!" Spencer screams and thrashes in his sleep.

"Hey hey," you roll over and press a hand to his chest. He's drenched in sweat and clearly running a temperature still.

You hear him mumble an all too familiar name in his sleep, the source of most of his nightmares.

"Maeve, no.," its barely audible.

"Spence," you rub his chest again. His shirt is sticking to him so you start carefully tugging it up his body as he stirs awake. "You were having a nightmare," you whisper.

He helps you get the shirt off and pulls you onto him. You nearly protests but he's holding onto you desperately as though you might slip away.

This was night three and you had hope that tomorrow would bring him relief from this awful flu. He groaned in pain against you before a coughing fit forced him to roll over on his side, sending you back to your side of the bed.

“Hold on honey,” you try not to overthink the term of endearment that came to you naturally.

You grab the NyQuil liquid which you know he hates but give it to him anyway. It works faster than the pills.

You brush his damp hair back from his forehead and help him get adjusted in bed.

“Here,” you push a cough drop into his mouth and he scrunches his nose at the taste.

“You big baby,” you tease. He smiles weakly.

It’s three am according to the clock so you crawl back into bed. You turn on your side to see him facing you, his face in his hand as he watched you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs.

“Shh,” you shush him and wipe underneath his eyes which are watering from being sick.

“The first time I saw you, I finally understood why the sun rises every morning. I had a purpose,” he whispers and regards you with those brown eyes that melt your heart.

“Spencer,” you breathe and cup his cheek. He blinks. “I missed you too.”

The small smile that plays on his lips feels like the answer to a question you didn’t know to ask.

“Sleep my love,” you comfort him.

“Say it again,” he pleads.

“My love,” you humor him. It melts your heart, he’s so vulnerable right now. You want to just hold him and protect him.

“My love.”

He falls asleep as you gently rub his scalp.

-

Something stirs you awake hours later. At first you think you’re dreaming- a dirty dream about Spencer which you have more often than you should. You moan which pulls you out of sleep completely.

Your eyes dart open and the sensation you’d been feeling wasn’t in your head at all.

“Good morning, well, afternoon,” Spencer purrs. He’s planting kisses on your stomach, biting and nipping at your skin while his strong hand cups your tit.

“Aren’t you sick?” You giggle and sit up.

“I. Feel. Better.” He breaths as he kisses down to your hip bones and tightens his grip on your breast. Your nipple hardens and he pinches it through the thin tank top.

“Mmm, Spencer,” it’s meant to come off as a warning but he looks up at your through long lashes and messy hair.

“Spencer you still have a fever,” you swat at him after feeling his forehead.

“So?” He whimpers. You’re dumbfounded at the way he can feel so bad but be so horny. He always did have a high sex drive though.

He hooks his long fingers into your panties and beginnings to tug them down. Your heart flutters in anticipation.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” You reason as he begins kissing your inner thighs, discarding your underwear somewhere behind him.

“You moaned my name in your sleep. How often does that happen?” He pants against your inner thigh and then bites down. You wince.

You grab his face and drag him up your body.

“I’m serious,” you pull him into a kiss and he tastes like mint. It’s refreshing from his sick smell he’s carried for days. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore, weak, but not as bad,” he answers and kisses you deeper now. You allow his tongue to flick over yours as his hand grips your hip and squeezes.

He’s pushing and grinding his hips against you. He’s still shirtless, only wearing boxers, and it drives you crazy as he invades your mouth.

“I want to give this another shot,” he pleads and kisses your neck.

“Mmmm,” you can’t speak.

“Please,” he kisses your shoulder. Then he kisses the swell of your breast, his pleading eyes locked with yours.

He nuzzles into your skin again, desperately needing your closeness before leaning to the side to cough into his arm. You look at him sympathetically.

“You need to focus more on resting, Doctor,” you scold him.

“My fever is low grade and I’m over the worst of it,” he pauses. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Right,” you play with his hair absentmindedly.

“I’m serious, it’s only 100.6,” he laughs. “Honestly though, I feel more clear headed and..” he trails off.

“And?” You cup his cheeks which smooshes his face slightly. He’s still between your legs, laying on your stomach.

“Part of me is mortified at my behavior the past few days,” he speaks slowly. “Part of me wants to,” he starts running a hand up your shirt.

“Spencer Reid, are you objectifying me?” You opt to joke because you’ve shamelessly enjoyed his unfiltered behavior.

“Do you wanna be objectified?” He kisses your stomach. Heat crawls up your face.

“Only by you,” you admit and run your thumb across his plump lips. He smiles at you, shyly but there’s relief in it.

“So is that a yes? You want to give this another shot?” He asks, beaming.

“Yes Spence,” you sigh and he crawls up your body once more to kiss you.

The kiss becomes more heated when you feel his erection pressed against your bare cunt. His boxers offer little resistance to the friction against you.

“Please, I need it,” he begs breathlessly into the crook of your neck as he rolls his hips into you. He’s pitiful whimpering and shameless begging has wetness gathering between your thighs.

You nod.

“Mhmm, I need you too,” you whisper and he latches his mouth into your shoulder. He sucks hard and you can feel him leaving a mark as he moans against you. The sensation has you bucking your hips against him, feeling his cock rubbing up between your folds.

You lose track of time for a moment, now realizing he had pulled himself free of his boxers as he bites and kisses your neck. Your moans blend together and he begins pressing his cock into you.

You pull your legs up and back and he adjusts himself so that he can enter you at exactly the correct angle that he knows drives you crazy.

And it does.

The head of his cock grazed upward towards your g-spot and you stop breathing as your walls remember how to fit around him.

“Oh god…” he shudders and plants wet desperate kisses along your jaw and chest. He pumps himself in slower, torturously slow as though he’s afraid one or both of you with shatter if he’s not careful.

“Spencer,” you whimper.

Both of you are moaning and whimpering messes as he rolls his hips, moving in and out of you. His arms shake and you can tell the sickness is getting to him.

You bring him flat onto you, and kiss him. Then you’re forcing him onto his back so that you’re on top of him. He grunts and moans as you sink all the way down in one swift movement. His eyes blow wide as he exhales.

“So good, Spence,” you roll your head back and remove your tank top. You give him the full view of your body and he grapples at you. He grips your hips, your waist, your breast, your thighs as you ride him.

You roll your hips, keeping him deep inside and his eye brows furrow. You know he’s getting close, you are too.

“I’ve missed you inside of me baby,” you mewl as you move up and down on his length.

“I miss it… ah,” his words are cut off when your walls clench around him. Your orgasm bursts through you suddenly.

You throw yourself forward and grip his hair as you continue to move your hips and ride out your orgasm against him. His head is forced back as you pull his hair, giving you perfect access to his throat.

You continue to ride him as you kiss and lick at him hungrily. You let him hear every moan and whimper of pleasure until he tenses below you.

“Finish in me baby, it’s fine,” you plead.

When he cums, he does so loudly. You latch your mouth over his and absorb the moans as he shoots ribbons of hot cum into you. His chest and face are now coated in a thin layer of sweat but he kisses you passionately.

You pull back from the kiss and look at him. He regards you with the most content expression, a small grin tugging at the side of his lips. You pull yourself off of him and lay beside him so you’re half sprawled on his chest.

“I never stopped loving you,” he speaks softly as his long fingers play in your hair.

“Neither did I,” you admit and kiss his chest.

Never in a million years could you have guessed that you’d get a second chance with the love of your life because of a flu.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“No more sex until you’ve been fever free for 24 hours. Now take some of that medicine,” you sit up and point to it on the table closest to him.

He lets out a breathy laugh but does as he’s told.

[ahhnini]

let you break my heart again - rafe cameron x reader

your relationship with rafe is nothing more than a twisted fantasy

warnings - fake dating, rafe breaks reader’s heart, fluff, angst, degradation (not in a kinky way), not proofread!

a/n - based off a dream I had of rafe, kind of in a writing slump so pls send in reqs! <3

when rafe cameron came knocking at your doorstep at two in the morning, face angry, you were more than confused. you two have never been that close, however, the forced proximity of figure eight led you two to form an acquaintance with another. when you had asked him what was going on, he barged into your house, gripping onto the sides of your shoulders like you were gonna fly away. he looked up at you, eyes red. then, you heard him say words that you didn’t think he’d ever utter to you, “I need you to be my girlfriend.”

so that’s how you ended up here, laughing with the camerons’ on their yacht, sailing the sea. it’s been a month since you’ve agreed to be rafe’s “girlfriend” and everyone on the island bought it. they’ve never known that much about you anyways, so when he started parading you around, everyone began to gossip how rafe cameron charmed the mystery girl of kildare island.

you felt a kiss on your cheek as you pour yourself another drink. “you doin’ okay?” rafe asks as he begins to pour himself a whiskey shot. you nod your head, looking up at him while he downs his drink, “good,” he wipes his lips, walking away to talk to his father. you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. this was harder than you thought, especially when you feel butterflies in your stomach every time he shows an ounce of affection to you.

you made a promise to yourself that this was definitely a no strings attached situation. he would get you around the island, introducing you to valuable connections, while his reputation would change to be a better one. it was a win-win. you didn’t really think about the other factors, like the fact that you’ve had a secret crush on the infamous kook prince since you were twelve.

you really shouldn’t be feeding into your delusions like this; it’s unhealthy. that’s what you keep telling yourself, but each time you see him, you can’t help but have a smidge of optimism, that he actually likes you, wants you.

your heart breaks in the serene island of guadalupe, tears streaming down your face as rafe yells at you in the costal house bedroom. “why would I ever like you, y/n! the only reason why we’re doing this is for my reputation, for my dad to trust me again, for me to show my family that i’ve changed! you don’t mean anything to me, stop thinking i’m actually in love with you, because i’m not! I don’t even think I’d wanna be friends with you,” he huffs, cornering you to a wall. he lifts your chin, observing your tear stricken face, “cry all you want, but that’s not gonna help me change the way I feel.” he backs off, turning around to enter the bathroom, “i’m gonna take a shower, clean yourself off, make yourself presentable. we have dinner in two hours.”

you sip on your latte, waiting for rafe to get back home. you sat like a wife who’s husband spent too much time in the office. except he wasn’t your husband, he was just…a guy. you hear the front door shut, immediately shuffling to greet him. “hey, what are you doin’ here?” he slurred, breath reeking of alcohol. “uh—wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all!” you fidgeted with your hands. he let out a soft hum, “you can spend the night if you want to, y/n, i’m going to topper’s,” you look up at him, meeting his dilated pupils, “wha—huh? you’re gonna drive to topper’s?” rafe rolls his eyes, nodding, “yeah, I am—” “no! I can’t let you do that, let me drive you, c’mon—” he sighs, giving in, and you thank the alcohol has made him less stubborn, “fine.”

you pulled up to topper’s house, the porch light on and inviting. you speak up after the silent drive there, “um—are you sure you want to spend the night at topper’s? we can always go back if you want” he shakes his head, turning towards you. “no, i’m sick of your shit, y/n. always treatin’ me like I can’t take care of myself. guess what,” he points at himself, “I can take care of my own shit, okay? I don’t need you,” he rushes out of the car, stumbling up the porch stairs, disappearing behind the house door.

you stay there for a couple of moments, sniffling. during the drive back to the camerons’—yes, you were staying the night, you needed to take care of rafe for when he was hungover—you reflected on your relationship with him. how one day he’d treat you like you were his queen, the next he’d treat you like you were dirt. you can’t stop your feelings, no matter how hard you tried to repress them, they always end up coming out. you know you don’t deserve this. you deserve someone who actually loves you, not someone who’s using you. but…rafe…you can’t imagine being with someone who’s not him. that night, you lay down on his bed, fantasizing the perfect life with rafe, waiting for him to come back tomorrow morning.

you swallow, telling yourself you’d be fine being with him, being in this arrangement. even if he’ll never love you back, you’d let him break your heart over and over again.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt

[ohmyrashi]

story time!! 💛

so today i had a plan to get a haircut at 12:30 and then meet someone at a department store at 3:00. the haircut only took about 20 mins so i was left with almost two hours to kill.

used the bathroom in the hair salon, then went to a nearby restaurant to grab lunch. ordered a diet coke and ended up finishing it pretty quick bc it was rly hot out today and i was thirsty from the walk. waitress brought me a refill without even asking and i ended up finishing that too.

still had like half an hour to kill, ended up going to a cafe to read my book. ordered a 16 oz iced tea, finished about half of it and took the rest with me to the car when it was time to head out. and, i cannot emphasize enough, i WENT TO THE BATHROOM at the cafe before i left!! i'm no fool!! i've been an omo lover long enough to know what two sodas and an iced tea were gonna do to my bladder!! but i wasn't planning on holding or anything so i figured i'd be safe and go like a responsible adult!!

except i think that the bulk of the liquid hadn't hit me yet, or maybe my bladder is still sensitive from the other night, because almost as soon as i got in my car, i was needing to pee again.

and y'all. it got SO bad so ridiculously fast. and it was a 30 minute drive 😭

by like 7 minutes in my bladder was achingly full, and the pressure just kept getting more and more acute until i was shifting around and making little noises of discomfort in my throat at red lights. the whole drive was through residential neighborhoods and on the highway, nowhere convenient to stop. and anyways, it was a short enough drive that i would have felt silly stopping on the way. but it was getting hard to think about anything than how swollen and heavy my bladder felt in my abdomen and how much i wanted to empty it. (for the record, i was still able to drive safely, if it was so bad that i couldn't i would have pulled over. don't distracted drive for any reason kids)

ofc this was all also super fucking hot, bc as much fun as getting desperate on purpose is there's really nothing like when it happens organically, and in a situation where you can't relieve yourself.

made it to the store, parked in the parking lot, speed walked inside. now as i mentioned, this is a department store, which means it is huge and has multiple levels. looked around and didn't see signs for a bathroom anywhere. bladder absolutely bursting.

looked frantically for an associate, finally spotted one folding clothes, hurried over and asked politely where the bathroom was. next floor, in the far corner. so far away. help

found the escalator, walked up it, started looking around for the bathroom, no sign of it anywhere!! i felt like i was having a pee dream, stuck searching through this huge store for a toilet with my bladder about to explode!

found ANOTHER associate, asked AGAIN where the bathroom was, and i think there was a certain tone in my voice/look on my face/tension in my posture cause she started giving me directions and then was just like "--you know what, i'll walk you there" 😳🙈

FINALLY made it to a stall, didn't bother locking the door, danced and gasped while i got my shorts down, and thundered Niagara Falls out into the toilet 😩🥰😮‍💨

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓸 𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼

Dads best friend!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: For years he’d lived in your head like a distant memory. Something too good, too far away to attain. You shouldn’t be so hurt he’d left his old life behind, but how could you not be, when you had been such a big part of it? But you can’t hold a grudge. Not when he’s standing in front of you– doing everything to prove he’s not a stranger.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, dads best friend trope, morally questionable relationship, minor angst, chunky age gap [reader is in her 20s Javi is in his 40s], banter, lotsa sweet moments, explicit language, explicit sexual content, couch sex, inebriated sex, cigarette and weed smoking, alcohol, dom!javi, sub!reader, pet names [cariño, baby, babygirl etc.], dirty talk, major praise kink! [lotsa good girl action iykwim] some over the clothes action, grinding, fingering, unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything!! <;3

Word count: 12.8k oops

A/N: Oof this took longer than I thought it would but I’m so excited for you to read it. Javier is the man of my dreams here 🥺. lotsa porn for you nasties. morally questionable relationship fr but it’s fiction so we’ll forgive Javi. I hope you darlings enjoy! Mwah 💗

Masterlist

Swinging in the backyard

Pull up in your fast car

Whistling my name

Open up a beer

And you say, "Get over here

And play a video game"

The last time you saw him you remember all but tackling him to the ground as he walked through your front door. He had bought you a special edition copy of your favourite Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, and DVDs of ‘film noir’ movies– the kind your dad didn’t like you watching. You spent the days reading as he smoked cigars by your pool, and you remember your father joking about his ‘bad influence’ as he poured you drinks in the evenings. 

That was several years ago, and now all you had left of him was a hazy memory of that distant summer, a fading image of his golden eyes glittering in the setting sun, and your copy of “The Little Mermaid”. That had been the last that he’d visited you– before his work got in the way, before he decided he’d rather stay in Bogotá than come home. 

Your life had gone on, and while every year you wondered whether he’d make his grand appearance, as you grew older you came to terms with the realisation that it would just be you and your old man lounging on the patio on those treasured, warm, golden evenings. At university you were pursuing those dreams you always wanted to, the ones your father wasn’t so keen on you chasing, the ones you’d confess to him when he would drive you around the city–  to that faraway ice cream place no one else would take you to. 

He was all cigarettes and whiskey and secret promises.

“He’ll literally kill us, it's midnight.” It was too late, he was grabbing his keys and jacket, and despite your better judgement the thought of the fairy lights by the beach as you walked with your mint chocolate chip cones had you giggling as you followed him out the door. It was your 18th birthday. “He doesn’t need to know now, does he, cariño?” 

He’d telephone your father once in a while, you knew because your house would fill with laughter only invoked by one culprit. You wondered what adventures he was on, were they like the ones he’d tell you as you sat by his side till the early hours of the morning? You wondered if he even remembered– remembered you. 

But now you were in Bogotá, in the sweltering June heat, suitcase in hand, scanning the crowd for a face you barely remembered. You were scared, stupidly so, worried that your physical proximity would do nothing to mend his distance. You worried he wouldn't see you as he did before, wouldn't remember your inside jokes, your mischief, how you’d beg him to take you to that dance bar because your dad didn’t like you going alone. That he had somehow morphed into someone you couldn't recognize. You felt hot all over once again, and this time no thanks to the summer sun. 

Your head turned left to right, and you spotted among the crowd families reuniting, couples kissing hello, young people returning home, lone travellers, lonely travellers, and in the hustle bustle a black leather jacket walking briskly towards you. He looked older, and tired, but his eyes still sparkled the way you remembered, still turned golden when they met the sun. From the distance he spotted you, and you watched expectantly as his furrowed brows relaxed into a calm, almost surprised expression. You felt a little short of breath, felt suddenly larger than life, as he neared you, your mind spinning and hoping, praying that he was still the man you knew. 

“What have you done with my cariño?” 

He was looking down at you with that same smile. Everything about him was really the same. He still smelt like tobacco and cedarwood perfume, still wore the same leather jacket, the same faded, button up shirt– with the first two buttons undone. In a moment you felt your mind's eye reconstruct those waning images of him you once cherished, from the dells of memory. And now you saw him vividly, reclining in his chair, sipping his whiskey, leaning on your porch, hair falling in his face in soft curls as he lit his cigarette. 

He was a lot more handsome than you recalled. 

“Hi” You were smiling so wide your face hurt, and despite the years of his absence there was a familiarity you found comfort in, a sense of belonging, and maybe naively… longing. His hands moved to grab you by the shoulders, and he stepped back to get a good look at you, almost examining how time had passed. “Lookat’ ya, university girl now huh, smart cookie?” The way he looked at you had your heart pitter pattering– with so much pride, and gentleness, and adoration. 

Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms, holding your head against him. Waves of calm washed over you, an immediate reassurance you were desperate for. It was his non reluctance, his lack of worry, the way he brought you into his arms like nothing else mattered.  With a heavy sigh you collapsed into him, all the uneasiness you felt before melting away as you melted into his touch. He felt warm, and strong, and like you’d remembered. 

He was everything you’d remembered. 

You felt yourself relax. It had been a long day, a long time getting away from your father, who, despite the fact that you had been living alone for years now, had called you about a thousand times – reminding you to take all your things, to be careful, and importantly to not get into any trouble. 

If there was one thing everyone knew about Javier, it was that he was trouble, trouble, trouble. 

He was still smiling when he gently pulled away, still looking at you with the same enthusiasm. He was happy to see you. He chuckled as he let go of your shoulders, and you felt your chest swarm with butterflies when he grabbed you by the hand and twirled you around, and in typical Javier fashion produced a white lily from his shirt pocket, and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Welcome to Bogotá cariño” 

You felt your cheeks heat. For as long as you could remember you pretty much idolised him, and the longer you didn’t see him the more distant and adored he had become.  You had worked that distant memory up so much, the memory of that fateful summer, that he’d come to be a symbol of fear and dread in your head. At least until that moment.

You felt silly for ever thinking he’d be different. And there he was, standing right in front of you, putting flowers behind your ear. You mumbled a soft thank you, securing the lily, which was inadvertently an excuse not to meet his overwhelming gaze. 

“Your old man give you a hard time on the way up?”  

You laughed as you rolled your eyes. If there was one person who knew how much of a stickler for organisation and responsibility your father was, it was him. “He gave me an entire list of things to not do”. Javier’s deep baritone joined your laughter, and he shook his head in faux irritation at the mention of his best friend. 

Reaching down for your bags he leaned beside your ear, and you felt your heart race when you turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze– at that glimmer in his eyes, his mischievous smile, and raised brow. 

“Well, he’s no fun now, is he?” 

And with that he was heading towards the exit. 

—

I'm in his favourite sundress

Watchin' me get undressed

Take that body downtown

I say, "You the bestest"

Lean in for a big kiss

Put his favourite perfume on

Go play your video game

“He says I'm like you, y’know?” You leaned your elbow on the open window, knees to your chest as you sat curled up in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes were on the road, but his attention remained on you, and you were instantaneously reminded of your trips to the pier, your mint chocolate chip ice creams, and innocent secrets. 

You felt warm and fuzzy inside, and your eyes wandered the beautiful Colombian city –the colours, and the smell of summer flowers, and food as it wafted out of the mom and pop restaurants you passed. 

“Yeah, you a troublemaker?” He glanced at you momentarily, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes. “”M not, but he thinks Dora’s wreckless for wandering around without her parents.`` His laugh was hearty and he had that smile, that tilt of his head you were sure had all the women around him swooning. You felt your cheeks heat at the thought, especially when he chided you. “Cariño” he dragged out every syllable of that treasured pet name, shaking his head, and raising his brows in your direction, teasingly. “Okay.. maybe I like to have a little fun, but I’m still not like you.” 

Letting out an exaggerated gasp his head whipped towards you. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?!” Your head was buzzing, he's still the same, the same. 

“I’m good.” He rounded the corner, and you couldn’t help but wonder who else had been in the passenger side of his car, getting this view you so cherished. You didn’t know why you cared, or why you were even wondering in the first place. It wasn’t any of your business, but somewhere deep down it made your heart ache. 

“I know you are honey.. Thought your dad was gonna’ have a fuckin’ heart attack when he called me.” You could only imagine. The poor man. The thought of him persuading Javier to convince you to stay with him for the sake of his peace of mind making you giggle. 

“Can you blame him? It was either you or Maria, and somehow you're the better of the two evils.” When you decided to come to Bogotá you originally planned to stay with one of your  close friends from university. She had offered you a room in her apartment for as long as you needed. The both of you had applied for the same summer program, and were looking forward to spending your vacation together. That was before you confessed that a certain somebody also lived in Bogotá. A somebody you weren’t initially keen on meeting again. Somebody you had planned to avoid at any cost during your stay. 

You weren’t really sure why– if you wanted to keep him away out of spite, or convenience, or fear, but all you did know was that when Maria had practically forced you to ask your dad to give Javier a call you were nothing short of petrified. She would not let it go, even said you’d regret not meeting him, better yet staying with him after how much you’d talked him up in the time you knew her. She was so confident she placed a bet you’d give up her house for his in less than forty eight hours. 

“I’m a cop, I’m the obvious choice here cariño” His confidence was charming. He was deceptively charming. 

“Yeah. A terrible one.” 

“Was a little shocked you wanted to see me..” sometimes you really thought he could read your mind. Not just in that moment, in fact he had a habit of hitting on right whatever you were thinking about, whatever was bothering you, things you felt you couldn’t tell anyone else because they wouldn’t understand. You were not sure if and how you wanted to respond, and if you did honestly whether he would know how much the whole situation had preoccupied you. 

“Strictly practical. Wanted to see if you remembered me..” 

“‘Course I remember you, been haunting me like a little ghost since I last visited..”. you thought you might just explode at his teasing. You asked yourself if he was being truthful, if he truly thought about you, about how he’d up and left. 

“You’re the one that disappeared into thin air!” Undeniably, despite the laughter and banter there was a tension in the air– floating between the two of you heavy and low. But what was he expecting?  

Thankfully, the car came to a slow and gradual stop at the side of a small side street, where you spotted a small glass door over which flowers blooming from the floor above had been cascading. “Where are we?” 

“Mint chocolate chip”  One hand on the wheel, the other grabbing his keys, he looked at you as he spoke, so matter of factly it made your heart flutter. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “No pier, or fairy lights though, and no thrill of running from your papa.” 

He remembered. 

Heart bursting with love ache, you weren’t really sure what to say. As if he had anticipated your fears he seemed like he was coaxing you into your natural rhythm. Reminding you he wasn’t some stranger whose house you were staying in out of convenience. That you knew him, and that he knew you, remembered you. 

“Thank god for the last one..” The memory fluttered between you two– the same thoughts, hovering between your heads. He was opening the door, taking a quick check of the traffic. You stayed put, finding your bearings. With one hand extended he beckoned you towards him, offering his arm when you hopped out the car on wobbly feet.  “Oh hush, you loved it, cariño. And he knew, I told him the next day.”

With locked arms you crossed the street, and as if no time had passed you had squished yourself to his side, and had smacked him against the shoulder lightly at his admission. “What?! Traitor!” 

“I handled it.” He sounded quite impressed with himself, and when you tilted your head and locked eyes with him you noticed how he looked quite impressed as well. You pressed your cheek against his arm, the leather of his jacket brushing against your warm cheeks.

“You were always the fun one.”

A large ‘OPEN’ sign stared you blank in the face, that was until Javier had gently tucked a finger under your chin, and delicately directed your eyes towards him. “He’s your dad, ‘s not supposed to be the fun one..” he softly remarked, his smile remained, and you felt nothing but warmth, and comfort from his presence. 

The moment fell naturally, and he reached forward to pull the door open for you, letting skip ahead of him and into the store.  “Feels like my 18th all over again.” 

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You're the boss Peña, give me the word, and it’s done.” You caught Javier’s reflection in the mirror as you sat down to get ready. Fresh out the shower it took about three seconds for the summer heat to get back at you. He liked to keep his place freezing, and at times like that you could only be grateful– the cool air soothing your scorched skin. 

Carillo, Murphy– you could recognize the voices as they bounced off the wall, the same men you’d met when they barged into his home unceremoniously at six in the morning. You would have preferred to meet them in actual clothes rather than your pyjamas, and maybe outside instead of infront of your concerningly large cup of coffee, but they seemed to be used to finding unexpected guests in Javier’s apartment early in the morning. 

Regardless of the fact that they’d interrupted your quiet breakfast with Javier, they were really nice people. Carillo’s wife even sent some snacks over with him the next time he visited. One because she wanted you to try the local food, and two because “Javier had nothing in his kitchen.” 

“I will. soon as that dick Stechner gets out of my fuckin’ way” reaching to put you necklace on you watched as Javier moved out of your field of vision for a quick moment, returning with a glass filled with ice and an ashtray. What were they talking about? You never really asked about his job, you'd tried to talk him out of it many times, but he never budged. One day he hated it, one day he didn’t. 

What he was like at work was a point of endless curiosity for you– he just seemed so different. If you were being honest he seemed like an asshole. In the few times you’d seen him interact with his partners he’d barely cracked a smile, trading in his joking and teasing for curt jabs or looks of disapproval. He also admittedly liked ordering people around, telling them what to do. His phone rang about five thousand times a day, and each answered call was punctuated with an air of control, indifference, and the steady and constant confidence of a man who knew what the hell he was doing. And did not like to be questioned about it. The only people who seemed to break the ice were the two he was speaking to at that moment. 

“Javi, think this one through, don’t be fuckin crazy.” The voices drowned out as you put your attention back to getting ready. Maria was right. By the time you called her the evening of your arrival you had abandoned all plans to escape Javier's home for hers. She was in hysterics, endlessly pulling your leg over the whole situation. Your overthinking, your panic, your regret, and most obviously your complete infatuation. 

She had picked you up the next morning, and had impersonated you the entire ride to the university. You hoped that you didn’t sound the way she said you did when you spoke of him, that you weren’t all heart eyes. It only made you worried about what you sounded like when you spoke to him. 

With your bag tucked under your arm you grabbed your shoes off the floor, heading towards the dining table. “You got work this evening?” you were hoping he didn’t. His eyes lifted off his work to watch you shuffle around the small kitchen.  Opening the fridge you grabbed a bottle of chilled water, and leaned against the closed door as you spoke. 

“Depends if they call me in, they’re tracking some radio signals so we’re sitting tight till then.” He was leaning back in his chair in absolute exhaustion. Knowing that his day started around seven thirty, and never seemed to end, you didn't blame him. The few days you had been staying at his place he’d join you for dinner and be right back to work in a second. This job of his pretty much consumed him, and judging by his commitment you understood why he had no time for anyone or anything else. The guy was practically married to his job. His job and his co-workers, that is. You wouldn’t be surprised if Murphy and Carillo’s wives were envious of how much quality time Javier got to spend with their husbands. 

“So you’re staying up until they get back to you?” You didn't mean to sound so perplexed, but you were. Mostly at how unpredictable his hours were. Did he really want to leave the quiet, laid back life at home for whatever this was? He crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke to you in between puffs of his cigarette. 

“Yes, cariño, I'm in my forties, dont got a bedtime.”  The man could barely keep his eyes open, and when he lifted his glass to his lips you felt a little better about ditching him for your fun night out. Of course you wanted to sit with him, have him talk about everything under the sun, like he used to, but you didn’t want to be another thing he had to worry about. 

You barely got to speak to him outside meal times. If he stayed home, safe to say he’d be preoccupied, and if he didn’t it would be just you, and the white noise in his empty apartment, like it had been for the past four nights you had been there. 

The man looked like he needed a cup of tea. You reached for the kettle, pushing it on and leaning against the closed fridge door. “They tell you that at the old people's home?” Grabbing your buzzing phone off the counter you moved towards his surprisingly organised kitchen drawers, in which there was little besides some tea bags, coffee beans, jam, canned fruits and bars of candy. That combined with the eggs, bread and milk in his fridge came to make an almost comical representation of what most people would consider a bachelor's desolate pantry. 

Your eyes shifted to the illuminated screen of your phone, an unread message staring back at you. 

Maria: Leaving in five &lt;3

As you took the bubbling kettle off the burner you made a mental note, reaching for a cup, and a tea bag from the unopened box of earl grey you were pretty certain Javier did not buy for himself, rather became the owner of thanks to one of the nice old ladies who lived opposite him. 

“Somones in a mood today huh?” It was then you realised he had abandoned his work to watch you trudge around his kitchen barefoot in your little party outfit, one hand rested on his chin, one leg crossed over the other as he leant back in his wooden dining table chair. 

The teabag bobbed in the steaming water a couple of times, before you were pulling it out and tossing it in the trash. You grabbed his blue mug by the handle– some generic, machine made ceramic devoid of any personality, something you’d probably find in a show home. It looked like it had always been sitting on his kitchen shelf, only seeing the light of day every once in a while when he ditched his liquor cabinet for the coffee machine on the far end of the counter. Knowing him that wasn’t often.

“I'm kidding .”

“Well cariño I was thinking we could go to the dance bar tomorrow, but now I guess I'll have to stay home and rest my old knees.” He looked so surprised when you placed the mug in front of him, rested on a white paper napkin. It was almost like he had expected you to make it for yourself. The chair made a slight squeak against the floor as you pulled it back and took a seat, pulling his glass, now lined with the slight golden residue of whiskey, towards you. He was still surprised, a little taken back even, but not in offence, rather a tender, grateful smile tugged at his lips. 

“Since when do you dance?” With your focus no longer split between tasks you turned back to the conversation at hand. Making sure to emphasise you remembered just how uncharacteristic Javier’s little suggestion was. 

He took a sip of the earl grey, leaning forward and letting his shoulders fall ever so slightly. The glimmer of a distant memory played in his eyes as he met your gaze.“I don’t. But you do.” Your little reminiscence played in the back of your head like a movie reel, the soft sound of music from the dance bar by your house hanging in the air. As if transported into a distant dream you could see clusters of people twirling and dancing with the beat, like little ghosts behind Javier as he spoke. 

“And who am I going to dance with” When you said those words out loud you meant for them to sound a whole lot more utilitarian than they ended up sounding. Whether it was hope, or some odd suggestion you were in no mood to unpack where from deep in your subconscious that had come. All you could wish for is that he didn’t notice. 

“Plenty of people at the bar who’d love to dance with my darling.” And there it was, that answer you dreaded, delivered with that signature smile, with that warm, twinkling light in his eyes. “You don't have work tomorrow?” unable to bear the thought you moved along to more practical matters. 

He was already halfway through that cup of tea, and like his body was in the middle of some sort of spiritual cleanse you could see him resurface somewhat coherent and with eyes that weren’t half as dead as they were two minutes ago.“‘S friday, need the time off. Besides, I'd kick myself if I didn't make good on your time here. These fuckers still gonna be around when youre gone.” Sometimes you wondered if he was talking more to himself than he was to you. 

You felt a little buzzing in your purse, and you rummaged through it to find your phone. A text from Maria reminding you you needed to leave. “Yeah, you're gonna sit at the bar like a senior citizen while I have some fun?” 

Rising from your seat you searched the room for the last of your things. Notwithstanding the lack of time he had put into making the place home there were still small elements of him scattered throughout that little two bedroom. The fresh flowers in a glass vase on his centre table, framed pictures and art he’d been collecting over the years, small artefacts he’d brought back from his travels. It was so odd, the whole place stood suspended somewhere between home and a place far from it. Familiar yet distant. 

“Hey, they’ve got great drinks.”

He finished the last of his tea, and you picked up his mug and set it in the kitchen sink, running it under the tap water for a quick second to rinse it. Truth be told, you just wanted to sit and chat, and if half heartedly doing the dishes was going to give you a few more minutes with him you’d take it.“Don’t get too excited old man, I'm not driving us home.”

“I can take a few cariño, ‘m not like you.” You travelled to where you’d dropped your heels. 

“Slander.” pausing momentarily in the middle of putting on your shoes you lifted your head to find him looking back at you. His eyes had seemingly followed you all the way behind him, and he was still smiling. Had you not had one hand on his couch holding you in place you just might have tumbled over.  

“You be careful tonight, and don’t walk anywhere alone, especially if it's past ten. I know you– can't even read a damn map, so no wandering around, call me.” It looked like he had already given up on you, one hand rushing to his face to rub his tired eyes, the other plastered to the table. He was shaking his head the way he did when he caught you sneaking out your house one summer. 

“I’ll think about it.” of course you were going to call him, you didn't need an excuse. But you liked to see him all agitated, bossing you around like you knew he liked to do. With everyone, that is.

“No no, you're gonna call me when you get there, and you're gonna call me when you leave, and you're gonna tell me exactly how, and with whom you're gettin back.” You were already at the door, hoping to escape him, but he was yelling your name in that exasperated voice, and you heard him shuffle from his seat to stand up– catch you and drag you back in case that was necessary. 

“But-” Turning to meet his peering form over the wall of his living room you parted your lips, attempting to protest, playfully, but still protest, but he wasn't having any excuses. 

He was doing that thing where he looked at you with his soft eyes, slightly downturned, and the look could convince you to do just about anything, made you feel like you’d rather die than let them down. Anybody else’s nagging would have got you on your last nerve, but you only felt warmth, concern and care when he did it. Hell he could throw you off his roof and you’d still think the same. 

“No buts, no excuses. Thats final” You giggled, half because he sounded so much like a boring old man, and half because he was now leaning against the wall, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his hands on his hips, hair dishevelled from when he’d combed his fingers through it. 

“You sound like him..” With brows raised you looked at him expectantly, taunting him with your teases, and you nearly jumped out the door when he walked towards you, ready to grab you back to him as you escaped. Any insult was better than being compared to your dad, especially in this context. “Don't you say that, cariño” He was laughing, and you were laughing, and his otherwise quiet apartment building was now singing with an uncharacteristic gleam, a glow, a gaiety. 

Your shoes clicked against the floors as you scurried away, turning one last time to see him leaning against his door frame, shaking his head as he watched you skip into the night. “I don't make the rules old man”. You heard him chuckle behind you as you ‘sing songed’ your words, your heart fluttering when you noticed he waited for you to get outside before he closed his front door. 

–

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

“Thought I told you not to wander around alone, cariño.” You jumped, but it was too late, he had wrapped you up in his arms, and you were pressed up against his chest, and his voice was a low whisper in your ear. And you were dizzy. The alcohol in your system only partly responsible for your petrified squeak, wavering voice, and the way you swayed gently in his embrace. But when he kissed the top of your head ever so gently you could only giggle, recognising that warm hold, that faint smell of whisky on his shirt. 

“Psycho, you scared the shit outta me.” He was laughing when you turned around, exhausted, defeated almost, but his eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, and you felt yourself all but swoon at the way he was looking down at you.  “You’re lucky I'm the only psycho you ran into” Grabbing your face in his hands each word he spoke was punctuated with hyperbole, and a teasing disbelief. Your own hands shot up to grab his, and your cold palms thawed at the touch. You were sure you felt your heartbeat in your throat when his thumbs brushed the swell of your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the way they grew hot under his rough hands. “Just came out for a smoke, don’t go into cardiac arrest now” your fallen cigarette crumpled under your foot when you stepped on it, and in the midst of your eye roll you watched as he stepped back to look at you in faux disapproval. 

“Look at ya’, terrible.” He motioned his head towards the trampled butt on the ground below you. “Me? Terrible?” When you closed the distance between the both of you you stepped on it again, hearing it crush under your shoes, and shoved his shoulder playfully, poking his chest with your pointer finger. “Drinking on the job again old man?” Then he laughed again, this time at your playful yet truthful accusation, and the sound made you feel lighter than a feather. How could one person be so charming, so charismatic, at one in the morning? Like he was divulging a trade secret he raised his brow. “Keeps me awake.”

The blaring music in the club was muffled in the distance as you walked towards the steps of the church in front of you, the quiet and empty street echoing your footsteps. He walked beside you, kept you close on that pleasant summer night. When you turned your head your eyes caught a group of men huddled by a small food stall at the side of the street, hunched over some beers, smoking cigarettes. In the crowd there were two familiar faces. Steve was dressed casually, Carillo and the others in military fatigues. You wondered why he wasn’t walking in their direction, but judging by the look on their faces you concluded there would probably be a better time to do so. Besides, you weren't complaining, he was enough, he always was. 

They shot you a half hearted wave, and two strained smiles from across the road. 

Taking a seat you pat the stone ground beside you, watching as he looked around, almost willing someone to come into sight, one foot on the steps leading up to the cathedral entrance, wringing his hands. “What’re you doing here anyway?” You wondered what he had done that evening, but you knew you were better off not asking. You were glad to have bumped into him, and the last thing you wanted to do in your giggly half tipsy mood was have him explain something you were sure would keep you up at night. Not when he had that look on his face, his work look. 

“Waitin’ on an informant, but someone fucked up and well, we’re back at square one.” he was still searching the street when he bent down to sit beside you, so close your knees bumped. 

You felt your heart race a little when he pulled out what looked like a joint he had rolled moments ago from his shirt pocket, when he leaned back on his arm, lit it and looked up at the sky as he took a drag. You wondered if in your little emotional panic, your worry of his disappearance you had blocked out the memory of his striking, handsome face. You wondered if he had always been this beautiful, this captivating, everything he did set you on fire, the way he carried himself. 

“Smoke a lotta weed for a DEA agent.” 

He turned his head towards you, letting it fall lazily in your direction, and his hair fell in his face the way it did all those years ago, and he shot you that smile that felt like home. “Been a long day cariño”. He was looking back to the sky, but your eyes didn't leave him. He looked so tragic in the moonlight, half lit by its platinum glow. You weren’t sure if it was the liquid courage, or the fact that his shoulder looked more inviting than ever, or the fact that a cool breeze just blew by, and you shivered as it brushed your shoulder, but you leaned your head against him, and you felt your tummy erupt with butterflies when he placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. It was forbearing, and merciful, and you wondered if he had somehow noticed your girlish fawning, your silly admiration, and your heart dropped momentarily, but was soon resuscitated by his soft laughter. 

“Remember those cigarettes of mine you'd steal back in the day.” The breeze had picked up, and it’s cool was far more jarring when it kissed your hot cheeks. “‘S’not stealing… you knew.” you closed your eyes, and let yourself get lost in that comfortable memory. “yeah , could've told your papa” He was looking down at you, but you kept your eyes ahead, too intimidated to meet his gaze. 

“Didn’t” 

“Should’ve” His voice was a mumble beside you, and you found yourself thinking about your dad for the first time in a while, and you were instantly reminded the man you were so taken up by was his best friend, and almost twice your age, and saw you as nothing more than his buddy’s daughter. You stiffened against him. 

He took another drag of his joint. “If he was here right now his blood pressure would be through the roof”. A cold breeze tickled your skin, and he rubbed your shoulder gently and despite the murmured chatter in your head you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. 

“Darling, I can't believe you've been out this long.” He was laughing, and his horrible impression had you in a similar state. Conflict bubbled in your chest, each word slipping past his lips reminded you of your relationship, of your dad, and what he would think if he could peek inside your head, at your little thoughts. You felt guilty, but how could you hold that feeling? Not when he was shaking with joy beside you, not when he had his arm around you the way he did, not when you were tucked into his side, shielded from the winds. 

“You smell like a dingy bar” It felt so natural, your regular routine, the way it had always been, when your dad would say something funny, or outrageous, and the both of you would have a field day. It was well incorporated in your repertoire at that point, but the years apart had the memory sitting on a shelf in your brain, collecting dust. You remember when your dad made a terrible joke the day of your senior prom, and the two of you refused to let it go the entire evening. Javier had a vocabulary of his favourite phrases, and so did you, and you couldn’t help but pull them out every once in a while. 

“How am I going to survive you?!” You spoke in tandem, each letter dragged out with faux frustration, an uncanny similarity to your dad’s tone ringing in the air as your blended voices formed a familiar melody. It hung between you as he laughed heartily, and you wanted nothing more than to frame the moment, keep it tucked away where it would be yours, only yours forever. The starry night, a twinkling sky above you, the chirp of the crickets,  and perhaps your most treasured person, holding you against him. 

You wondered why he left, why he left you behind. Did he feel the same as you did in that moment? Was he happy to be there? To have caught you on your night out? After he’d called off his wedding all those years ago he’d become a rarer sight. You were too young to remember, and it wasn’t long after your parents got married. Growing up in your little town you’d heard he always had a reputation with women, but you never believed a word of the neighbourhood chatter. 

They were not the same person– the guy everyone talked about, and your Javier. While you’d never give him a break from the teasing, bringing up all the times you’d run into women in the streets, asking if you’d seen him, you could never really imagine him as the man everyone made him out to be. He was reckless, sure, and impulsive, and insolent, and a hardass, but he was also gentle, and thoughtful, and gallant.

At least he was to you. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, and they were so loud in your head you wouldn’t be surprised if he could, he broke the silence. “I wanted to come back cariño, but-” 

“But you couldn’t, I know '' There was no point going over what had happened and why, and while you incessantly wondered you knew it was a fruitless exercise. It was just how he was, he liked to up and leave, disappear, keep his distance, and you wondered if that had anything to do with you. But you didn't want to kill the moment, more for yourself than for him. 

“Glad you decided to come, cariño” It was like he was trying to convince you, of what exactly you weren't sure, but he sounded so earnest, so true.. and you felt deep down he was trying to make amends for his absence. Not just from you, but from the life he left behind. Were you an exception? Or a way to right his wrongs? mend all that had been pushed aside? You didn't know, but you’d worry about that later.

The winds had picked up, and the sky was gleaming, and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace. 

“I like it here, it's nice.” When you spoke he was almost surprised, but your words seemed to only widen his grin. He squeezed your shoulder gently. 

“Me too baby, me too.” 

— 

Singin' in the old bars

Swingin' with the old stars

Livin' for the fame

Kissin' in the blue dark

Playin' pool and wild darts

Video games

He holds me in his big arms

Drunk and I am seeing stars

This is all I think of

“Looks like they knew you were coming.” You swivelled the bar stool in your direction, hopping up on the seat. It was early in the evening, around seven, but the music was already going, and there were people on the dance floor, moving to the beat of retro spanish tunes. Javier took a seat beside you, still in his suit from work, shirt haphazardly tucked into his dress pants, tie loose around his neck. 

“Why?” the bartender placed your drinks on the counter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that he’d stuck to his whiskey on the rocks. “They got the oldies on”. You were giggling, and while he wanted to pretend like he was far too tired to care about your antics he couldn’t help but crack a smile. There was a charm to it– catching a break at the end of the work week, the tranquillity of the weekend enveloping you like a safety net. One of you that is. 

Friday night was busy at any joint, buzzing with nightlife, food and drink. Somewhere along the way you’d gotten up from your seat and headed to the large empty space in the middle of the bar, where tables and chairs had been cleared to create a somewhat makeshift dance floor. Javier was right, while he sat sipping his whiskey you found plenty of dance partners. 

It was all easy, getting passed from one person to the other as the group formed a large circle. It was like you had disappeared into the crowd, bodies moving left to right in the dim green glow, only occasionally giving you a glimpse of the man sitting at the counter– face rested in his palm. Ask him to dance. These urges of yours were momentary, little private lapses of judgement that would only remind you of what was just not possible. 

When he’d take you out back in the day he’d have some minor injury to blame for his lack of participation on the dance floor, and when he didn’t he was “a terrible dancer” or “had too many drinks”. After a while you stopped asking. You realised you’d never really seen him dance. 

You had grabbed the hand of a stranger, letting them twirl you around– Javier was looking in your direction. For how much fun he liked to have you had come to recognize hardly any of it involved other people. Weddings, birthdays, barbeques. He was there. However, you’d always felt he looked at it as an obligation. A hi to the bride and groom, a bouquet of flowers, some meaningless small talk and he would disappear out the door. When he stayed it was solely in the company of a few familiar suspects– your dad being one. While he was often the subject of conversation, he was a pretty reluctant conversationalist. 

It was hot, and muggy, and if someone asked you where you were in the room you surely couldn’t place yourself. Forcing yourself out of the chatter in your head you looked up, noticing finally that your partner hadn’t changed in the past 10 minutes. 

He was looking down at you quite sweetly, he was actually quite handsome, your age, but he didn’t have a white button up on, didn’t have that sideways smirk. He wasn’t Javier. And unfairly, for that reason alone you didn’t want him. But who were you to say no to pretty green eyes, soft, delicate looking light brown hair, a black button up that wasn’t very buttoned up. Neither of you had the confidence to speak up, so you let him sway you side to side, one hand firmly planted on his chest.

You wondered what he really thought of you, if after this little visit he’d be more compelled to come visit, at least spare you a call. Would he disappear once again? Call your dad once in a while and ask him to deliver some impersonal message like ‘say hi to her for me’? You wished you could care less, but you knew you couldn’t, and something inside you told you he knew too. 

A firm arm wrapped around your waist, spinning you in the opposite direction, faces turned to motion blur as you turned on your heel. “Looks like a saved you, cariño.” He was twirling you, holding your hand in his and pulling you into his chest. He hadn’t really saved you but at the same time he had. He could pick you up from a field of lilies and drop you in a medieval torture chamber and he’d still be your knight in shining armour.  

What the fuck are you doing here? You wanted to ask, but you held back. You wondered what had prompted him on the dance floor. Did he think some weirdo wouldn’t let go of you? Had seeing you dance with someone else accomplished a task years of your coaxing couldn’t? You turned back, but the stranger had already disappeared, and Javier was directing your gaze towards him. 

As you had always suspected he was a great dancer, and he sure as hell liked holding you close as you moved along the dance floor. The songs ran over the decades, and he’d often sing lines to you– smiling and pulling you towards him. He looked so handsome, lights reflecting off his face, his smile tired, but earnest, and wide. You almost couldn’t keep up. 

“Danced your energy away?” Picking up the pace once again you twirled around him, unwilling to give in. “No! Why? your back needa rest?” You watched him laugh– shake his head and grab you by the hips. “Sure you didn't cariño.. Can't keep up with an old man?” Voice raw from yelling over the music, you pulled his leg. “Think I heard your knee pop.” His raised brow only aroused suspicion. “Oh really?” Before you could even respond his arm had hooked under your thighs, and his hand was on your back and you were being lifted into the air. “Oh my god!” Your own arms flung around his neck, both your laughs floating between you as he spun around. 

It felt different and not because something in his head had dragged him out onto the dance floor. The way he was looking at you, the way he just couldn’t let go. It hurt your heart more than anything you’d ever experienced. The pain was conflicting– the love ache and the hurt. Did he know how much he meant to you? Did he even care? Something in your heart told you he did but you chalked it up to innocent hope. 

The music slowed down, and you heard emerging from the stereo a familiar tune. 

You’d hum it all the time, so much so it would drive your father nuts. In the kitchen, while doing chores, sometimes as you read by Javier’s side. On the weekend when you woke up early to help cook breakfast it’d be the first song on the playlist. You recall how he’d watch you dance around the kitchen, truth be told rather ungracefully in the mornings– spatula in one hand, kitchen towel in the other.They played it at some wedding once, and your friends had bounded to the dance floor with you just to ensure you didn’t miss a note. You were running so fast you all but collided with him, and he had to catch your falling form as you stumbled towards your best friend, shouting a quick “sorry” as you bounded in her direction.  

He remembered. 

Words were useless when you looked at him the way you did. An expression of surprise, confusion, realisation, all at once, a smile tugging your lips, your doe eyes gazing into his soft brown ones. And his arms were around you, and you were pressed against his warm chest, and you were gently swaying to the beat of the music. 

“Looks like they knew you were coming.” 

It felt like a blip in time, but it would’ve been hours. People came and left, all around you groups of twos and threes and tens, but you stayed, and he stayed. Smiling down at you, holding you tight. You were a little light headed from it all, feet fighting the urge to take a little break. You just couldn’t let go. 

Plopping down on the bar stool you let your cheek hit the cool marble of the counter. Your legs felt like wet noodles, trembling when you finally sat down. You weren't really sure where Javier went, but it felt like an eternity he let you lay there with your eyes closed. Every second was one hundred times longer when he wasn’t holding you. His arm was firm around your waist when he finally helped you out of your seat. You realised he’d been standing only about two metres away the entire time. 

“Let’s get you home, ‘s late.” He had picked your shoes up from where you’d abandoned them, his own blazer draped over his arm– the one you weren’t hanging on to. With closed eyes you let him lead you out into the night, all your weight firmly supported by his broad shoulders, your stumbling feet only stabilised when he tucked you into his side. 

Unintelligible to anyone but him, and muffled by your yawn and cheek pressed against his upper arm you slurred your words as you spoke. “Past your bedtime?” 

He chuckled to himself, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a faint murmur– the last thing you really remember hearing.  “Yes cariño, past my bedtime…” 

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You been drinkin’ my whiskey….” He was leaning on the table, waving the glass you left out in the air, holding it between two of his fingers. He wasn’t upset, rather looked quite amused. You rubbed your eyes, making out his smile from a distance.  “Couldn't sleep.” Peering into the room you were staying in you were sure he saw your blankets bunched up on the bed where you had been tossing and turning for hours. Your eyes caught the clock on the wall. 

1am. 

It had been a long day. Being assigned to a new supervisor proved to be a real curse. He was quite a piece of work. Patronising, condescending, everything in between. If that wasn’t enough he rejected your proposal, and asked you to submit a new one in two days. God knows you had a lot on your mind. 

The kitchen cabinet swished when he opened it, bringing you back to the present. “God, you really are like me huh?” He still had his jacket on, but judging by the look on his face he needed a drink first. The couch dipped as you threw yourself on it, and you turned over its back rest to watch him move around the kitchen. 

“I had like one shots worth, with like a whole glass of water, so not like you.” Curled up under his plush throw blanket you sank into the cushions, eyes following him as he sat down beside you. With a deep sigh he leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index. “Fuckin’ hell” 

“Long day?” He picked up the joint he’d just rolled from the side table, groping for the handle of the drawer to grab a lighter. “Can say that..” It was just another night for him. You were lucky you heard him pull up outside, and had got yourself to look somewhat presentable so you could see him at least once that day. Granted that involved nothing but putting on a bralette. 

Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or that you had such a shitty day, or that you just couldn’t help yourself anymore, but you leaned against his chest, snuggling into his side as he took a drag. “I would try and talk you out of this job, but I think I've exhausted all my arguments..” You twiddled your fingers, just wanting to melt into him and disappear. 

“I don’t think there’s anything else I could do.” You shivered, his fingers tracing shapes on your upper arm. “Couldn’t do whatever it is you’ve been doing…” redirecting your gaze from your lap you looked up at him. “Sometimes it feels like I can’t either” He was looking ahead, voice low and rumbly, and just what you needed to hear. 

“You’ve got time, got one’ve my lifetimes ahead’ve you” He pulled you closer, head resting against yours. “Don't say that” You poked his side lightly, hearing him chuckle beside your ear. “Oh yeah, now those jokes gettin’ to you?!” 

Stewing in a comfortable silence you let yourself ease into his embrace, willing your mind to shut up for the time being and enjoy his company. The way he was holding you– so much more delicately than he ever had before had your heart clenching. “Tell me your day was better than mine.”

His words cut through the chilled air, and your heart soared at the thought that it even mattered to him. “No, sucked.” to anyone else you would have responded with a simple ‘it was good’, some white lie to avoid further questions, but you couldn’t lie to him, he’d figure it out one way or another. “My supervisor’s an asshole..”

Nothing was more comforting than the kiss he placed to the side of your head.“‘m sorry honey” He offered you his joint– seemingly having deserted his agenda of being a good influence in favour of apparently celebrating your mutual disappointment. You felt your cheeks heat. 

“I've never smoked before.” 

Gasping comically he whipped his head towards you. He tapped your nose with his index, pinching your cheek and giving you possibly the most suspicious look he could muster. At least he tried, because his smile peaked through the interrogative exterior. “You little liar.” The gesture had you jumping to defend yourself. Shifting to meet his drooping eyes you almost knocked him over as you plopped on the couch, letting him wrap his free arm around your waist to steady you. “No, promise!” You leaned your forehead against his, your eyes gazing into his in an attempt to convince him. Despite his disbelief you were indeed telling the truth. 

“Oh really? Been drinkin’ too, trouble.” his hand snaked up the nape of your neck, cupping your jaw. It was then you realised just how close you were to him. Your eyes flickered to his lips momentarily. When you realised he had beat you to the task you were convinced you were hallucinating, or had somehow gotten high off the second hand smoke. In pain, you were in utter pain, unveiled and unprotected– subjected to his piercing gaze. 

Painfully aware of the tension that had settled like a thick cloud over you, your voice came out small and strained, but also hopeful. “‘M not trouble….could be though” 

The tightness in his jaw was something you couldn’t ignore. “Yeah, I know” In a moment of bad judgement, or in hindsight good judgement you decided you knew what you needed to do. You were exhausted of having to wonder. You were exhausted of asking questions, exhausted of his absence. You slung your leg over his thighs, lifting yourself onto his lap Leaning against his firm chest you peered up at him through your lashes. 

“Baby, careful”  You knew this time those words were not for you, you knew he was fighting the urge to gather you in his arms. You could see that look in his dark eyes– hungry, and hot. You could feel him, hard against your cotton panties. He bent down to press his forehead against yours, your noses bumping. “Cariño, you don't know what you're doing.”  His actions were in direct contradiction to his words, his large hands cradling your soft cheek, pleading you to put him out of his misery. But you were selfish, like he had been all those years ago, and you needed him to put you out of yours. 

“You don’t want this, Cariño” He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. He was doing that thing again, where he was talking more to himself than to you. But couldn’t let him decide what you wanted, because for years you’d let him convince himself you’d wanted to keep your distance to maintain his own conscience– to make him feel better about how he’d disappeared from your life. 

“I know what I want..”  You didn’t mean to, but you were pouting, and despite your best efforts to speak with conviction you couldn’t help but come off a little pleading, “show me, please.” surely he knew you weren’t just talking about the weed. 

His lips ghosted over yours, and you could just about burst into tears the way he was looking at you. He probably noticed the way your chin wobbled, the way your doe eyes blinked away from his. Because in a moment you heard him sigh heavily, painfully, and apologetically all at once. 

And he was kissing you. Soft and slow, and gentle, and benevolent and like everything you’d ever hoped for. He tasted how you’d always imagined– like whiskey and cigarettes and everything in between. Like home. His thumb stroked your cheek gently until you pulled away, glossy eyed and wobbly on his lap. 

“Want me to show you what?” And here you thought his eyes couldn’t get any darker. He mumbled into your lips, voice commanding and steady– everything you weren't. He grabbed the back of your neck and guided you back towards him. Threading your fingers through his hair you let yourself get lost in the shelter of his hold. You felt as though he could pretty much eat you alive, the way his lips were moving against yours– suddenly hot and soft and needy. 

Heart racing you chased his lips with your own, but he steadied you with his hands, amused at your zeal. “Gotten all worked up now have we?” You couldn’t help it, you tried, tried to sit steady in his lap, but you just couldn’t, not when you felt his cock, twitch against your clothed pussy. 

You rolled your hips against his, watched as his head fell back against the couch. The crease between his brows only persuaded you to continue. “Shit baby, tryna kill me?” barely audible, his rasp had you bracing yourself with your hands planted firmly on his chest. You dragged your hips again, leaning down and tugging the fabric of his shirt. He reached for the joint he’d abandoned on the side table, bringing it to your lips. 

He observed you greedily. “That's it, good girl.” His voice had never sounded more strained than it did in that moment, watching you take a drag, eyes glossing over. The praise had your heart fluttering, you’d do just about anything to hear it again. Smoking wasn’t helping either of your causes, because it only made you press your pussy harder against his clothed crotch. This time his hips rose slightly to meet you, and he cursed lowly under his breath. Already unable to maintain control. 

Taking another drag he leaned back, letting you rub yourself against him, eyes screwing shut every once in a while, just like your own. He’d bring the joint to your waiting mouth every now and then, revelling in the sight of you getting more and more desperate with each puff. 

“dirty little girl..” you whimpered at his words. “rubbin’ that drippy lil pussy all over my lap.” You looked down, only to find a dark spot on his grey jeans, for where you pressed yourself against him. Incapable of stopping your movements you continued, relishing how the friction eased the throbbing between your legs. “Yeah? few drags got you all achy cariño, got you squirmin’?” 

He was watching you, and you could make out his intense gaze through your fluttering lashes, his eyes scanning you up and down, then fixing on your face of strained pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels, Cariño” His palms smoothed up and down your thighs, harsh and slow, and exercising all the self control he could muster. It was difficult to answer, a response bubbling in your throat before you were incoherently blurting it out. 

"Feels so good..” whining, you grabbed the fabric of his shirt in your fists, bouncing on his lap lightly to feel just anything against you, you wanted more, lust and intoxication clouding your judgement. “Please, need it, need it so bad” Losing all sense of restraint one of his hands reached for your hips, squeezing and gripping firmly. 

He dragged your already rolling hips against him, sliding you against his clothed crotch to the point you couldn’t help but let your legs fall limp, your forehead press against his shoulder. “Need what?” You could feel the tick in his jaw where it was pressed up against your cheek. 

His hand slipped between your bodies, moving your soaked panties aside to feel your wetness. You shuddered when you felt him against you, grinding down on his hand. “Fuck, look at that. So fuckin’ wet for me babygirl.” 

“Need you inside me, please.” Nosing his neck you pressed a kiss there, mouth falling agape as he rubbed your clit, fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing into you.  “Like this?” If your laboured breaths were any indication you couldn’t take it much longer. 

You wiggled your hips, trying to bear down on his digits, but he pulled away only to squeeze the inside of your thigh. ““Gettin’ to you already? use your words baby” he was taunting you, your little ‘no’s making him smirk against your shoulder as he went back to sliding his fingers along the cut of your pussy. “What do ya’ want me to do to you? Tell me babygirl.” You knew the sweet talk was only meant to encourage you, and while it worked you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned when you replied. 

“Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me.. please … need it” 

Now that he listened to, fingers pulling away and tapping at your lips. When you gazed down at them you could see how wet you really were– having drenched them in the little while he’d had his hand in your panties. Obeying you parted them, letting him slide them into your waiting mouth, sucking gently, the taste of yourself heady on your tongue. “Good girl.” Even though he looked quite composed on the outside you still noticed the way he swallowed thickly when your tongue ran along his digits. 

“Want me to fuck the cute lil pussy?” you shook your head vehemently, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “That's my pretty baby.” he kissed you like he wanted to devour you, frantic, and urged, voice so rough it came out almost like a growl. His hands roughly grabbed your hips, flipping you to lay back against his couch. In a moment your sleep top and bralette had been discarded, in a pile on the floor alongside your shorts and his own clothes. 

Slotting himself between your legs you looked down to where his fingers were tracing the inside of your thigh. You gazed up at him, upper body lit by the dim orange light of the side table, broad shoulders slumped as he admired the sight of you– on your back, in nothing but your panties, all for him. As he slowly pulled them down your legs, he sure seemed to relish the way the fabric of your cotton panties clung messily to your wet pussy.  

“Poor thing, just need someone to take care of you don’t you?” It was less of a question and more of a declaration, and undoubtedly it made you feel open and weak. How could you not feel that way? There you were laid out in front of him, every part of you exposed, his toned torso being the only part of him you could really see thanks to the half lit room. It felt like if he looked just a little closer he’d be able to see right through your naked body– and into your scrambled thoughts. 

His index teased your dripping hole, briefly dipping into you and coming back to rub soft circles on your clit. Gasping, your fingers flew to grip his wrist when you felt him slide his cock against your cunt, tip teasing your sensitive nub ever so slightly. “Relax babygirl, be good for me.” Bringing your hand to his lips he peppered your knuckles with kisses, willing you to ease into the cushions as he draped himself over your body. He grasped your face in his palm, kissing his reassurance against your forehead as you felt him line himself up with your leaking entrance. 

You mewled at the stretch of him, at how hot you felt against him as he eased himself into your soft pussy. “Shit- so fucking tight-” his stopped for a second, like he was willing himself not to split you open with one quick snap of his hips. “can barely fit my cock in this lil pussy.” Leaning in your lips searched for his. He let you melt into him, fingers brushing against your side as if to calm you down. 

It was so much– his weight on top of you, his hips slotted between your thighs, forehead pressed against yours. You could feel every pulse, every throb, every ridge of him inside you, nudging those spots you could never reach yourself– and he wasn’t even moving yet. 

When he did start moving you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past your lips. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his biceps, pulling him closer. You needed him, pressed up against your rising chest, holding you. “I know cariño, I know.” His right hand squeezed your waist, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Yeah feelin’ all full?” 

His voice was so sweet, like honey, warm and sultry in your ear. You nodded a quiet ‘yes’. He cradled your face in his palm, nose nudging yours gently. Mumbling his own rhetorical “yeah?” he kissed the underside of your jaw. For the first time he felt as close as he physically was, big and thick inside you. 

You were drowning in his arms, enveloped by them, cocooned in a bubble of heat, and low breathy sighs, and his lips ghosting over yours as he thrust into you– hard, but slow, and deep.  “That’s it, just like that–” he picked up his pace ever so slightly. “Such a good girl.” His words were gruff, and stuttery and his breath tickled your ear whenever he spoke. 

Feeling the drag of his thick cock against your pulsing walls your eyes struggled to focus on him above you. He on the other hand seemed to have no trouble fixing his gaze on your trembling form. “Makin’ me feel so–” he brought his thumb to brush the swell of your cheek, “fucking good, baby”. Your head buzzed at his praise, burning face turning to rest in his palm. 

With your back lifting off the soft cushion you reached to pull him impossibly closer, wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts. “More, please, please.. Want it” you couldn’t recognise your voice, not when you were begging him, watching his eyes twinkle. “Yeah? Need me to fuck this pretty pussy harder?” you nodded– feeling embarrassed enough at his smirk of surprise to hide your face in his neck, but not enough to stop begging. Another soft “please” barely falling from your mouth.  

Rising slightly he grabbed your hips, holding your thigh against his side. Your tilted hips granted him a whole new angle, and before you knew it you were throwing your head back, letting it fall against the upholstery. “You want that, don't you baby? Need me to stuff you full of my cum?” You could only respond with your sounds of pleasure. 

He pushed you against the cushions, hovering above you to drive himself deeper, watching you turn into a moaning incoherent mess– your whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls and only exhilarating his pleasure. “That's right cariño, I gotcha’” one hand squeezed the flesh of your hip, then travelled up to brush against the exposed column of your throat– fingers tracing your skin before he was leaning down and placing sloppy kisses against you. 

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy till she’s dripping with my cum.”

He must have noticed that dumb, hazy look in your eyes when propped himself back up, still fucking you till your hips pressed into the sofa’s cushions. “Fuck, nothin in that head of yours huh?” You made out his smirk of pride as you jostled around, trying your best to keep your eyes on him as he moved above you. 

It was far easier said than done. Not when you could feel his cock against your throbbing walls, could hear his scruff groans whenever he felt you clench around him, not when he was looking down at you with his furrowed brows, and sweat gemming his hair– which’s curls had been ruffled out of place from when you’d ran your fingers through them. 

Especially not when he shifted ever so slightly, and you felt his tip brush that sensitive spot inside you you didn't even know you had. Javier cursed above you, feeling you squeeze his cock. “that the spot huh babygirl?” he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, face scrunching in pleasure as he hit it over and over and over again. 

Your head lulled from side to side, your body in overdrive and completely overwhelmed at the sensations. That was until he was cupping your cheek in his palm, tilting your face in his direction. “Use your words for me.”. But you couldn’t, parted lips struggling to form anything coherent besides soft, little whines. 

His hips snapped in a deep, slow thrust. “Say it..” Your eyes were barely open, and you reached and tried to grab him closer, but he stayed above you, unwilling to budge as he slowed to a complete stop– waiting for you to voice your needs. “Yes-”

He mumbled against your lips, nipping, and kissing. “Good girl, my good girl.” To that you nodded, back arching as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.  Every part of you singing at his touch– how he kneaded and squeezed your hot flesh. 

The coil in your belly only tightened and tightened, and you suddenly felt too vulnerable, too exposed to meet his hooded eyes. Turning your face to the side you let the plush throw blanket hide your hot cheeks, burying your face in it. “Look at me, wanna see your pretty face.” It was an instruction. One he expected you to follow like all the others. 

You didn’t think he’d notice that hitch in your breath, the way you did the opposite and smashed your face against the soft fabric. It was all too much, and he was fucking into your soaking pussy, and his hands were roaming your body, and you could feel his skin brush yours, and you were dizzy, and overwhelmed and you could scream and–

And he was slowing down again, just enough to where he kept you on that edge, to where you could savour every bit of him inside you. – “Cariño, look at me..” God he sounded so tender, coaxing you out of your daze just enough to the point you shook your head ‘no’, whimpering and turning only further away from him. 

He kissed your cheek, cooing at your overwhelm. Not to mock you, rather he sounded quite endeared, prideful even. “Baby” Nudging his nose with yours you felt his thumb rub soothing circles against the apex of your cheekbone, urging you in his direction ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, only to find him smiling down at you. 

“There’s my girl.” 

“Need you to look at me when ‘m fuckin’ you.” He held your face in place as his hips met yours, slow and languid. No part of you was left untouched, his kisses adorning every inch of your exposed skin, lips coming to press against yours every now and then. It was like he could see through your nakedness, and the thought terrified you to no end, made you feel small and defenceless, and had your sensitive cunt squeezing his cock.  

“You close honey?” When you nodded your nose bumped his, and he laughed before he was kissing you gently. He brushed the sweat from your brow, voice so mellow yet in control. “Cum for me baby-” You felt him deep inside you. So so so close. ”Wanna feel you cum all over my cock” 

It rolled over you, slow and intense and deep, in waves. He held you close, cooing at your trembling frame, holding you against him. “'M here cariño, I gotcha, just like that.” Groaning, he watched your eyes struggle to remain open, rolling back into your head as he fucked your throbbing cunt. “That's my pretty girl.” 

His own hips stuttered, thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. Still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm you felt him fucking into your warm, pulsing pussy. You felt his cock twitch inside you before he was filling you up with his cum, a strained curse slipping past his lips. 

Ears ringing you registered him catching his breath above you, but it was all too hazy for you to make out. All you really knew is that he hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t abandoned you on the couch to smoke a cigarette or pour himself a drink, instead he was peppering your face with little kisses. “ ‘m so proud’a you cariño– did so well for me.” 

Pulling out he slid his hand under your back, flipping you over so you were snuggled into his chest. The cold air from the open window could barely touch your skin before Javier was throwing the blanket over you– keeping you warm, close. 

You were still in your daze, but even as you lay on top of him, drifting in and out of a deep slumber you couldn’t shake the worry that when you opened your eyes he would be gone. 

That he would have traded you in for the comfort of his bed, or worse would have disappeared into obscurity once again. The thought only stung more as you felt his cum leak out of you, mixing with your own to drip down your thighs obscenely. 

You never really knew if he regretted it, if he wanted you for sure, if he liked having the weight of your body against him. Flinging your arms around his neck you tugged him impossibly closer, burying your face in his neck. A silent plea to stay where he was. You didn’t care if you seemed needy, or clingy or pathetic. 

It was like he knew somehow, like your thoughts floated to him after you’d thought them. And as always there was no explaining to do, no questions to answer, nothing to say. His embrace was safe, and secure, and unwavering. “close those eyes for me cariño mìo” He planted a soft kiss to your nose, his arms tightening around you, palms rubbing soothing circles on your back. “‘m right here babygirl, not goin’ anywhere….”

You did. And he didn’t. 

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

Now you do

Now you do

Now you do

Now, now you do

Now you do

Now you do

I would also like to add that we are engaging with this concept solely in the realm and interest of fiction. This type of situation is a huge red flag. While the reader is seemingly consenting and enthusiastic there is a huge power imbalance between her and Javier. He has also known her her whole life and has been a significant part of her childhood. Engaging sexually or romantically in a relationship like that is creepy gr*omer behaviour. I used their past as a narrative device because this isn’t real, but please be aware of your media consumption, and that dynamics between characters in fic are vastly different from what is healthy, and ethical in real life. 🫶🐝💗

I really hoped you lovelies enjoyed it!! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it! Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗🐝✨

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER III: TRYING NOT TO FEEL IT

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [9.6K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, slight mention of anxiety, pining and two idiots flirting not so subtly <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You and Seth's paths are intersecting deeper than any of you anticipated. With a new storyline set to begin, it leaves you both filled with a yearning to know if it only ever will be platonic, even if biting the forbidden fruit is only just mindless dreaming.

Another week came with another Monday, and this time for you it meant not just being on screen, but finally getting the chance to work behind the scenes with one of your storylines being rolled out on Raw.

You were mentally ecstatic, finally getting a chance to be in your own element behind the camera, but your body told an entirely different story.

Exhaustion infested your bones, and the last thing on your mind was getting to TV, because all you wanted to do was sleep the day away. Your body was facing the consequences of the constant travel combined with jet lag that you were positive you’d never get used to.

Getting directly off a red eye only made matters worse, muscles aching with heaviness and longing desperately for your bed to make it all go away. The drive to the hotel offered limited solace, especially with the hustle and bustle of the city—road rage and honking keeping you up through the morning traffic jam during the stretch of time where you wanted to cram in more sleep.

Instead, you found yourself staring mindlessly out the window, taking in New York city through the tinted pane, zoning off into secret gardens in your mind, escaping into your thoughts, trying to get away from the chaos pulling you back.

And then, suddenly, everything shifted. The noise of the city seeming to fading into silence as a familiar name cut through the stereo’s hum.

“Welcome to the morning show. We’re joined by none other than the man and my personal favorite wrestler, Seth Rollins. How you doing, man?”

You perked up in your seat, a small smile becoming evident across your sleepy features, when his voice finally hit your ears.

“I’m doing great, looking forward to sight seeing the big apple after this. Thanks for having me.”

His voice sounded a little hoarse, fatigued from matches, the grueling travel schedule, and on top of that, having to do media in the early hours—nevertheless, it seemed as though he was championing it a lot better than you were. Clearly he was a veteran of the fast life already and you desperately needed to play catch up.

For the rest of the drive, you found yourself not only wide awake, but clinging to his voice as if he was the stimulant keeping you up. His laughter and quick wit filling the car, making you giggle despite his physical absence, that felt as if he was right there next to you all along.

You laid back, listening intently to the rest of the radio show. Eyes half closed as Seth talked about his run with Dean and Roman, his favorite matches he’s had, and some of the memorable cities he’s visited. He had so many stories to tell, and you surely wanted to pick his brain apart just so you could hear all of them and get to know him a little better.

“One last question before we let you go: Triple H’s daughter…” the radio host started curiously.

Seth hummed pleasantly, and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“What a debut am I right?” He spoke with a mixture of pride and affection.

Your stomach twisted into knots, teeth digging softly into your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a smile that you didn’t even realize was creeping upon you so feverishly.

“The pop she got was insane! What do you think about her so far?” The interviewer pressed for more, and suddenly you felt yourself becoming interested as you waited for Seth’s response.

“I mean other than being extremely impressed, I think the company is going to be in good hands when Triple H feels ready to pass the torch onto her.” Seth’s voice softening with sincerity as he went on.

“She’s a hard worker, and she’s hilarious, and she’s completely selfless.” Seth said, honestly.

“Any chance we can see you two working together?” The interviewer prodded, a teasing tone in his voice.

Seth laughed lightly. “Oh man, I don’t know what the future holds, but if there ever comes an opportunity, I would love to work with her.” He admitted, making you feel giddy all over as you hung your head and tried to fight the smile.

“You heard it here first, ladies and gents…”

His voice was like a looped track echoing over and over again in your mind—the cadence of every answer memorized like the melody to your favorite song.

And even then, when hours passed, you couldn’t help but still feel warm all over just thinking about all the generous things he had to say about you. It was one of the qualities you admired about him the most despite the short measure of time you knew him for. All of things he said to your face, was the same things he said when you weren’t around—a kind of authenticity that was rare to come across.

Music blared through your phone speakers, resounding off the bathroom walls where you found yourself conflicted as to why you still couldn’t shake Seth’s kind words even after the time had passed. Everyone else had met you with the same kindness that he showed you, but not in the way that left you reeling the way Seth did.

But before you could ponder it any longer and get too in your head than you already were, a knock echoed against your hotel door, prompting you to pull back from the bathroom mirror and hit pause on your phone’s music, strolling over and taking a peak through the peephole to see who it was.

You grinned, unlocking the door and opening it wide to reveal your dad on the other side, already dressed in his suit ready to head out to the arena.

“Hey honey,” He embraced you in a hug before you stepped aside, letting him step into your room, “What time did you get in?”

“A little after nine,” you replied, retreating back to the bathroom to finish up your makeup and you continued to talk, “I checked in and decided to nap. I nearly slept through my alarm, but I’m all rested now.”

Originally, you both had planned to travel together, as you often did when arriving in new cities. But your dad had to cut his weekend short, heading out the morning after your sister’s birthday to join the crew because they were short a producer for the local house show. Knowing your dad, you had mentally begun preparing for more solo trips, seeing as though he was always prone to travel changes now that he was the big boss in charge.

“I forgot to ask, how was dinner last Friday?” He leaned against the doorframe, changing the subject after realizing over the weekend you hadn’t talked about work at all.

You barked out a laugh, trying not to poke your eye out while you combed the mascara through your lashes.

“The food was delicious, and everyone was great. They’re all really nice and welcoming—I even told them about the whole ‘suck it!’ car gate situation.”

Your dad smiled upon hearing you talk about the night so up beat, relieved that you were making friends with everyone since you were going to start seeing them more often than not.

He knew that being on the road meant the constant change of scenery, which in some ways were great for your writing process, but it also brought a certain kind of loneliness with not having any established friends around to keep you company—but thankfully that was all starting to change.

“That’s nice. I’m glad you’re feeling a bit settled.” He chuckled with satisfaction, happy that you weren’t miserable on the road after all the convincing he had to do to get you on board.

“Nepotism apparently makes great conversation starters.” You quipped finished up your mascara.

Sure, you loved being in the comfort of your hometown where you grew up and where all of your family and friends were just a drive away when you needed to see them most. And it certainly wasn’t easy coming to terms that your new job meant a lack of permanence but you knew you could adjust with the more time that went on, and you were positive that you could balance your home and the town you were a guest in.

“I actually wanted to talk about your final storyline,” He paused for a moment, catching your eyes in the mirror’s reflection as you stared anxiously.

“I read through it and man…it’s good.”

Your dad smiled proudly, prompting you to squeal mainly out of relief and clapped your hands frantically. He didn’t know why you were so nervous when he was constantly in awe of everything you created, even since you were a child with a rapid imagination that he couldn’t even keep up with.

“I honestly thought you’d hate it because it’s so work.” You whispered, reaching for your powder compact and a brush, beginning to swirl the bristles into the product and tapping the excess off.

“Does it require me to do a little more work? Yeah.” He laughed, as you half rolled your eyes, gliding the brush across your face as he went on.

“But I think if we do some chemistry reads with the superstars we can find the right fit. And if not, then we’ll put a pin in it. It’s still a good script. We just need the right people to play it out.”

You were pleased with his feedback, and if anyone knew creative direction as well as you did, it was your father. You trusted him enough with your ideas, and he respected them all to want to ensure they were brought to life as vividly as they could be.

You both were like the perfect little dream team, and you couldn’t have been happier to have the best boss and father in one person.

“Look at you using my director lingo.” You mocked with a smirk, tipping the brush at him while he rolled his eyes.

“Hurry up and a pin in this,” He retorted, gesturing to the messy bathroom counter, “We’ll drive down to the arena together.”

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you in the lobby?” You replied, getting up close in the mirror to see if you needed any last touch ups.

“Preferably in the next ten minutes.” He scoffed, shooting you a knowing look as he pressed off the door frame.

“Shoo!” You waved him off with a grunt, and he snickered his way out the door, leaving you to it.

Arriving at the arena a few hours early was far better than the early morning drive that consisted of bumper to bumper traffic, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss Seth’s voice over the radio to listen to throughout the way.

You guessed it was just you being a little self absorbed, loving the way he spoke about you, but you decided to steer clear of thinking too much of it because no way did it mean anything deeper than him just being a kind person.

As you and your dad pulled up to the arena, you both rolled down the windows of the car, waving hello and smiling for pictures with fans who waited outside the parking garage gates. Heading inside, you and your dad went separate ways, you dropping your stuff off into your office and heading to set where you were going to be working behind the camera.

The camera crew and sound engineers were already getting set up in a quiet hallway, where the lights were purposely dimmed for dramatic effect. You took it upon yourself to say hello and catch up with everyone as you got mic’d up and helped frame the shot for the pre-recorded promo that would air later in the show.

Soon after, you felt a tap on your shoulder, and there towered over you the one and only Braun Strowman.

“Hey! You excited?” You said eagerly, removing the headsets from over your ears and letting them rest around your neck.

“You know I am.” He rubbed his hands together before giving you a small side hug.

Braun was still fairly new to the main roster with no big storyline or arch that truly set him apart from everyone else except his stature and strength. But ever since you had been tuning into the show for your storyline research, you knew wanted to develop him into a more prominent character and you were glad your dad approved of what you thought up for him.

“Did you want to change anything about the promo?” You asked, grabbing your binder to pull up his script.

He flipped through his copy, looking at you skeptically with a shrug as he pointed to a specific section.

“I’m sorta confused about how I should play this part.” He confessed, hoping you wouldn’t take his critique the wrong way.

You nodded, flipping to the same page as him and reading it to yourself to refresh your memory of what you had planned. You reassured him with another nod, retrieving a red ballpoint pen for edits as you waved him over to a nereby cart where you two could go over what he wanted to change.

“Do you want to go through it and then we can feel out what you want to change?” You suggested, already beginning to make notes in the margins of the script.

“You sure?” He rose his brow, expecting you to tell him to do what he was asked, instead of trying to wiggle his way into the writer’s room.

“Of course!” You nodded, and he began to get into the parts he required more clarity on and the suggestions he had for his character.

You two spent a total of fifteen minutes, revising and going over the script, and much to his surprise, and the entire crew who were listening in, you took every single suggestion with stride and trusted Braun completely to do what he felt resonated with his character and the overall promo. All the edits and suggestions he made were approved, and you were happy he felt comfortable enough to come and tell you why he felt it was right to do so.

You watched closely on the monitors as Braun stood in front of the camera, situatating himself on his mark, before you peered past the lens and counted him down.

“Okay, we’re rolling in 3…2…” your voice died out, giving him the thumbs up and he began his promo.

Seth watched from the opposite end of the hallway, not paying too much attention to the words leaving Braun’s mouth, but more so the sight of you looking as if you were in your natural habitat. You silently helped the camera man pan in different directions as you followed Braun’s movement and gave him cues to speak louder or pause.

Usually in pre-taped segments or promos there were a lot of stopping and reshooting, most times because the producers wanted it absolutely perfect. However with you the process seemed a lot more laid back. A less stressful environment that they were used to back when Vince was around constantly picking apart everything to the point where everyone felt like they didn’t have any say whatsoever.

“And cut!” You announced out, clapping your hands as Braun relaxed up and came back around the camera to see what you thought.

Seth watched as you two exchanged a few words and nods, happy with the product that it didn’t need another take, so the crew began to clear out. You embraced in a quick hug, patting his back, before you spun around to get your mic and ear piece removed.

Seth then made his way to you, brushing past Braun in the process and giving each other a handshake before the giant went down another turn in the hallway.

“Hey, hey Ms. Director.” He chirped happily, getting your attention.

A smile immediately crossed your features, looking over your shoulder while your fingers fidgeted behind your back removing your mic and handing it off to a stagehand.

“Hey you,” you grinned, arms crossing over your chest, glad that he was stopping by to say hello.

“How was the sightseeing?” You eyed the wristband wrapped around his joint, the same one you recognized from the other superstars you ran into who had the pleasure of sightseeing the Statue Of Liberty after media this morning.

Seth rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, frowning somewhat, “Gotta be honest with you, it was pretty anticlimactic.” He confessed, causing you to laugh lightly with a scorn.

“You didn’t happen to get one of those ‘I Heart New York’ shirts did you?” You joked, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“They did try to sell me one.” He retorted with a point of his finger.

In some odd way, the familiar knots that formed in your stomach when you listened to his voice over the radio were back again, only this time they kept you grounded, beaming warmly at him as warmth flushed over your skin. You knew it was nothing other than pure appreciation, guessing that if it was anyone else who said the things he did about you, you would be feeling the exact same emotions.

“Thanks for putting me over this morning.” You finally broke the momentary silence, politely reaching out to rest a cordial hand over his arm before dropping it back to your sides swiftly.

He thought for a moment, lifting his brows unknowingly not knowing what you were talking about before realization crossed his face. “You heard that?”

You giggled, nodding as you tucked your cheek into your shoulder. “It helps when you have a driver who only ever listens to the local radio.”

“Well, I meant what I said.” He said sweetly, watching you nod, before looking down the hall.

“Your dad wants to see me in his office. It’s about some chemistry read?” He supposed curiously, wondering if you knew what it was about.

You tilted your head, surprised for a quick second that your dad thought of him for the male lead, but you understood why—especially when he possessed the talent for it.

“It’s my final assignment storyline.” You revealed, wringing your hands together nervously, hoping he would like the script when he read over it himself.

“Really?” He was stunned, thrilled to read what you had after learning about it last week. “ I guess I really gotta nail it.” He cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck comically.

“I’ll see you, Seth.” You waved.

“See you,” He nodded, heading in the opposite direction.

You thanked the crew who were still hanging around, before setting off to your office to relax and answer some emails prior to the show starting. To your surprise, when you got there Xavier and his buddies Big E and Kofi were lingering around and immediately perked up when they saw you coming around the corner.

“Ah, Ms. Levesque! I’ve been searching for you,” Xavier stood, holding his arms out excitedly as he did a curtsy.

“What can I do for you Mr. Woods?” You said in your best English accent, bowing slightly making them laugh.

“So I don’t know if you know, but I run a YouTube channel called UpUpDownDown.” He explained, and you nodded enthusiastically, pointing to him.

“Yeah! You had my mom and dad on there, right?” You laughed to yourself, remembering the time you stumbled upon the videos and proceeded to tease them about how not so tech savvy they were these days.

“Oh, man, you really did do your research.” He complimented, happy that you had a jist of what he did outside of the ring.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming on the show? I think the fans would really love it, plus I’m always looking for new people to game with.” He shimmied his shoulders, hoping you would be down for the opportunity.

You grinned, immediately nodding, “Do you have Mario Kart?”

“You know I do.”

“Then I’ll be there!”

You invited them into your office so that you and Xavier could sit down and go over a day to film the content. You both settled for the upcoming week during on an off day where there weren’t any scheduled house shows or media to get in the way and cut the day short. The three were incredibly funny and made you feel extra included which was great because you wanted to form friendships and bonds, not just soley being the new writer or boss’s daughter.

You were thankful that Xavier thought about you for his side hobby that he was incredibly passionate about, and it gave you the perfect excuse to sit back and relax without worrying about work. Soon after they said their goodbye’s, a knock echoed on your door and the familiar voice rang through on the other side.

“Ms. Levesque?” It was Eddie.

You went to open it, smiling when you saw him. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Your dad wants to see you in his office.” He informed you, pointing down one side of the hallway as you stuck your head out.

“Did he say why?” You peered over at him and he shook his head with a shrug.

“Apparently, it has something to do with the chemistry reads, but that’s about all I know.”

“Okay, thank you.” You figured it’d be best to head to your father’s office first to see what he needed then get changed for the show.

“When you’re done, meet me in catering. You have some posters that need autographs, and we can catch up.” He offered with a smile, and you nodded.

Coming across your father’s office, you turned the knob, letting yourself in, assuming it must have been urgent if he sent Eddie as opposed to shooting you a text.

“Are we putting a pin in—hey!” You greeted, suddenly taken aback, with the setup in front of you.

A few creative members and producers sat along the elongated table with a camcorder set up on a tripod facing the opposite wall where none other than Seth sat, passing you a welcoming smile as he looked up from the script in his hands.

You smiled tightly, giving him a timid wave before peering over at your dad.

“You really weren’t joking when you said chemistry reads were you?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he handed you another copy of the script.

“Have a seat, sweetheart.”

Your dad pointed you towards the empty chair next to Seth and with everything happening so abruptly, you didn’t question his instruction and went right ahead and made yourself cozy next to the superstar.

“I want you to read from the first page to right about halfway through the second.” Your dad directed you, and you nodded, beginning to go through the lines that were practically seared into your brain from all the proofreading.

You and Seth both gawked over at your dad, waiting for his cue as he fidgeted with the camcorder, hitting the red button before giving you both a silent nod and a thumbs up.

“Isn’t there something bigger you should be chasing after? Like WWE Championship for instance?” You began, eyes looking up to meet Seth’s.

He chuckled, shaking his head, wearing a maniacal grin. “If you have already forgotten, let me remind you…I’ve already held the most prestigious championship in this company. I’ve carried this company on my back, and even when my knee gave out, I came back to reclaim what I never lost, and now I want something else.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decode what he meant. “I can’t give you what you won’t say.”

“I’m looking at her.” He whispered, staring at you deeply as if you were the only person around.

Before you could get lost, a look of disgust covered your face, as you pulled back from him scoffing begrudgingly.

“You don’t possibly think I would want anything to do with you do you? I have my priorities straight and I don’t need you getting in the way of them.”

As Seth’s lips parted, getting ready to read the next line, your father cleared his throat, holding his palm up in the air and stopping you both as you looked in his direction.

“Now I want you both to improvise. Keep it rolling…” Your dad declared, guiding his hands in a tumbling motion and you both nodded getting ready to proceed.

Seth tsk’ed, fingers rolling up the script, as he tapped it against his leg.

“Haven’t you ever thought about it? The prodigy of Triple H, myself, and his genius daughter. What’s not to like about that?”

He smirked, looking you up and down before you promptly cut in, trying not to feel the warmth of your blood seizing in your veins. It was just improvising.

“You’re power hungry. Need I remind you this time that my father only did what he did because he wanted what was best for business? And sure, it might have gotten you high up that mountain, but it came crashing down just as fast when your loyalty meant nothing to him.” You retorted sharply, watching his smirk fall into a hurt expression.

“What makes you think I’m still that man? I changed, I became better, and I am better than I ever was before.” His voice suddenly held a gentleness, as if he was trying to prove himself to you.

You stayed indifferent, pressing yourself forward as you spoke with a sternness he couldn’t look away from.

“You’ll get clouded by that same power hungry haze sooner or later. You’ll never be able to outgrow the man that stabbed your bothers in the back with a steel chair, the man that sold out for his own success, and the man who reclaimed it all not because he was destined to, but because you care all too much about proving you aren’t who people think you are because you’re scared it might truer than you think.”

You both held eye contact, searching each other’s eyes for a fleeting moment all before a faint applaud broke the scene and caused you both to grin and look over at the table and your father who seemed rather fascinated with the chemistry you had.

“Was that any good?” You bit down on your lip anxiously, hoping their applause wasn’t strictly out of pity for your mediocre acting.

Your father stopped the recording, passing you a sly and proud nod.

“If I say ‘yes’ does it mean that you’re okay with starring in your own storyline with Seth?” He responded with a convincing expression.

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

He nodded and chuckled, walking around to stand in front of you both.

“We couldn’t find anyone who meshed well with the script playing opposite of Seth. Originally, I was going to put a pin in it, but I figured I might as well give you a shot before I called it off.” He explained.

“I mean, if it��s okay with you then I’d be glad to do it.” You sputtered, looking over at Seth with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

The superstar immediately nodded, washing away your initial worry about him needing to work with a rookie like you. It was safe to say that you were clearly still getting used to be on camera, and you didn’t want to hinder the path of Seth’s career that was on a steady incline.

“I’d be dumb to turn this down. I would love to work with you on your very own storyline.” He grinned, your knees knocking into one another when he reached out for you to shake his hand as if you both were sealing the deal.

You clutched his softly, his hands giving yours a tender yet encouraging squeeze before you released at the sound of your father clapping his hands.

“Well, it’s settled…do you guys want to start tonight?”

Your eyes widened, looking at him in disbelief “T-tonight?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, knowing you and Seth’s characters needed a little revamp, a different storyline would help a ton, “A little run in segment in the middle of the show. It’ll be great for your character and we can get the ball rolling on this thing.”

“We can work something out before the show,” Seth suggested, pulling out his phone to check the time, flashing it to you, “We have plenty of time.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds somewhat reassuring.” You gave him a small smile, turning to your dad. “Do we have to hit anything specific?”

“The audience should know you know about him and his history, and that you aren’t too fond. That’s about it.” He looked back at the table of producers and writers who agreed.

“Wanna meet in my office in like ten minutes? I just have to get changed.” You looked down at yourself, still dressed in jeans and a fitted tee, plus some sneakers.

Seth nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’m gonna head to catering for a little and I’ll come right over.”

You both got up, taking a moment to say thank you to everyone who approved of your script to get it this far this early. Seth took an extra moment to give his thanks to your dad who picked him out of the many superstars that could’ve fulfilled the role instead. As you exited his office, you pointed Seth down to where he could find you before you both waved a quick goodbye.

Seth had a smile glued to his face on the walk to catering, pleased that it was you who he was working with on a storyline that frankly was entirely different from any other he worked on in the past.

He certainly didn’t expect himself to be picked for the role, and to be fair he was a bit hesitant to take it because he knew your script deserved the utmost justice being served to it.

But when your dad called for Eddie to find you for the read, he just knew there was no way he would be able to let anyone else play the part beside himself if it meant getting to work with you.

It was safe to say Seth was in good spirits, honored that it was him getting to work with you for your first big storyline. And while he couldn’t take you on a proper coffee outing to thank you for last week, and now the storyline under his belt—he could totally try to make you the best cup of instant coffee to make up for it.

He walked through catering doors, making a beeline for the beverage table and retrieving two cups as he got to work.

“Did you get cut too?” Finn called out to him from the table nearby.

Seth chuckled, shaking his head as he twisted the spigot of the jug to dispense some of the coffee into the cups.

“Actually, no.”

“So who are they pairing you with?” Renee suspected, keeping her eyes on him curiously.

“Nattie?” Charlotte wondered, knowing she was also called in for the chemistry read earlier in the day.

“Over my dead body.” TJ called out from another table, causing them all to laugh.

“Sasha?” Finn pressed once again.

“Nope.” Seth said quickly, ripping two sugar packets and pouring it into your cup.

“Boss lady?” Roman called out jokingly.

Seth’s silence was all they needed to hear and before he could even tell them the good news, the entire room was filled with “oh’s” and “ah’s” coming from left and right.

“No fucking way.” Dean hailed, pressing his hands against the table, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“How in the hell did you manage to get paired up with her?” Renee choked, perplexed and entertained by the sudden news.

“Paul, made the call,” Seth exhaled annoyingly, turning to them as he stirred the contents of your cup. “He called her in to read and it just felt natural. We meshed and now we’re working together.”

The group of wrestlers whistled like a bunch of high schoolers struck with the fact that their very own friend was getting closer and closer to the principal’s daughter—or at least that’s how Seth saw it. Sure, they were all grown adults, but his friends especially were guilty of their childish play and this was one of those moments he wished ended sooner, but they were only getting started.

“Maybe Paul knew all along he wanted you and her together, and he held that meeting last week mostly for you.” Kofi quipped and everyone laughed, making him roll his eyes.

“Yeah, right, are you getting paid for these conspiracy theories?” Seth scoffed, shooting them all a glare.

“No, but I do know I’m not the one who’s potentially going to get his ass fired by Triple H if I get too cozy with his daughter!” He boosted, as everyone shook his hand and laughed cheekily.

“You wanna know what I think?” Seth got ready to leave, wrapping his hands around the warm cups.

“Please enlighten us Mr. Monday Night.” Renee grinned, propping her chin up on her fist.

Seth scanned the entire room with a smug smirk on his face. “That you guys are jealous that I’m the first one out of all of us to get a script written by her and I get to work with her.”

“Oh, shut it!” Charlotte rolled her eyes as everyone boo’d him out.

“Catch you losers later.” He singsonged, strolling over to your office with a victorious smile on his face.

Stopping in front of your office, he balanced his coffee against his chest, knocking firmly on the door, letting you know it was him. There was some shuffling and mumbling coming from the inside, smoothing out your skirt and top before you pulled the door open and met him with a smile as you tossed your hair over your shoulder.

“Hey, come in.” You opened the door wider, making room for him to pass, before shutting it behind him.

Seth stepped in further into your office, holding out one of the cups towards you, “It’s not the best coffee but I did promise you some last time.”

You pressed your lips into a thankful pout, taking it from him.

“I did need an extra buzz to get through the show, so thank you.” You laughed.

He watched as you took a sip, concern muddled in his orbs, hoping you’d like it, and if you didn’t, then he’d have to hope the sugar packets hidden in his pocket could solve the problem.

“Not too bitter is it?” Seth rose his brow skeptically, and you went in for another sip before shaking your head.

“It’s actually just right.” You swirled the cup in your palm, running your tongue over your lips.

“If we’re ever in Iowa, I’ll take you to a better coffee spot.” He offered, following your lead to the couch getting comfortable.

“You know a place?” You lifted your brow, falling onto the cushions, and hit him right beside you not a second later.

“I own it.” He said proudly, containing a chuckle when you snapped your head at him in awe.

“No way, you don’t.” You gasped, poking his arm thinking that he was just messing with you.

He shook his head, holding his hands up in defense. “Believe it or not, I’m a coffee connoisseur myself and decided to open up a little shop in my hometown.”

“Okay now you legitimately need to take me out for coffee.” You insisted with a stern point, the two of you began laughing.

“You have my word.” He promised, tipping his cup into the air towards you.

Sure it was a gamble to make such a promise, especially considering everyone’s concern about him getting in trouble with Paul for getting too close, but it also came with the territory of the business and if anyone knew what that was like then it was certainly your father.

You and him were strictly business…and friends. But nothing more than that. The way that you two smiled and held conversations with each other was strictly platonic—at least that’s what he was trying to convince himself as he stared at you tenderly.

He didn’t understand why his friends were causing such a ruckus between you and him, because surely they all thought that he was better than that, right? There wasn’t any plausible way that you or he could fall into something deeper than platonic friends…right?

“Oh! Let me grab my laptop.” You remembered getting off the couch, causing Seth to blink wildly, shaking his head at himself for getting caught up in his thoughts.

You sat beside him once more, this time with your laptop in hand as you set your coffee down on the ground before lifting the screen and typing your password in. He grinned behind his cup as he took a sip, eyes trained on the wallpaper of you and your sisters, plus a few dogs that he assumed were a part of the family.

“So, how should we do this?” You puffed out a breath of air through your nose, opening an application from the toolbar, causing another screen to pop up, an empty document.

You typed your name and Seth’s in the same line, followed by ‘backstage segment’ before assigning two different colors for your lines.

Seth slanted closer to you, and you looked up at him for a quick second, doing the same so you could tilt the laptop towards him, giving him a better view of the screen.

“Why don’t I come in looking for your dad, but it’s actually you I run into?” He suggested, looking at you for approval.

You thought for a second, eyes trained up to the ceiling, trying to paint the picture in your head, and before you knew it, there was a certain twinkle in your eye, suddenly looking at him with a thoughtful grin.

“Yeah, I like that.” You nodded, getting to typing away.

Effortless was the best way to describe the time that passed as you and Seth bounced ideas off one another. In fact, your office was filled with laughter, “oh’s” and “ah’s” that reflected the ease that came with the process that most times were filled with silence and pondering. He made it all feel easy, even with the worry that lingered in the back of your mind about being on live TV again.

You bit down on your lip, fingers working across the keyboard thoughtfully as you typed.

“Why don’t you do what your mother did and be gone witch?” Seth read it aloud as you typed and he covered his mouth, and you threw your head back laughing.

“No way! Your mom would kill, then your dad.” He grimaced lightly, causing you to giggle uncontrollably, sliding your laptop off your lap as you hunched over your legs.

“I personally think the crowd would pop over it.” You caught your breath laying back against the cushions.

“I like what we have so far. Usually sitting in script writing isn’t this fun,” Seth admitted, watching as you reached for your laptop and deleted the last line.

You hummed, tilting your head, “Writing has never not been fun for me. Sure, sometimes there’s writer’s block, but I always find that jumping from script to script can help.”

You saved the script to your laptop, pulling up your emails and sending it to Eddie with ‘please print’ in the subject line followed by a smiley face. He grinned, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee, watching you hit the send button before closing your laptop.

He swallowed the bitter liquid, the two of you sitting in short silence before he nudged your side with his elbow, getting you to meet his eyes.

“I’m lucky, really. There’s no one I would rather work with.” He spoke with a sincerity that made those knots loop and tighten in your stomach all over again.

It tugged inside of you in a way that you could not even begin to pinpoint. The idea of it being because you were starting to form a little crush on him just didn’t seem fathomable for reasons that you knew were obvious. He would never go after his boss’s daughter. You were the forbidden fruit he couldn’t have, and you were positive it was just you misinterpreting his kindness so foolishly.

Before you could even thank him, a heavy knock sounded on the other side of the door, causing you both to whip your head in its direction.

“Come in!” You called out, immediately standing and brushing your palms against your skirt.

It was a camera crew and sound techs lugging their equipment, as one of them spoke.

“Is it okay if we set up?” They proposed, looking between you and Seth.

You nodded, glancing over at the superstar who stood upright beside you.

“Yeah, of course, we were just wrapping up.”

They all nodded, letting themselves in to prepare for the segment tonight.

“I’ll meet you here okay?” Seth held his arm out, letting you walk into a small hug.

“Sounds like a plan.” You murmured, rubbing his back, watching him leave, hoping time would go by faster.

As if you manifested it, time certainly did pass by quicker than you anticipated and Seth was already changed into a fitted tee and black skinny jeans. His hair tugged out of the low bun he had been wearing and misted with leave in conditioner. He was reading over the copy of his script while you got your hair and makeup touched up and the camera crew began framing the shot.

One of the producers instructed you both to get into places, anticipating the end of the second match of the night where directly after the cameras would cut to backstage. You stood off camera, shooting Seth a thumbs up and a big ole smile, while a stage hand counted down and the cameras were live.

“Hello hello, is anyone here?” He tapped on the already cracked door, pushing against it and letting himself in, looking around.

You snuck in from the opposite side of the camera, revealing yourself.

“Can I help you?”

Seth stared at you surprised, for a split second before giving you a tense nod and looking past you.

“Actually, you can’t, but if you could get me your dad, then I think I’ll be able to get my issue resolved.”

You rolled your eyes, hands resting on your hips, “Well my dad’s actually a little busy right now, but I can assure you, whatever it is you need, I can assist.”

“Yeah?” Seth crossed his arms over his chest, meeting your eyes skeptically.

“Come on, hit me.” You nodded with a smile, feigning assurance as you guided him to tell you what he so desperately wanted.

“A match against—”

“Yeah no,” You cut him off, dropping the smile on your face and causing Seth to furrow his brows perplexed.

“Excuse me?” He spoke taken aback by your harshness.

“You don’t think I’m stupid do you? I know your history, Seth, and to be quite frank, I’m not the fondest of you. To be honest, I don’t even like you all that much.”

“Look lady, I did nothing to you, so I don’t see why you’re treating me the way you are right now.”

“It’s not about what you did to me, Seth. It’s about what you did to other people. What you did to your brothers, Roman and Dean. What you did to my dad after everything he did for you. And right now, I have my guard up because I don’t know what you’ll do to me.”

“I’ll have you know that I apologized to my brothers. We’ve moved on and they’ve forgiven me. As for your dad,” Seth paused, looking at you, “He got what he had coming…and so did you mom.”

You gritted your teeth, palm lifting up as if you were going to slap him before your dad, cleared his throat, entering the frame and you hurriedly lowered your hand and shot him a sweet smile.

“Hi dad!” You beamed, attempting to cut the tension in the small space.

“Hey sweetie,” He greeted you with a hug, ignoring Seth for a moment, before turning to face him finally, “You met my daughter I see.”

“She’s a real delight.” Seth faked a smile, and you rolled your eyes when your dad wasn’t looking.

“Was there something you needed?” Hunter requested, and Seth’s mouth opened about to speak.

“He was actually just leaving dad.” You interjected, shaking your head and gesturing Seth out the door.

But he stood in place, glaring at you until you hardened your gaze and pointed him out once more.

“Bye-bye now.” You twiddled your fingers, smiling evilly when he turned his back and walked out.

The camera cut back to the ring, and you immediately broke character with a giggle relieved that it went better than you had planned, and to your surprise you and Seth worked effortlessly. Your father shook his head, impressed by how good you were at playing the bad guy, even after you were initially opposed to being a heel because you didn’t know if you possessed any of the bad guy qualities.

“I’m sure everyone is now officially going to call me mom’s mini me.” You joked, meeting your father’s palm with a high five.

“You sure are.” Your dad grinned, ruffling the top of your head, a warm gesture of his approval that you always had.

The two of you moved towards your desk, allowing the crew to clear out with all their equipment, and it wasn’t long before Seth had made his way back in, wearing the same grin that you had glued onto your face even after the cameras called cut.

“For a second, I thought you really were going to hit me.” Seth shook his head playfully, rubbing his hand over his cheek where you were going to hit him.

You gasped dramatically, holding a hand over your heart, “I would never!” You insisted, the two of you laughing as your dad watched on.

He was well aware that the decision to have you and Seth work together was the best one he could have made, despite the oppositions who argued otherwise. Sure, many of the producers and writers were weary of Paul allowing his daughter to act in her very own script, especially a romantic one, but Paul knew better than anyone that you were the perfect fit, and Seth was the perfect partner to make it all happen.

While Seth was the one who named Paul one of his biggest mentors, Paul trusted Seth with not just his creative take on wrestling, but the ability to work with new talent not just to put them over, but to make him better in the process. It was no different from trusting Seth with you, knowing he would help you develop your character for the long run while also getting the chance to explore a creative direction that the fans had never seen from him before.

Your father knew you and Seth were the perfect match for TV and that was it.

“Wanna go to catering?” Seth suggested, hoping you’d tag along since he had virtually nothing else to do for the night.

You nodded, retrieving your phone off your desk. “Yeah, I’m actually meting Eddie there. I have a few posters to sign and he wants to catch up.” You shot Eddie a quick text that you would be there soon.

“Well, great job you two.” Your dad spoke, giving you both a pat on the back, content with how the segment went and hoping the fans would be excited for next week where they got to see more of you two together.

“Fun weekend?” Seth asked, falling into step beside you, walking through the hallways.

You nodded enthusiastically, retelling what you and your family had been up to.

“It was actually really fun and relaxing at the same time. Plus, I really hit a home run when my sister opened the present I got her.”

You unlocked your phone, opening the photos app, and scrolling to find the photo your mom snapped of you and your sister as she ripped open her present.

“What’d you get her?” He stared, watching as you slid through some images before finally finding the one and passing it over to him.

“It’s one of those vintagey polaroid cameras.” You explained, excitement woven into your voice, “And it’s not the modern ones they brought back into style. It’s like an actual one from the 80s I think? I found it at consignment store and picked up some film to go along with it.”

Seth laughed, fingers scrolling through the play-by-play photos which revealed your sisters surprised expression the more she got through the wrapping paper and realized what she got. It ended with you two embracing in a hug, and Seth smiled warmly at the thought you put in, making sure you got her something that was worth a reaction like that.

“She looks super stoked.” Seth chuckled, passing the phone back to you.

You hummed, pouting slightly at the screen a little at the screen and locking it. “I’m a little jealous because I’ve been wanting one myself.” You admitted with a laugh, shaking your head at your own wistfulness.

Seth smirked, opening the catering doors for you, letting you walk in first.

“You should get one. It’ll complete the whole director look you got going on.” He spoke, walking in behind you and gesturing his hand in the air over your silhouette.

You giggled softly, looking towards the table in the back of the room where Eddie was waving you over.

“I’ll be over there.” You pointed, and Seth nodded, giving Eddie a little wave before turning his attention back to you.

“Stop by if you have time.” Seth replied, tone inviting, tilting his head towards the table where all of his friends were seated waiting for him to join them.

“I will.” You assured him with a smile, heading to Eddie while Seth went to grab food.

The fine tip sharpie was nestled into your hand and you began the time consuming and finger cramping process of getting the stack of posters signed for the beloved WWE fans. Thankfully, you and Eddie both created an efficient rhythm where you would sign and he would stack them, keeping to process going smoothly.

“How was your sister’s birthday?” He swiped away another poster into the growing signed pile.

“Adorable! She had a few friends over for her birthday party, and she was surprised my dad and I flew down in time.” You gushed, hand working overtime to get everything done in one sitting.

“That’s nice. Why didn’t I see you Friday, by the way?” He was too busy with your father’s tasks for him to find you or shoot you a text last week.

“I got dinner with Seth and a few other people, and I caught a ride with them back to the hotel.” You stopped for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. “Thanks for sending my stuff to the suite by the way.”

Eddie nodded, keeping the posters going, but not without a little laugh getting caught in his throat before he spoke, “Seth, huh?”

You furrowed your brows, the pen still working against the glossy photos.

“What about him?” You pressed, wondering what he was getting at.

Eddie shrugged, his knowing eyes avoided with yours trained on the photos in front of you. “Nothing, he just seems to cozy up to you that’s all.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not true.” You argued, shaking your head dismissively.

“You ran into each other like a billion times on your first day—two of which I was there to see with my own eyes.” He retorted, as if it meant something deeper than two people coincidentally bumping into each other.

“Well, we work together now, and now with the new storyline expect to see more of us together.” You replied, attempting to brush off any implications that it was deeper than surface level.

“In a cozy way or?” Eddie teased, knocking his foot lightly into your calves under the table.

“Oh my god, stop.” You groaned, rolling your eyes at his childish behavior that was borderline schoolgirl like.

“I’m messing with you,” Eddie eased up with a chuckle, “Plus, your dad already made it clear that talent is off limits.” He admitted, sucking in a sharp breath at the memory of the tense meeting just a few days ago.

“He’s not actually serious about that.” You countered with a huff, defiance creeping into your voice.

Eddie deadpanned, staring at you in disbelief, “What do you mean ‘not serious’? He is totally absolutely serious about it.”

You shrugged, not understanding what the big deal was anyway.

“Well for one, I am a grown woman who gets to decide what I want, and two, he and my mom literally did what he’s now tell me not to do, which is very hypocritical if you ask me.”

Eddie nodded, understanding your point, but at the same time weary of what your father was capable of if anyone thought about pursing you.

“No I know that, but…wouldn’t he like absolutely freak out if you went against him?”

“This is all hypothetical you know that, right? I’m not actually going to go after Seth.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head at him, hoping he knew you weren’t being actually serious about you and your new on-screen interest.

“What if Seth wants to go after you?” Eddie’s tone was suddenly a lot less teasing and more so serious.

“He’d be out of his mind.” You sighed, waving off the thought of that even happening.

“He already is.” Eddie muttered under his breath, eyes catching the sigh of Seth staring at you from across the room while you tried not to feel it.

Seth settled his eyes back on his plate of salad and grilled chicken, seated between Dean and Kofi as everyone began talking about the elephant in the room, which was you and Seth—of course.

“Nice segment,” Dean patted him on the back with a smirk. “You guys have chemistry.” He added, and the table agreed with hums and smiles.

Seth chewed his food and swallowed, nodding his head thankfully, “Well I mean, that’s why Paul picked her and I.”

Dean snorted, shaking his head with a lopsided grin. “I mean, romantic sexual chemistry.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Seth cursed, shaking his head in disagreement.

The table giggled and failed to hide their growing smirks, knowing damn well there was an unspoken chemistry between you both no matter how hard Seth tried to deny it.

“It’s no surprise when we were practically barging in on your date last week.” Charlotte piped with a soft whistle, sipping her energy drink through a straw.

“Hold up what?” Xavier’s eyes shot towards Seth, lifting a troubling brow.

Seth sighed, forking pieces of dressed lettuce onto the prongs as he spoke.

“We just went out to dinner and I walked her up to her hotel room. We were on the same floor, so it was just coincidence.”

“Chivalry, my man!” Big E hooted.

“Thank you.” Seth looked over at him with an empathetic expression, knowing at least he understood what it meant to be a courteous person.

But Kofi piped in, shaking his head. “Oh, it wasn’t a compliment. You’re down bad dude.” He corrected with a laughed, reaching across the table to give Big E a fist bump.

“What does that even mean?” Seth furrowed his brows confused, before ultimately shaking his head not wanting to hear it.

“We’re friends. And you guys have to drop this, we’re gonna be working together a lot and the last thing—”

Before he could even finish his statement, he felt a hand slide across the slope of his shoulder, causing him to look behind him, only to be met by you. Your stood above him, wearing your infectious smile as your hand remained on his clothed shoulder.

“I gotta run, but I’ll try to find you later if I have time.” You told him, eyes darting quickly to Eddie who was waiting up for you near the catering doors.

Seth nodded, immediately smiling, “Yeah, of course,” He replied.

He dropped the fork onto his plate, hand reaching up to cover yours. “Good job earlier by the way.”

You squeezed his skin tenderly, his rough fingertips grazing over your knuckles as you two smiled idiotically at each other. Everyone catching the way you both acted as if you were the only two people in the room—as if it really was just an innocent start of a friendship.

“Thanks. It always helps when you have a good scene partner to work with.” You spoke softly with another gracious nod.

With that, Seth let his hand fall off yours, and you brought your arm back to your side, finally tearing your eyes away from solely his and finally acknowledging everyone else with a wave.

“Bye guys,” you chorused, looking at Seth once more, mouthing “bye” and spinning on your heel, leaving with Eddie.

“That’s what it is.” Kofi muttered, draping his arm across Seth’s shoulder.

“What?” Seth finally tore his eyes from the catering door and his smile gradually dropped.

“That look on your face.” He pointed, gesturing a finger in a circular motion over his face.

“You being so gushy mushy over her? That’s being down bad my friend.”

Seth didn’t entertain the accusation, not even in the slightest convinced as he continued to eat his food and his friends went on with their badgering. He wasn’t down bad or whatever it was they were claiming.

All of it was completely and utterly foolish—he just wondered if you thought so too.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter three of icsy!!! i had been working on this chapter for awhile and it is longer than i expected it to be, but thats just me being a typical yappersorous (my bad). let me know what you thing!!! seems like reader and seth are down bad and they don't even know it just yet 😜

[dannys-dream]

Invisible String - Jake Kiszka x f! Reader - Chaper One - Series

You’re just a small town girl who always had big dreams of living in Nashville. You hoped your music would get you out of your hometown, and your dreams were finally coming true. You knew you had your best friend, your music, and a new guitar to take you through the new life ahead of you. What you didn’t know was what and who this new adventure would bring you. Used to beach town life, could you adjust to the big city and the big names attached to it? 

Warnings : None this chapter :)

Authors Note : This is something I’ve had in the works for a little while now. I hope you enjoy this series. Please let me know if you have any suggestions, or if you’d like to be added to a tag list! <3

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You couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After years of coffee shop shows, bar performances, and the occasional birthday party or wedding, you were finally moving to Nashville. A dream since you were just a kid, stuck in a small beach town tucked away in the outskirts of Washington. You’d saved every penny from your gigs, giving guitar lessons to the neighborhood kids, and everything you could spare from your 9-5 paychecks. You checked your bank account religiously, waiting for the day you’d finally saved enough. All you needed was a few months rent, and the money to put gas in the U-Haul, yours and Cam’s home for the 36 hour drive. 

Cam had been your best friend since middle school. An absolute force to be reckoned with at your dodgy little public schools. You trusted her with your life, and believe me when I say there were plenty of times you’d gotten in enough trouble to prove you could. The day you told her you’d started saving to move, she started saving too. She told you that you'd have a piece of home with you down in the south, and she couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing you all the time. You thanked God every day since. You couldn’t imagine not living side by side with her either. So the two of you packed everything you owned into a little U-Haul, and drove away from the only place you’d ever known. Away from your families and friends who all waved and cheered you on as you pulled out of the driveway. 

“I can’t stop laughing, oh my god y/n. I can’t breathe. Why were they waving us off like it’s the ancient times and we’re setting sail on the Titanic or something?” She was cackling in the passenger seat, resting one hand on her stomach as she fanned herself with the other.

“Camille, be nice. They just love us.” A chuckle leaving your mouth as you merge onto the highway. You slide your phone to Cam across the bench seat and tell her your passcode. “Put our playlist on. I’m not driving all day without music, you freak.” You roll the windows down and step on the gas as Journey begins to spill from the speakers. 

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Day three of driving, your last day. The two of you had fought about pretty much everything, music, who was driving, what hotel or motel you’d sleep in, what was for lunch or dinner. There were good times too, though. Sightseeing, weird rest stops, having to pull over on the highway so Cam could pee because she absolutely couldn’t hold it in until the next bathroom (something you’d be sure to tease her about for the rest of your lives). None of that seemed to matter when the U-Haul was finally parked in your new driveway. A small 2 bedroom brick home stared back at you as you started unloading your things, the emerald green door waiting for your keys. 

“Hey C, I think we should unpack everything and then I can go return the U-Haul. I wanna get it over with sooner rather than later.” Yelling across the lawn, she agreed. You quickly passed boxes to her, not that there were too many in the truck. Finally empty, you and Camille headed inside to start unpacking boxes. You got your room set up enough to sleep in tonight, and told Cam you were headed out to return the U-Haul. You pulled out of the driveway, your favorite song playing as you turned out of the neighborhood, that is until your phone started ringing. Oh great, it’s your mother. 

“Hi momma, we just got to the house! We’re finally home.” Your mother was so excited for you to get out of Washington, even if it meant being almost across the country from her. 

“Hi baby! I’m so glad you girls made it safe. I just wanted to call because I have a gift for you.” Your mom couldn’t help but let out a choked sob. “You worked so hard to get out there, you saved so much money. Your dad and I wanted to get you something special.” 

“Mom, you’ve got me worried. Why’re you crying?” 

“Nothing wrong, y/n. We saved up some money for you to get a new guitar. A special one for your new life, in your new town. I just transferred you the money, my love.” 

“We’ve never been more proud to be your parents.” Your dad chimed in, the pride and sadness of your move evident in his voice.

Tears streamed down your face as you thanked them, and promised to send pictures when you picked out your new guitar. You wrapped up the phone call, thanking her once more, right as you pulled into the U-Haul parking lot. You paid for your rental, and called an Uber, deciding to have it take you to a small local guitar shop. Ramblr’s Music. Repairs, sales, lessons. On top of getting a new guitar, who knows. Maybe you could score a job there. 

A silver Honda pulled up next to you, and confirmed they were your Uber. As you slid into the backseat, you heard the music. A major guitar solo was playing, and it was stunning . Leaning forward and squinting your eyes you could see what it was. Greta Van Fleet. You made a mental note to check them out later, and made small talk with the Uber driver until you found yourself walking up to the little music shop. You’d barely been in Nashville five hours, and your life would already never be the same.

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You’d been perusing the guitars for over an hour, but none of them felt right. You knew they were fine instruments, they just weren’t your dream guitar. They weren’t a vintage Les Paul SG. You’d wanted one for years, since you’d taken your music seriously. The shape, the sound. Something so classic and beautiful that the modern re-releases just couldn’t quite compare to. Fully knowing it was out of your budget, you decided to ask someone anyway. You found yourself walking toward the desk, a short kid maybe 17 standing there on his phone. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking around and I don’t see what I was hoping to find. Do you maybe have any Les Paul SG’s?  Maybe one in the back, or do you know where I could find one? I’m new in town and don’t really know where to look.” You let out a small laugh, immediately feeling out of your element. 

“Actually, yeah. We’ve got one in the back that I guess has been on hold or something but it’s been weeks and the guy never came to get it. It’s in a case and everything, too. Let me go get it.” Popping his gum as he walked away, your heart was pounding. Were you actually about to buy your dream guitar? Something about Nashville was proving to be magical. 

He came back, a busted black leather hard case in hand. “Here, look it over. I think it's a ‘61 but I could be wrong. Just started working here last week.” The clasps clanked as you pulled them up and off, finally lifting the lid to the case. There she was. A beautiful cherry stain on the wood, new strings and a crack down the bottom half of the guitar, only adding personality and proof the instrument was well loved prior to you.  You carried the guitar over to an amp, plugging it in and sitting on the stool. You wrestled to figure out what song to play, finally deciding on one of the songs you’d put time into learning. Nothing Else Matters, your fathers favorite Metallica song. You’d spent hours learning to play it for him, and could remember the tears in his eyes when you finally showed him. A fond memory you now shared with your dream guitar. God, it played like perfection. You knew there was no way you’d walk out of this store without the cherry red beast. 

You walked back to the counter and safely secured the guitar into the case after taking a photo. The new kid checked you out, enabling a purchase you probably shouldn’t have made. You ordered an Uber, and slipped into the backseat with your new baby. 

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭

Jakes POV

Tour had been beyond exhausting. You loved playing, you loved the fans, you loved seeing the different states and countries. The only thing you loved more? Being at home, in bed with some popcorn and whiskey, watching a documentary on pirates. Especially on a fine Wednesday night such as this. Finally rolling out of bed for the first time in hours, your slippers pull you down the stairs and into the kitchen in search of food more filling than the snacks upstairs. Regrettably, you hadn’t gone grocery shopping in some time, simply surviving on what was left in your pantry before you left on tour. A groan leaves your chest as you trudge back upstairs. Slipping on your favorite blue jeans and a button up, you find your car keys and make your way to the jeep sitting in your garage. You decided that while you were out, you might as well run the rest of the errands you’d been neglecting in lieu of alone time. 

Your favorite playlist queued, and sunglasses pressed to your face, you pulled out of the garage and headed off to Ramblr’s. Your beloved guitar had taken far too much of a beating this last leg, and a crack appeared down the body. You had held her together for the last few shows using some electrical tape, the best thing you could get your hands on while on the road. On the way home from the airport, you dropped your guitar off to be repaired, only trusting Scott, the store owner, to repair your precious cargo. You rolled your car windows up, and hit your vape one last time before getting out and heading to the building. The second the shop doors opened, an uneasy feeling washed over you as the sounds of Scott screaming at some teenager filled your ears. 

“Are you fucking stupid, or are you dumb Jeremy? No, you know what you are? Fucking fired. Get out of my shop!” Scott pushed over a small display of guitar straps and stomped off, leaving who you assumed was Jeremy in a crumpled sobbing mess on the floor. You walked over to him, and crouched down. 

“Hey, Jeremy. Whatever’s going on, it’ll be okay. I’m Jake, and I’ve known Scott a real long time. I’m sure he’s just having a rough day. Let me go talk to him.” 

Jeremy looked back at you in horror, and pushed himself away. “I’m so sorry sir. I’m so sorry.” He picked himself off of the floor, and bolted outside, not even bothering to collect his personal items or clock off. You weren’t sure what happened, but you knew it couldn’t be good. 

You made your way to the back, where Scott’s office was and tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for whatever shit storm he was about to drop on you. You cleared your throat, and Scott’s eyes shot up to meet yours. His appearance disheveled, and tears of frustration threatened to fall down his face. 

“Ah, shit. Hey kid. Come in, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk. You shuffled over, and pulled the chair out before sinking into the plush cushion. He avoided eye contact with you, which was very unusual. You also noted him picking at his nails, something he did when stressed. 

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to bite the bullet. “Give it to me straight, Scotty. What the hell is going on?” 

His head dropped in shame, and he took a deep breath before shakily answering you. “Jake, that stupid new kid. He sold your guitar.”

Your blood ran cold, and suddenly all you saw was red. “Scott you’re fucking joking, right? Don’t fuck with me. Bring me my guitar.” 

He shoved the paperwork towards you, all of it showing the colossal fuckup Jeremy had made. “I wish it was a joke, Jake. But the kid sold her off to some girl who came in a few hours ago. I don't even know how he screwed this up so bad.”

You ran a hand through your hair, and sighed. “Make me a copy of this. I’m gonna go find her.”

”I already tried the number Jake. She wont pick up.”

You stood from the chair and looked down at him. “Scott, just make me a damn copy.”

He left the room, and came back with the papers for you and continued to apologize profusely as you walked out of the store. The rain soaked your clothes as you walked to the car, your breath visible in the cold weather. 

The paperwork told you basically nothing. Just her name, and an out of state phone number. The kid didn’t even fully fill out the sale paperwork, leaving the address and email slots bare. You got in the car, phone number in hand and hoped and prayed that she hadn’t left town. That guitar was your prized possession, the best gift you’d ever received. You’d been beyond floored when the Chicago Music Exchange let you have it, free of charge. And now, you had no idea where she was. 

You took a shaky breath, and dialed the number. It didn’t even ring. You’d immediately been sent to voicemail, and the default one at that. You brought your hands to your face, and rubbed your eyes. How could Scott let this happen?

・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・✫・゜・。・。・゜✭・・

End of first chapter <3

TAGLIST : @hollyco @literal-dead-leaf @anythingforjtk @do-it-jakey-baby @eternal-life94

[asahicore]

moonlight - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. dancer!sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. In August 1963, your monotonous summer vacation becomes a lot more exciting when you meet a group of dancers that work as the entertainment staff of the resort you and your family are staying at. Your fascination with them, and particularly dancers and close friends Sunghoon and Chaewon, pushes you to help them out by taking Chaewon's place at another hotel's show when she's unable to dance. The week you spend with Sunghoon as he teaches you to dance and the events thereafter give you a lot more than the ability to mambo. genre. dirty dancing au, strangers to lovers, summer au, poor boy x rich girl trope, the Big 3 (fluff angst n smut) word count. 32.2k a/n. it's finally here !!! i've been working on this for a while so i hope you guys will like it, please lmk what u think ur feedback is super important to me !!! if you've seen dirty dancing you'll see that this is like.. a complete copy of the movie lmaooo i'm sorry i didn't wanna stray from the plot cz i love it 2 much <//3 i'll make a posting schedule shortly after this so you guys can see which of my old works i'll be reposting and all that :)) enjoy !! also thanks to @ozymandia-s for betareading this u deserve the world and u made this fic a thousand times better <333 and yep thats a compliment from me to u so u better treasure it fr.

It’s the summer of 1963, everybody calls you Baby, and it hasn’t occurred to you to mind. You’re 18, have plans to change the world, and are sure there isn’t a better man than your father.

After years of being too busy to leave work for over a week, your father has finally retired, and you can all go on a long, well-deserved summer break. Like most people your age, your dream vacation would be to backpack through Europe or Asia, discovering the wonders the world has to offer, meeting people from all walks of life and eating all sorts of foreign delicacies. But your parents wish for something more laid-back, so, on the first Sunday of August, after a six-hour drive, you get out of the car at Kellerman’s, a summer resort that belongs to your father’s old friend. You are to spend the rest of the month here, until the last day of the season.

The resort is truly a sight to behold. Even though it’s only four floors high, the main building is downright massive in terms of how much space it occupies. You can imagine the many rooms it must hold, such as the different restaurants and their respective kitchens, the ballroom and other leisure rooms, the stage for various shows, and some offices and apartments where the highest members of staff reside. Tables are scattered all across the front lawn, mainly older ladies and gentlemen sitting at them, drinking lemonade, playing cards, gossiping. You can make out a golf course and a small pond from afar, as well as the back lawn where you’re told most of the activities take place. Such activities include the outdoor dancing lessons, which your mother and sister Seeun want to get to immediately.

Max, your father’s friend, greets you as soon as you arrive as if he’s been waiting for you. Amused, you watch as they clasp each other’s hand before coming into an embrace, giving three hard but friendly pats to the other’s back. “So glad to finally have you here, Doc,” Max says earnestly. “I promise you, one week here and you’ll feel like you’ve never worked a day in your life, that’s how relaxed you’ll be.” Your father laughs and nods, and you turn your attention away when they start talking about work, and how life’s been, and how your daughters have grown, and other things you don’t care much for. 

You notice that a member of staff has begun to unload your numerous bags from the trunk, about half of which are your sister’s (“See, Mommy, I told you I should’ve brought those coral heels!” you hear her complain), and start helping him out. He turns to you with a smile as you haul a suitcase onto the trolley.

“Hey, thanks a lot! You looking for a job here?” he jokes, making you smile.

“Just wanted to help out, but I’ll let you know. I’m Baby, by the way.”

“Baby? Is that your real name?” he asks with an amused expression and a quizzical tilt to his head.

“No, but it’s what everyone calls me,” you beam back.

“Alright then, Baby. I’m Jake.” He wipes some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before extending it to you, and you take it, shaking it enthusiastically. 

Your conversation stops there when your father calls out your name, motioning for you to follow him and your mother and sister. “Come, Baby, let the staff do their work.” You give Jake an apologetic smile and wave him goodbye, but he simply shrugs and turns away, seemingly used to this kind of dismissal from guests.

“See you around, Baby,” you hear him say as you start to walk away.

-

Seeun only gives you a few minutes to settle into your shared room and unpack your suitcase before she practically drags you outside, eager to get to the dance class in time. Your older sister absolutely loves dancing. No matter where or with who, if there’s music, she’ll start moving. 

You, on the other hand, have two left feet, which doesn’t make dancing such a fun activity. You like it, but always feel you look like a fool. As for dancing with a partner, the intimacy that comes with it is too much for you, and isn’t something you particularly want to share with boys you barely know, nevermind complete strangers, like the people at the merengue class your sister is making you rush to. 

It takes place in the gazebo, which is wide enough to host about thirty guests and the instructor, who introduces herself as Chaewon. You try to follow her “1, 2, 1, 2” as best you can but it’s hard to focus on the rhythm when you have to avoid being stepped on by the lady to your left and stepping on the man to your right. Everything around you is turned upside down when she cheerfully calls out, “Let’s get into a circle! Gents on the outside, ladies on the inside! C’mon now!”

You manage to make your way into the inner circle, holding onto the hips of the woman in front of you, and finally start to sway to the rhythm a bit more. “Come on ladies! God wouldn’t have given you this body if he didn’t want you to shake it!” Chaewon shouts enthusiastically, emphasizing on the “shake” with a movement of her own.

“On the count of three,” she calls out, “ladies, you’ll turn around, and meet the man of your dreams! 1, 2, 3!”

You find yourself face to face with a grandma that had ended up in the gents’ circle and force on your best smile as you dance with her. She looks delighted, but that expression might just be stuck on her face permanently.

The class comes to an end and the afternoon with it, and you leave the bungalow while everyone gets ready for dinner, yelling out that you’re going to look around as you close the door behind you. It’s the early evening and the sun has just started to set, but not enough for the gentle breeze to be too cold. The small, round bushes and colorful flowers that line the pebbled path from the bungalows to the main building have been expertly tended to; there isn’t a stray weed, nor branch that hasn’t been cut properly nor a wilting plant. It’s all so perfect, it almost looks fake. Yet, when you bend down to feel a petal, it’s soft under your fingertips and very much real.

You walk on the porch that surrounds the main building until you reach the outside entrance to the restaurant. Max’s booming voice catches your attention and you’re able to peek through the ajar door, making sure you can’t be seen from where you stand. Your father’s friend sits at a table while the waiters stand in a half-circle in front of him, hands locked behind them and heads slightly bowed.

“Tonight’s the start of the second half of the season, so I’ll use this opportunity to set a little reminder. You’re here because I chose you lot from the most prestigious schools in the country and you need some financial help, correct?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “So do your job, and do it well. And if you want extra compensation, the gents here may be very generous if you show their daughters a good time and keep their wives happy. But no funny business, you keep your hands off. Got it?”

A quiet flurry of yeses is heard throughout the room just as a group of young people stride in, the sight of them piquing your interest. They’re wearing much more fitted and fashionable clothes compared to the waiters’ simple white vests and trousers, and carry themselves with a confidence you’ve only seen in celebrities and important people. The man that leads them particularly catches your attention: slicked-back hair, useless sunglasses now that the sun has set, all-black clothes, too much leather for the summer weather and the prettiest face you think you’ve ever seen to top it all off. He looks like an off-duty movie star.

“You hear that, boys? No funny business,” he says with a smirk to the group behind him, and they chuckle in response, eyeing the waiters up and down. They work at the same establishment, but they seem to be from two totally different worlds, you notice.

“I think you’re the one who should keep that in mind,” one of the waiters says just as the group passes by him, just loud enough for the other guy to hear. He reacts immediately to the taunt, spinning around and pointing a threatening finger to the waiter’s chest. 

“And I think you should heed your own advice, you jackass,” he spits, unfiltered venom in his voice. The waiter only smirks condescendingly, as if proud his remark had struck a nerve.

“Alright, alright, calm down, Sunghoon, and lay off of Heeseung. You’re booked and busy this week, and your whole entertainment team has work to do, okay?” Max says, tone stern as if telling a child off.

Sunghoon takes a step back but doesn’t look away from Heeseung as he scoffs a simple whatever. He then pivots back around and leads his team out of the room. You decide you’ve seen enough and turn around yourself, heading back to your family’s bungalow with quick steps.

Barely half an hour later, you’re back at the restaurant. The tables have all been set, the candles have been lit, a band is playing soft jazz in the corner, and the waiters are taking care of the guests’ orders and keeping them content. You’ve just sat down when Max himself approaches, introducing your waiter for tonight to your table. You try not to let your astonishment show when you instantly recognise him as the one who had had that scuff with Sunghoon earlier.

“Doc, this is Heeseung Lee, and he’ll take care of you tonight,” he addresses your father, a paternal hand around Heeseung’s shoulder. “He’s a third year med student at Harvard and has been working here every summer for the past three years. A very reliable and hardworking young man.” You feel like you’re being sold a car, but your father just smiles and nods approvingly at Heeseung.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Heeseung,” your father greets, holding out a hand for the young man to shake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Doctor,” Heeseung responds, a most dazzling smile on his lips. If you hadn’t seen him earlier, you wouldn’t believe that this smile could turn snarky and patronizing.

“This is my wife, our eldest Seeun and our youngest Y/N, but we all call her Baby. She’s going to change the world,” your father introduces, beaming proudly at you.

“Yeah, and Seeun’s going to decorate it,” you say, turning to your sister. A bit unprovoked, perhaps, but this is just the way you and your sister have always been. You smile and tilt your head innocently as she glares at you.

“I think she already does,” Heeseung says, your eyebrow raising up in surprise as your sister looks down at her hands, the sudden compliment making her blush.

“Alright, Heeseung, go get these folks our best champagne. On the house!” Max exclaims, beaming at your parents.

“Yes, sir,” Heeseung says, bowing his head slightly to Max and your table before shooting your sister a smile and walking off. 

“Oh, and here’s someone else I want to introduce to you - Jay, come here! That’s my grandson Jay. Yale Business School,” Max says emphatically. Jay approaches your table quickly, a somewhat self-assured yet awkward smile on his face. He greets your parents and sister with a nod of his head until his eyes settle on you. “This is Baby, I was telling you about her earlier. She’s going to study at Yale too, and her dad says she’ll change the world!”

Jay’s lips form a pout, the kind of pout one makes when watching kittens play or a child running to his mother, as if he finds your ambitions endearing. Used to this kind of reaction from men, you raise your eyebrows and a small smile spreads on your face as if to say, “yep, that’s me.”

“How nice, Baby. But before you go off and do that, how about you save me a dance? Tomorrow night at the ball?” he offers, and the urge to kick him in the balls is hard to resist, but resist you must.

“Of course she will!” your father answers for you, and you have no choice but to put on your best fake smile, but none of the three men seem to see through it. If your mother and sister notice how annoyed you are, they don’t say anything. Knowing them, they probably think you’re being unreasonable if you’re not already throwing yourself at such an obviously intelligent and respectable young man.

That’s how you find yourself the next day, hands stiffly clasped behind Jay’s neck and his own on the sides of your waist, dancing with him to a slow-paced but lighthearted live song, although dancing might be an overstatement as it’s impossible to find a proper rhythm with someone as clumsy as him. You never thought you’d meet a worse dancer than you, but here you were. You have to keep yourself from snorting everytime he winces or tuts when you “accidentally” step on his foot, and you make sure to leave ample room between the two of you for the Holy Spirit.

Most of the dance is spent in awkward silence, probably due to the fact that Jay’s gaze, one that is perhaps meant to be seductive but only comes off as creepy, seems to linger on you for too long and too many times. When a pair of kids spins right by you, looking far more talented and serious in their dancing than the two of you, Jay seems to think he needs to step up his game and tightens his grip on your waist. Although you try to disguise it as best you can, the action makes you look up at him in alarm, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching when he bends down to say something in your ear although the music isn’t that loud.

“So, Yale, huh? What are you going to study? Design?”

“Um, Environmental Studies and Politics, actually. I’m particularly interested in how underdeveloped countries work and how we can change things there for the better, rather than making things worse,” you correct him, slightly raising your voice so he can hear you from where you’re standing. 

Jay is visibly taken aback by your detailed response, and all he can do is nod. “Right, right, that’s-”

To no one’s disappointment, you never find out what Jay was going to say next because right then, the music suddenly picks up and one of the musicians announces “Sunghoon and Chaewon of the Entertainment Team for a mambo demonstration” into his mic. Your ears perk up at the sound of those two vaguely familiar names, and you quickly recognise Sunghoon as the leather-clad man from earlier and Chaewon as the merengue class instructor from yesterday. He’s now wearing a black suit jacket and matching trousers with a tight white button-up, the clothes fitting him perfectly and making the muscles underneath them appear when the light hits him just right. On her is one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve ever seen, the red fringed fabric draping over her body like it was created for her, her toned upper back and arms on display.

The crowd of guests quickly forms a circle around the couple, giving them enough space to put on their show, and everyone, including you, is immediately enthralled by their performance. You’re mesmerized by how elegant and energetic at once their dance is, the smiles on their faces unfaltering and their legs and arms forming perfect lines at all times. Their posture is proud and their gazes are always fixed on each other even as they spin around, somehow never getting dizzy. They move in perfect synchronization as one entity rather than two separate people simply dancing together, and even though it is probably due to an impressive amount of practice, you can’t help but find that their chemistry is what makes them so fascinating. When he lifts her into the air, it’s with so little effort that she looks like she weighs no more than a feather. There is not a step out of place, and you’re reminded of those impeccable bushes and flowers from the day before. It makes you wonder how it is possible for two people to look so perfect together, and if that perfection is only superficial or not.

“Who are they?” you ask Jay, your curiosity about them greater than your aversion to talking to him.

From the corner of your eye, you see him looking surprised by your question before he leans in and answers. “Sunghoon Park and Chaewon Kim. They’re part of the dance people. Here to keep the guests happy and entertained.” He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in discontentment. “They shouldn’t be showing off with each other like that, it won’t sell lessons. I’ll need to have a talk with them later.”

You barely register Jay’s words after he’s answered your question, your attention focused back on the dancers in front of you. On the other side of the room, you spot Max frowning at them and marching towards them. As soon as Sunghoon and Chaewon notice him, he waves them off and they separate, choosing a guest as their new partner to dance with, which you assume is their way of doing a taster session.

Jay drags you off to sit at a table and for the better part of an hour, you let him bore your ears off as he tells you either things he can’t fathom you’d already know even though you do, or things you couldn’t care any less about. It’s such a shame that a man with that handsome a face and that charming a smile would have the stalest of personalities, yet deem himself the most interesting man to walk the Earth. You nod and hum when you’re supposed to, and that’s all he needs to think you’re listening intently, when really you can’t stop thinking about the dancers you just saw, and even steal glances at them still dancing with some guests mere meters away from you. All you want to do is get up and get Sunghoon’s, or even Chaewon’s attention so they could show you how to move like them - just touching their shoulder or waist would be thrilling. But when you catch your mother’s eye a few tables away and she beams at you, two thumbs up in the air, you know you need to stay planted in your chair.

Thankfully, the amount of guests in the room starts to dwindle, and you use this dip in the evening to run off, telling Jay it’s getting late and you need to get back to your bungalow. You don’t let him try to convince you to stay back, and grab your purse, excitedly waving goodbye at him. He’s probably confused, but you’re too giddy at the prospect of finally leaving to care. 

You were on your way to the bungalow, you really were - but just as you reach it, light from a tall lodge about five hundred meters away catches your attention, and you’re too curious about the building you hadn’t noticed before not to investigate. So you continue walking up the small hill where all the guest lodgings rest until you find yourself before a sign that reads “STAFF QUARTERS - GUESTS KEEP OUT,” which you promptly decide to ignore.

In just a minute, a wooden bridge reveals itself, enabling you to cross over the current that separates you from the other bank, where the lodge stands. If you looked to your right, you could’ve made out some more, smaller and dingier-looking bungalows than the guests’ that hosted the staff behind all those trees, but you run into a familiar face before you can take notice of them.

“Hey! I recognize you. Baby, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Jake!” you beam, surprised not only by seeing him again here, but by the three huge watermelons he carries in his arms like oversized newborn triplets. 

“Yeah…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you, his enthusiasm turning into suspicion. “You can’t be here. Max would kill me. Go back to the dance, Baby.” He can only take a few steps forward before you grab a watermelon from his unsteady hold, putting your most convincing smile on.

“I’ll help you carry these!” you state rather than offer, and march forwards across the bridge. Behind you, Jake sighs and shakes his head, then rushes to stop you in your tracks.

“Didn’t you read the sign? This area is staff only, you can’t be here,” he repeats, punctuating his words. He stays unwavering even at the receiving end of your very menacing glare, so you simply huff and stack the watermelon back on top of the other two and turn away. It takes him approximately two seconds to change his mind. “Can you keep a secret?”

Jake doesn’t prepare you for what you’re about to see when you enter the staff common lodge, but you don’t think anything could. The smell of a room full of people sweating and moving about hits you instantly, the heat it creates hanging heavy in the air. The breeze coming in through the open windows is practically useless in bringing the temperature down, but you aren’t curious to find out what it’d be like with the windows closed.

The music, a genre your father always bristles at when he hears it on the radio, is now blasting in your ears rather than whistling through the wind, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the volume and intensity of the bass and drums bouncing off the walls of the room. The guitar sound is sensual and almost yearning, the singer longs for his lover, and the tempo is just fast enough for the dancers to find a swaying rhythm.

As if the lyrics themselves aren’t enough to make you blush, the way the staff dances makes you feel like you’re intruding on something. You try to look away as a couple thrusts their hips into each other’s, only to find another lowering themselves to the group until they’re crouching then slowly rising again, using each other as support the whole time. Skirts bunched up around hips, shirts almost fully unbuttoned or even discarded, hands grabbing onto the partner’s clothes or bare skin - you’ve never seen anyone dance that way. Far from the choreographed performances you’re used to, here, they’re simply letting their bodies move to the music without any second thoughts or a care in the world. You hadn’t even known this could be considered dancing, but surely, when your body molds itself this perfectly to the melody and your partner’s hands, then you can only be dancing. 

Watermelon in arms, you follow Jake as he snakes his way to the back of the room through sweaty bodies holding each other close. You recognise a few people here and there as the entertainment staff who host activities, teach dance classes or help guests find their way around. They peer back at you, expressions either confused or disdainful - you aren’t sure whether that’s because they don’t know who you are, or because they do and don’t like seeing you there. Even if they don’t know that you’re Baby, your dress at least is a dead giveaway of your being a guest. Your mom had picked it out for you - a white sleeveless summer dress that reaches almost to your knees and cinches in at the waist before flowing out over your hips. And no cleavage, of course. Along with your impeccably curled and styled hair, your prim and proper attire is a far cry from the short skirts, tight t-shirts and denim that the staff wears, revealing sunkissed skin and toned muscles. And if all of that still isn’t enough to tell you apart, then your wide eyes like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time should do it.

You finally reach the back of the room and set your watermelon on a bar counter. Jake rests his hands on his hips and watches the dancers, a smile on his face, the kind of smile you wear when you can never get enough of a sight even though you witness it everyday. You watch them too, but you must look a mix of fascinated and terrified - sure, they all look terrific, but if your dad caught you here, you’d be dead.

“Where’d they learn to do that?” you lean in to ask Jake as the next song starts playing, your gaze not leaving the dancers who adjust easily to the more upbeat tempo.

He looks at you, stunned. “Don’t you know? This is how the kids dance these days. This is what American basements look like on Friday nights.” His surprise turns into amusement and he steps in front of you, one hand extended for you to take and a mischievous look on his face. “Wanna try?”

Your eyes immediately double in size and you shake your hands in front of you, but he grabs one of them anyway and starts leading you back into the middle of the room. You’re saved by the doors suddenly bursting open, catching everyone’s attention. In run Sunghoon and Chaewon, wearing the same clothes from earlier, although Sunghoon has ditched the suit jacket and popped the top buttons of his shirt open. Your stomach flips at the sight of his flushed cheeks and hair slick with sweat.

Jake chuckles when he sees how transfixed you are by the two of them, dancing so differently from earlier, their moves far more sexual, hands not so polite anymore, completely free to do whatever they wish. Rather than a smile, Sunghoon wears a small frown and bites his bottom lip, deepening his dimples, and it all seems to make each of his moves that much harsher. The sheer sex appeal that he exudes is absolutely undeniable, and it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before - things you’re not quite unsure how to name. You let out a small gasp as Chaewon jumps and hooks her legs around his hips effortlessly, then as she leans her upper body back until her head almost touches the ground. Sunghoon’s hands are tight around her waist and his biceps apparent under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You realize how strong Sunghoon must be when he carries her all the way to his shoulders, letting her rest her knees there as she plays with her skirt and swings her head from side to side. You’ve never seen anyone look so good while having so much fun.

“They look great together,” you blurt out without thinking.

“Don’t they?” Jake says, looking out at them with a fond smile. “You’d think they were a couple.”

This makes your head pivot towards Jake. “Well, aren’t they?”

“Not since we were kids, no. They’ve just been dancing together for so long that they’ve developed this- this chemistry and understanding of each other, I guess.” 

“Do you know them well?”

“Sunghoon’s my best friend from home. He met Chaewon when he started working here when we were 16, and then he got me this job when we were 17. The three of us are 22 now.” He meets your gaze and his smile grows wider. “Why, you interested?”

The sudden question (and the very obvious, very embarrassing answer) takes you aback and you stammer out a few nonsensical syllables before frowning at him. Your reaction just seems to amuse him. “No, I’m not. Just asking,” you manage to say.

He looks back at them, and you follow his gaze. “Well, good, cause we’re not allowed to get involved with the guests anyway. Which is why you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Just then, the song ends and Sunghoon and Chaewon laugh before they separate, finding another partner to dance with. As Chaewon heads towards someone else, Sunghoon catches your stare and walks to where you and Jake stand, eyes fixed on your face. You feel small under his gaze, but you will your knees not to buckle underneath you, although that’s hard to do when his eyes sweep your figure, giving you a once-over.

“What’s she doing here?” he questions Jake without looking away from you.

“That’s Baby, she came with me,” Jake says, not really answering the question.

“I carried a watermelon,” you blurt, not really answering the question either, but that seems to satisfy Sunghoon. His eyebrows raise slightly before he heads back to the dancefloor and starts dancing again. You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, but another one catches right in your throat when, after barely thirty seconds, he pivots back around as if there was still something he was curious about. His eyes stay focused on you, unreadable.

And then, he bows his head slightly, looks up at you through his eyebrows, raises his hand, and beckons you to him with his index finger. As if spellbound, your feet move on their own until you find yourself in front of him, his hands reaching immediately for your hips and holding on tight there. All the nerves in your body are on edge and your heartbeat speeds up, almost matching the fast tempo of the song resonating throughout the room. Simply remembering to breathe becomes an arduous task. Jake’s voice is a faint sound as he says, “So you go dance with him, but not me?”

This kind of dancing is completely unfamiliar to you, so you have no idea what to do. Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn’t seem to expect anything else, and he knows how to guide you so that you get the gist of it. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commands quietly, gesturing with two fingers for your gaze to stay on his. “And move your hips in a circle, just like that,” he adds, executing the move for you to mirror. “Just relax, you’re too stiff. Relax your arms. Put them around my shoulders.” His hands brush down from your shoulders to your wrists, sending a trail of fire all along your arms, grabbing them and resting them on his shoulders himself before settling back on your waist. His arm snakes its way around it, bringing you closer to him. You aren’t sure what’s more electrifying, his gaze or his touch.

You start to focus on the music and on getting your body to move along to it, and it feels like a miracle when your hips, firmly pressed against his own, sway side-to-side in rhythm. Remembering what you saw earlier, you lean back slightly, hips still moving in small circles, trusting him to keep you from falling. You lean back as far as you can, and something about it is so liberating, you feel the adrenaline rushing through your body as if it’s the only thing keeping you alive. When you come back up, your palms are flat against his chest and he looks at you with a proud but surprised smirk that lits your insides up. “Just like that,” he whispers, but his face is close enough for you to hear him over the music.

He spins you around a few times, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s already gone, having weaved his way through the crowd back towards Jake. It takes you a few seconds to register his absence, but when it does, it’s like all the warmth he filled you with is gone; you’re left only with the heavy heat weighing the room down and you with it, when you’d felt light like air not a moment ago.

Before you can decide on what to do next, someone taps your shoulder, and you turn around to find Heeseung frowning down at you. In the fraction of a second, you can tell this is the snarky Heeseung that you’d seen when you were snooping around the day before rather than the polite Heeseung that had waited your table that night.

“Baby, right? I don’t know what you’re doing here, but your sister and parents are looking all over for you. If I were you, I’d go now, and quick.”

Alarm shoots through you as you realize you’d been here for twenty minutes at least, the sort of absence that wouldn’t go unnoticed by your family this late at night. You thank him rapidly and practically run towards the door before risking a look back at Jake and Sunghoon, still standing in the corner of the room. Jake looks worried, so you send him a thumbs up, but Sunghoon simply peers at you, sipping on a beer as his back rests against the wall, that same unreadable look from before back on his face. You don’t linger to figure it out and rush to your bungalow, coming up with an excuse that you got lost on your way back for your parents to believe. Because their Baby would never do anything she isn’t supposed to, right?

That night, as you toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wanders off to those warm, big hands firmly planted on your waist, and how they had guided your body until it moved on its own accord, until it let itself go and only followed the rhythm. How far can you go until your body no longer belongs to you but rather to the music, or to the person holding you close, you wonder? And if that happened, would you, for a moment at least, no matter how fleeting, be freed of all your worries for your future and of all the pressure on your shoulders?

Your feet already ache - from dancing or from wanting to dance some more, you can’t quite tell.

-

Every year when August comes, it takes you by surprise how early the sun sets. Just as you’d gotten used to the sky still being fairly light by 10 p.m., it was already getting dark at nine. This is what you think about a few nights later as you look out at the dark sky, the bright full moon and the hundreds of stars lighting it up. You’re standing next to the gazebo with your parents as you watch other guests dancing about; clearly, since you’re thinking about the state of the sky and the sun in the summer, you’re very entertained. Your sister has managed to become friends with some of the other guests’ kids, as well as some of the staff, and has even formed a budding romance with Heeseung, which your parents have made it obvious they approve of. This means that she is excused of any activities she might not want to partake in, while you have to follow your parents everywhere.

Your gaze follows Sunghoon as he dances with an older woman, guiding her through the dance and teaching her a few steps. You can’t help but frown slightly at his forced smile when she lets her hands wander a bit too far down his back, and you wonder why he doesn’t say anything when he looks so obviously uncomfortable.

“You see that woman over there?” you hear Max ask your father as he motions to the lady dancing with Sunghoon. “Vivian Kim. We call women like her bungalow bunnies. Their husbands work all week and only come back on weekends. That dancer Park Sunghoon is pretty popular with them, if you know what I mean,” he comments with a dark chuckle. “But I gotta pretend like I don’t know any better, otherwise the wives are unhappy. And if the wives are unhappy, so are the husbands, and then I lose money.”

You daze out of the conversation when you see Jay approaching, his steps quick and headed directly towards Sunghoon. “Where’s Chaewon?” he questions impatiently, taking no notice of Vivian, who seems to take no notice of him either and continues swaying her hips to the music.

“What do you mean where’s Chaewon? She’s on a break, Chaewon needs a break,” Sunghoon bites back, tone just as harsh as Jay’s. That seems to shut Jay up, and he just squints at him before turning his head to where you’re standing. His whole demeanor changes instantly as he walks towards you, that smile one would reserve for children that he always looks at you with.

“Hey Baby, wanna go on a walk?” he asks, but with the intent way your parents, Max and Jay himself are peering down at you, you know you don’t have much of a choice.

You put on your best forced smile and take his extended hand. “Sure, Jay.”

He takes you to a small wooden bridge that overpasses a small but feisty current. The walk there is fairly silent, which you’re thankful for, because it’s easier to pretend Jay isn’t here when he’s not talking, but the fantasy is shattered everytime he sighs and hums contentedly. It’s like he thinks spending five minutes without talking will make the world implode, and he has to make some kind of noise to keep the balance.

When you reach the bridge, you lean back against the rail, and he leans on his side, apparently so he can look at you better. “I love to watch your hair blow in the breeze,” he says after a few moments, and it takes everything in you to keep your laughter in at the sudden romanticism.

“You know, not to brag,” he starts, and you know he’s about to say the most pretentious thing you’ve ever heard, “but around here, I’m known as the catch of the county.” He’s smiling, but you know he’s being fully serious. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m handsome, parents love me, and I go to the best school in the country. People ask me, ‘well, what’s the difference between you and any other guy at Yale,’ and I say, ‘five hotels and a million-dollar inheritance!’” He bursts laughing like he’s just made the funniest joke ever, although you’re not sure where the joke is. You chuckle awkwardly and nod, remembering your mother’s advice - when in doubt, just nod. You’re not particularly in doubt, but you’re also not sure how to respond to such ostentatious self-praise.

To your great despair, Jay is about to open his mouth again, but a voice coming from the exit of the forest near you stops him in his tracks. “Heeseung, please, you have to help me with this-,” the voice says, and you recognize it quickly as Chaewon’s.

“I told you, it’s none of my damn business.”

“But it is! Please!” she shouts back. He walks ahead of her and she tries to catch up to him, and just like that, they’re already gone without having noticed you or Jay.

A hand placed delicately on your shoulder snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to Jay who has a sad look in his eyes and who sighs as if pained to say what he has to say next. “You know, Baby, sometimes, in this world, you’ll see things you don’t want to see. And sometimes, you can’t do anything about them. It’s all part of growing up,” he finishes, his tone self-important like he’s just taught you a world of knowledge. 

“You hungry?” he suddenly adds, all cheery. “C’mon, eating something might take your mind off of this. We can go to the kitchens and get you anything you’d like.”

He indeed takes you to the restaurant kitchens, completely empty due to the late hour. He opens up a fridge, and even though he basically does, the way he acts like he owns the place makes you wince. “So, what have we here? Some smoked salmon canapés, some ham sandwiches… ooh, brownies! What else…” he trails off, but your attention has been caught by something else. 

You can hear someone snuffling somewhere in the room, and when you lean to the side to peer behind the wall, you can make out a female figure crouched down in the dark. She’s trembling from head-to-toe, and when she lifts her head to look at you, you recognize her as Chaewon. You’ve never seen anyone looking so scared.

Thinking quickly, you grab Jay by the shoulders, smiling at him as you say, “You know what, I don’t think I’m actually that hungry, let’s just head back to the gazebo, yeah?”

For once, you’re the one who doesn’t let him answer your question and you speed out of the kitchens and back to the gazebo. You find Jake immediately, rushing to him to tell him what you saw, and he in turn rushes to Sunghoon, who apologizes and drops his dancing partner’s hand as soon as he hears what’s going on. Ignoring Jay’s confused look, you run with them back to the kitchens, from which Chaewon hasn’t moved an inch.

Sunghoon sits next to her, taking her in his arms and helping her up. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here now. Everything’s fine. Let’s get you back to my room, okay? It’ll be quiet there,” he coos, getting her snuffles to calm down and her breath to steady itself.

Since none of them tell you to go back, you follow along, Chaewon in Sunghoon’s arms in front and you and Jake not too far behind. “What’s wrong with her?” you ask Jake quietly.

“She’s pregnant.”

“Jake!” Sunghoon calls out indignantly, sending him a look as if to warn him.

“What? It’s not like she’d tell anyone.”

“Still, it’s none of her business,” Sunghoon replies, glancing briefly at you.

“And what’s he gonna do about it?” you can’t help but ask. This makes Sunghoon pivot on his heel and Chaewon frowns at the sudden movement.

“‘What’s he gonna do about it?’” he repeats, venom in his voice. “Oh of course, cause it’s my baby. Of course you’d assume that,” he practically spits at you. You try to stutter out a response, but nothing comes up. How could you not assume that, when you’ve only seen him taking care of her like she’s his responsibility?

You thought all staff lived in small bungalows, but the place you reach is more like a one-person studio. Sunghoon sits Chaewon down on a couch, covers her shoulders with a blanket and brings her a tall glass of water.

“So, whose is it then?” you ask again, eyes darting back and forth between the three figures that stare back at you. Sunghoon starts towards you, an accusing finger out, but Chaewon stops him.

“It’s fine, Sunghoon.” She sighs then lifts her gaze to look at you. Her eyes seem drained, like her tears took everything out of her. “It’s Heeseung’s,” she answers plainly, and you think your eyes bulge out of your face. What you’d witnessed earlier starts to make more sense in your head.

Next to you, Jake looks like he’ll explode if he has to keep in the words he wants to say any longer. “That bastard Heeseung. She needs money to get an operation, and she needs it soon, but he doesn’t give a shit,” Jake spits.

“But, Heeseung, he’s got money, I’m sure if you just ask him, he’ll-”

“Baby? Is that your name?” Chaewon asks softly, interrupting you. “Well, you don’t know shit about my problems, Baby,” she continues, her tone doing a 180. “You don’t think I’ve asked him? You don’t think he knows?”

“But-”

“Go back to your playpen, Baby,” she dismisses you, a finality to her tone. Sunghoon just glares at you while Jake shrugs, so you decide there’s nothing you can do than leave, and head back to your bungalow, heart heavy, but determined to help Chaewon out. There has to be something you can do, you just know it.

-

The next day, you pretend to help Heeseung set the tables for the lunch service to have a talk with him. You waste no time starting your interrogation, not even greeting him before diving straight into it.

“I know about Chaewon, Heeseung. You need to help her out,” you say sternly, using a random water pitcher you’d found at the entrance to fill up crystal glasses.

“Well hello to you too, Baby,” he says with a sarcastically sweet tone. His fake smile drops when he sees you won’t play into his game. “I don’t need to do anything,” he scoffs. “Not like it’s any of your business anyway.”

“Haven’t you seen her? You can’t leave her alone in a time like this, she needs your help. Even if it’s mostly financial help. It’s the least you can do.”

“Girls like her, they get into trouble all the time, okay? Hey, watch what you’re doing!” he whisper-yells when water spills over one of the glasses, not wanting to rouse the suspicion of any of the diners around.

“Yeah, because of guys like you,” you bite back, but he ignores you.

“She was bound to get knocked up at some point, going around like that.” You follow as he moves on the next table. 

“So you’re not going to do anything? Just put her in a bad situation and then run away?”

He finally turns to face you, looking at you like he’s exasperated, like you’re the bad guy here. “That girl’s not my problem, okay? She brought this upon herself.”

You take a step closer to him, a fakely sweet smile plastered on your lips. “You’re a jerk, Heeseung. You stay away from me, stay away from my sister, or I’ll have you fired.” You then raise the jug of water up to his chest, and keep that same smile as you pour it on him before marching away, ignoring the gasps that echo all around the room and Heeseung as he yells at you to come back.

-

Your mom is struggling to get the ball in when you find your parents on one of the many golf courses. Your dad smiles as he sees you nearing them, asking you if everything’s alright.

“Daddy.”

“Baby?” he answers, looking amused by your seriousness.

“You know how you say I should always do my best to help out others when they need it?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve got friends who need some help.”

“What kind of help?” he asks, slightly frowning as he realizes you’re not being serious for no reason.

You take a big breath in. “Money.” You don’t like asking your dad for money, but it’s the only solution you’ve come up with.

“And just how much money?”

“Three hundred dollars?” you say, your sentence coming out like a question as you slightly wince in apprehension.

Your father sighs. “That’s a serious amount of money, Baby. This isn’t anything illegal, is it?” he adds after a beat, taking you aback. Is this illegal? If it is, your father doesn’t need to know it.

“No, no, of course not, Daddy,” you say, trying your best at a reassuring smile. It seems to work, because his expression softens and he smiles back.

“Of course not,” he repeats, “I should know that.” He takes you in his arms. “I’ll have the money ready for you tonight.” You hug him back, thanking him before skipping away to whatever activity you might find to distract yourself before the evening.

-

After dinner, when your dad’s given you an envelope filled with cash, you throw a quick excuse your parents’ way before rushing to the staff quarters, making sure no one sees you on your way there. The music emanating from the common room makes you hopeful you’ll find the people you’re looking for.

And indeed, you do - Sunghoon and Chaewon are holding each other close, her head resting on his chest, and swaying together to the slow and sensual rhythm of the music at the back of the room when you find them. You feel a ping of something uncomfortable in your heart but ignore it and head straight towards them. Chaewon turns around when you tap on her shoulder, her and Sunghoon both looking at you with unmasked animosity, but you just smile as you hand her the envelope. Jake notices you and walks over to stand next to his cousin.

“Here you go. I hope it’s enough,” you say, relieved to see her surprised but ecstatic expression when she opens the envelope and sees all the bills in there. Jake wears a similar expression but Sunghoon just leers down at you.

“Oh my God, Baby, this is amazing,” Chaewon exclaims in disbelief. “How did you get Heeseung to change his mind?”

You purse your lips. “It wasn’t Heeseung…”

She frowns slightly but her eyes widen at the realization that if it isn’t from Heeseung, it has to be from you. “Oh, Baby, thank you so much,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, takes a real saint to ask daddy,” Sunghoon says sarcastically. Chaewon’s head snaps towards you and she starts to shake her head, forcing the envelope back into your hands.

“I can’t accept it, then.”

“Why not?” you, Sunghoon and Jake blurt at the same time.

“Who cares where it comes from? You need the money,” Sunghoon says, trying to persuade her, but she just continues to shake her head.

“It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t go to the appointment anyway,” she chuckles defeatedly, and Sunghoon looks at Jake in confusion.

“I can only get her an appointment next Thursday, when you guys have your act at the Sheldrake,” he explains guiltily, as if it’s his fault.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sunghoon breathes out, looking up to the ceiling in despair, hands on his hips.

“Can’t you miss just that one night?” you ask innocently, but apparently it is the stupidest question on earth, judging from the harsh glare Sunghoon fixes you with.

“No, we can’t miss just that one night. This is our job, and if we cancel the Sheldrake, not only do we lose this summer’s salary, but also next summer’s gig. Our livelihoods depend on this,” he hisses.

“So… can’t someone fill in?” you ask again, and wince when he raises his tone.

“No, Little Miss Fix-It, someone can’t fill in. Everybody works here, unlike you. Unless you wanna do it,” he adds after a pause, chuckling sarcastically, “take some time off of Simon Says?”

You can only glare back at him, even though you couldn’t look as condescending as him if you tried. You’re just trying to help them out and find solutions, no need to be so rude about it. Jake looks back and forth between the two of you, a look on his face like he’s thinking things over.

“You know, maybe she could do it. You weren’t so bad last time, were you, Baby?” he says, eyebrows raised at you as he waits for your answer, a hopeful look on his face that makes you feel bad for letting him down.

You shake your head fervently - learning a complicated choreography and performing it in front of an audience is unthinkable to you. “No, no, I can’t even do the merengue.”

“C’mon!” he insists.

“You heard her, Jake, she can’t even do the merengue,” he repeats, adding venom to the words.

Chaewon doesn’t seem to think this is such a bad idea either. “But Sunghoon, you could teach anyone to dance, you’re an amazing leader,” she says eagerly, but Sunghoon just rolls his eyes and sighs.

“The act is in a week, even if I was the best teacher in the world, she couldn’t learn the whole routine in that time. It’s a lost cause,” he sneers, his gaze fixated harshly on you. You’re not sure whether the lost cause refers to the situation or to you.

You squint your eyes at him, trying to match his gaze. It’s one thing that you think it’s a bad idea, but it’s a whole other thing now that he’s so against it. Jake’s right - you weren’t that bad last week, you’re sure you could be an okay replacement. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you as if in challenge.

Challenge accepted, you think.

-

“Now it’s one, two, three, four,” Sunghoon says, synchronizing each number to the beat of the music. “You don’t dance ‘til the two.” This is probably the fifth time he tells you this in the past half-hour, and although you know what you’re meant to do, your body will simply not listen to your head.

You’re in the dance studio, trying as hard as you can to get your body to shape itself into what Sunghoon wants it to be. Arms up at shoulder-level, core engaged, back straight, head proud. He may repeat those directions over and over again, you aren’t used to holding yourself like that, and it’s a lot harder than it seems, even though he makes it look so natural.

He moves the tonearm of the record player so that the music starts from the beginning again and walks towards you, his stern gaze never leaving your eyes as if to say, “you better not mess it up this time.” It makes the room feel a lot hotter than it actually is, and the strong summer heat coming in from the open windows doesn’t help.

You can’t help but wonder if Sunghoon is this impatient with all of his students - surely he’d be out of a job if he actually behaved like this with the fancy ladies of the resort, so he must have some kind of problem with you. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that he isn’t the fondest of you, anyway. The fact that you’re only doing this to help him out and not for your own pleasure seems lost on him, but you’d rather not aggravate the situation by pointing that out.

His hands firmly holding yours, his gaze still fixed on your face, you hear your cue approaching and tell yourself “on the two, on the two, on the two,” but it’s no use, your foot starts to move a beat too early. But this time, Sunghoon anticipates your movement and says, softer than you expect ‘no,’ and you put your foot back down instead of stepping on his like countless times before. Then he instructs ‘now’, and you finally get it right, getting into the flow of the music properly. You repeat this process a few more times, and only take a break when he’s sure you won’t make mistakes anymore.

You’re halfway through a one-liter bottle of water when you hear him say, “Finally got the basic footwork down, only took an hour.” You scoff at the snarky remark and are about to come back at him with something just as petty, but you notice the shadow of a smile on his lips, more playful than patronizing, so you bite it back and try to suppress a smile of your own. With Sunghoon, you’ll take what you can get.

He doesn’t give you more than another minute of break, ignoring your complaints and urging you back towards him in the center of the room. “Let’s move on to the second part.”

You only have a week to get ready, so you practice like crazy, Sunghoon trying to reduce his working hours as much as possible and you slipping away from your parents and sister whenever you can. You go over the steps on your own, taking any opportunity to do so, whether that’s when you find yourself alone in your family’s rental or as you walk back across the bridge and lawn to the main grounds, letting your body move to the music in your head.

When she can make it, Chaewon also comes to practice with you. Her presence is always helpful - she sometimes stands behind you, holding you by the hips and correcting your posture, sometimes replaces either you or Sunghoon so you can watch her and mirror her moves from different perspectives. 

Although she was originally wary and dismissive of you, when she saw how intent you were on helping her, a complete stranger, out, her view of you completely changed. You can tell how thankful she is by the constant kindness she shows you, encouraging you to compensate for Sunghoon’s lack of praise.

Indeed, all three of you are surprised and happy to see how quickly you’re progressing, but Sunghoon has a knack for keeping his emotions behind a veil and his praises to a minimum. Sure, that means his compliments, his small ‘you did well today’ or ‘good job’ make you blush a little redder, but you wouldn’t complain if they were more frequent, either.

What he can’t hide from you, however, is that he is clearly starting to become more tolerant of your presence. You’d like to say you knew all along that he would soften up eventually, but truth is, you were scared he was going to stay this cold for the length of your time together, so it comes as even more of a relief when he stops reprimanding you so harshly for small mistakes or when he smiles along with you as you celebrate getting through a big chunk of the routine flawlessly for the first time. When one day, he actually laughs with you instead of berating you, you almost explode in on yourself out of joy. You convince yourself that those butterflies you feel erupting in your stomach is because it’s so surprising to see someone usually so guarded letting himself go a bit more, that it isn’t just the simple sound of his laughter making you feel lightheaded.

On the fourth day of practice, you manage to find enough time to practice for almost three hours in a row. Towards the end of the session, after feeling like you were about to pass out due to extortion, you have a strange surge of energy. Sunghoon, on the other hand, has almost exhausted his very impressive stamina, but still wants to go through what you’ve learned up until now.

The music starts, and you don’t know if it was this surge of energy, or if it was Sunghoon’s tired expression that made you want to tease him, but you decide it’d be funny to repeat back to him the directions he always gives you - you know them by heart at this point. 

“Hey! Head up,” you joke as you face each other again after a spin. “Lock your frame. Wiggly arms!” You’re happy to see he laughs along with you, shaking his head in amused disbelief at you.

The laughter immediately halts, however, when at the end of the routine, because of your lack of concentration, your foot slips and you find yourself much closer to him than necessary for the ending pose. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your cheeks immediately burn up. After a long moment, Sunghoon looks away, clearing his throat, and you take a big step back from him as if being any nearer might make you spontaneously combust.

“That was, um, that was good today. Good job,” he says quickly, then rushes to grab his stuff and leave the room. Forget the proximity the two of you were just in - was that a flustered Sunghoon you got to see? And was it because of you? It’s almost unfathomable that you could render him shy like that, but a small smirk plays on your lips at the idea of it.

Over the week, you start reaching for the thin tank tops and shorts you own, and steal some of Seeun’s lipgloss and mascara. If Sunghoon notices it, he doesn’t say anything. But perhaps, you’re the one who hasn’t noticed the way he glances at you in the mirror when you take a break or practice on your own, how he can’t help raking his eyes over your body when you aren’t looking, unable to reign his curiosity in. That you might want to get some kind of a reaction out of him doesn’t even cross his mind - because no matter how attractive he may be, he can’t imagine that a serious, educated girl like you with big plans for the future might be interested in a guy like him.

So even if his iciness thaws a bit, he doesn’t let it show that having you around messes with his head, and stays a stern instructor who wants you to get the routine down to a T. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes,” he always says. But there’s something about the way he delivers his instructions sometimes that makes it impossible for you to concentrate on the dance. He’s always either dancing with you, your bodies just a foot apart, or sitting on the floor close to you and watching you, so he doesn’t need to speak so loud for you to hear him. It’s this quietness mixed with the strictness of his tone that makes your insides completely melt. Soft yet rigid, intimate yet steely. 

“Don’t put your heel down, stay on your toes.” 

“Keep your eyes focused on me, especially when you’re spinning.” 

“Always keep your core and your head straight.” 

Words that have no double-meaning whatsoever, yet it doesn’t take long for you to start wondering if he keeps this tone everywhere. Whenever those thoughts cross your mind, you’re practically unable to look him in the eye and speak without stammering. He makes you dizzier than the spins you practice.

It’s on the fifth day that you realize how deep your infatuation with Sunghoon truly is. The routine isn’t exceptionally long, so after five days of practicing, you have all the steps down, except for the lifts which he keeps putting off for later. He watches you do it on your own, and although he admits you know it in and out, he said there’s still something missing. The pang of disappointment you feel at his words soon turns into anticipation as he comes to stand in front of you, closer than usual, and brings your hand to his chest, keeping both of his own over yours.

“Feel this?” he says, voice almost a whisper. By now, you’ve gotten used to the intensity with which he always stares at you, but this time seems different; there’s something more vulnerable, more intimate about his gaze, something you don’t quite understand. You just stare right back at him, unable to look away.

You aren’t sure what he means so you lightly shake your head no. “Here,” he insists, pressing your hand more firmly to his chest, and it clicks. He wants you to feel his heartbeat. Your eyebrows jump slightly, and his lips form a small smile at your realization. “Close your eyes.” he says softly, and you do as told. 

“The steps aren’t enough, Baby. You have to feel the music. It’s within you, it’s within me, it’s within all of us. You just gotta find it.” This was something you’d heard a lot of times before, said by singers on the radio, by some of your friends in the high school choir - that they felt the music. But you’d never quite understood what they meant until now, until Sunghoon showed you. With two fingers, he starts tapping against the back of your hand to the rhythmic beat of his heart. 

“Du-dum, du-dum. Feel it now?” he asks, and you nod, too transfixed to produce actual words. His smile widens, and your heart swells because of his expression, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen it. 

“Now dance.”

Your body moves as if of its own accord, the moves now ingrained in your muscles and coming as a reflex to you. Together, you go through the whole routine with no music. You hadn’t needed to check yourself in the mirror to know you did perfectly - the smile on Sunghoon’s face tells you enough.

When the evening rolls around, there’s a lightness to your demeanor that both confuses and delights your parents, but even if they asked you to explain what happened, you don’t think you’d be able to find the words to do so.

-

Sure, Sunghoon doesn’t look at you like he hates you with every fiber of his being anymore, and he even dares crack a smile or laugh once in a while, but it’s not like you’re the best of friends either. There are still moments when he gets frustrated with you - one of those being the time you practice the opening of the routine. He hadn’t yet taught you that part, but as soon as he showed it to you, you understood why.

You stand back to him, heads turned towards each other. Your heights match perfectly so that, when standing so close together, his lips are right in your eyeline. His beautiful, plump, kissable lips that you find yourself thinking about too many times.

Your left arm stays by your side but your right arm is raised so that he can trail his fingertips all the way from your hand down to your waist - a sensual move that, despite setting the tone for the routine, you are not at all ready to perform. Not because it requires any kind of complex technique or years of practice, far from that, but because you don’t yet have the professionalism that Sunghoon, Chaewon and other performers like them have. Nevermind his fingers brushing past your armpit, which is obviously a ticklish place, you can’t handle the seriousness that comes with such intimacy, nor can you resist the urge to laugh every time. This, of course, does not please Sunghoon.

The first couple times it happens, he just rolls his eyes and sighs, thinking you just need to get your head in the dance and then you’d be fine. So he gets back into position, again, again, and again, and even though your full-blown laughters turn into quieter snorts or chuckles, you still can’t find it in you to keep a straight face. 

After the sixth time, his patience runs out. You can tell he wants to blow up at you by the redness of his face and the iciness of his stare, but when he speaks, he doesn’t raise his voice - his tone is so harsh that there’s no need for it. 

“You pull yourself together, or we’re done here.”

Whether he means you’re done for the day, or completely done with the practice, meaning all your efforts this week go to waste and you don’t perform on Saturday, you aren’t sure, but you don’t think this is the right time to question him. You get back into position, and finally, on the seventh try, you don’t laugh. After so many times, his touch doesn’t tickle so much - rather, it burns. Now, instead of resisting laughter, you have to keep yourself from completely melting under his touch.

But then, you realize that this is what you’ve been daydreaming about this whole time - to have him close, to have him touch you. Even though this was still part of the routine, the point of this move was to show the chemistry between the two dancers, the attraction they needed to, or at least pretend to, have for each other to take the performance from good to mesmerizing. Good thing you didn’t need to pretend.

Of course, Sunghoon has touched your waist and shoulders thousands of times by now, but after so many days together, you start to crave a different kind of touch, and in different places. You never let yourself relish too much in the warmth of his palms for fear of getting too used to it, and, worse than anything, missing it when he’s gone - as if that wasn’t already the case. But with this opening move, you can finally let yourself melt under his touch and play it off as being really into the dance. If anything, he’d probably be glad you’re letting your reserves go.

And so you do. Eyes closed, head tilted towards him and slightly back, revealing more of your neck, you feel his fingertips brush along your side until they reach your hand, and you start dancing. For the two minutes of the routine, you aren’t even thinking of the steps anymore, only looking into his eyes and letting your muscle memory do the work for you.

At the end, you stay in the final pose for a few seconds longer than usual, looking into each other’s eyes. Sunghoon isn’t the most expressive person ever, so you’d quickly learned how to decipher the slightest changes in his face. In this moment, he looks at you like he sees you for the first time, really sees you, with something like pride in his eyes. You smile at each other, and his next words make your heart skip a beat in surprise at first, then swell in satisfaction.

“I think that was the best you’ve danced so far. If you do it like this on Saturday night, it’ll be perfect.”

-

However, there’s one last thing you needed to learn: lifts. Sunghoon has been putting them off almost the whole week, saying you’d get to them later, that you needed to get the other steps down before. There are two in the routine, and whenever one comes up, Sunghoon says “that’s for later,” and keeps going with the dance. Except later never comes, and soon enough, you only have a day left to learn and perfect those lifts. The stress of not mastering them on time starts to get to your head, and your stress must be contagious, because Sunghoon explodes for the first (and only) time on Friday afternoon when you make a mistake in the basic steps.

“Are you kidding me?” he suddenly yells, taking a wide step back away from you and looking at you with uncharacteristic anger. Sure, he wasn’t always the most pleasant with you, and you were no stranger to Sunghoon’s expressions of or dislike, but you hadn’t seen anger on him until now. No matter how beautiful he is, you have to admit this isn’t his best look.

“What?” you respond, voice at the same level as his, not understanding his sudden burst of impatience.

“What?! This is a basic step you shouldn’t even be thinking about anymore, let alone not get right. The performance is tomorrow, you can’t be making stupid mistakes now!” He sighs in frustration and tears his gaze away from you for a moment, then looks back, his eyes hard. “Is this your idea of fun?”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “My idea of fun? You really think I’m doing this for fun?” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at you. “I’ve been breaking my back and sneaking around for almost a whole week just to save your ass, I don’t get anything out of it, and you have the nerve to ask me if I’m doing this for fun?” You can see he wants to say something, but you don’t let him. “Oh, and I’m glad you seem to remember the performance is tomorrow, because I’ll have you know you still haven’t taught me those damn lifts! How can you get mad at me for a small mistake when you won’t even teach me the whole routine?!”

You’re out of breath after screaming so loud and so quickly, but still Sunghoon doesn’t move for a few seconds, until suddenly, he pivots and walks towards the door. At the threshold, he turns to you and tells you to follow him, as if that should have been obvious. He doesn’t give you any time for questions so you run after him. Outside, a heavy summer rain is coming down, and your clothes are soaked through after just ten seconds. You walk a few steps behind him as he heads to his car, muttering a curse under his breath when he realizes he’s forgotten his keys inside the locked vehicle. You let out a small shriek when he breaks one of the backseat windows to open the door from inside, reaching for his keys still resting in the ignition. You just stand there, watching him in confusion, until he calls to you from the driver’s seat. “C’mon! There’s a place I need to show you.”

You know it’s a bad idea - you’ve already been gone for over an hour, and if you leave with him for God knows how much longer, your parents would start to wonder where you are. But there’s something about his face, his anger that had completely disappeared and let way for what seemed like excitement, the rain pouring down and the loud sound of his car’s motor; it all creates a rush of adrenaline in you, and you want to know what he has in store. So you get in the car, and as soon as you’re buckled in, Sunghoon backs out of the parking lot and starts driving, the destination completely unknown to you, but you trust him enough to not be bothered by that.

The two of you drive for around ten minutes in comfortable silence, sometimes catching the other’s eye in the rearview mirror and bursting into giggles. You don’t know why, but when you open your window and let your arm out, letting out a big whoop, he laughs like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.

In the week you spend together with Sunghoon, these are the moments you love the most. When he’s seemingly let go of his barriers and lets you see a side of him that you don’t think many people get access to, a side to which laughter comes easy. Although it gives you whiplash when he so suddenly goes back to his serious and stonelike nature, you’d rather get glimpses of his carefree self than forever be stuck with the face he usually puts on with you. You aren’t sure if he is always one or the other with other people, or if he keeps his tendency to almost switch personalities with everyone, but you’re just glad it doesn’t feel like he’d always prefer to be somewhere else than with you anymore - and that it almost feels like he enjoys, or at the very least tolerates spending time in your company now.

He parks in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, on a small patch of gravel between the road and a forest, right before a bridge that crosses over a current. He gets out and starts towards what looks like a forest, telling you good-humoredly to hurry up and follow him. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle, gentle as it falls on your shoulders and a refreshing break from the sweltering heat of the past few days. Faster than you expected, you’ve reached your destination, which is a point where the current is calm and a wide trunk tree crosses it. You have no idea how Sunghoon ever found this place, but you’ve never seen him wear such an ecstatic expression, so you don’t even question it.

He takes his shoes off and gets on the tree trunk, spreading his arms wide to keep himself from falling. You sit down, one leg on each side of the trunk, and watch amusedly as he titters and regains his balance, sending sheepish smiles your way when he gets close to plummeting into the water. 

“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask suddenly, the question forming in your head and leaving your lips simultaneously.

He considers you for a second, then plops himself down on the trunk, letting his legs sway over the emptiness. He looks out to the current when he speaks, as if talking to the air around him rather than directly to you. “I lived and went to school in a low-income neighborhood, so there were always these people coming and going, trying to get kids like us to start working and get out of the neighborhood, or make it better or something. One day these people came in, saying they were giving out lessons to become a dance instructor, and it was the only one that ever caught my interest. I did it, aced the test, and they gave me a spot here that I managed to keep every summer. Haven’t wanted to do anything else since.” He looks back at you and you catch a glimpse of cautiousness, perhaps a fear of finding judgment in your eyes, but his expression turns friendly again when he finds only curiosity and sympathy there.

“What about the rest of the year? Do you also have a teaching job back home?” you ask, daring to go further in your interrogation of Sunghoon’s personal life. Just a few days ago, you’d never have dreamed of asking him something like this, but there’s something about him today that makes you think it’s okay to get closer, if you tread lightly.

He snickers humorlessly and looks down at his hands, palms resting on the trunk in front of him. “I’m lucky I get to escape that place just three months a year when I’m working here. Otherwise, I’m stuck with the old man and his carpenting business I’m fated to inherit when he retires.” Before you can say anything in response, he jumps back up on his feet and holds a hand out to you, making a motion for you to come to him. You’re slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in his demeanor, but you know better than to force anything with Sunghoon. “We didn’t come here to chit-chat, did we? Come over here.”

Devilish - there’s no other word to describe his expression at that moment.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not getting on there, I’m gonna fall and break an ankle,” you immediately protest, but he doesn’t need to say anything, just approaches you with a mischievous smile and reaches his hands out to you - and you take them, letting him bring you to your feet.

You climb up tentatively, glad to see the trunk isn’t slippery even after the rain, and hold on tight to Sunghoon’s hands until you’ve managed to find your own balance. “Okay, what now?” you say breathily, half-paralyzed in terror and half-pumped with adrenaline.

“Let’s dance,” he says, a playful smile teasing his lips.

“What, here?” you reply, looking at him like he suggested you rob a bank.

“Yes, here.” He grabs your hand tighter and brings you closer to him, securing an arm around your waist before you can stumble off of the trunk. It’s definitely your near-death experience and not his proximity that makes your heart beat faster, definitely.

He quietly hums the song, but you’ve heard it so many times at this point that you could do the dance with no music at all. More than dancing the same steps, there’s something electrifying about knowing that the same song is playing in your and Sunghoon’s heads right now. You wonder if he feels it playing in his heart too.

What you’re doing isn’t quite dancing - you’re just taking small, careful, clumsy steps together, giggling as you try to stay atop the trunk and letting out a yelp when he attempts to spin you but it only results in you two almost falling off. He holds you close as if making sure that if one of you goes down, the other goes down with them. Your face is right in front of his chest, and when you risk a look up at him, he’s already gazing down at you, his playfulness making the light in his eyes shine even brighter. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes drift down to your lips, moving as you talk, but you still manage to get the words out, whispering them in the small space between the two of you. “You’re supposed to teach me lifts, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he whispers back, but makes no move to leave the trunk or distance himself from you.

“Okay,” you breathe. You repeat the word and take a step back, somehow gathering the will to tear yourself away from him, from his eyes fixated on your parted lips. “Let’s go.”

He leads you back through the woods to a wide clearing. After the downpour of the early afternoon, the sun is starting to shine again, rays of light making their way through the grayish clouds and high pines, and bathing your surroundings in a comforting glow. Sunghoon stands facing the sun, and the sunlight hits his face so perfectly, you have to keep yourself from snorting at how ridiculously handsome he is.

The only instructions he gives you are as follows: “You’ve seen lifts before. You know you just run to me to gather momentum, then when you’re close enough, bend your knees and keep your core and whole body tight as I lift you. But the most important thing is that you trust me, alright? If you don’t, we could both get hurt.”

The first few times, you just practice the running and the picking up, not wanting to venture into the actual overhead lift right away. It’s easy enough - just find the right distance, the right speed, and remember not to let your body go limp in Sunghoon’s hands.

But when you’ve gotten the hang of it, and Sunghoon tells you to try the complete lift, you freeze. You just stop right in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes. “This is too scary, I can’t do it.”

To your surprise, instead of letting out an annoyed sigh or rolling his eyes, Sunghoon smiles. His eyes go soft and the corners of his lips tug up.

“What’s scary?”

“Falling. Getting hurt, hurting you,” you say, looking into his eyes with the hope that he’ll make all your anxieties go away.

“Don’t think about those things. Don’t think about anything, just trust me. Let yourself be picked up first, and then we’ll worry about your form and how to keep it, okay?”

“O-okay.” You walk a few steps back to regain some distance, and he nods reassuringly as you take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. You run to him, and as if his words had gone straight from his mouth to your limbs, you let him lift you - and the world looks so different from this high up.

You marvel at the feeling of floating in the air, but you quickly start to feel yourself slipping forward, and Sunghoon is yelling “Hold it, hold it!” and before you know it, you’ve dipped forward and fallen right on top of him. Thankfully, it was a slow fall, and he had time to soften the blow, so that the immediate reaction from the both of you is to burst into laughter.

You roll over so that you’re laying on your back next to him and rest your palms on your stomach, feeling it shake with laughter. Once you’ve calmed down, you turn your head towards him and he imitates you a second later. You probably look like idiots, out-of-breath and smiling widely at each other in this field, but there isn’t a thing you would change about this moment.

“Do you know what the best place to practice lifts is?” he asks, and you watch how his dimples disappear and reappear as he talks. You shake your head. His dimples deepen. “The water.”

You change locations again, heading back towards the current and finding the lake it stems from. You and Sunghoon turn your backs to each other as he takes his t-shirt off and you, your denim shorts, not wanting them to weigh you down in the water. When you turn back around, you have to force yourself to detach your eyes from his perfectly defined abs and shoulders thanks to years of dancing and physical exertion almost every day. You stare out at the lake like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen so much water, otherwise you’d be gawking at him like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man. Your cheeks burn up when you feel his eyes on your legs, taking your half-naked figure in, and he chuckles as you rush to hide yourself in the water.

Once in the water, you practice the actual lift, which consists of Sunghoon hoisting you high above his head and you keeping a straight posture, with your arms perpendicular to your body and your chest slightly lifted as if you were truly soaring through the air. It already looks difficult, and yet it’s even harder than it looks. It does help being in the water because at least you’re not scared for your life when you lose your balance and dive forward, but you let out a yelp nonetheless each time it happens. Sunghoon keeps on telling you to hold your posture, but each attempt ends in you falling into the water and bringing him down with you.

You drift apart and swim back towards each other every time, your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands coming to your hips to get back into position for the lift. You’re having a lot of fun, too much fun, probably, when the performance is just a day away - but getting to see Sunghoon’s smile and hear his laugh as you play around and try your best at the lift makes it worth it. When the strap of your tank top slips over your shoulder, you notice out of the corner of your eye Sunghoon’s hand reaching for it just as you put it back yourself. He plays it off by raking a hand through his wet hair, getting it out of his eyes, and smiles shyly at you when your gazes lock. You have no idea what’s going to happen after the performance, if you’ll stay friends or if he’ll pretend like this never even happened - all you know is that you’d be happy doing this all summer.

“One last time?”

-

And just like that, it’s late Saturday afternoon and the performance is just an hour away. You barely eat or speak during dinner, partly out of nervousness, but mostly because you want your lie of having a headache and needing to rest in your room more believable. Chaewon had said she’d help you put your dress on and get ready before the show, so when you’ve escaped the dinner table, you rush to her cabin.

But just as you exit the building, an old woman you recognize as Mrs Jung walks in. She must be surprised at your sudden appearance because she slightly bumps into the door and drops her bag. An unusual amount of wallets fall from it, but you don’t think too much of it - you’ve seen rich people do weirder things. 

You bend down to help her gather her things, and she chuckles lightly, thanking you. “Such a sweet girl, isn’t she, Harold?” she says to her husband who had appeared behind the door as well. You wish them a nice evening and part ways, gushing to yourself over how cute old couples are as you head to the Chaewon’s cabin.

She does your hair, pulling it into a tight bun and securing every stray strand with a bobby pin. You have no experience with makeup since it’s always been off-limits in your house, so she expertly applies eyeshadow, mascara and lipstick to your face. The sticky feel of it is unfamiliar but once you look in the mirror, you almost can’t look away. It’s still you, of course it is, but the bright colors make you look glamorous, like performing in front of a large crowd is just routine for you. You thank Chaewon, a huge smile on her face, and watch her own light up in relief that you like the makeup.

As she zips your dress up, a flowy baby pink dress she got out of her closet just for you, you repeat back all the instructions Sunghoon has given you over the week to make sure you remember everything. “I just gotta keep my head up, keep my core and my arms straight, follow the mu-”

“Thank you, Baby,” Chaewon quietly interrupts, and the slight tremble in her voice and the vulnerability with which she looks at you lets you know she really means it. You stop your declamation immediately and smile at her, kindness in your eyes.

She looks down and tries to find her words. “You know, I- I just want you to know that I, I don’t sleep around, and Heeseung, I really thought he loved me, and-”

You can see the tears already forming in her eyes so you bring her into a tight hug, resting your cheek against the side of her head. “I know, Chaewon, don’t worry. And even if you did sleep around, it wouldn’t matter, Heeseung should take responsibility no matter what. We’re all here to help you. Don’t worry.” You lean back to hold her face in your hands and try to give as reassuring a smile as you can.

“I’m scared, Baby,” she whispers, trying to calm her sobs to get the words out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Chaewon,” you say, and you hope she believes it as much as you do. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. You’ve got Sunghoon, and Jake, and you’ve got me too.” 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. When she opens them again, she grabs your hands and shakes them between the two of you, mirroring your smile. “Okay, okay,” she murmurs. “Sorry, this isn’t the best time for me to break down. You feeling ready?” she asks, and even if it’s just for now, you’re glad she’s feeling better and got to let her emotions out.

“Not at all, I’m so nervous. I don’t want to mess something up and let you or Sunghoon down,” you admit, your smile wavering for a second.

“Whatever happens, you won’t let us down,” she says, squeezing your hands. “It’s amazing, what you’re doing.” 

You can’t help but look away at her words. “It’s the least I can do,” you mumble.

“No, Baby, you’re doing more than most people would. And Sunghoon, he might have his own way of showing it, but he’s extremely grateful for you,” she says, and it puts a smile on your face.

“By his own way of showing it, do you mean not showing it at all?” you joke.

“That’s Sunghoon for you.” You giggle quietly together, but her eyes drift to the clock on the wall behind you and she lets out a sigh. “It’s time, Baby. And don’t worry, I know you’ll do amazing,” she says, bringing you into a brief hug.

You’re so nervous, everything that follows is a blur - leaving Chaewon’s cabin and sneaking over to Sunghoon’s car, the drive to the Sheldrake Hotel, the staff there leading you backstage, and finding your spot on the stage. You only snap out of it when the curtains lift and a voice booms from the speakers in the room, announcing “Sunghoon Park and partner dancing the mambo” as the audience breaks into polite claps.

The music starts, and Sunghoon can immediately feel the tension in your body. He trails his fingers all the way down your arm to your waist, just like you’d practiced a ton of times before, and he uses the proximity between the two of you to whisper “Relax” into your ear. “Just follow my lead, you’ve got this,” he says, loud enough for only you to hear, and extends his arm to send you spinning. 

You manage the first few steps, trying to let go of your anxiety, but it’s got a tight grip on your body and makes your stomach twist. You think it’s all over when you mess up a turn, going right instead of left, but Sunghoon’s quick to whisper “over here” and you find your way again. “Look at me,” Sunghoon says once you’re facing each other again, and you lock eyes with him. And for some reason, that works - focusing only on him makes you feel like it’s just the two of you in the room, just like so many times this past week, and it dissipates all your nerves, makes your muscle memory kick in. You finally let him lead you and follow the music, thinking of nothing but Sunghoon and dancing together.

And yet, when it’s time for the lift, you freeze again. You find your position and run to Sunghoon, just like you know you’re supposed to, but you can’t let him lift you, your limbs turning into lead in his hold. Thinking quickly, you come up with another step on the spot, hoping it isn’t too obvious to the audience you just messed up. Sunghoon takes the lead again, and the rest of the performance goes smoothly, the other moves and the smaller, easier lift realized perfectly by the both of you.

You finish off the number, and the sound of the applause directed at the two of you fills you with a pride you’d never felt before, a feeling much more satisfying than any good grade or won argument ever had. Another sort of daze fills your mind now, and it makes you feel like there’s a small cloud under your feet so that you’re floating instead of walking everywhere. It almost makes you miss the Jungs, but when you see the old couple slowly walking out of the room, you’re scared you might be done for.

You rush back to the parking lot with Sunghoon, whooping in excitement as soon as you're out of anyone’s earshot. In the backseat, you change out of your dress and back into your regular clothes.

“God, that was- that was amazing, I can’t believe you get to live this every week during the summer, it was just- my God…” you say, struggling to get your right hand through the sleeve of your blouse.

“Yeah? Did you have fun?” Sunghoon answers, a smile on his face that turns into a gulp when he sees your half-naked body in the rearview mirror. He can’t help but risk a few more glances, hoping you don’t notice.

“I did, I really did, but I- I messed up that one turn, and I didn’t do the lift-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon says firmly. “You did real good, Baby.” And after a beat, he adds: “Thank you. You did real good.” Your eyes lock in the mirror but you look away before he can catch sight of your reddening cheeks.

“And oh my God, there was that couple, the, the-”

“The Jungs, right? Yeah, I saw them too,” Sunghoon chuckles. “I got so scared.”

“Right? Me too! They won’t say anything, will they, do you think?”

“Probably not. I don’t think they even recognized either of us.”

You button your jeans and climb your way over to the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, grateful for the lack of headrests in his car. It suddenly grows quiet between the two of you. You want to ask whether you’ll keep meeting now that you’ve done your part, but you’re afraid Sunghoon might want to have nothing to do with you from now on even if it doesn’t seem like he dislikes you anymore. So you stay silent, watching out of the window, sometimes turning your head towards Sunghoon and catching his eye, then smiling at each other shyly.

Something in you is screaming at you to reach out to him, brush a hand over his hair, interlace your fingers with his - any kind of touch. You thought the ball of nerves in your stomach would disappear after the show, but it’s still there, and it’s taken hold of your entire body now, the anticipation of whatever is to come almost unbearable. You notice Sunghoon’s gaze ping-ponging between you and the road, and the tightness with which he holds the steering wheel, and you dare let yourself hope, just a little bit, that he shares those same wild thoughts jumping around your mind.

When you reach the parking lot next to the staff quarters, Sunghoon is quick to get out of the car, while you rub at your eyes and lips, trying to get as much makeup off as you can. Your parents would most likely be in bed by now, but just in case they were still up, you didn’t want them to catch you with bright red lips and blue eyelids. Sunghoon walks around to your side and opens your door for you, even grabbing your hand to help you out of the car. Once you’re out, he takes your other hand in his, facing you as he walks slowly backwards, and with the way he’s gazing down at you, you think those unspoken thoughts might finally come into the light. But before either of you can say anything, you hear quick footsteps rushing towards you, and a familiar voice calling out to Sunghoon.

He swings around to find a panting, alarmed-looking Jake. “Sunghoon, it’s- it’s Chaewon, something went wrong, she’s not feeling well-”

Neither of you need to hear more before you’re running to the cabin, reaching it in record time. There’s way more people than there should be in and outside Chaewon’s room, all watching and doing absolutely nothing except for another girl you recognise as part of the dancing crew holding a wet cloth to her head as Chaewon, her face covered in sweat and her eyes shut tight in pain, moans and mumbles incoherently, slightly delirious from fever. The girl at her bed steps aside when she sees Sunghoon approaching, and he kneels next to Chaewon, holding her hand in both of his and reassuring her as best she can.

“It’s that doctor,” Jake starts, “he was so shady, had a folding table and a dirty knife, and I- I heard screams coming from that room, Hoon, awful screams, and I tried getting in and getting Chaewon out but they wouldn’t let me-”

What’s obvious to you right now is that Chaewon is in desperate need of an actual doctor, and nobody here can provide that for her, so you rush out of the room, and, as fast as your legs can carry you, run to your father and wake him up in a hurry, grabbing his doctor’s bag. You’re glad for your father’s blind trust in you - other than an instinctive “Is Seeun alright?”, which you nod your head at, he doesn’t ask any questions, just sees you need his help. He listens to your unclear and frantic explanations of what’s going on as he follows you to the staff cabin. 

“Alright, out of the way, everyone, give the girl some space,” your father says as he enters Chaewon’s room, the way he carries himself and speaks instantly commanding obedience from the group. People filter out as he takes Sunghoon’s spot next to Chaewon, checking her pulse and temperature. “Who’s responsible for this lady?” he asks without looking away from his patient.

“I am,” Sunghoon says, taking a step towards him. “Is she gonna be okay?” He seems so distressed you want to take him into your arms and tell him it’ll be okay, but you can’t do that - not here, not in front of your dad.

Your father turns his head to take a look at Sunghoon, his expression unreadable, then turns back to Chaewon, leaving Sunghoon’s question unanswered, floating in the air ominously.

He makes you all leave the room, and you wait for what feels like hours until your father finally comes out, his briefcase in hand, and announces that Chaewon just needs some rest and then she’d be okay. He lets Jake thank him and shake his hand agitatedly, but once again just stares Sunghoon down and ignores him when he tries to do the same. He takes you by the shoulder, making you walk away with him without saying goodbye to anyone. He’s silent for a few moments, waiting to have gone down a few steps before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is tense and almost trembles with anger.

“Is this what my money paid for? I’m disappointed in you, Baby. You’re not who I thought you were.” He doesn’t even let you defend yourself, just keeps walking without looking at you. “I don’t want you to hang around those people anymore, do you understand?”

“But dad-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he says firmly, and the slight increase of volume catches you off guard. Not once has your dad raised his voice at you, or at least not since you were a child - that’s how you understand how truly upset he is at you. He finally turns around to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “And get that stuff off of your face before your mother sees it.”

The rest of the walk back to your bungalow is done in unbearable, utter silence, and you can’t wait to be away from your father and the anger pouring off of him in waves. But that silence doesn’t seem to go away, even when you finally reach your bed, even when your sister starts snoring quietly, completely oblivious to the events of the night. The silence grows so loud in your ears that it creates a fuzz all around your brain, making your head throb and blurring your thoughts, rendering them incomprehensible. The sheer weight of it forces your eyelids closed even though you don’t feel tired at all - there’s too much going on in your mind for you to fall asleep.

There’s the relief of your father having helped Chaewon, and the knowledge that she’ll be okay thanks to him; but there’s also the image of his disappointed expression etched into your brain and the words “You’re not who I thought you were” playing on a hellish loop. There’s the worry he won’t ever see you the way he used to, that you won’t be his little girl anymore, but there’s also the satisfaction of that exact thing, the liberation that comes with your father finally realizing you’re not perfect and make mistakes too.

And then there’s Sunghoon.

There’s Sunghoon, and his concern for Chaewon’s safety, his love for his friend that he’s known for years, the hurt on his face when your dad didn’t shake his hand, and the way he quickly retracted his own thereafter, a defeated expression like he was used to such disrespect. But before that, there’s his dimpled smile and sharp canines you find weirdly endearing, the carefree sound of his laughter after you fall on top of him in the water, his warm hands guiding you from step to step, the quick glimpses he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking but hopes that you are. Even before that, there were the ice-covered walls he put around himself and his friends that could melt as quickly as they could freeze back up, until finally one day he opened the door for you to come in. There was the elegance in his moves and the feeling like all the air in the room had evaporated when you watched him dance, only for it to fill you back up when he took you by the hand and showed you how to let yourself go for the first time.

The fog in your mind clears at the thought of him, like sunlight forcing its way through gray clouds after a thunderstorm. You need to see him.

You need to check on him, to make sure he’s feeling alright, and laugh with him if he is or cry if he isn’t. You need to hold his head between your palms and graze a hand through his hair and do and say all the things you’ve been wanting to this week.

You climb out of your bed and grab the first cardigan you see, then slip your shoes on and make your way to the front door. You try to be as quiet as possible, but once outside, you hang back just for a few moments in case anyone has heard you leaving, so that if they come to check, you can just say you’re getting some fresh air on the front porch. No one seems to stir so you rush to Sunghoon’s cabin. It’s past midnight and the only light guiding you is that of the stars and the bright moon up above.

When Sunghoon opens his door, he seems at once relieved and surprised to find you there. “Baby,” he simply says, gazing down at you. He looks so tired, you think. The performance at the Sheldrake was just a few hours ago, but it already feels so far away.

“Hey. Can I- can I come in?” you ask, slightly out-of-breath from your walking so fast.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says, turning his body to let you in his cabin. Since your first time here, that night you’d found Chaewon crying in the kitchen, you’d learned more about this place. Thanks to his seniority here, Sunghoon has a separate studio-like cabin further down the path where all the staff bungalows are, and it’s bigger than most of them, even though it’s still just one room that accommodates his bed, a closet, a desk, a sink and some other chairs, shelves and drawers.

A soft song is playing in the background and the main light is off, the small lamps here and there providing enough light for you to see. You hadn’t at all thought to look around when you were here last, so you’re curious to really see what Sunghoon’s living space is like.

You walk further into the room, taking in your surroundings and reveling in all the traces of Sunghoon’s life - discarded clothes here and there, a stack of record players from the early fifties to now, posters of movie stars and famous singers, some photos of him with Jake, Chaewon and other members of the entertainment team. He looks around like he’s seeing the room for the first time too, maybe trying to see it through your eyes and imagining what you could be thinking of it. He picks up clothes from the floor and from an armchair only to throw them in his closet, gesturing for you to sit down, and rubs the back of his neck in what seems like an embarrassed gesture.

“It’s not much… you’re probably used to a lot better…” he says with an apologetic tone.

“No, no, it’s great,” you say quickly, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. You look at him with a smile. “I love it here.”

He mirrors your smile, letting out a shaky breath of relief, then sits down at the edge of his bed, too far away for   your liking. The tense atmosphere from earlier in the car is back, filling the room with the silence of a thousand unspoken words. A beat passes before you speak up. “I’m sorry about the way my father treated you, Sunghoon. It wasn’t nice.”

Sunghoon looks genuinely shocked upon hearing your words and starts to shake his head fervently. “No, no, your father was great, the- the way he took care of Chaewon, I could never do anything like that in my life, he was amazing.”

“Yes, but I’m talking about you, Sunghoon, not Chaewon. He completely ignored you, he should have treated you with more respect.” His eyes find yours, and the look on his face like he wants to believe you but can’t quite bring himself to makes your heart ache.

He chuckles and lets his head hang low, looking down at his hands. “Why should he? I’m- I’m nothing,” he says quietly, so quietly that you think you might have misheard, because never in a hundred years would you have thought that someone like Sunghoon could think so lowly of himself.

Your surprise makes it hard to gather your words and say something coherent, but you try your best. “What- Sunghoon, how could you say that? You’re not nothing, you’re- you’re everything,” you say, the last word coming out breathy.

He looks at you like he’s never heard those words before, never had somebody tell him he was so much more than he thought he was - but maybe that’s because he’d never told anyone how he really felt. A pained expression flashes across his face, and you’re scared you might’ve said the wrong thing but his next words reassure you that that’s not it.

“You don’t understand… One month, I’m living off of scraps and struggling to make ends meet, and the next, rich ladies are stuffing hundred dollar bills in my pockets and giving me the key to their room. Everywhere I am, people just use me to get what they need. My dad basically forces me to work with him and doesn’t give a crap what I really want, the women here use me to escape the boredom of their lives, and Max and his asshole grandson Jay just want me to make as much money as I can so they can get even richer.” His voice gets louder the more he talks, the anger getting to him. He chuckles darkly, but his expression softens when he catches your gaze. “I have to live like this. If I start thinking I deserve more, that I- that I’m everything, like you say, I’ll never be satisfied. I’ll always want more. I can’t handle that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way,” you say quietly, shaking your head and looking at him sadly. You don’t know how to make him see that for the joy he brings everyone who gets to see him dance, for the care and safety he gives the people he loves, and the way he’s made you feel like you can finally escape the thoughts in your head, he deserves everything he wants in the world. You don’t know how to make him see his worth and the respect he deserves as much as anyone else.

He smiles at you wistfully, like he can see his own, long-gone, naive hopefulness on your face. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Baby. You look at the world and you think you can make it better.”

It’s your turn to chuckle humorlessly. “Yeah, I run to my daddy, like you said.”

“No,” he says firmly, his tone catching you off guard. “No, that took a lot of guts, doing what you did. I love that about you, you just go ahead and do things. You didn’t even know Chaewon, and yet you learned a whole professional routine in a week just because you wanted to and you could. And now you risked your relationship with your father just to help her out once again. You- you’re not scared of anything!”

“Me? I’m scared of everything!” you cry out, suddenly standing up, the emotions boiling in your stomach making you unable to sit any longer. “I’m scared of the disappointment in my parents’ eyes, of failing school, of being stuck in a life I can’t escape from…” Your gaze travels around the room before it settles on Sunghoon once again, your gazes locking each other in so tightly you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look away. “But most of all,” you continue, voice shaky and desperate, “I’m scared of leaving this place and never, ever feeling again the way I do when I’m with you.”

His jaw tightens and he has to force himself to look away from you, his eyes focusing on a random object in the corner of the room. With the way he huffs air through his nose and tenses his whole body, he almost looks angry, but you know that’s not it - finally, after a week of torturous hesitation and not-knowing, you understand how Sunghoon feels about you. He feels just like you. All those lingering gazes, those small shocks of electricity whenever you touched, those loud heartbeats at his constant proximity, he felt them too, and it drove him crazy too; you’re sure of it.

Or at least, almost sure of it. And there’s only one way to confirm your suspicions.

Sunghoon thinks you’re not scared of anything, so you’re going to prove it to yourself. You take a step towards him, then another one, and another one, until you’re standing right in front of him. You extend a hand out to him and he doesn’t question it, just takes it and rises, now towering over you as you had over him just a second ago. You’re as close as you usually are when you dance together - or perhaps a bit closer than that.

“Dance with me,” you whisper into the space between your bodies.

“What, here?” he whispers back, finally looking at you. His gaze lingers in your eyes before dropping to your lips, his pupils slowly dilating - there’s your confirmation. 

“Yes, here,” you reply, echoing your conversation on the tree trunk, which somehow was only yesterday.

You wrap your arms around his neck just as his hands come up to hold you by the waist. It’s a position you’ve found yourselves in a hundred times by now, but tonight, it feels so different. The air around you is charged with electricity and all of your moves are purposeful, trying to make the other feel all that you’re feeling with just a touch.

Tight in each other’s arms, you sway to the slow rhythm of the music, your head resting in the crook of his neck while his hands travel from your waist, to your shoulder blades, back down to your hips. Even with two layers of clothing between your bodies, the feeling of having him so close sends shivers down your spine, even though your skin burns everywhere it comes into contact with him. Your breath makes goosebumps appear on the side of his neck, and when his grip on your hips tightens, you take it as a green light to start pressing faint kisses to his skin. He bunches the fabric of your blouse in his hands, slowly pulling it from the confines of your jeans and over your head, making you raise your arms. He makes a ball out of your top and throws it somewhere across his room, his attention fully taken by the sight of your now half-naked body. He immediately discards his own t-shirt, putting his hands back on you as quickly as he can, as if scared you might suddenly disappear.

You go on dancing together, bodies moving in harmony, as if you’re one being rather than two. You let your hands travel over his shoulders and chest and rest them on his stomach as you lean your upper body backwards, trusting him to hold you while you circle your way back to him. When you do, his hands roam down to grab your ass and hike one of your legs around his hips, the friction of your pelvises rubbing together eliciting a heavy, relieved sigh from both of you.

Finally, your lips find each other, and you kiss like you’re each other’s sources of oxygen. Of course, Sunghoon is one of, if not the best, kissers you’ve ever had the honor of sharing a kiss with, because how could he be anything other than perfect? The way he kisses is intense and a little bit messy, and it ignites your whole body, making you crave only more and more until you’ve had everything you want. Your hands and his are restless, endlessly drifting over each other’s bodies, grabbing at shoulders or hips or strands of hair.

He walks backwards to his bed, never once breaking the passionate embrace, until the back of his legs hit the mattress. He sits, spreading his legs wide enough for you to stand between them. His face is right at the level of your chest, and the way he looks up at you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses there makes your insides burst and the fire in your core burn harder. Keeping eye contact with him is too much to handle, so you close your eyes and let your head back slightly, grazing your hands through the soft locks of his hair and simply enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. His warm hands roam your lower back before traveling north to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it but doesn’t take it off - instead, he calls your name, and it’s never sounded better than on his lips.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You look back down at him and find in his eyes a sort of lustful, dreamlike daze that you’re sure must reflect your own perfectly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks breathily, wanting to be certain this is okay for you, but sounding like it’d be the death of him if you said no.

You smile softly and take his head in your hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He smiles too, exposing his sharp canines and pretty dimples, and sighs of relief. “Thank God.”

Your bra comes off, and you almost laugh when his pupils blow out at the sight of your naked chest, but your amusement dies, cut off by a loud moan as soon as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, twirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive bud before moving on to the other one. One of his hands rests on your ass while his other arm is wrapped around your waist, and his grip on your waist tightens every time you make a sound that he particularly appreciates. You’re pulling at his hair so much, you’re almost scared of hurting him, but truth be told you’re too focused on the way his mouth feels on you to really be careful about it.

“Come here,” he says, voice hoarse. His jeans aren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard he is, and he groans at the sudden contact when he pulls you down into his lap. You press kisses everywhere you can - his cheeks, the crook of his neck, his hair, before finding his lips once again. You don’t even realize you’re grinding yourself against him until he breaks away from the kiss to let out a quiet moan, and you bury your face in the dip between his shoulder and his neck, breath hot against his skin as you whine in pleasure.

You could do this for hours, and maybe you do - but at some point, you start needing something more and your core throbs, desperate for more attention. And what better way to communicate that to Sunghoon than to show him exactly what you want?

You unwrap your arms from around his shoulders and let your hand roam down to the waistband of his jeans, smiling shyly at him as you get down on your knees in front of him. He watches with a pained expression, like the anticipation of what you’ll do next actually hurts him, as you unbutton and unzip his jeans, then slide them along with his boxers down his legs. To distract from the fact that his size slightly intimidates you, you take him in your hand right away, circling his reddened tip with your thumb before starting to bring your palm up and down his shaft while your other hand rubs his thigh.

You’re absolutely breathtaken by the sight in front of you: Sunghoon’s abs tensing visibly at your ministrations, his head hung back and his neck and Adam’s apple flushed red on display for you, moans increasing in volume as you continue. You had a feeling Sunghoon wouldn’t be a quiet one, and you’re proud to be proven right.

You put your own needs aside for now, just wanting to see Sunghoon in as much pleasure as you can give him. You bring your head forward and lick a stripe up his length, satisfied when he lets out his loudest moan so far. You don’t tease for too long, only licking at his tip for a bit before taking more of him in your mouth. You keep one hand at the base of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the part you’re able to reach. 

This is the first time you’ve gotten so much pleasure from giving - maybe because Sunghoon’s reactions feed your ego, maybe because you’re so obsessed with him that knowing you’re making him feel good is enough, or maybe both. Definitely both.

But Sunghoon doesn’t let you have your fun for too long, and soon pulls your face gently away from him. His flushed face and fucked-out expression is gratifying to say the least. You look up at him with a smile, rubbing his thighs with your palms as you wait for him to catch his breath.

“A minute longer,” he says, panting, “and I would’ve died.” You giggle at his dramatics and hoist yourself back up, about to position yourself again on his lap but Sunghoon has other plans. He lays you down on your back and comes to rest on his side next to you, holding himself up on a forearm; that way he has both full access to and full view of your face and body. Perfect.

His face is close enough to yours to press kisses there and on your neck while his hand makes his way down your body. When it reaches the waistband of your jeans, you don’t wait for him to say or do anything and undo them yourself, which makes Sunghoon smirk.

“Impatient, are you?” he teases.

“You’re one to talk,” you bite back with a smile, even though your cheeks start to burn.

He slips a hand under your jeans, and gathers slick from between your folds before starting to rub small circles on your clit with the pads of two fingers. He soon gets frustrated from the way your clothes restrict his movements, and whispers in your ear, “Might as well take everything off while we’re at it, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes at his playful tone but comply, more than happy to undress if it means he can touch with more ease. And indeed, he wastes no time before slipping a finger inside you, smirk widening at the loud half-gasp half-moan you let out at the feeling. “Much better,” he whispers again, but any comeback is wiped from your mind as he adds a second finger in, curling them so that they hit just the spot. You’re drenched at this point, your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs, but that only makes it easier for him to slip his fingers in and out and means you’re more than ready for him. He keeps his thumb on your clit so that the friction there doesn’t stop either, and it isn’t long before you start to feel that familiar knot twisting your insides, appearing much quicker than you’d like it to.

“Sunghoon- I’m gonna, I’m-”

“You are, huh?” he breathes against your neck in between kisses. And just like that, as if you’d told him to stop and not that you were about to finish, he slips his fingers out of you, watching your reaction with a devilish, amused smirk.

“What? No, no-” you whine, but it’s no use. He rolls away from you, opening the drawer in his bedside table to retrieve something, and he’s lucky it’s a condom, because you might have killed him if it was anything else.

“Just because it’s our first time, I’m making you cum on my cock,” he explains as he rips open the small packet and puts the condom on. He comes back and places himself over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and aligning himself with your entrance. “Next time, you’ll cum on my fingers and mouth as much as you want, Baby.”

And then, he pushes in.

You don’t need to tell him to go slow, or to wait before he starts moving; he knows. He holds himself up on his hands, biceps tight, and watches your face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort while he furrows his way in, inch by inch.

When he finally bottoms out, he presses a soft kiss to your glistening hairline and bends down to whisper in your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all week, and it’s even better than I imagined.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards, but the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up like this makes your brain go fuzzy and you can’t even begin to form coherent words or thoughts. You grab on to his biceps and shoulders as he starts to move back and forth, slowly at first, but progressively picking up speed, your moans egging him on.

He takes one of your legs and hikes it up around his hip, allowing him to go deeper and hit that spot that has you arching your back and crying out. You’re clawing at his back, eyes shut tight and mouth going dry, and his fast, regular rhythm is bringing you to the edge once again. Either Sunghoon has terrible timing, or he knows precisely how close you are and wants to tease you, because he slows down and pulls out. “I just want to make it last a bit longer,” he explains, murmuring the words in the crook of your jaw and neck before pressing a kiss there.

He pushes himself away from you and sits up on his bed, his back against the headboard. He looks at you with a lopsided smile, and when you position yourself on his lap, you take a couple moments to admire him before taking him again. His hairline beads with sweat, his face and upper body are flushed a light red color, his breathing is quick and shallow, mouth slightly agape, and his eyelids are heavy with lust, eyes almost closed. He’s never looked so good. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and you smile both at the compliment and at the fact that you were thinking the same thing about him just a second ago, as if you shared each other’s exact thoughts. You shake your head, and his gaze turns loving as he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Baby. There. Said it.”

You kiss him passionately before taking him in your hand and raising yourself on your knees to guide his tip towards your entrance, keeping eye contact with him as you sink onto his length. The new position hits even more sensitive spots and makes the two of you moan simultaneously. 

Deciding to let him rest for a bit, you start moving yourself up and down on his cock, quickly settling into a nice rhythm that doesn’t tire your legs out too much but still manages to make you see stars. You hold onto Sunghoon’s shoulders, hands sometimes grabbing onto his hair while his stay firmly planted on your ass, kneading the soft skin there. You try to hold his gaze for as long as you can, but the pleasure starts to overwhelm you and you can’t do anything but shut your eyes, head falling back as loud moans escape your lips. There’s no way you could have kept it quiet, so you’re extremely grateful that Sunghoon’s living quarters are far enough away to avoid an audience.

Despite the immense pleasure of being on top of him and of choosing your own rhythm, your thighs start to hurt after a few minutes of this. Thankfully, Sunghoon notices your decreasing pace and the way your legs falter, and takes things into his own hands, finally ready to stop edging and bring the both of you to your ends. One hand on your lower back, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he presses your chest firmly to his, hugging you tight, and starts bucking his hips into you at a pace that has you crying out into his shoulder. Your hands find purchase in his hair, pulling tight enough to hurt at the roots. If Sunghoon stops, it might be the death of you, so even if it’s a struggle to get the words out, you want to let him know how you feel.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, right there, please don’t stop, please- oh, my God!”

The sound of your two bodies coming together is lewd, but it only adds to your bliss, and in just thirty seconds of this, the knot in your stomach breaks loose and sends your whole body trembling against Sunghoon’s. He’s not long after you, the sound of his name over and over on your tongue as you cum sending him tumbling over the edge. You feel hot tears streaming down your face at the relief of finally having come undone, and the sounds leaving your lips now are fainter, your body too weak to even make any noise. 

You stay like this for a few moments, body limp on top of his, allowing your breaths to return to normal. You’ve had two boyfriends before, and they were the only two you’d ever had sex with, so it’s not like you had already discovered everything about the joys of sex, but you knew for sure that it didn’t always feel like this, didn’t always take you to heaven and back. Usually, you’d have stood up and cleaned yourself by now, but with Sunghoon, you never want to leave this spot. Fall asleep like this, wake up like this, stay as long as you wanted like this. But after a few minutes, Sunghoon stirs and you jolt out of your daze, getting off of him, wincing slightly at the sensitivity between your legs. 

He slips from his seated position and lays on his back. You follow suit, turning your body towards the ceiling, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of touching him, of getting closer - or maybe scared that he’ll suddenly want to be left alone, or worse, never want to see you again. But all your negative thoughts dissipate when he shifts to his stomach, sliding slightly down the bed to rest his head on your chest, burying his face there, hugging your waist tight, and letting out a contented sigh. Although your heart swells at his ridiculously cute actions, to say you aren’t a bit surprised would be a lie - after seeing a leading, more dominant side to him all week, since he was the one teaching you the dance and guiding you through the moves, you had thought it would translate to the way he was in bed. Yet, he had let you do what you wanted, let you set your own pace, as much as he had himself. And now, he was perfectly happy seeking out your affection and not making you come to him. It made you appreciate him that much more.

One of your hands makes its way to his back, grazing your fingernails along the expanse of it, while the other plays gently with his hair. You fall asleep in record time, perfectly at peace and exhausted from so much exertion.

-

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re still laying on your back, and although Sunghoon has drifted away, probably due to the heat in the room, your legs are still intertwined and he’s got an arm resting on your midriff. There’s nothing to let you know the time, so you look out the window and notice with panic that the sun has started to rise, which means it must be close to six a.m. You try to shake Sunghoon awake, but he just grumbles something incoherent and hugs you tighter to him, which you absolutely would have swooned over if you didn’t need to get back to your bungalow - and so you shake him harder.

“Sunghoon, wake up!” you say, far too quietly for it to actually wake him up, but he looks so cute asleep that it’d break your heart to wake him up too harshly.

“Why…” he whines, face buried in your neck and voice coming out muffled.

“I don’t want my father to notice that I’m gone,” you say, the aftertaste of the words bitter in your mouth.

“Why, what time is it?” he asks, slowly coming to his senses.

“I’m not sure, but he never wakes up late, so I don’t wanna risk it.” Your father, needing a real break from intense work days, had started waking up at 6:45 instead of 5:30 every morning. How relaxing.

“But I want you to stay,” Sunghoon grumbles, and you bless him for speaking your own thoughts but also curse him for making it harder to leave.

“I know, so do I. But I’ll see you later, okay?”

A beat. “Fine,” he sighs, then pushes himself off of you. He doesn’t look at you while you put your clothes back on and walk out of the room, but you know he can’t have fallen asleep again so quickly, so you’re terrified of having said or done something extremely wrong, but you can’t take it back now, so you just close the door behind you and rush back to your own bed.

The breakfast table is completely silent, the tension between you and your father clear to your mother, who doesn’t say anything, scared of accidentally adding fuel to the fire, and even to your sister, who eats her grapefruit quietly, darting her eyes back and forth between the three of you. Jay shows up from only God knows where and, not even trying to read the room, asks cheerfully what you’re all planning on performing at the show.

“We won’t be at the show,” your father says, making everyone’s heads snap towards him. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, miss the weekend traffic.”

“We haven’t discussed this, honey,” your mother says just as Seeun whines, “But Daddy, we’ll miss the show!” You keep quiet, pretending the overcooked scrambled eggs on your plate are the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 

“It’s the biggest night of the season!” Jay chimes in, also trying to persuade him.

“Yeah, and I wanted to sing something!” your sister adds.

Your father looks back and forth between your mother’s and sister’s bewildered faces, then sighs and begrudgingly bows to their wishes. “Alright, alright, it was just an idea.”

A smile breaks on your mother’s face and Seeun clasps her hands together with a small noise of joy. “Perfect,” Jay exclaims, pointing a finger at you as he walks away. “Baby, I’ll need you for props.”

“So, Seeun, what songs do you have in mind?” your father asks and gets up, gesturing at your sister to follow him, although he looks completely uninterested. She practically jumps up from her seat and starts listing all her song ideas, leaving her half-finished breakfast behind.

You finish eating your own, making small talk with your mother for long enough so that she isn’t suspicious of your trying to escape, although you can tell she knows something is up and just won’t mention it. You thank her silently for it, and excuse yourself from the table to go check up on Chaewon.

When you get to her room, she’s still in bed, but isn’t sleeping and doesn’t look in pain anymore - she’s sitting up, flicking through a fashion magazine. She smiles brightly when she sees you at her door, discarding the magazine and extending her hands out to you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask as you take her hands in yours, crouching next to her bed.

“Much, much better,” she says, sounding relieved at her own answer. “You just missed your father. He’s an amazing man.”

You only have time to talk for a minute when the door opens once again to reveal Sunghoon. Seeing him creates a pit in your stomach, either from the memory of what you did last night or from the way you had to escape soon thereafter. You stand up straight, taking a few steps away from Chaewon. He looks at you briefly before turning his attention to her, and asks the same question you did moments prior.

“I’m feeling a lot better. Baby’s father says I’m still able to have children.”

“That’s great, Chaewon, that’s amazing,” Sunghoon says, sounding relieved.

“But what about you guys? How did the show go last night?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.

Sunghoon glances at you, and you avoid his gaze as best you can. “It went well,” he simply says, not explaining any further. 

“Yeah, I didn’t do the lifts, but other than that it went well.”

Chaewon looks at him, then at you, and all at once notices the awkward tension in the air - and she understands the situation as clearly as if it had been written out in black and white for her.

It’s silent for a few seconds until you speak. “Well, I guess I better go then… I’ll see you around.” You give Chaewon a small smile and head to the door, letting your eyes linger on Sunghoon before slipping out. But of course, you can’t actually bring yourself to leave, and sit on the stairs a few meters away from the door. From where you are, you can hear every word spoken inside the cabin.

“Sunghoon,” Chaewon starts.

“So, you’re feeling better, huh?”

“Sunghoon.”

“But you should still get some rest, right?”

“Sunghoon, stop it.” That shuts him up. “What are you doing? You’ve told me so many times not to get mixed up with them,” she says, sounding at once worried and reproachful.

“I know what I’m doing, alright?”

“Sunghoon, listen to me you gotta stop it, you know it’s not gonna end well-”

“I said I know what I’m doing,” he snaps, but seems to immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Chaewon, I just- you’re in no position to be worrying about me right now. I know what I’m doing. I trust her.” There’s a small silence, and you have no idea what expression Chaewon must be wearing right now. Is she unsure, satisfied, worried, angry? Is she nodding, trying to respect his decision, or looking like Sunghoon’s making the biggest mistake of his life? “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later, alright? Rest up.”

“Alright, see you later, Hoon,” she says quietly, and when Sunghoon opens the door, he finds you waiting for him. You stand up and just look at him, unsure how to express what’s on your mind. You’d completely forgotten everything you had meant to tell him.

“Oh, hey, Baby,” he says upon seeing you.

“Hey.”

You both just stand there, staring at each other, no idea how to start the much-needed conversation.

“Look, I’ve got a uh, a lesson I need to go to right now, so…” he trails off.

“Right, right, no problem,” you say, nodding far too vigorously.

“But I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Neither of you move for a few moments, and you feel like you’re completely stuck in place, unable to move until you’ve had the reassurance that things can stay as they were between you and Sunghoon. But he walks past you, already a few meters away when you gather the courage to call out his name, and he turns around so quickly, you dare to hope he might have been waiting for you to do so. You don’t say anything, you just smile, and hope he understands. He smiles back, an actual smile where his dimples appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and you know that for now at least, everything is okay.

-

“God, I am so sick of this rain,” your sister complains as she dabs powder on her face, covering up non-existent blemishes. All four of you are in the living room of your bungalow, resting after lunch and getting ready for the rest of the day. You and your father play a boring game of checkers, trying to make the tension disappear slowly, while your mother reads some detective novel.

“Where is my beige iridescent lipstick?” Seeun asks furiously, punctuating each of her words, as if that was the kind of everyday thing that lies about in everyone’s house.

Your father wins the game and looks relieved that it’s over more than anything. You pick up a light raincoat and head towards the door, but your mother calls out your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in this weather?” she asks with curiosity rather than wariness in her voice.

“They’re playing charades in the main lobby,” you reply casually, used to giving out random excuses by now.

“Quite the little joiner, are we?” your sister teases, and you’re not sure if she’s just making fun of you or if she knows you’re up to something but you ignore her anyway and walk out of the cabin.

You make your way to Sunghoon’s place as quickly as you can to avoid the rain. You had ran into him that morning and, when your parents weren’t looking, he let you know that he was free all afternoon with a smile that was as good as a spoken invitation.

He brings you into a hug as soon as you’ve closed the door behind you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring an apology into your hair. “I’m sorry I acted so awkwardly yesterday. You left so suddenly that night, and I was scared you regretted it…”

You lean back and gaze into his eyes. “I regret absolutely nothing, Sunghoon.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh, smiling as he nods. “Good. Me either.”

You press your lips to his, and although the kiss starts out slow and soft, it doesn’t take long for things to heat up. You let out a small yelp when Sunghoon lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the mattress. He holds up to the promise he’d made the other night - namely, making you cum on his tongue and fingers as much as you want, or rather, as you soon find out, as much as he wants.

He starts by undressing you slowly, taking his time to revel in the sight of your naked body and the idea that it’s all for him. He only leaves your panties on, rubbing small circles over your clothed clit as he works his mouth on your nipples and breasts, paying each side its due attention. He then makes his way down, leaving warm kisses everywhere he can from your stomach to your inner thighs, and makes sure to work you up and have you squirming before actually slipping your panties off and giving you what you want. Once he’s wrapped his lips around your clit, it’s like he can’t get enough. With two fingers inside you, he sucks and licks at the sensitive bud for what feels like so long that you don’t know how his wrist and jaw don’t get tired. You don’t even try to count the number of times he makes you cum, simply taking every orgasm in stride, and even though you get so sensitive after a while, you’ve entered some sort of blissful, exhausted daze that you can’t bring yourself to break away from.

Afterwards, you’re lying next to Sunghoon, your head resting on his chest and grazing your fingernails up and down his arm while he plays with your hair. You’ve somehow managed not to fall asleep despite the tiredness filling your entire body, and you and Sunghoon talk quietly, the sound of the rain outside like a peaceful background song. You listen to him describe his dream of opening a dance school someday and choreographing professionally, then he listens as you talk about all the places you want to visit and the things you want to learn about the world. You share childhood memories and awkward first kiss anecdotes and compare your relationships with your parents and the similar sort of pressure they put on your shoulders, albeit for two very reasons.

“My dad especially, he just doesn’t understand that dancing can be an actual profession. He sees it as some kind of hobby I’ve had since I was a teenager and that it’ll pass soon when I realize I can’t make a living out of it. He completely ignores the fact I get paid more in three months here than in half-a-year with him, but he doesn’t mind taking the part of my salary I give our family when I come back, that’s for sure,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I’m scared he’ll think I’m betraying him if I don’t take up his carpentry business.”

“I was top of my class in elementary school, and my parents thought that meant I was the brightest little girl in the world and would grow up to achieve great things,” you explain in a joke-admirative voice. “And even if they tried not to say anything, I could see the disappointment on their faces when I brought home a B or was ranked third at a test. I’m happy I got into Yale, and that they can afford to pay for my studies, but it’s just gonna be even more pressure for four more years.” After a beat, you decide to add, “I can only forget about all of this when I’m with you. You just make all of my worries disappear for a while.”

The conversation takes a slightly sentimental tone as you tell each other what your first impression of the other was. You admit sheepishly to Sunghoon that you were attracted to him as soon as you saw him dancing with Chaewon that first night, and that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after he danced with you, even though you found him a bit of an asshole the first couple of days he taught you the dance. You tell him you were sure he hated you at first, and he reveals that he didn’t at all.

“But I can see why you thought that. I just… I had never met anyone like you, Baby. Someone who thought she could just show up somewhere and decide to help a stranger out for no other reason than to help them out of the kindness of their heart. I didn’t know if you were the most foolish or the bravest person ever. And yeah, I’ll admit, I wasn’t the nicest to you at first. I kinda have this thing against… against rich people, I guess,” he says, chuckling softly. “For me, a wealthy person is like Max, or Jay, or all those ladies here. They use their wealth to get you to do what you want. But you’re not like that, and it took me a while to understand that. I’m sorry,” he finishes, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“No, no, it’s okay… I’m sorry they’ve all treated you like that. You deserve better.” He thanks you quietly and a comfortable silence settles between the two of you for a few minutes and you’re close to falling asleep when Sunghoon calls out your name.

“Hm?”

“What’s your real name?”

You raise your head to look at him and flash him a big smile. It’s been ages since someone asked you that, most people not bothering to question your nickname.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he echoes, gazing at you lovingly. “It fits you perfectly.”

You press a gentle kiss to his lips in response, and you think it’s gonna end at that, but Sunghoon pulls you back in right as you’re about to lean out, and you know you’re done for. You’re still extremely sensitive but that only adds to the pleasure of him filling you up, intertwining your fingers with him as you make love, his thrusts slow but deep and your bodies pressed flush against each other. Your heart is bursting with something that you can only recognize as love.

-

That night, as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, your sister says something that jolts you awake.

“I’ve decided to go all the way with Heeseung,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice. 

You snap your head towards her. “What? Seeun, no, you shouldn’t-”

“I’ve already thought about everything. I want it to happen on the night of rehearsals, I know what I’ll wear-”

“No, Seeun, listen, you can’t do it with Heeseung, I’ve already told you he’s bad news!” you whisper-scream, trying to get some sense into her head without your parents overhearing.

“Who else with, then?” she whisper-shouts back.

“Just- I don’t know, but not with him, it needs to be with someone you actually love, someone you can trust-”

“I can trust Heeseung. I do trust him - more than I trust you, actually,” she says, the conversation taking another turn.

“Seeun-”

“No, Baby. You don’t actually care about this, or even about me. All you care about is that you’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore. He listens when I talk now.” She turns her back to you with a huff.

“Seeun-” you try again, but she’s already done talking.

“Goodnight.”

You want to find a way to stop your sister from wasting an important experience like having sex for the first time on a guy like Heeseung, but you also know that once she’s set her mind to something, it’s hard to stop Seeun from doing it. Maybe this will be a lesson for her to learn from, you think, trying to reassure yourself.

The next afternoon, when your parents are busy playing cards with another couple and Seeun is off somewhere with her friends, you sneak off to visit Sunghoon in his dance classroom. He has an hour free in between classes and you use that opportunity to mess around for a bit. You put on a song you both love and dance together whichever way you want, acting out and lipsyncing to the lyrics. You have fun teasing him by swerving your head when he leans in for a kiss or trailing your hand along his arms, shoulders and back.

The sound of loud footsteps coming up the stairs spoils your fun, and you quickly position yourself face to the mirror and pretend you’re practicing basic mambo moves while Sunghoon heads to the record player. The one and only Jay stands at the door and seems to falter for a second at seeing you here.

“Hey, Baby, taking dance lessons?” You simply nod at him. “I could teach you kid,” he says, mirroring your moves and dancing a few steps until Sunghoon makes the record scratch, stopping the music abruptly. Jay’s arms drop to the side and he gives you a look as if to say “check this guy out,” and you try not to roll your eyes at him. 

“Sunghoon,” he says, walking towards him with all the confidence of a boss talking to his employee. The addressee simply raises his chin at him, pretending to busy himself with the record player. “My grandfather put me in charge of the talent show, and I’ve been thinking about the final dance. I’d like to uh, you know, do something different-”

“Yeah?”

“Move with the times-”

“Yeah? That’s great, I’ve got plenty of ideas-” Sunghoon says, speaking so quickly he cuts himself off, but Jay’s smile drops instantly. “We’ve been working on something with the staff, it goes like-”

You watch in the mirror as Sunghoon dances a step you’ve never seen before, and it looks really cool but Jay shakes his head, gesturing at Sunghoon to quiet down like he would a kid, as if they weren’t the exact same age.

“Woah there, you’re way over your head, boy.” Sunghoon stands up straight once again, jaw locked tight. “I was thinking, instead of doing the last dance to the mambo, how about, this year, doing it to the pachanga?” Jay asks, looking at you with a smile and nodding, as if he’d just said the most revolutionary thing ever.

“Right,” Sunghoon says coldly, bursting Jay’s bubble.

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re more than welcome to do the same tired number as the previous years, but I’m sure that next summer, we’ll find a dance instructor who’s-”

“The pachanga,” Sunghoon cuts him off, raising his voice over Jay’s. “Great idea, Jay, let’s do that.”

A satisfied smile grows on Jay’s lips as Sunghoon turns back to the record player, and he struts back towards you. When he’s close enough, he leans in and says conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear, “He’s, uh, a bit hard to get through to sometimes, but the ladies seem to like him.” He doesn’t realize that you’re one of said ladies. “Make sure you’re getting the full half-hour you’re paying, kid,” he says once he’s at the door, and slips out on that graceful note.

Sunghoon’s next class takes place on the gazebo, so you accompany him there, trying to keep up with his long strides made quicker by his frustration. “God, I just hate that guy, he has no idea what he’s talking about. He wouldn’t recognise a good idea if it hit him in the pachanga,” he huffs angrily.

“But can’t you just talk to him? I’m sure he’d listen if you’d just tell him-”

“Didn’t you see what happened, Baby? He won’t listen. I can’t get everything I want just by asking, he’s the one with the money, with the power, I can’t do anything-”

“But it isn’t right! You have to fight harder-”

“That’s not how it works for me, Baby-”

You let out a small gasp, interrupting Sunghoon whose head pivots towards you, but you take him by the shoulders and bring him down to a crouch next to you. He follows your gaze to find your father, leaving a building with Heeseung and Seeun. Your dad brings his arm around Heeseung and shakes his shoulder in a fatherly manner while Seeun looks at them with a smile. 

Sunghoon’s muscles tense in realization - you don’t want to be caught with him, especially not by your father. 

You’re completely oblivious to this, and stand back up when the three of them are out of sight. “Alright, I think they’re gone,” you say, and only realize what you’ve done when you see the tight expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“Fight harder, huh?”

You just messed up real bad. “No, Sunghoon, I was planning on telling him, I just haven’t yet-”

“I don’t believe you, Baby. I don’t think you’ve ever had the intention of telling him,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes look down at you harshly, and it hurts so much more now than when you’d just met. 

“Sunghoon, please-”

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You watch Sunghoon’s shrinking figure, cursing yourself for your cowardice and for your inability to do exactly what you preach. Your father was already so disappointed in you for simply being friends with Sunghoon, so if he knew what you were actually up to, he might go and disown you.

A few hours with no one to spend them with get you thinking. You had always thought your father was the best man on earth. Funny, loving, kind, fair. But you now realize it might not be so - he is prejudiced towards people who aren’t like him and isn’t forgiving of others’ mistakes. He made you believe in a world where everyone should be equal, but he himself doesn’t treat everyone the same. 

You also hate what this is doing to Sunghoon. You, who had told him he deserved everything he wanted, weren’t even capable of holding his hand proudly for everyone to see. So, for Sunghoon’s sake as well as for your own, you have to tell your father how you feel for Sunghoon, and put up a fight if he tries to stop it.

But first, you had to find Sunghoon and apologize. It’s nearing dinnertime, and he shouldn’t be working anymore, so you go look for him in his room. He isn’t there, so you head to his dance studio, then the gazebo, and anywhere else you can think of where he might have classes. But he’s nowhere to find, and after half-an-hour of running around, your last option is to go ask Chaewon where Sunghoon might be. At least, you know she’ll be in her room, still recovering.

You take a second to catch your breath then knock on Chaewon’s door, then wait until she calls you in to open the door. “Hey, Chaewon, have you seen Sunghoon?” you ask, only realizing after you’ve said the words that it might be rude to be so direct, but you don’t have time to apologize because your eyes shift to the other person in the room, who is, of course, Sunghoon himself. He stands up from his seat on the armchair in the corner, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He could be anywhere on a scale where one extreme is ‘he hates you and never wants to talk to you again’ and ‘he has never been so relieved to see you’ and you’d have no idea.

“Can we, um, talk? Outside, if it’s okay?” you ask, eyes darting back and forth between Sunghoon and Chaewon. She smiles and jerks her head towards the door, silently telling Sunghoon to go with you. He purses his lips and nods, following you outside and closing the door behind him.

He rests his palms on the banister of the front porch, looking out at the lawn and the resort buildings in the distance. You stand behind him, bringing your palms up to his arms and kissing his shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs, basking in your touch despite himself. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m sorry.” 

He turns around, gazing down at you with that unreadable expression on his face. “It’s okay. I understand.”

When he kisses you, the relief in your bones is like nothing else, better even than coming home to your bed after a long, tiring day, or than getting a good grade on a test you thought you’d failed. Your arms wrap around his neck while his find their way to your waist, and you revel in the closeness of your bodies and the taste of his lips, like mint and something uniquely Sunghoon that you can’t ever get enough of.

But unfortunately, you stay long enough in this position to attract the attention of a one-man audience. “Damn, guess I picked the wrong sister,” you hear Heeseung chuckle, and when you pull away from Sunghoon, you see that insufferable smirk on his face. How you wish you could just smack it off of there. “Didn’t know you put out like that, Baby.”

It all happens so quickly, you don’t have time to understand what’s going on, let alone stop Sunghoon from jumping over the banister. He stomps over to Heeseung, grabbing him by the collar and shaking hard. 

“Repeat what you just said, I dare you,” he says in a low, menacing voice, face close to Heeseung’s. The latter’s smirk falters for just a split second before coming back, as if incapable of not looking like an arrogant asshole for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I said,” Heeseung starts, “that I hadn’t thought Baby was so fucking easy.”

Heeseung has barely finished speaking that Sunghoon has raised his fist back, ready to strike the insolent expression off of the boy’s face. It’d be satisfying, that’s for sure, but it wouldn’t be worth risking his job, so you call out his name and make him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t look back at you, though, just keeps his hard gaze fixated on Heeseung, breathing heavily in anger.

“Sunghoon, please,��� you repeat, pleading with him. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, loverboy?” Heeseung teases, but Sunghoon just drops his fist and pushes him away, making him stumble a few steps back. 

“You’re not worth it,” Sunghoon practically spits, sending one last cold look his way before walking back to you.

You don’t care enough to check how Heeseung reacts, just watching Sunghoon make his way back to you, relieved nothing happened. He stands in front of the banister, the height difference allowing you to hug his head to your chest and you press a kiss to the top of his head, whispering in his hair that you’re proud of him.

Soon afterwards, you have to head back to the building where the talent show will happen. He could do it anywhere else, but Sunghoon decides to plan out his performance in the same room, using the excuse of needing to see the stage just to stay around you. 

You’re painting some sort of fake coconut tree while competitors rehearse their performance, your sister by far the loudest of them. You try not to cringe as her dissonant voice reverbs around the room, but nobody pays her too much attention. It’s hard not to steal glances every two seconds at Sunghoon, and you tell yourself that he just looks especially good today in his tight black t-shirt and black jeans, but you also know he looks good everyday. His gaze also strays towards you more often than not, and you try not to burst into giggles every time your eyes meet, not wanting to raise any suspicion. 

This room is also where a group of men play their games of poker, and since it was big enough to host all of you, they had decided to stay there even through the preparations, sure that it wouldn’t disrupt their game. 

The not-staring takes on another level of difficulty when a lady you recognize as Vivian Kim leaves her spot standing behind her husband at the poker table to make her way to Sunghoon, walking in a fashion far too languorous for your taste. 

From where you are, you can’t hear exactly what she says, but it’s not hard to guess - an invitation to spend the night with her while her husband is busy, one last time before she leaves the resort and goes home.

Sunghoon stays silent but that doesn’t seem to deter her, and she flashes him a lurid smile before walking back to the poker table. He turns his head to check if you’ve seen what happened, but you look away from him and back at your coconut tree, hoping the jealousy you’re feeling isn’t written all over your face. 

Vivian’s husband calls out Sunghoon’s name, waving him over good-naturedly. You watch once again as Sunghoon walks over to the table and as Mr Kim pulls out dollar bills from his wallet. “Tonight’s the final poker tournament, so how about some dance lessons for my wife?” he asks, and you can’t tell from his tone whether he thinks that dance lessons really are what his money is paying for or if he knows what’s actually going on.

Sunghoon takes the money and Mr Kim smiles at him, returning to the game, but Sunghoon just stands there, staring at the bills in his hands, then to Vivian, behind him to you, and finally back at Mr Kim. “Thanks, Mr Kim, but I’m all booked up for the rest of the week ‘cause of the show, so I don’t think it’d be fair to take the money.”

Mr Kim nods as Sunghoon hands him back the cash, saying he appreciates his honesty. Vivian looks at him, eyes wide, obviously surprised at his sudden refusal. Sunghoon walks back to his seat, sending a small smile your way, and you try your best not to gloat. 

-

In the past few days, it’s become a bit of a habit to sneak out of your bungalow and rush to Sunghoon’s when your family has gone to sleep. Except tonight, what you don’t know is that Seeun hears you, because she’s planning on doing the exact same thing and paying Heeseung a visit. You’re already with your own lover when she heads out of the room, skipping in excitement and anticipation the whole way there. She’s applied lotion to her entire body, sprayed perfume to her neck, wrists and ankles, and has read all the sex advice columns of her favorite magazines - she’s more than prepared for this.

She reaches the door. Takes a deep breath in, stands up straight. Calls out, “Heeseung, it’s me!” but no answer comes. So she opens the door slightly, and almost drops her bag at the sight in front of her, gasping loudly. She has just enough reflex to close the door again and rest her back against it, taking a few seconds to let it sink in before running back to her bed, where she promptly explodes into tears.

Now more than ever, she wishes her sister was here, whether to comfort her or to say “I told you so.” She wishes you were here to help her make sense of finding Vivian Kim and Heeseung naked together in his bed when he had spent weeks making her believe he wanted to be with her and her only. She wishes you would curse him out and call him all the names she wants to but doesn’t have the courage to.

But unfortunately, you’re not there with her. Instead, you’re with Sunghoon, laying together in bed, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined. You’re both spent from a night of lovemaking and from your shower that was supposed to be innocent but quickly turned steamy. You wake up at dawn, knowing you’ll have to go soon but heart breaking at the thought of tearing yourself from Sunghoon’s warm embrace. You press soft kisses to his neck and whisper his name, trying to wake him up gently. His eyes stay closed as he tightens his arms around you and pleads with you to stay just a little bit longer, and you’re not strong enough to say no.

“I had a dream earlier where your father called me ‘son’ and put his arm around me like he did with Heeseung earlier.” His morning voice is raspy from sleep and sends butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you hum. “I’ll talk to him today. I’ll tell him about you.”

You feel his chest rise up then down as he sighs. “I thought about it, and I feel like it’d make things even worse if he knew about us. He just seems to think I’m a bad guy, for some reason, and me being with his daughter will only make him hate me more.”

“But you’re not a bad guy. You’re the best guy,” you say, voice slightly whiny. You’re too sleepy to come up with a better reply, and it makes Sunghoon chuckle.

“Thanks, Baby.” He presses a kiss to your hair, and it’s become such a familiar gesture that you’re not sure how you’ll live without it once you go home.

It’s not long before you have to head back to your bungalow, and Sunghoon walks you outside, slotting his lips with yours for one last time this morning and making plans to meet up later. You don’t pay attention to anything other than him - not to the slight breeze picking up, or the sun rising, or the staff bungalows, off to the side from Sunghoon’s. But not paying attention means not noticing a figure standing on one of those staff bungalows, not seeing her eyes squinting at yours and Sunghoon’s embrace, first recognising him, and, once her initial shock wears off, recognising you. Because of course, just like you, Vivian Kim has to leave Heeseung’s bungalow before anyone notices - except that in your case, someone notices you.

And the consequences of it appear only a few hours later, as your family are having a late breakfast with Max and Jay. When the conversation first begins, you don’t think it’ll be of much importance to you.

“You know that feeling when you look at a patient and think he’s all fine, but then you get his x-rays and something’s completely wrong?” Max starts, addressing your father. “That’s exactly what it is to find out one of your staff, a trusted one at that, is a thief.”

“What happened, Max?” your father asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Mr Kim’s wallet was stolen,” Max simply says, sighing. Jay jumps on the opportunity to explain the story himself, leaning in conspiratorially.

“It happened yesterday night when he was playing poker. One minute, his wallet was right there in his coat pocket, hanging on his chair behind him, and the next, it wasn’t.” Your sister lets out a small gasp.

“Vivian says she saw that dance kid Sunghoon walk by,” Max continues, and your head snaps up at the mention of Sunghoon’s name. “So we go and ask him if he’s got an alibi, and he says he was in his room alone all night, reading.”

Jay snorts. “There is not a single book in Sunghoon Park’s room.”

The whole time, you’re shaking your head slightly, unable to believe that Sunghoon might be wrongfully framed for this. You turn towards Jay, a pleading expression on your face. “Listen, there’s been a mistake, there’s no way Sunghoon did it-”

“There’s been similar thefts at the Sheldrake and even here. Three wallets stolen, and now Mr Kim’s!”

“No, I know he didn’t do it-”

“Stay out of it, Baby!” Jay snaps at you. You look at him in disbelief, because of the way he just talked to you, because of what they’re accusing Sunghoon of, but above all because it’s inconceivable that your parents ever wanted to set you up with a guy like him. Entitled, judgmental, unkind.

But you can’t just stay out of it - this concerns Sunghoon, and if you can stop it from happening, you’ll do everything so that he doesn’t lose his job over a false accusation. So you turn towards your father and Max, and plead Sunghoon’s case.

“I know Sunghoon didn’t take Mr Kim’s wallet, I know.”

“How can you be so sure?” your father asks.

“I-I can’t tell you, but Daddy, please, you have to trust me.”

Your father sighs, turning his attention back to his plate. “I’m sorry, Baby, but I can’t.”

“But- it could’ve been anyone else,” you continue, looking at Max now that your father avoids your gaze. “Maybe it was- oh, maybe it was that little old couple, the Schumachers, I saw her with a couple of wallets-”

“The Schumachers? Impossible,” Max refutes as your father furrows his eyebrows at you, raising his voice slightly.

“You don’t go around accusing innocent people, Baby!”

“But I saw them, I saw them at the Sheldrake- you said something was stolen at the Sheldrake, right?” you say, turning towards Jay again, your voice growing desperate.”

“Listen, Baby,” Max cuts in, voice calm but firm, “I’ve got an eyewitness and the kid has no alibi. Come on, Jay, let me show you how to fire an employee.”

You catch his wrist before he can turn away and gulp, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Wait a minute. I know Sunghoon didn’t do it, I know it, because he was in his room all night, and I know that because,” you pause for a second, risking a glance at your father, “because I was there with him.”

The table goes silent. You can feel yourself weighing down under the heavy gazes of everyone seated. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Max clears his throat and awkwardly says, “Right, well, we’ll investigate some more in light of these news-”

He’s cut off by the screech of your father’s chair being roughly pushed back. You watch as your father leaves the room, steam coming out of his ears, and you can only hope revealing the truth will be worth it in the end.

After giving your father some time to cool off, you find him in the empty gazebo, looking out at the lake. The water is still except for the parts where ducks dip their heads in and back out. Even now that the rain has stopped pouring every day, clouds still render the sky a blinding white, and the sun only appears now and then when they part enough to let a ray through. There’s a slight breeze that makes leaves flutter around, and you need to tighten your light cardigan around your shoulders.

You know he sees you approaching, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the lake, even when you call out to him. 

“I told you I wasn’t lying about Sunghoon,” you start. “But I’m sorry I lied about the money. I’m not proud of myself for that, you know. But you lied too,” you say, and he finally looks at you, awaiting an explanation. “You told me everyone deserved a fair break, but you meant everyone like you. You said I could change the world, but you meant by becoming a lawyer, or an economist, and marrying someone from Harvard!”

He closes his eyes as if in pain, then looks back out to the lake, staying silent. “I made a mistake. There’s things about me you don’t know, and things you might not like, but I’m in this family too, and if you love me, you’ll have to love my faults too.” Your voice shakes and your eyes start to water. Seeing your father’s eyes do the same only adds to the difficulty of saying what you want to say.

“Because I love you, Daddy, and I’m sorry I let you down, but you let me down too!” Your voice completely breaks on those last words, and you turn away, letting your feet guide you wherever before your dad can hear the sob that escapes your throat. You know your dad’s silent treatment won’t last for long, so you leave him in the gazebo to think and cry as much as he needs to.

Your body must have developed new instincts, because soon enough, you find yourself in Sunghoon’s cabin, unsure how you even got here. His things are still there, which reassures you of the fact that he hasn’t left yet. You pace back and forth in the room for a few minutes until your emotions suddenly come crashing down, all the stress and tension and strung feelings, leaving behind only exhaustion. You lay on Sunghoon’s bed, thinking you’ll just close your eyes for a few minutes. But when you open them again, they fall on Sunghoon’s face, and you have no idea how long you’ve been there.

“Sunghoon?” you murmur.

“I have been looking for you all over,” he says, crouching in front of you, and gives you time to sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “You were right about the Schumachers. Fingerprinted their glasses. Turns out they were wanted in a bunch of other states for theft too. They found them when they were already trying to leave the resort,” he explains, and your smile grows wider and wider as he speaks. 

“Oh my God, that’s amazing! I knew it’d work out!”

But Sunghoon diverts his gaze down, unable to match your euphoric expression. “I’m out, Baby.”

You quickly put two and two together. “They fired you anyway because of me.” 

“And if I leave quietly, I get my summer bonus,” he says sarcastically.

Your anger makes you stand up, walk to one corner of the room then back, your voice rising on its own accord. “So I did it all for nothing, then? I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway - it was all for nothing!”

“It was not for nothing!” Sunghoon exclaims, volume matching yours. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me!” He searches your eyes for the reassurance that everything that happened this summer was worth it, but he only finds sorrow in them.

“You were right, Sunghoon,” you say with a sad smile, voice lowering to a hum, “you can’t change anything no matter how hard you try.”

“No, Baby,” he says, walking towards you, “I don’t want that from you, you hear me? You can. You can do whatever you want.”

Your gazes stay locked in each other for a few painful moments until it becomes unbearable and you have to look away. “I used to think so too.”

There’s nothing left to say. You watch silently as Sunghoon begins packing the few belongings he has in two small suitcases and a rucksack, then help out when the passivity starts to make your muscles ache. He hasn’t got much, so he’s done in just a few minutes, and you don’t realize you have tears pooling in your eyes until Sunghoon himself notices and wordlessly takes you in his arms.

You’re heading to his car when he suddenly stops in his tracks, saying he has something he needs to do first. You don’t question it, just agree to wait for him. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do anyway.

A few minutes later, unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is knocking on your cabin’s door. Just as he’d hoped, your father is the one to open the door, squinting his eyes meanly at the young man behind it as soon as he realizes who he is. Your father stays silent as he stares Sunghoon down, making a chill run down Sunghoon’s neck. He clears his throat before speaking. “Doctor, I-” he starts, already cutting himself off to take off his sunglasses. “I’m going anyway, and I know what you must be thinking-”

“You don’t know anything about me,” your father interrupts, shaking his head in disdain at Sunghoon. “Anything at all.”

Sunghoon had really wanted to stay calm and focused, to just say what he wanted to stay, but now that he’s leaving, he has no reason to put up with the blatant disrespect and contempt of the clients and higher-ups any longer. “I know you want Baby to be like you. An admirable person, the kind people look up to, but if you could just see, she’s already like that-”

“I know my daughter far better than you do, so don’t you tell me what to see,” your father practically barks, unable to contain his anger. “What I see right now is someone who got his partner in trouble and sent her off to some butcher, then moved on to a younger, innocent girl like my Baby.”

Rather than frustrated, Sunghoon’s eyes grow tired and sad. There’s no fight left in him anymore - he can see he won’t be able to change your father’s mind, there’s no point even trying. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you would see,” he murmurs before walking away, back to you, the only person who’s ever wanted to truly understand him.

And then it’s goodbye. 

While you were waiting, you kicked pebbles, brooding over the fact that your already shortening time with Sunghoon was getting cut off even more. But as soon as you see him, those thoughts evaporate, and you’re left with bittersweetness in your mouth. You spent the most incredible summer with him by your side, and even though it’s coming to an end, maybe the experience and the memories are all that matters.

Sunghoon closes the trunk when he’s done packing it, and walks over to where you’re standing, back against the passenger door, arms crossed over your chest. He rests his forearm on top of the car and neither of you are able to look the other in the eye for fear of emotion overwhelming you.

“Guess we took them all by surprise, huh?” you say, trying on a light-hearted tone to dissolve the tension in the air.

“Guess we did,” he chuckles quietly, risking a glance up at you. Your eyes meet and before you can break down, you turn your body towards his, nesting your face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to your hair like a hundred times before and it’s enough to make your heart break. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you around.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll just have more time for card games and croquet,” he jokes, but you can’t laugh. “And Jake and Chaewon will still be around.” It’s silent for a few more minutes, and you try to commit the feeling of him against you and the smell of his skin to memory. “I’ll never be sorry,” he finally says, voice muffled by your hair.

“Neither will I,” you whisper against his neck.

He inhales deeply and tears himself away, gazing down at you sadly. With his thumb, he wipes a tear as it drops down your cheek, and presses his lips to yours in one last kiss, tasting the saltiness of your heartbreak. “I’ll see you around, Baby,” he says against your lips, forehead resting against yours. But he can’t linger - it would only make this impossible moment even harder.

Your vision is too blurry for you to see properly as he walks to the other side of the car and disappears in the driver’s seat. In a matter of seconds, his car becomes a fuzzy black dot in the distance, and you’ve no choice but to walk back to the place that made you discover love only to rip it from your hands.

-

The three days until the talent show feel like eternity. Counting down the minutes until you leave doesn’t make time go by any faster, but you don’t feel like doing anything else. You hang out with Chaewon and Jake and their friends when they’re free, going back with them to the staff main quarters one night, and even though the music is the same as the first time, Sunghoon’s absence changes everything. You can’t dance without imagining his hands on your waist and his voice guiding you through the steps. 

Seeun is also a lot nicer to you. She tells you what happened with Heeseung, and it’s like your shared love troubles bring you closer, reminding you that you’re not so different after all. As you get ready to go watch the talent show, she sits next to you on the bed, offering to do your hair. But then she takes a strand of it in her hands, trailing her fingers through it, and looks at you with a soft smile. “You know what, I think it looks perfect just like that.” 

You mirror her smile and drop your head to her shoulder. You stay like this for a few seconds, words unnecessary to understand each other. “You’ll do great tonight, Seeun. I can’t wait to watch you.”

“I know,” she replies, making you both giggle. “Now let’s go, it’ll start soon.”

You’re not surprised to see that your parents have chosen to seat you in a corner, trapped between a wall and your father. Practically the same thing, you think, but you’re wise enough to keep the comment to yourself. 

The performers have gathered in a line on the stage, your sister included, to sing the resort’s last day song as a conclusion to the show now that Sunghoon isn’t here to do the final dance. Max even gets his own solo. The song goes on for far too long to your taste, so you take the time to look around the room.

The lights are dim, save for the ones on the stage so that the focus of the audience stays on the performers, and wall fixtures next to the exits so they can be found easily. Chairs have been brought to the center of the room right in front of the stage while tables line the walls, candles adorning each one. Staff don’t get seats - instead, they stand at the back of the room, their backs against the wall as they watch the stage with boredom written all over their faces. You catch Jake’s eyes and he winks at you, a mischievous smile on his face, and you chalk it up to his usual playfulness.

Heeseung walks near your table, and your father stands up, calling out to him. He gets something that looks like an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to him. “Good luck in medical school, son.” Heeseung takes the envelope, looking down at it with a smile, and your father rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you so much, Doc,” Heeseung beams. “And I also wanted to thank you for your help with the Chaewon situation, I guess we’ve all gotten into messes like these, huh?” Your father stands with his back to you, so you can only imagine the way his smile falls and his eyes harden.

“What?”

Heeseung’s smile falters slightly and he chuckles awkwardly. “I-I thought Baby told you… Look, it’s what Chaewon said, but I’m not sure, you never know with girls like that, they could pin it on anyone-”

Your father snatches the envelope back from Heeseung’s hands, glaring at him, and walks back to his seat next to you without a word. It’s only now that you understand your father’s dislike of Sunghoon - he had been certain Sunghoon was the one who had gotten Chaewon into such trouble. How could you have missed that? All this time, you thought it was just because Sunghoon was part of the staff and didn’t come from your world. Regret and frustration bubble up in your stomach. So many misunderstandings could’ve been avoided if only you had known what your father thought.

It’s only after a few minutes that he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Baby.”

You take a deep breath in. “Thank you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Daddy.”

He turns his head to look at you. “You’re right. You’re right,” he sighs.

Just then, Jake walks past your table and towards the stage, disappearing behind the curtains on the side. You lift your head, trying to see what he’s up to, but the sound of the doors at the back of the room opening and closing loudly catches your attention. It seems to catch everybody’s attention - you hear small gasps and small murmurs of a familiar name, and your mind directly lands on the possibility, but you don’t believe it until you see it standing right in front of you, a hand reaching out to you - Sunghoon’s here.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

You take his hand and let him guide you away from the table. You’re so enchanted by seeing him again that you barely notice your mother having to keep your father from stopping you. Together, you climb up the small set of stairs, walking past the performers and standing in the middle of the stage, the music stopping abruptly. His voice booms throughout the room when he speaks.

“Sorry for the disruption folks, but I always do the last dance of the season. This year, I was told not to. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a great partner. Not only is she an amazing dancer, but she also taught me that people will stand for other people no matter what it costs them, and about the kind of person I want to be myself. Miss Y/N Y/L/N, everyone.” 

Whoops emerge from the back of the room where the staff are standing and you watch as Sunghoon walks to the side of the stage, discarding his leather jacket and exchanging a nod with Jake. The music starts to play - it’s a song you’ve heard before, a song you know well because you’ve danced to it many times with Sunghoon. It’s a song you love. 

He walks towards you, a smirk on his face, eyes heavy with desire. He places his hands on your waist, your own coming up to his forearm, and dips you backwards in a circle, which elicits more cheers from the dancers. He then stands behind you, imitating the starting position of the dance for your performance at the Sheldrake. The music picks up, and after that, it’s like magic. You and Sunghoon know exactly what to do, a mix of the choreography he’d taught you and of other moves you had picked up when you just danced together for fun. All the steps and turns come to you as if you know this dance by heart, and the whole time, you’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shine with happiness.

Sunghoon makes you spin away from him, and, your arm extended between you two, brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss to the back of it. Then, he jumps off the stage, prompting gasps and cheers from all around the room, and makes his way while dancing to the back of the room, where the dancers join him. Seconds before the second chorus is about to start, some of them run to you and help you off the stage, and Sunghoon nods at you from the middle of the room. So you run to him, gathering momentum until you reach him and he picks you up, lifting you from the ground up into the air, and you manage to keep your bird-like position for a few seconds. A huge smile breaks on your face as everybody cheers, your mother and sister clapping excitedly and even your father looking at you, astonished, proud. 

Sunghoon brings you back down slowly, grinning as he gazes at you with only love in his eyes. “I knew you could do it,” he whispers.

The staff starts to invite the guests to dance with them, pushing chairs to the side and getting people to stand up. Jake shows Seeun how to move, reminiscent of the way Sunghoon had done with you, your mother and Jay dance together, and the whole room turns into a dancefloor where couples and small groups can let go and move however they want to. 

You and Sunghoon head to the exit to find a quieter place, but your father calls out to you before you can slip away. “I found out you weren’t the one to get Chaewon in trouble.” Sunghoon simply nods. “I was wrong. I apologize,” he says solemnly, and the corners of Sunghoon’s lips tug slightly upwards.

“Thank you, Doctor Y/L/N.”

Your father’s eyes drift to you, and his polite expression turns affectionate. “You looked great up there, Baby.” You sigh, relief washing over your whole body and alleviating the weight on your heart. You let go of Sunghoon’s hands to wrap your arms around your father’s neck, and he takes you in a brief but tight hug.

“I’ll let you two go now. I need to find your mother, haven’t danced with her in ages. That’s something else I can thank you for,” he says, smiling down at you.

You watch him walk away for a few seconds until Sunghoon takes your hand in his again, and you slip out the doors to the front lawn. Outside, you close your eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air in, laughing for no reason other than simple joy when your eyes meet his.

He leads you to the gazebo and brings his hands to your waist again. The song is nearing its end but you can still hear it drifting through the open doors and windows of the room. You know that even when it’s over, it’ll keep playing in your head - and in your heart.

Just like you’ll always keep Sunghoon there.

You move slowly to the rhythm of the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes. You want to enjoy this moment for what it is, but the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow won’t leave your thoughts. This might very well be the last time you and Sunghoon ever dance together, or ever see each other. You can give each other your address and send letters, or exchange home phone numbers and call, but how long will that last? You’ll go to college while he goes home and starts working with his father again, or finds a way to fulfill his dream.

He probably sees the sadness in your eyes and brings you closer to him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to - you know the same thoughts are cramping his mind. Words are unnecessary, and promises are futile, so for now, you forget everything else, and focus on the sway of your bodies and on his hands holding you tight against him.

Resting the side of your head on his shoulder, you look up at the night sky. The stars are shining bright, unbothered by any clouds, and the full moon gazes down at you protectively. Even when you’re apart, you and Sunghoon will still sleep under the same moon every night. You may be just one of the many love stories she’s witnessed, but you dare to think that yours is a special one, one that can’t be reproduced, one that is uniquely yours.

You continue to dance even when the song is over, letting your bodies bask in the moonlight.

fic taglist: @jaetaimjadore @sleepingsag permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[paddockletters]

our place | trent alexander-arnold

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: just a peaceful drive along the coast, enjoying each other's company author's note: as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

The car hummed steadily along the coast, the sky a soft wash of pinks and oranges as the sun set in the distance. Trent’s hand rested casually on the gear shift, the other holding mine. We weren’t saying much—just enjoying the simplicity of being together. The wind blew through the open windows, filling the car with the salty sea air, and I couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful it all felt.

“You’re quiet,” Trent said, glancing over at me with a teasing smirk. “Planning your next move in case I make you drive?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “If you’re expecting me to take the wheel, you’re dreaming. I know my strengths and driving isn’t one of them.”

Trent chuckled, giving my hand a small squeeze. “You’re just scared because you know I’ll be an annoying teacher.”

“You? Annoying? Never,” I replied sarcastically, though my grin gave me away.

He glanced over, a playful glint in his eyes. “You think I’m kidding, but one day I’ll get you behind the wheel. Mark my words.”

The drive continued in comfortable silence, the kind of silence that only came after spending years together. We didn’t need to fill every moment with words, and sometimes, that’s what I loved most about us—how easy it was. How natural.

I remember the first time we met, on that cold, rainy afternoon in London. I had just moved into the city, lost and carrying boxes up a flight of stairs that seemed never-ending. Trent had appeared out of nowhere, offering to help, his lopsided grin catching me off guard. He was polite, too polite even, and his easy charm was disarming. I didn’t realize until hours later that he was that Trent Alexander-Arnold—the rising star of English football. But at that moment, he was just a boy who helped a stranger carry boxes in the rain.

“You look like you could use some help,” he had said, his voice warm despite the rain pouring down around us.

I had laughed, wiping the raindrops from my face. “Is it that obvious?”

He had grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “A little. Let me take that for you.”

“Thanks for the help,” I had said, extending my hand. “I’m—”

“Exhausted?” he had joked, cutting me off. “I can tell.”

I had laughed again, feeling an instant connection. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m Trent, by the way,” he had said, extending his hand once we had finished unpacking.

““y/n, I’m completely exhausted,” I had joked, wiping the rain from my face. “But it’s nice to meet you too.”

That had been the beginning. From that moment on, our lives became intertwined—late-night conversations, spontaneous coffee runs, long drives through the countryside when we needed to escape the city. Everything with Trent felt easy, natural, like he had always been a part of my life.

We started dating 9 months later and moved in together 1 year before. Our flat was small, but it was ours, filled with mismatched furniture, memories of trips we’d taken, and the kind of love that felt like home. Every corner of that space held a memory—a favorite song hummed in the kitchen, late-night dancing in the living room, lazy Sundays spent tangled in each other’s arms and now.

Now, here we were, 3 years later, driving down the coast, just the two of us, no destination in mind. Trent had always been spontaneous—he’d wake up one day with an idea, and before I could blink, we’d be off on some adventure. I wasn’t like that by nature, but being with him had made me appreciate these unplanned moments.

As we neared a little seaside town, Trent slowed the car down, pulling into a parking spot near the beach.

“Let’s get out,” he said, turning off the engine.

I followed him out of the car, the sound of waves crashing in the distance and the faint chatter of people walking along the boardwalk filling the air. Trent slipped his hand into mine, leading me toward the sand.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, smiling up at him.

“No plan,” he said with a grin. “Just thought we could walk a bit.”

We strolled down the beach, our feet sinking into the cool sand as the last rays of sunlight faded below the horizon. It was the kind of evening that felt like it could stretch on forever—quiet, peaceful, but full of unspoken things.

“Do you remember the time we got caught in the rain?” Trent asked.

I laughed, nodding. “Which time? There’s been more than one.”

“The first time,” he said, grinning. “When we were moving your stuff into your flat.”

“Oh, yeah,” I chuckled. “I thought you were just being polite, helping me out. Had no idea you were this big football star.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t that big back then. You were the one who caught my attention, not the other way around.”

“Smooth,” I teased, leaning up to kiss him softly.

He smiled against my lips. “I mean it, though. I’ve always been yours, you know that, right?”

I felt my heart swell at his words. I knew. I had always known. “And I’ve always been yours.”

“Do you ever think about the future?” Trent asked, his voice breaking through the soft lull of the ocean.

I looked at him, surprised by the question.

“Of course. I mean, I think about it all the time. Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes focused on the horizon.

“I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Us, I mean.”

I smiled softly, watching the way the fading light danced across his face. “You’ve always been the future-planner between us.”

He turned to face me, his expression more serious than before.

“Yeah, but this feels different. I’ve been thinking about what it’d be like to marry you.”

My breath caught in my throat for a moment, and I stopped walking, letting his words sink in. We’d joked about marriage before, in passing, but this felt different. The way he said it, the way he looked at me—it wasn’t just a casual idea anymore.

“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Trent smiled, taking both my hands in his. “I’m always serious when it comes to you.”

I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t see why not. I’ve known for a while now that you’re the one.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check, but it was impossible not to feel overwhelmed by how much I loved him in that moment. Trent had always been good at making me feel loved, but this was different. This was him laying everything on the line, telling me he wanted a future together, and I knew without a doubt that I wanted the same.

“I love you,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I love you too. And you know what?”

“What?”

“This will be our place,” he said, motioning to the beach around us. “The place where we decide to spend forever together.”

Later that evening, after grabbing some food from a local spot, we found ourselves sitting on the sand, wrapped up in blankets, watching the stars as the waves rolled in. It was one of those perfect nights where everything felt right.

Trent nudged me with his elbow.

“You know we’re going to have to tell people eventually, right?”

I groaned, burying my face on his chest. “Do we have to?”

He laughed, pulling me into his side. “Yes, we do. But... let’s keep it between us for a little while longer. Just you and me.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “Yeah. Just us.”

For now, that was all we needed.

[peachiejeongin]

The Phantoms Part 1: Hollywood Tragedy | Bang Chan

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a huge night for Chan, Changbin, and Han; they would be playing their biggest show yet at the Orpheum! Yet, it all slipped from their grasp within a matter of a few seconds, as all three passed away just hours before the show. What happens when they end up on their old garage floor and meet a someone who can make their dreams come true again?

Pairing: phantom!Bang Chan x fem!reader (Reader takes the place of Julie Molina from Julie and the Phantoms) [Does not occur in this chapter]

Genre: Julie and the Phantoms/3RACHA AU, Crack, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of death

Notice: Another idea that has stemmed within my brain! I have decided to take 3RACHA and Julie and the Phantoms, combining them into an alternate universe! In this series, Bang Chan will represent Luke Patterson, Changbin will be Reggie Peters, Han will be Alex Mercer, and y/n will take the part of Julie Molina! As with every series I write, I do NOT own the rights to 'Julie and the Phantoms!' I only hold the rights to the scenes and descriptions I create! I am excited to write this series, and I hope you all enjoy :)

Hollywood, California, 1995. The night that everything changed.

Last night was destined to be momentous for Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, and Han Jisung - a triumphant step into the spotlight for their band, 3RACHA. The Orpheum, an iconic venue synonymous with "making it" in the music world, had finally opened its doors to them. It was not a simple accomplishment. Even after people knew who the band was, they still had to use every ounce of effort within them, calling in every favor they had from friends, family, and befriended executives to secure the opportunity. The day Chan received the fateful phone call inviting 3RACHA to perform a showcase at the infamous theater was unforgettable. The boys erupted into jubilant chaos in the cluttered garage - cheering, leaping, and shouting as if their dreams had materialized before them. Chan, the ever responsible leader, motioned for them to stop acting a fool as he attempted to remain professional for the secretary on the other side of the line.

Alas, 3RACHA had finally made it. The hours leading up to the performance were a blur of rehearsals, their focus razor-sharp as they fine-tuned each guitar riff, tightened every bass groove, and perfected the rhythm of every drumbeat. They poured themselves into the music, all in hopes to make the night one to remember for their fans and for cementing their place in the music industry. The night would be unforgettable, but not in the way the boys envisioned.

---

Microphone feedback rang out briefly through the stage room as 3RACHA ran through one last song before the show. Chan began the guitar riff for the band's lead track, 'Now or Never,' followed by three raps of Han's drumsticks.

"1, 2, 3!"

"Take off Last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first Full charge Electric hammer to the heart"

Chan's rich, melodious voice resonated through the venue, each note carrying a raw, electrifying energy that sent shivers through the crowd. His fingers kept up expertly with the fretboard of his guitar, each strum perfectly synced with the driving beat. As the lead guitarist and vocalist, the weight of the performance rested heavily on his shoulders, but he fulfilled it with grace and passion that was nothing short of breathtaking A confident smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced at the audience, their cheers spurring him on. Moments later, Changbin and Han stepped forward, their voices blending seamlessly with his for the pre-chorus, creating a harmony that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Clocks move faster 'Cause it's all we're after now"

Chan motioned subtly for Changbin, signaling him to join him at the microphone for the next verse. It was a part of the song they always sang together; although it had originally been written it in a tune solely for Chan. However, sharing the lyric with Changbin brought an undeniable sense of ease, grounding Chan even in the most nerve-wracking moments, whether performing or during a simple soundcheck.

Changbin instantly caught the cue, shooting Chan an exhausted yet eager grin, the exhaustion from rehearsals evident in his eyes but overshadowed by his enthusiasm. He approached the microphone stand, his movements quick yet deliberate, until his face was barely inches away from Chan's. Their voices joined in perfect harmony, a combined energy radiating through the air as the two began their shared lyric.

"Won't stop climbing 'Cause this is our time, yeah"

Changbin and Chan moved effortlessly back and forth to the tune of their own song, their bodies rocking and swaying with the beat. Grins stretched wife across their faces, uncontainable and almost goofy, as they fed off each other's energy. Chan pushed Changbin back with a playful shove, reclaiming the microphone and belting out his independent verse. As he hit the final note, he raised a hand from his to pump a triumphant fist in the air, a singature habit he had in between rest notes.

"When all the days felt black and white Those were the best shades of my life!"

Chan expressed pure joy as the band launched into the chorus, his smile wide and unrestrained. Beads of sweat glistened down all of the band members' foreheads, a testament to the energy they poured into every note and lyric. Their hearts pounded wildly, each beat louder and more intense than the thunder of Han's drum set; it was as if the music itself had fused with their very beings.

"Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we Hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never!"

With three exaggerated guitar crescendos and a rapid-fire drum fill, the boys shifted in unison, turning to face Han as he prepared to take the spotlight. Their smiles were full of encouragement, silently cheering him on as he began his solo verse. His voice rang out clear and commanding, each word carrying the weight of the song's energy, filling the room with an electric charge that left the Orpheum hanging on every note.

"We ain't searching for tomorrow (tomorrow) 'Cause we got all we need today (today)"

Changbin served as backup vocals for the verse. His mid-pitched voice complimented Han's higher tone in an ethereal way. "Living on a feeling that's been running through our veins We're the revolution that's been singing in the rain"

As the four guys sang the final chorus, they clapped to the beat, their movements aligning effortlessly with the sharp rhythm Han's drumsticks repping through the air. Chan, being the performer that keeps the crowd on their toes, pulled off a fresh trick - swinging his guitar in a smooth loop around his body before catching it flawlessly. As he caught it, the guitar riffs kicked back in, powerful and precise, while smoke uprose dramatically from below the stage, shrouding the band in a haze of light and sound. The boys jumped all across the stage, their infectous energy igniting the room. Despite the hullabaloo of movement, their vocals remained impressively steady, demonstrating their dedication to the art.

"Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never It's now or never (now or never)"

The final high note was always difficult to warble, but Chan delivered it flawlessly, his voice unwavering and powerful. As the song, reached its climax, 3RACHA ended the song all facing Han, each member locking in for the finale. Changbin, Chan, and Hyunjin poured all of their energy into their final, thrilling guitar plays, while Han punctuated the moment with an impactful cymbal crash that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire building.

With the last note hanging in the air, they spun around to face the crowd, with Chan raising his forearms above his head in a motion of triumph. Their hair stuck messily to their necks and foreheads, and adrenaline still coursed through their veins; all four had one thought cross their minds simultaneously: the ride home was going to reek of straight teenage boy body odor - and it was one-hundred percent worth it.

The crowd for the group's soundcheck was modest yet attentive; said crowd consisted of two members of the audio crew, a couple bartenders lingering in the back of the room, and one girl wiping down tables. From the small audience came a plethora of applause, as well as a few cheerful "Sounds great, guys!" comments that echoed in the near-empty space.

One girl in particular stood out - the one wiping down tables. She clapped the loudest, her enthusiastic applause adorned with spirited cheering. Her encouragement drew grins and chuckled from the band as they wrapped up their set. Still laughing, they carefully put their instruments back onto their proper stands, the girl's reaction making them feel as if they just played a packed stadium.

"Thank you! We're 3RACHA!" Changbin grabbed his mic for one final quip, which he complimented with a swift wink at the girl. He readjusted his microphone to its previous stance before rejoining the other guys.

"Too bad we wasted that on the soundcheck," Hyunjin, the rhythm guitarist of the group, commented. "That was the tightest we've ever played!" He and Chan fist bumped as the latter adjusted his necklace back to the front of his shirt. Han was given the same fist bump from the former as he attempted to one-handedly comb through his disheveled hair.

"Wait until tonight, man, when this place gets packed with record execs!" Chan exclaimed, turning his attention back to the center of the crowd, his eyes widened in hopeful expectation. Chan's ultimate goal for the band was to secure a record deal, and tonight was the perfect opportunity to turn his dream into a reality. After all Chan had sacrificed to keep 3RACHA alive, from running away from home to countless late nights producing and writing, they deserved at least a couple of deals, right?

"Han, you were smoking!" Changbin commented towards the brunette drummer.

"Hm? Oh no," Han denied, waving his hand dismissively. "I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire," he finished as he motioned to the other three members.

"Could you just own your awesomeness for once?" Changbin held up his pointer finger accentuatedly as he raised his eyebrows at Han. Han turned to the rest of the guys for approval, his blank expression slowly turning into one of meek self-appreciation; his nervous glances were met with nods from his band mates.

"All right, I was killing it!" he finally admitted in the tone of an energetic yell as he turned back to Changbin. Chan rubbed his shoulders in an animated manner before the brunette went in for a hug from Changbin.

"Okay, well I'm thinking we fuel up before the show," Chan began, still panting lightly from the intensity of the soundcheck. "I'm thinking street dogs." The rest of the boys agreed on the food choice with an 'Ooh!' coming from Changbin and an enthusiastic, 'Yes!' from Han's end. Hyunjin, however, had made his way towards the front of the auditorium, shaking his head in disagreement.

"Hey, Hyun," Han called after him. "Where ya going?"

"I'm good!" Hyunjin responded, referring to the street dogs. Hyunjin was now leaning forward on his hands, engaged in conversation with the cheering girl from before. "I'm a vegetarian, I could never hurt an animal." The other three boys shot daggers at Hyunjin's boldfaced lie, but then again, they knew Hyunjin all too well - he was one do to anything for his own gain, even if that gain were as simple as impressing someone.

"You guys are really good." The girl disregarded Hyunjin's flirtations, a mild accent lacing her tone. Chan moved his free arm to lean against Hyunjin's shoulder as he muttered a "Thank you."

"I see a lot of bands. I've actually been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it." Her compliments were genuine, which made all four boys beam in delight.

"That's what we do this for," Chan replied as he pushed in front of all of his members in order to get closer to the girl. "I'm Chan, by the way." The rest of the guys followed his lead with their respective introductions.

"Changbin! Hi, I'm Changbin!"

"Han! Hey!"

"Hyunjin." The last of the band greeted the girl by shoving himself in front of Chan; the latter of the two then stuck his pointer finger in his mouth, wetting it swiftly and sticking it directly in the former's ear. Han flashed her an apologetic look before she introduced herself as Rose.

"Oh, uh, here's our demo!" Changbin handed Rose one of the CDs he had been carrying, as well as a T-shirt he claimed to be "size beautiful." Upon that comment, Hyunjin and Chan both shook their heads, Hyun complimenting his with a subtle side glance. Changbin caught on to the stink eye as Rose thanked him for the shirt, shrugging his shoulders slightly afterwards in response.

"I'll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one," Rose joked.

"Oh, good call," Han responded, completely serious. "Whenever they get wet, they just kinda," Han paused, holding his hands out in front of him and wiggling his fingers in jagged movements before shoving his hands back into his pockets, "fall apart in your hands."

"Don't you guys have to go get hot dogs?" Hyunjin ployed as a way to make the guys leave him and Rose alone, undoubtedly planning to pester the girl with more flirtatious banter.

"Yeah," Chan smacked Hyunjin on the chest before leaning in front of Rose. "He had a hamburger for lunch today." They all giggled at the exposure before galloping away to purchase the infamous Street Dogs; Changbin did so with a pile of merchandise in hand. Chan made one last quip, however:

"Oh, and uh, Hyun? How's the bum rash, Mate?" If looks could kill, Hyunjin would have murdered Chan in cold blood.

Chan quickly escaped before that could happen, however, opting to catch up with Han and Changbin instead. A fit of giggles escaped his lips as he ran off.

---

Chan burst through the doors to the outside world, wrapping his arms tightly around Changbin and Han as they ventured down the street.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Chan enthusedly screamed as he took in the illuminated streets around him. Changbin replied with a scrunched nose.

"The smell of Sunset Boulevard?" he inquired with a chuckle.

"No, doofus," Chan answered, optimism still bright in his eyes. "Don't you get it? What that girl said in there tonight about our music?" Han and Changbin eyed each other perplexedly. Chan sighed, shaking his head. "It's an energy! Our music connects people. Connects us with people. They can feel our presence when we play." Chan eyed a group of fans lining up outside of the theater, smiling brightly as he did so.

"I want to have that connection with everybody."

"Then we are going to need a lot more t-shirts," Changbin responded, causing the other two to almost topple over in laughter. "But before we get shirts, can we get sustenance? Sound check's got me starving." Chan and Han nodded, muttering, "Yeah man," and "Of course," respectively.

As the three made their way to their Street Dog whereabouts, Changbin caught up to a group of girls standing outside of the Orpheum; he handed them a pile of 3RACHA branded t-shirts, and the subsequent squeals and calls for the bassist delighted his heart as he ran back over to his members.

The three eventually made it to the corner of Sunset Boulevard, where an Oldsmobile was set up. The open trunk contained hot dogs, hot dog buns, and every condiment imaginable. The three boys wasted no time in digging into the nourishment; the three of them messily assmbled their own respective hot dogs, with Han being the grubbiest of the three.

"Sorry, man," he spoke to the owner of the vehicle. "I got pickle juice on your batteries."

"Eh, don't worry about it," the owner replied. "It'll help with the rust." Han's faced contorted in uncertainty.

"I don't think..." The man creepily grinned at Han's aloud thought. Pickle juice did not have the chemical formula to clear rust off of a car battery, Han figured. The suspicious feeling in his gut grew; however, Chan grabbed his shoulder and dragged him and Changbin to an empty alleyway before he could think further on the matter.

The alley was adjacent to the Oldsmobile corner. The three guys plopped down onto an older couch towards the middle of the sidewalk; smiles were etched on two of the three faces, with Han still looking unsure about the Street Dog encounter.

"This is awesome, you guys!" Chan began rambling excitedly. "We're playing the Orpheum!" Joy completely enveloped the oldest of the three. He bit his lip, something he did whenever he felt a rush of adrenaline. "I can't even count how many artists have played here and become legends of their time. Louis Armstrong, The Bee Gees, the list goes on, mates." Chan glanced up at the starts and slowly closed his eyes as if he was making a wish; he let out a deep breath as he opened them.

"We're going to be legends."

Chan raised up his hot dog, encouraging the other two to follow suit in a sort of toast fashion.

"Eat up, boys. After tonight, no more Street Dogs. We're gonna be dining like rich kids." Chan ended his declaration with a chuckle, resulting in a smile from Changbin.

Chan took a bite of his hot dog first, followed closely by Changbin. Han was still immensely reluctant to even look at his; however, his mind had convinced him that it was not a big deal, that he was overthinking the situation. As such, he was the last of the three to scarf down his meal. Almost instantaneously, the gutwrenching feeling had returned; Han tasted a unique flavor, unlike the syrupy texture of ketchup, the tang of mustard, or the flavor of any other condiment; it tasted metallic, bitter, and unappetizing.

"That's a new flavor!" Han called to the other two, his faced puckered up in disgust.

"Chill man," Changbin casually responded, flicking his hand in a, 'do-not-worry,' motion. "Street Dogs haven't killed us yet!"

Talk about famous last words.

The exact sequence of events following Changbin's declaration of certainty was blurry. All the three could recall was an unappeasing churn in their stomachs, a sensation so intense that it forced the boys to the ground. Gasping for air, they clutching their torsos, their faces etched with pain and fear as they exchanged panicked looks. The world around them seemed to obscure moreso, the sharp wail of an ambulance siren wailing in the distance and echoing in their ringing ears.

Before they could process the unfolding calamity, their bodies grew limp, and they were lifted up by the strong hands of paramedics onto stretchers. The emergency workers moved precisely and urgently, working fastly in order to save the disaster at hand. Outside of the Orpheum, a crowd of fans looked on, stricken with worry and disbelief. Whispers spread among them like wildfire, prayers and manifestations filling the air as 3RACHA was transported to the hospital. They had saved up their allowances in hopes to see this show, but all they could anticipate now was a recovery from the three and a reschedule of the showcase.

By morning, news outlets would be covering 3RACHA's most notorious embellishment; unfortunately, it would not be the concert they worked so hard to make it to, or a spectacular recovery from their tribulated sickness.

"3RACHA: A Hollywood Tragedy."

[qrrieterisunnq]

Disneyland trip – Dawson Mercer

dawson!mercer x fem!reader summary: Your long-planned trip to Disneyland ends up being the best trip of your life when Dawson finally makes the last move for you to become a family A/N: Hi! Request that I've been working on for a while now, but it's finally done! So here you go!! requested: yes/no gif not mine likes are good, reblogs are better <3 word count: 1,25K warning(s): proposal, happy crying, Disneyland, cute Dawson, talks about the past but only a few sentences, kissing

masterlist | wip's

Sitting in the passenger seat, your leg bouncing from the excitement of visiting Disneyland. It has been your dream since you were a child, but your parents were so busy arguing your whole childhood, that they never took you there.

Your childhood wasn’t bad, but neither was good. Your weekends were spent in your room, as you played with your toys, or you were out with your friends.

Now sitting here, twenty-one years old, with your hot ass boyfriend driving you to the Disneyland in Anaheim. His hand resting on your tight, the other one gripping the steering wheel as he hums in the rhythm of the song playing on the radio. You look over at him, a loving smile forming on your lips as you place your hand on his, squeezing it.

“Thank you, Dawson,” you whisper not wanting to interrupt the pleasant silence. Dawson looks over to you, a small smile on his full lips.

“Every time, babes. You deserve the word. And I’ll do everything to give you one.” He brings your entwined hands to his mouth and kisses your every knuckle. Your cheeks redden at his words and action a quiet giggle escaping your lips. “We’re here baby.” He points towards the areal, your eyes catch the sleeping beauty castle. Your eyes light up with excitement as you bounce on the seat slightly, Dawson laughing at your excitement.

He parks the car in the empty parking space killing the engine. Before you can open your doors, he’s holding them open, helping you to get out.

“Here you go, princess.” He bows in front of you with a laugh.

“Idiot.” You giggle, closing the doors behind you. Dawson cages you between the car and his warm hard body.

“But yours baby,” he nuzzles his nose in your neck inhaling deeply. He loves how you smell. The sweet smell of your perfume and your body scent. “Only yours.” His eyes meet yours, his head bending down to connect your lips.

“Okay, let's go! I want to see everything.” You push him away after a while, almost running to buy a ticket. To your surprise, there are not many people waiting in line, so after ten minutes of waiting you and Dawson finally get your chance to buy the tickets. When the lady tells you the price, you pull your card out to pay for it only to be met with Dawson’s mobile on the payment terminal. You pour your lips, frowning at him, but you don’t say anything. With a smile and goodbye, you take the tickets finally walking towards the entrance.

You don’t what to look at first when you get in. There are so many things you want to see, but you know, you don’t have the time to see everything. You intertwine your hand with Dawson’s tugging him to the first thing you want to see. The Sleeping Beauty castle.

After an hour of walking around Disneyland, you’re having a small break to get some food and drink. You’re sitting on a bench in front of Critter Country, waiting for you to get on another attraction the many adventures of Winnie the Pooh. You’re holding a milkshake in your right hand with the left hand, you’re going through your bag to get some napkins out for you two. You look over at Dawson, who’s holding two big hotdogs in his hand, one halfway done as he chews on his bite. You took your hotdog from him, taking a bite by yourself, groaning at the taste.

“Uh, stop it!” Dawson says immediately, looking around. “That sound is only for my ears, love.” He says so seriously.

“I’m sorry, babe.” You giggle swallowing your bite.

“S’Okay, but hurry up, so we get in the house as soon as possible, okay?” Dawson stands up, and stands in front of you, shielding you from the sun. You look up at him your eyes are squinted from the light.

“Thank you.” Your words are muffled by the food in your mouth. Dawson nods his eyes, sipping from his drink.

When you’re done with your food and milkshake, you finally make your way inside the section. You’re currently walking over the human Winnie the Pooh when Dawson lets go of your hand. Not caring you keep looking around you in awe. But when you turn around after a few minutes, Winnie is in front of you, down on one knee, and in one of his hands is a black box. Confused you look around looking for Dawson. Of course when you hear his laugh, from the costume, tears sprung in your eyes.   

Dawson takes off the head, a wide smile on his lips as he’s looking up at you, sparkle in his eyes.

“Y/n we’ve been together for five years and not once I doubt your love and mine. I knew the first time I saw you dancing in that bar I knew you would somehow change my life, but I didn’t expect you to change it so much. The night I met you, my life turned from black and white into a spectrum of colors and I’m so glad for it. You taught me how to love myself, and how to be grateful for every win and loss because losing makes me stronger and wiser. Y/N I LOVE YOU MUCH. And as Leo vowed to Paige, ‘I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love,’.” He stops for a while to take in breath before he finally says the four words. You are already crying like a baby from that speech. Because fuck…you know how much he hates this film even though you love it, and he remembers the phrase. “Will you marry me?” his voice is now shaky, his hands opening the box revealing a silver ring with ruby in the middle of it.

You start nodding your head not trusting your voice. But when he stands up you let out a sob with a laugh. “Yes, yes, yes. I’ll marry you.” You hug him around his neck, pulling as close as it’s possible. Applause interrupts around you, making you two pull away. You laugh at the people watching you, some even filming this. You look at Dawson again, kissing him so passionately he stumbles backward laugh escaping his slips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers on your lips, hugging you tightly in himself. “Wanna try the ring on?” he whispers in your ear pulling away from you slightly.

“Yeah.” You nod your head wiping the tears away. Dawson takes the ring in his hand sliding it on your ring finger, your eyes welling up with tears over again. “I love you, Dawson, so much.” You choke on your sob.

“And I love you, baby. So fucking much!” he dips his head down, kissing you softly with a smile on his lips. “Let’s go enjoy the rest of the trip.” He pulls away looking over to a guy who was probably in the costume before him. He strips from it handing it to the guy thanking him.

The rest of the day, you couldn’t keep your eyes from the ring sitting on your finger, feeling so happy for the man who placed it on.

[stargirlwrites]

Not just s-ex

Jungkook x f.reader

-> slight amut, angst, fluff

-> warnings: TW! - mentions of r4pe. , unprotected sex, slut shaming, angry Jungkook, high sex drive reader, crying, they get into nasty argument :(

☆ ------ ︻╦╤─ ҉ -¨ * ‧₊˚*♡ * *” ♡. ♡ ------ ☆

Jungkook didn't know what to do about you. When you first told him about having a high sex drive he didn't think much of it. He lost his virginity to you, he didn't know anything else but you so he understood everything about your body, but recently you've been asking for sex way more than you usually do.

You two spend more time having sex than actually hanging out together. So he's going to confront you in the nicest way possible.

-

"F-faster please koo!" You whine out as Jungkooks cock hits every right spot inside of you, you swear he's all inside your tummy. Making you feel euphoric.

His hips snap against yours as he feels you clenching around him, knowing you're about to cum. You feel his thrust get sloppier as you let out high pitched screams, not caring about the neighbors. It wasn't short after until Jungkook gave you your third cream pie of the night. Yay unprotected sex your favorite. (Don't do it you'll die.)

After you two were finished, Jungkook was exhausted. You two went at it for 3 rounds and he is completely out of it. You two cleaned yourselves up and changed the cum stained sheets. Jungkook layed down on his spot, holding you close as he kisses you goodnight and tries to close his eyes to drift away in his own little dream land. Until he felt you shift and move onto his body.

He opens his eyes and let's out a little sigh. Of course you're still horny. Of course you still want to have sex.

"Baby.. look we'll do it tomorrow night I promise I'm just very tired so-" You cut him off with your bratty little voice

"Mmm but I want you s-so so.. so bad. Want it again" you started to rub yourself against Jungkooks soft crotch. You and Jungkook usually do this. You thought he was just doing the silly little foreplay like usually.. but he wasn't.

His hands gently hold your hips still, preventing you from making any movement. You pout your lips and remove his hands, putting them on your breast instead

"You can have me all the time. Always want you.." you started to grind on his crotch again, letting out small moans when your clit rubs against his clothed cock.

His once soft hands turn aggressive, you yelp when you feel jungkook slightly above you off of him. It actually kind of hurt he wasn't being very gentle.

"Ohhh I know what you want" you giggle and try to remove Jungkooks boxers, still thinking it'd apart of your little foreplay you two usually do, forgetting about his harsh grip.

Jungkook sighs angrily and grips your wrist and shoves you harder away from him. His grip was hard and left redness on your wrist. You yelp a small "Jungkook.." before he responds

"God damn it ___ can you stop being a horny freak for once and leave my cock alone Jesus christ." You didn't know you were going something wrong. You thought he wanted to..

"I- ... I thought-.. this was never a problem before I mean-"

"No, maybe if you weren't such a fucking slut begging for dick every hour this wouldn't be a problem. You're a whore. No self respect for yourself what so ever."

You couldn't believe Jungkook was this mad with you. If he would have actually talked to you before hand you wouldn't do anything he's uncomfortable with, never.

Tears escape your eyes as you make tiny sobs but Jungkooks mouth keeps running. His mouth keeps going as he gets up and starts dressing, like he's going somewhere. This only makes your breathing get harder.

"Do you even know all the stories I heard about you? All the men that's confessed of being inside of you without protection? They even had evidence, everyone at my fucking Job knows. That's why I fear fucking you raw, don't know what kind of disease I'll catch."

And that's where he crossed the line.

You wrap your body in your fluffy pink robe, quickly getting up to face him. His irritated face faces your pink puffy one with tears streaming down.

You slap him.

"How fucking dare you. How could you s-say that to me. I know I have a problem I'm sorry. Maybe if you just talk to me this wouldn't be a problem. I... I w-was fucking räpĕd by .. by 4 boys in high-school and they never got punishment for it. Sorry that it'll fuck me up in ways."

Jungkooks eyes widen when he hears his words. Well he's a fucking asshole. Before he could say anything you beat him to his problem pity words

"Don't care what you say. Don't want to see you please leave, we can talk later. Not tonight."

-

That night you went to bed alone. For the first time in 2 years you slept in bed without him by your side. It was a long night. Thoughts rambling in both of your minds, Regret and pain. You regretted taking your past sexual frustration on him and not telling him your dark past. It was painful. Jungkook regretted saying all those nasty things to you and not listening to the screams of help you silently screamed. It was painful because he hurt the one he truly loved. He hurt you and it hurt him to know that you were hurt. It hurts him to see you crumble apart because of him.

It wasn't that long after Jungkook stopped crashing at his cousins soyeons place. You and him talked it out. You opened up to him completely and he listened. He reminded you how much he loved you. He reminded not just you but himself how much of a fucking idiot he is.

You're getting help with your high sex drive problem. Of course you and Jungkook still have sex, just instead of every day its twice a week. It feels good. It feels good knowing that you can feel good without sexual acts. That you can feel good with the one you love, and his name is Jeon Jungkook.

-

( hope you guys enjoyed this. It's short but it's something. Love all of y'all and thank you so much for reading my fics. I have longer ones coming soon!! You can always leave requests too <3!!) - stargirl ☆

*Jungkook is so babygirl I need to write more sub!jk.*