#it’s been years too i don’t think i should

[delugyu]

pining with a hundred hearts

summary: Confessing to you should be easy. Kai’s got his whole speech prepared, having gone over it about a million times in his head now. All he has to do now is say it exactly as rehearsed. As long as he keeps his cool and doesn’t veer off script, or say something stupid and thoughtless like—“Do you wanna hook up?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

…Yeah. Like that.

pairings: huening kai x fem!reader

word count: 11.3k

tags: fluff, smut (mdni), friends to lovers, best friend!kai, yeonjun being a mediocre wingman and the biggest dudebro on earth, kai is a ball of anxiety, a couple religious metaphors, incredible amounts of pining

smut tags: multiple smut scenes… this is only like one step above pwp okay, switch!kai, switch!reader, dry humping, choking (m rec.), unprotected sex, oral (f rec.), car sex, sooo muchhh kissinggg, praise, spit kink kinda, handjob for a second, multiple orgasms

notes: thanks again to this anon for the idea! yes this is another best friend fic i’m sorry i can’t help that this is what calls to me. anyway i hope u luv thisssss!

Kai’s staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, wondering if he should go run and buy flowers or if that would be too corny. He examines his appearance with a critical eye, not wanting to look the slightest bit unattractive when he sees you. A small strand of hair falls into his face, and he pushes it back until he looks perfect again. He tries to imagine how he’d look with a bouquet in his hand.

“Dude, the harder you try, the worse you look.” Kai turns to Yeonjun with a frown, putting his hand back to his side and releasing the imaginary flowers. He deflates when he sees Yeonjun’s unamused expression.

“I’m not good at this stuff like you, though. I don’t know how to ask girls out,” Kai says, moving to sit beside Yeonjun on the edge of the bathtub. He brought Yeonjun here to cheer him on, not to make him feel worse about himself. Kai’s confidence is dwindling the longer he spends in Yeonjun’s presence.

Yeonjun ruffles Kai’s hair, and Kai immediately swats his hand away, scolding him for ruining the hair he had perfectly in place. Kai stretches his neck out to look at himself in the mirror again. He pouts when he sees the mess Yeonjun made.

“Just be normal. She’s your best friend, she’s not gonna bite your head off,” Yeonjun reasons.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kai says. “Her biting my head off might actually be better. I’m scared of her rejecting me.”

Yeonjun smiles at Kai, making Kai scrunch his brows. It feels like there’s some joke he’s not in on. Before he can ask, Yeonjun’s pushing himself up and off the bathtub, stretching out his legs. Kai looks up at him, wondering how to be even half as carefree as him.

“I’m exhausted,” Yeonjun sighs, looking out the window. Kai doesn’t know what for—only twenty minutes have passed, it definitely wouldn’t be dark out yet. “Let’s just go to her place now.”

Kai’s eyes bug out. “Now?! I’m not ready!”

Yeonjun laughs, “I can promise you that she doesn’t care how you look.” He leaves the bathroom then, and Kai feels like he has no choice but to follow.

He’s so worried, he can’t stop thinking about how you might react to his confession. What if you don’t feel the same? That would crush Kai, but he would never make you feel like you have to say yes to him. He just really, really wants the feeling to be mutual.

Suddenly he’s walking outside with Yeonjun, and he knows exactly where Yeonjun plans on taking him. He recites his confession under his breath, making sure he remembers it all still. I’ve been in love with you for years, I can’t imagine my life spent beside anyone but you, and I really hope you’ll be my girlfriend. Whew, he’s still got it.

“Stop freaking out so much,” Yeonjun says from beside him, snapping Kai back to reality. He blinks at his friend, processing what he said for a few seconds.

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Yes you are, dude. You’re, like, hyperventilating next to me.”

“Oh god, I’m hyperventilating?!” There’s no way he can confess to you like this! He imagines how gross it would be for you to hear him declare his love for you through jagged breaths. He turns around abruptly, ready to walk back home.

Yeonjun stops him with a hand gripping his shirt. “No backing out,” he says, pulling Kai back to him.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Kai says, shaking his head with panicked eyes.

Yeonjun grounds Kai with his hands on his shoulders, making sure he’s looking him in the eyes. “If you don’t do this today, you never will. I’m not letting you walk away now.”

Kai sighs and drops his head in defeat. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go.”

Time passes way too quickly, and Kai finds himself standing at your door much too soon. Yeonjun abandons him as soon as your apartment is in sight, telling Kai he’ll be waiting for his success story when he comes back. Kai’s heart is pounding. He really hopes there ends up being a success story to tell.

He’s scrambling around for the words in his brain, making sure he doesn’t choke on them as soon as you open the door. I love you, I don’t want anyone but you, please be my girlfriend—something like that. He’s in the midst of a breathing exercise to calm himself down when the door swings open. He flinches, straightening his posture and sending you a smile.

“Hi Kai,” you say, backing up so he’ll come inside. Is he shaking? It feels like he’s shaking.

“Hi. I have something to tell you.” He wants to slap himself. Why'd he say it like that?! Does he think he’s the grim reaper or something, delivering some message of death?! He sounds so ominous, you must be so scared.

“Alright, let’s go to my room then.” You don’t sound shaken at all. You must be really good at hiding that you’re scared.

When he’s sitting across from you on your bed, he can clearly feel the way his body’s shaking. He almost wants to jump off the mattress so you don’t feel the way he trembles. You’ve done this a million times before, sharing your bed and staring at each other, but it feels so different this time.

You look around the room awkwardly in the midst of Kai’s prolonged silence, then start scrolling through your phone. You’re bored—he’s boring you, he needs to get on with it, this is already going wrong.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to him. He opens his mouth and already starts stuttering on his words. He shuts up immediately, racking his brain for his confession again, and freaking out when he can’t find it.

“Kai? What’d you wanna tell me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He just has to spit it out now. He can’t waste your time any longer. He prays the words will just find him if he opens his mouth and starts speaking.

“Do you wanna hook up with me?” he blurts out, wide-eyed and shaking.

Fear crashes upon him so fast. That’s not what he meant to say. He feels the world crumbling around him, and he prays the universe is kind enough to swallow him whole.

Your silence is horrifying him, but he can’t blame you. He should probably see himself out now. You aren’t going to want anything to do with him ever again.

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” you ask.

Kai gulps. “Um, yes.”

You look him up and down. “You’re shaking so much.” Kai looks down at himself to check. Yep, he sure is.

“Sorry,” he says.

“Are you a virgin?” He can’t be surprised that you asked that; he’s making himself look like the biggest loser ever right now.

“No,” he answers shakily. He’s not super experienced, but he’s definitely not a virgin. He can barely stand looking at you as he waits for your answer, feeling your rejection creeping up on him.

You shrug. “Alright, we can hook up.”

Kai feels his brain start to malfunction all over again. He wasn’t expecting you to agree. You were supposed to scold him and slap him and kick him out of your apartment for asking something so heinous. He’s not sure what to do now. It’s not like he can back out of this—or like he wants to.

“So… can I kiss you?” he asks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah.” He wipes the sweat off his palms onto his jeans before he leans in to start closing the gap between you. He lets his face hover a few inches away from yours, taking in your beauty from this close up. You’re so pretty that he already feels himself getting hard just looking at you like this. He stares at your lips, thinking about all the hours he’s spent dreaming of how they’d feel against his.

A voice in his head urges him to run away and hide. What if he’s not good enough for you? What if he doesn’t make you cum? Maybe he should just apologize for saying anything and blame it on being drunk or something.

You push forward before he can pull away, and suddenly your lips are on his and fireworks are going off everywhere. Or at least that’s how it feels, Kai doesn’t know—half of his thinking prowess is in his dick right now.

The poets were right, a kiss with your true love does feel different. This is a high Kai has never felt before, one that leaves him lightheaded and struggling to cling onto reality. God is real, the universe is good, and he’ll devote himself to worshipping you for the rest of his life.

His hands find your face with a feather-light touch, unsure how far he should go just yet. One hand tangles itself in your hair, using gentle force to press your face closer to his. He wants to feel your soul enter his body, to become so intertwined that your beings blend into one.

He grants your tongue access into his mouth as soon as he feels you licking at his lips. He has half a mind to be embarrassed by the whine he emits when you deepen the kiss, mentally scolding himself for being so pathetic. He shivers when your hands fall onto his shoulders, completely weakened by your touch. He’ll let you go as far as you want, he’ll give you the world.

You pull away to catch your breath, staring him down like you’re some hungry wolf. Kai wishes that it didn’t turn him on as much as it did. To see your eyes dark and wanting for him makes blood rush to his cock. This is something Kai’s waited years for, and it does wonders for his confidence, if only for a moment.

He drags you back to him, capturing your lips yet again. There’s more heat in his movements this time, conveying all his attraction to you through tongue and teeth. He licks into your mouth, wanting more, needing more, aching to get you delirious off his touch. His hands start moving down your body, dipping below your shirt to hold onto your bare waist. Your skin is warm and soft, and it feels like territory that Kai needs to explore.

He bites your lip and soothes the sting with a swipe of his tongue, then places another quick kiss to your lips. You look like something out of his wildest dreams, your lips wet and swollen and your eyes blown out with lust. He must not be faring any better. Your eyes dart to the bulge in his pants, and Kai feels a smidge of humiliation that you can see how he’s already fully hard. If a little bit of making out is enough to get him like this, he really has to pull himself together for when you actually touch him.

You push down on Kai’s shoulders until his back meets the mattress. He stares up at you and bites his lip, waiting for your next move. There’s a million different things you could do right now, and he thinks he’d be okay with any of them. You could throw your clothes to the floor and ride his face, you could shove his pants down his legs and tug at his cock, you could sit on his lap and just kiss him some more—hell, you could do nothing but sit there and look pretty and Kai would eventually burst.

“So what made you suddenly decide to hook up with me?” you ask while you situate yourself on his lap. He gasps as you let your hips fall into a slow grind over him. He curses the number of layers separating you two, wanting nothing more than to feel you directly. His hands fall to your thighs, gripping the soft flesh.

“I just…” It’s hard for him to find his words when he’s so focused on the sight of you on top of him. He’s fantasized about this countless times, but none of his imaginations could compare to this.

You laugh and let a hand trail up his chest, stopping at his throat to hold it in a loose grasp. He doesn’t want to be a pervert and beg for you to close your fist, but the idea of you choking him while grinding on top of him has his dick twitching in his jeans. The light pressure isn’t enough, he’d let you go all the way if you wanted.

“You just what?” you coax, smiling at him. He doesn’t know if you meant to be condescending or coddling, but either way it leaves him gripping onto your thighs a little tighter to keep his composure. His tongue is useless, no words find him when you’re toying with him like this. “Tell me, I wanna know,” you press. Kai doesn’t have it in him to create some lie on the spot.

“I-it’s kinda hard to think right now,” Kai says, hands moving up to your hips to try to urge you to move a little faster.

“I can stop, then,” you say, pausing your movements.

“No!” He presses his hips up into you and uses his hands to continue grinding you against him. You squeeze his throat at that, which only makes him whimper and buck into you harder.

“Kai,” you scold, and he finally listens and calms down. It takes a lot of willpower to lay still beneath you. You’re so tempting, he can’t help but try to relieve the strain in his pants.

“It’s just been a while, and… you’re really hot, so,” he explains as he tries to control his breathing.

You give an unsatisfied hum. “So you chose me just cause I’m hot and available?”

Kai squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. He thinks you’re doing this on purpose. “No. You’re my best friend, and I trust you, that’s why. Please move,” he says, trying to urge your hips forward again. He’s a little surprised at how easily he can hide the fact that he was originally planning on asking you out today. Being this horny must grant him superpowers.

You sit there for a moment, pondering his words. Those ten seconds feel like torture, but you’re undoing his pants as soon as you decide his answer was satisfactory, and it makes everything worth it. You push them halfway down his thighs before tugging your own shorts off, and Kai’s hands work quickly to feel up the exposed skin.

You’re back to grinding on him, but this time less clothes separate you. It’s still far too much, though; Kai needs to feel skin on skin. His fingers pry at your panties and try to tug them off, but you swat his hands away. He looks up at you with the most pitiful look he can muster, and it only serves to make you laugh at him like he’s some handsy perv. He blushes a little, letting his hands fall back onto your thighs.

“You just can’t wait, huh?” you taunt, hands sliding up his stomach and chest until his shirt is pulled as far up as it will go. You stare at his body with a bitten lip and dark eyes, and the intensity makes Kai shudder.

“I-I can wait,” he counters, rubbing his thumbs on your skin, keeping his hands right where they are to show that he’s being good. If all you’ll give him is some grinding and heavy petting, then he’ll be happy to just shut up and take it. He needs to prove himself to you, to show you that he can be whatever you want him to be. If you want him to be quiet and lay down like a toy, he’ll be ten steps ahead of you, leaning back on the mattress waiting to be used. If you want him to throw you around and treat you like a whore, he’ll show you strength like no one else has. This is about doing everything exactly how you want.

“How cute,” you coo, letting your nails lightly rake down his torso, stopping once your fingers are at his boxers. You let your finger run over the hem teasingly, just tracing it back and forth with no care as to how much this is torturing Kai. His hips rut up without his permission, body acting on its own accord, and he’s worried for a second that you might scold him.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, but his body betrays him again. He swears he’s not intent on making himself look so pathetic and horny—this is just what you do to him.

“Do you need me now?” you ask, snapping the waistband of his boxers playfully. He whines and nods, squeezing your hips with need. “How bad?”

“So bad I could cry,” he says. You laugh, and he panics.

“Then cry.” His eyes widen. He knows you’re serious when you still your hips over him once more, crossing your arms and grinning down at him. You’re such a tease, he might just die.

“Please, please use me!” If you want him to beg, he’ll put on a whole damn show. He holds you in place above him so he can roll his hips up into yours, making sure your clit catches on the head of his cock each time. His grip is bruising, and your gasps are like music to his ears. He can’t stop now, he’s insatiable. “Hnng—I’ll cum in my boxers if you don’t let me inside you now,” he whines, giving you a particularly rough thrust.

He’s thankful that you don’t push him away again when his hands scramble to yank your panties off. He pulls them down your legs and throws them hastily somewhere off the bed. He flips the two of you over so you’re lying on the mattress, and you’re giggling at him while he loses his mind above you. He takes off the rest of his clothes as fast as he can, itching to feel your hands all over his skin.

He’s panting by the time he’s finally got his dick in his hands, stroking it and spreading his precum down his shaft. You’re way too beautiful beneath him, and the fear of not lasting long enough to make you cum is making him feel incredibly insecure. You’re way too good for him. Oh god. He has so much to prove, so much to live up to.

He tries to dive down between your legs, figuring he could at least get you to cum on his tongue to ease his worries. He’s stopped by your fist in his hair, pulling him back up before he could even get eye-level with your pussy. His fingers are quick to separate your folds then, rubbing up your slit persistently.

“Let me prepare you,” he says, moving his head down again. He only gets to nibble your thigh before you’re giggling and pulling his head away.

“I’m ready,” you insist, spreading your legs a little wider. His head spins. You’re insane. Now he’s really in danger of cumming too soon—like, before he even sticks it in. He leans his head onto your shoulder, trying to get a hold of himself. His fingers swipe rapidly at your clit, trying to get you as close to the edge as he is. He can’t embarrass himself. He has to be good for you.

Your legs shake and close over his hand, and you try tugging him by the wrist to push him away, but he’s too intent on making you cum to be deterred by that. “Fuck, Kai, stop, you’re gonna..!” Your voice is getting high-pitched and whiny, and your pleas for mercy are really only working against you; if anything, it only motivates Kai further.

“It’s okay, just let go,” he urges, watching your face to see if you’re close. Your eyebrows are upturned, eyes glazed over with lust, and suddenly you look a lot less like a hungry wolf and more like a poor little lamb. He realizes then that the most important thing in the world right now is getting you to fall apart under him.

“Ah—oh, god,” you cry, hips rolling up into his hand as he keeps his relentless pace. He watches arousal drip from your empty cunt, leaking down to the mattress, and it’s the most enticing sight Kai’s ever laid eyes on.

“Come on, cum for me. Promise to stuff you so good when you do,” Kai urges, feeling dizzy at the sight of your twitching body. You must be so close. Every part of him aches for your climax.

“Fuck, cumming..!” you gasp out, grasping onto Kai’s arm for dear life. He loves this feeling, it’s like you need him, like he saved you, like he showed you divinity. It gets too much to his head, and he knows at that moment that he just became addicted. He’ll keep searching for this high for the rest of his life.

He lets up once your body starts convulsing too hard, using his hand to gently hold your waist down instead. He looks at you like you’re something magnificent. A part of him still wonders if this is real or not, but his mind could never make up something this life-changing.

He leans down to kiss you, something deep and hungry, portraying all the need that’s nestled its way into his being. Your hands find his shoulders easily, and it feels like they were meant to be there. Kai thinks your bodies must have been made to touch each other.

You pull away from the kiss, smiling up at him like a little devil. “I thought you said you were gonna fill me up now?”

Something about you saying that makes everything seem much more real all of a sudden. Anxiety strikes its way back into Kai’s stomach, and he doesn’t know if he is greater parts fear or lust when his hand finds his dick again.

“I will,” he promises, and he prays you don’t hear the shake in his voice. He holds back a gasp when he brings his tip to your entrance. You’re soaked, and he feels the way your hole flutters pathetically for him. You need him. He almost feels possessed at the thought.

He bites his lip hard as he starts to push in. He’s trying not to get ahead of himself, but you’re so easy to get drunk in. You’re so tight, he would have stuffed you with his fingers if he’d known you’d be squeezing him like a vice.

He bottoms out with a gruff moan, holding onto your waist for dear life. He can’t believe this. He’s inside you. He’s in love with you. He’s as close to you as he could possibly be. The physical world constrains him from tying your souls together infinitely, but the intimacy of this is almost good enough.

How does he prove himself worthy for you? He feels himself getting lost more and more in a fantastical world in which you love him too, and the two of you are making love. But that’s not what this is. You just want him to fuck you.

His hands trail down to your hips, holding you still as he starts to pull out a bit. He’ll give you what you want. He’ll prove himself capable, make sure you know how well he can satisfy you. He’d spend a lifetime making you believe him if he could.

Your breath catches when Kai bottoms out again in a hard thrust. “You’re big,” you say with a little giggle, hands coming up to rest on Kai’s shoulders.

“T-thanks.” He doesn’t know if you’re laughing at his stutter or at his response, but either way it makes his face flush. He fucks into you at a steady pace now, slow enough to keep himself from cumming.

Your hand trails up to the nape of his neck to grip his hair, and it makes Kai whine. You roll your hips up into him, meeting his thrusts deliciously, tugging harder at his hair when he speeds up a little. You’re making things really hard for Kai right now. He wants to give you the best time of your life, but you keep hypnotizing him with how sexy you are.

He can’t be selfish. He brings a thumb to your clit and relishes in the way you groan out at the stimulation. “Just like that,” you praise, clutching onto him a little more desperately.

“Wanna be good for you,” he says, letting his hips buck harder against you. He’s never felt so brainless in his life; he only acts on instinct as he chases his orgasm and your own. There’s a primal urge to claim you, to paint your walls with his seed.

Your back arches up into him, like you’re presenting yourself fully to him. His free hand snakes up your shirt to find your tits, playing with them as he pleases, watching your reactions to everything. You look so overwhelmed. Your mouth hangs open with broken whines as Kai keeps stimulating you, and the sight has his stomach clenching in threat of climaxing soon.

“Kai,” you moan, accompanied by some garble of words that he can’t quite decipher. He doesn’t know if that’s because you’re unintelligible from how good you feel, or if it’s because he’s so far off in his own need to make you cum that everything else is blurred out.

Your walls start tightening around him now, and he knows you’re cumming when you throw your head back with a cry. He almost bursts inside you at that moment. He feels like something more than human, like only the most divine of beings should be able to see things like this. He burns the image in his mind.

“Where can I cum?” he asks, jackhammering into you as he chases his high. You’re whimpering from the overstimulation, but Kai thinks you can take it for just a few more moments.

“A-anywhere,” you stutter out. For the first time, Kai thinks you look breakable. He has a scary thought of wanting to ruin you.

“Inside you?” he asks, coming down to mouth at your neck. You whimper when he bottoms out again and grinds against you.

“Wherever you want,” you say.

Fuck. It’s that same second he spills inside you, almost as if your words were what allowed him to cum. He groans into your shoulder, hands squeezing at your flesh while your cunt milks him dry. He will never get closer to heaven than this.

He’s not sure how many minutes have passed by the time he’s picking himself back up, hovering over you, still sheathed inside your walls. All he knows is that you look even more beautiful now than you have before, and the urge to confess his love to you falls over him once again.

“Is this gonna change things?” Kai asks. He hopes you say yes. He hopes he made you see him in a new light, that you suddenly realized he’s the man of your dreams and you need him to be with you forever.

“No,” you answer, running your fingers through his hair. “But we probably will fuck again. That was mind-blowing.”

Kai’s still a little too hazy to process that. “Alright,” he says. He collapses back down on you, figuring he would take advantage of the moment and hold you like this a little longer.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Admittedly, Kai didn’t think this through very well. He’s pacing around his bedroom, going on and on to Yeonjun about how much he messed up and how scared he is to see you again. Yeonjun lays on Kai’s bed, much more relaxed than Kai is.

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Yeonjun says. Kai can’t believe how he can be so casual about this. “You can still tell her how you feel.”

“No I can’t! I should have told her before we had sex, this is a nightmare!” Kai holds his head in his hands, trying to keep it from exploding. The amount of stress he feels right now is probably enough to guarantee him heart problems later in life.

“She won’t care, dude. Just tell her you choked,” Yeonjun reassures. It does very little to comfort Kai, though.

“I’m not gonna tell her. I don’t think I can.”

“Yes you can. If you don’t tell her, I’ll ask her out myself.” Kai’s not sure if Yeonjun’s threat is legit, but it strikes a bit of fear in his heart anyway.

“I’ll tell her in, like, a month. That’s enough time, right?”

“Why not tomorrow?” Yeonjun counters.

“Are you crazy?! We had sex two days ago! If I tell her tomorrow, I’m gonna look pussy-whipped!”

Yeonjun laughs, “Well…”

Kai rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not telling her until next month.”

“You’re just gonna push that date back over and over again. Get it over with sooner, that way you don’t have to worry about it all the time,” Yeonjun explains.

“You don’t get it. This is hard for me. Have you even been in love before?” Kai asks, pausing in front of the bed so he can look Yeonjun in the eye when he answers.

“I guess not,” Yeonjun says, shrugging like he doesn’t see how that would matter. “You know I give good advice about dating, though. I can look at it objectively because I’ve never been in love.”

Kai doesn’t have a response to that—not because Yeonjun’s right, but because he thinks Yeonjun’s reasoning is so ridiculous. Yeonjun doesn’t understand what it’s like to feel even a quarter of the yearning Kai holds for you. He doesn’t know a fraction of the fear of losing you.

Yeonjun starts up again, “You’re seeing her tomorrow anyway, so you might as well.”

Kai shakes his head. “I can’t. I can barely handle seeing her tomorrow as is.”

Yeonjun sits up, clearly taking the conversation more seriously now. “Why though? You act like you’re so doomed, but I guarantee you that hooking up once isn’t something to cry about.”

“That’s the problem, it wasn’t just a hook up for me. I will never be the fucking same again. I literally can’t move on.” Mild irritation laces all of Kai’s words.

“Then take a step back and chill out. The more you stress about this, the worse you’re going to make things,” Yeonjun says. He still sounds so unphased about it all. Kai wishes he could make him see how pressing this really is, how this actually feels like life or death for him.

“How am I gonna take a step back when I see her and talk to her all the time?” Kai asks. That’s just scratching the surface; he doesn’t even mention how his every thought goes back to you, how everything in the world reminds him of you one way or another. His devotion toward you feels like it’s embedded in his bones, like it’s part of his wiring. There is no him without an undying love for you—the two cannot be separated.

“I don’t know, dude. I don’t wanna sound like a dick, but if you don’t want my help, figure it out on your own,” Yeonjun says, exhausted.

Equally exhausted, Kai sinks down the wall until he’s sat on the floor. “Let’s just stop talking about this for now,” Kai sighs out.

It’s quiet in the room for a minute as the tension slowly dissipates. Then, Yeonjun chimes in again with a five-star idea: “Wanna get drinks?”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Kai thought he’d be too scared to see you today, but he proves himself to be horribly wrong. As soon as you call him telling him to come over, the only anxiety he feels is in the form of antsiness to see you again. He doesn’t waste a second before driving to your apartment. He could walk, but that would just be more time lost.

He realizes the moment he walks into your bedroom that maybe he shouldn’t have been so careless before coming here.

Your eyes fall to his shirt. “Is that One Direction?”

“No.” He looks down at his shirt only to see the five boy band members staring back at him. He looks back at you, hopefully concealing the fear he feels from his face. “Yes.”

You laugh. Oh god, do you think he’s a loser?

“It’s my sister’s shirt,” he explains quickly. “It was too big for her, so she gave it to me.”

“Please go out in public wearing that,” you say. “I’ll literally treat you to lunch right now.”

Kai feels his face flushing in embarrassment. “I don’t even like One Direction!”

“You do now! I think I’m in the mood for a discography dive, actually,” you laugh. Kai hides his face in his hands as he trudges his way over to you, falling backward onto your bed. He feels your hand run through his hair as your laughter dies down.

“Do you have any of my sweatshirts here?” Kai asks, even though he knows you do.

“Nooooo, I don’t want you taking those from me,” you whine.

“You’ll get it back, I just don’t want to go out like this.” You pout at him before getting up and rummaging through your closet. You throw a sweatshirt at him when you find one, and Kai is quick to throw it on once it lands in his lap.

“It feels like a crime for you to be covering them up,” you say, brushing your hand over where One Direction’s faces once were.

“It would feel like more of a crime letting people think I’m a modern-day Directioner.” Kai relishes in the way you laugh at that.

“You’d be such a Niall girl,” you say with an amused glint in your eye.

“I don’t even know which one Niall is.”

“He’s”—

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” he cuts you off.

“Fine. No one ever wants to talk One Direction with me anyway.”

Kai laughs, and he’s a little starstruck by how pretty you look when you smile at him like this. “Where do you wanna go today?” he asks, changing the conversation.

You shrug. “We can just drive to the city and see what’s around,” you offer.

“Do you wanna just head out now then?”

“Let me get ready and then we can,” you say, getting off the bed.

It’s a miracle how normal Kai’s been able to act so far. He still looks away when you change your clothes, wanting to be respectful, but he wonders if there’s even a point to it anymore. His face heats up when he thinks about how you said you’ll probably have sex with him again.

Yeonjun’s words from yesterday come back to Kai, how he seemed so confident that Kai should confess to you today. For a second, he considers it. Yeonjun’s so much better with girls than Kai is, it would probably be stupid to not take his advice. But then Kai remembers that there’s no stakes when Yeonjun talks to girls; he doesn’t go after his best friend like Kai does, he goes after random girls at random parties that he’ll never see again.

For Kai’s own good, and for the sake of your friendship, he can’t tell you today. Even if it means swallowing down his compliments when you come to him all ready to go. Even if it means staying silent while being at risk of going into cardiac arrest, heart beating rapidly from how pretty you look in the passenger seat of his car.

Kai makes the mistake of letting you control the music on the ride there. He conveys his disappointment with a single glance to you when he hears you play What Makes You Beautiful. You’re grinning so hard that your cheeks must hurt, but your joy is contagious, and Kai finds himself smiling against his will.

“What? It’s your favorite band!” you tease. You turn up the volume as the chorus hits, singing the lyrics to him. Kai can’t help but laugh. He might have to buy a hundred more stupid t-shirts if this is what he’ll get every time.

Once you arrive downtown, Kai walks with you as you look for an intriguing store. He usually lets you pick out what shops you enter, but he catches sight of a building that calls out to him. “Let’s go here,” Kai suggests, motioning toward the sign on the store.

“Palm reading? Since when did you get so spiritual?” you ask.

Kai looks at you for a second, admiring your smile. “I just think it might be fun,” he says. “You don’t like it?”

You shrug. “I’m just not super into it. I’m down to watch you get your palm read, though.”

The shop is typical for a spirituality store—there’s crystals, tarot cards, incense, and everything else Kai usually sees at these places. He walks to the woman managing the register at the back, eyeing the board behind her that displays their services.

“Oh wow, they do mediumship here,” you say quietly as you follow behind Kai. “What the hell is an aura reading?” There’s a bit of amusement in your voice, and Kai hopes the worker doesn’t hear you.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done those,” he whispers back to you. He smiles when the woman behind the counter comes up to him, greeting her quietly.

“How can I help you?” she asks.

“Could we do one of those palm readings?” Kai says, pointing up at the text on the board describing the palm reading service.

“Just that? Would you like me to look at anything else?”

“Just the palm reading,” Kai answers. The woman calls out another worker to watch the store, then directs you and Kai to a room at the back.

“Oh, this room is tiny. It’s like a closet,” you say with a laugh, and Kai hopes the woman knows that you say this with no malice. She motions for the two of you to take a seat at the small table in the room. The chairs aren’t very comfortable—they’re pretty hard, and they squeak when you both sit in them, but Kai thinks of it as another charm to the place.

There’s a lot of unlit candles in the room, and the light instead comes from a lamp that stands in the corner of the room, casting the room in a yellowish glow. Spiritual posters line the walls, as well as shelves that hold huge crystals and other trinkets Kai doesn’t quite recognize. He looks to you for a second, to which you return his glance with a smile and a raise of your brows. His heart races a little, sickly sweet feelings for you rising in his stomach.

“Would you hold out your hands?” the woman says, and Kai immediately places his hands palm-up on top of the table. He suddenly feels nervous, as if he’s baring something as sacred as his soul rather than just his skin.

He’s not sure what he wants to hear today. He hasn’t done anything like this before, but the worker seems nice enough. Kai doesn’t know how to tell if someone is the real deal or not when it comes to spiritual stuff, but he trusts this woman’s vibes. She’s funky, in a good way.

He wonders if palm readings can say anything about love. With you right here, perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t ask.

The worker hums as she assesses Kai’s hands. He can feel them starting to get clammy from the nerves, antsy to just hear whatever she has to say. He hopes he doesn’t have bad fortunes.

The woman rests her thumb over a deep line that runs across Kai’s palm. “Your life line is very pronounced.”

Kai blinks at her. “What does that mean?”

She runs her finger over the full line. “It’s a long, deep line. Usually that means you’re energetic, and you’ll have a successful life. You might be good at sports too.”

You laugh beside him, and if his hands weren’t busy getting read by this lady he would’ve used them to shove you. “Please don’t mind her,” he says, feeling his face heat up.

“There’s just the capacity for you to be good at sports. And it doesn’t have to be a very physical sport,” she continues. Great—your laughter made the palm reader start scrambling for an explanation. She thinks he’s unathletic now.

“I am good at sports,” Kai says, feeling like he has to prove himself. “I like working out.”

“Yesss, and he loves bowling,” you add.

“What? She just made that up,” Kai defends. “I don’t like bowling.”

“He was a pro bowler in high school.”

“No. You’re a pro liar.” Kai is also failing to see why you find it important to sell this lie to the palm reader. He’s lucky enough that the reader doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your antics.

“You seem to have a lot of emotions,” she says, finger lying on one of the other prominent lines in Kai’s palm. He sees you smirking in his peripheral, and he tries his very best to ignore it. “Do you usually repress what you feel?”

Oh gosh. He makes a point to not look at you, but the first thing he thinks of is how he’s been holding in his feelings for you for years. He’s been bottling that up for a while—a lot of other emotions, too, but namely that one.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he answers with a nod, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“All the time,” you correct. “He rarely opens up.”

The palm reader hums in acknowledgement. “I can see that. You might want to work on expressing your emotions more. It’s not good to let everything sit in your body.” She looks him dead in the eye to make her point. Kai nods and gulps, feeling a little intimidated.

The reader releases Kai’s hands and turns her face to you. “Would you like a reading?” she asks. You wave your hand in denial.

“I’m alright, thank you. Hey, you got him dead on, though. Congrats,” you say, smiling at the lady and getting out of your chair.

“Thank you,” Kai says, fishing his wallet from his pants. “How much is this?”

“Ten dollars,” the woman answers, taking the cash from Kai when he hands it to her. He runs over to where you stand at the door, waiting for him with a smile. The moment the two of you step foot out of the building, you’re already going on about how fake and scammy this gig is.

“That lady was so full of shit. I could probably do this job. It was actually meant for me cause I love to lie,” you say. You stop walking and turn to face Kai. “Here, give me your hand.”

He hesitates for a second and braces himself for whatever insane story you’re about to come up with.

“Oh yeah, fingertips of a bowler,” you start. You cackle when Kai immediately tries yanking his hand from yours at that, but you keep a solid grip on his wrist. You trace over a line in his palm. “This one means you like long walks on the beach. And this one means you want to go back to the car and give me head.”

His interest is piqued. “For real?”

You drop his hand. “Yeah, says exactly that. That’ll be ten bucks.”

“I can think of a better way to pay you,” he says, unable to contain his grin. He takes your hand and speeds to his car. He doesn’t really care how desperate it makes him look. You’re giggling the whole way there, and the noise just goes straight to his cock. Maybe he is pussy-whipped.

He urges you into the backseat as soon as you make it to the car, getting in behind you and slamming the door shut, too eager to get his hands on you. Your smile doesn’t leave your face when he leans in to kiss you, but that doesn’t stop him at all. He cradles your jaw in his hand, keeping your face connected to his as he works his lips against yours.

“Hope no one catches us,” you giggle, only pulling away long enough to say that before being taken by Kai’s kiss again. Kai doesn’t let your words get to him; he’s too horny to think about anything besides boning you anyway.

Kai hovers over you, and there’s not much space in the backseat of his car, but he’ll sure as hell make it work if it means getting his face between your thighs. He wastes no time pulling down your jeans and your panties, yanking off your top and bra too so that you lay fully nude beneath him.

His eyes scan your body hungrily, taking in your skin at its most vulnerable. “You’re pretty,” he says as his hands find your tits, squeezing them and listening to you sigh at the feeling.

“J-just pretty?” you tease.

“And sexy,” Kai says, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it until he hears you whimper. “And so gorgeous,” he adds before moving to your other nipple. He’s greedy—he wants all your pleasure to be his own, for you to only associate sex and satisfaction with him.

You gasp and arch into him. Kai catches your movement, holding your back to keep you pressed close to him as he continues showing you how beautiful he thinks you are. He could spend lifetimes doing this. He was made to worship you.

Your hand curls in his hair, and Kai wonders if you could cum like this, just from some nipple stimulation. With the way you’re panting and moaning into the air, he thinks you might. He’ll have to try that someday. Today, it’s not enough. Today, he craves you more carnally. He starts dragging his lips down your body, trying not to smile in satisfaction when your breath hitches.

He brings his head between your legs, staring at you with intensity blazing in his eyes. He wonders if your skin is buzzing too. He wonders if you’ve never felt more alive than now, just like him.

“Can I?” he asks, gently maneuvering your legs to rest over his shoulders.

You lean up on your elbows to watch. “Mhm,” you hum with a small smile.

He can’t be bothered to tease you—it would probably be more torturous for him than you, anyway. He dives in right away, bringing his tongue to your folds and tightening his hold on your thighs. He can’t count how many times he’s jerked off to the thought of this. He doesn’t even care that he’s cramped in the tight space of his car, all he cares about is that he finally knows how you taste.

His tongue swirls at your clit, gliding along the bud with determination. He’s dying to feel your legs clamp around his head. He wants to be suffocating, to feel the air slowly leave him as he laps at your pussy. He grunts against you, moving down to tongue at your entrance.

He presses his face further into you, aching to get closer than what’s physically possible. He curls his tongue up inside you, huffing out a laugh when your thighs jolt at the sensation. He repeats the motion until he hears your moans get high-pitched and breathy, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. Nothing could be better than this.

Your hands grab at his hair, desperate and shaking and so needy, and he can’t help but feel the urge to take care of you. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” you ask, sounding all worked up. Kai thinks it’s very cute. He doesn’t answer, of course—he’s a little preoccupied.

Your words motivate him to go further, lapping at you with more fervor. His brain turns to mush, reduced to primal instinct that begs you to cum all over his tongue. He grips onto you tighter when your hips start running away, not letting you escape him. You whine out as he mouths at your pussy; it’s filthy and messy, but Kai couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to have you.

“Kai—Kai! Like that, shit, you’re so fucking good.” Your legs start closing around his head, and Kai thanks the universe for putting him in this position. You twitch and gasp as you get closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening in Kai’s hair.

He’s feral now, and his vision might be blacking out, but he fucking loves this. He doesn’t stop or slow down, and the payoff comes in the form of his name tumbling from your lips as you finally cum. He can’t get enough, continuing to lap at you even as you try to tug him away.

“I’m sensitive!” you yelp when he comes up to your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking until you cry. He doesn’t do it to be mean, he’s just so crazy about you. He wants you to cum over and over again, but you keep trying to pull him away, so he finally lets up.

He comes up to you for a kiss, taking your hand to hold it as he pants into your mouth. He doesn’t care about catching his breath. He doesn’t want to waste time on insignificant things like taking in air. He only wants to breathe you in, to be overwhelmed with the way you take over his senses.

Your free hand clumsily tries to push his pants down, and he resorts to helping you out after a few failed attempts. He doesn’t separate from the kiss for a second as he gets his cock out, lining it up to your entrance needily. He pumps his shaft in his hand as he sticks his tip in, eating up your moans as they pass from your mouth into his.

Maybe he’s too in his head, but this feels like more than sex between two friends. This feels too transformative to be anything casual. He pushes in further, breaking from the kiss to watch your face as he bottoms out. He brushes your hair back, then lets his hand rest on your cheek. His thumb rests over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You have beautiful lips.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth the same moment he starts thrusting inside you. He feels the vibrations of your moans as he fucks into you, groaning at the way you clench around him.

“You take me so well,” Kai grunts out, pushing his thumb down on your tongue so your mouth opens up. You look like a wet dream. He brings his other hand to your breasts, playing with your nipples. You mewl, and he finally takes his thumb from your mouth so he can kiss you again.

It doesn’t take long for him to feel ready to burst. He pinches your clit, trying to bring you to the edge with him. You tug his hair, pulling his face away so you can stare into his eyes as you get closer to cumming.

“Cum inside me,” you urge, sliding your hand down from his hair to his neck. You hold his throat in a possessive grasp, and Kai almost sees God in that moment. His hips buck into you faster, motivated by your fingers slowly tightening around him.

Kai bottoms out and bursts inside you with a moan, letting your walls squeeze around him and milk his cock. He moves his fingers over your clit rapidly until he feels you convulsing around his shaft; his head spins from both the noises you make as you orgasm and your hand around his neck.

You finally let go, and Kai gasps for air, leaning his head down into your shoulder as he rides out the last of your highs. He runs his hands all over your body, cherishing the feel of your bare flesh. He licks the skin at your neck and shoulder mindlessly, still foggy from how turned on he is.

He pulls out after a minute, pulling his head from your shoulder so he can watch the way his cum drips out of you. He grins at the sight, and he knows it’s perverted and gross, but he loves the way it spills out. He can’t have his cum dripping onto his car seats, though, so he has to put your panties back on and make sure your cunt keeps it all in.

“How you feeling?” you ask, still laying down and catching your breath.

“Good. That was so good,” Kai breathes out, staring at your lips, then your eyes.

You smile at him. “Is that all you want to say?” you ask.

No, it’s not. He wants to say he loves you. He wants to say that this means more to him than you know. He wants your lips beyond these slivers of moments, he wants your body beyond these hookups. Do you know that? Do you know he wants to say all that?

He grabs your hand and laces his fingers between yours. The lines embedded in his palms spell out a path that was fated for loving you. He’s more sure of this now than ever before. There’s his answer.

“That’s all,” Kai says.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“I don’t get it,” Yeonjun says. “Why’d you hook up with her again if it fucked you up so bad last time?”

Kai sighs, “Cause I’m stupid. I don’t know.”

Kai’s not sure how debriefing with Yeonjun after hanging out with you became such common practice, but it at least offers him some sort of reprieve from suffering alone. Now he doesn’t have to mope around crying about his lost chances with you. They’re sitting in Yeonjun’s car in the corner of some parking lot, since Yeonjun didn’t want to just hang out at Kai’s place again.

“Are you ever gonna confess?” Yeonjun asks. He sounds like he lost hope in Kai.

“Yes, I am,” Kai says, not knowing how to bare himself to Yeonjun like this. “Just not yet.”

“Mhm,” he gives an unconvincing hum.

“I am,” Kai insists.

“When? Ten years from now, when she’s already settled down without you?” That pisses Kai off a little, but he doesn’t let it show. Yeonjun continues, “Listen, dude. For your own sake—and for mine, at this point—just tell her you love her. And not in a month. Tell her today.”

“I’m not seeing her today,” Kai reasons.

Yeonjun puts the car in drive. “Yes you are.”

“Oh my god, you’re not taking me to her place,” Kai says, but Yeonjun’s already pulling out of the parking lot and heading out. Kai’s eyes go wide. “You’re not.”

“I am.” What the hell?! Kai’s not ready for this! You don’t even know he’s coming over!

“I don’t know what to say!” he exclaims, starting to panic.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yeonjun says.

“I just saw her yesterday! You’re making me look desperate!”

“You are desperate,” Yeonjun laughs. Kai doesn’t find it funny. Kai can’t really find anything funny right now.

“I can’t do it. I’m not doing it.”

Yeonjun doesn’t even respond; he just keeps his eyes on the road and continues on the route to your apartment. Kai’s getting flashbacks to when he first tried confessing to you. That was around a week ago now, and look where that attempt got him. He's more pathetic than he was before.

Of course he wants to tell you how he feels. It’s not like Kai wants to be such a coward about this, but the fear of you rejecting him and scaring you off forever is mortifying. Yeonjun doesn’t understand how paralyzing that idea is. There would be no kind of hurt stronger than the one of you turning Kai away. He knows he can’t make you love him, and while he would simply die to have his feelings be reciprocated, he can’t force it onto you.

Yeonjun’s approaching your street now, and Kai has never felt closer to death in his life. There’s no chance he’s getting out of Yeonjun’s car. He’ll rot away here in the passenger seat before he confesses to you.

Yeonjun turns to Kai when he parks by your apartment complex. He raises an eyebrow when Kai doesn’t make a move to get out of the car.

“I’m too scared. I can’t,” Kai says, sounding completely sure of this.

Yeonjun’s quiet for a few seconds, pursing his lips in thought as he decides on what to say. “How much do you love her?” he asks.

This is a stupid question. “You know how much. It kills me how much.”

“So act like it. Pick yourself up and go to her like a man. Quit ruining your own life—she’s not gonna want some bum who can’t even work up enough courage to say he loves her,” Yeonjun says, and his words are harsh, but they strike some kind of determination in Kai. “Dude, I don’t know any guy who deserves her more than you. You’re the best. I mean it. You gotta go get her.”

Kai’s palms are sweating and his heart is racing, but there’s a fire lit beneath him now. Yeonjun’s right. Even if it’s the end of all things, Kai has to tell you his feelings.

Yeonjun continues, “Do it. It’s not as bad as you think. You have to do it.”

Kai finally opens the car door, and he can feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. “I’m gonna call you later,” Kai says before shutting the door. He hears Yeonjun cheer him on as he walks off, letting his feet lead him to your door.

It all feels too familiar when Kai’s standing at your doorstep. He has no script this time. He couldn’t begin to try and conjure one up—his nerves are making him jittery and scatterbrained. There’s no backing out this time. Yeonjun’s words ring in Kai’s mind. He has to do it.

“Oh, hey,” you say when you open the door. Kai steps inside and gathers his breath. “Did something happen?” you ask.

You stare at him with concern, and he figures it must be because he’s visibly anxious. He tries to get himself together, straightening his posture and breathing slower.

“No, not really,” he answers.

“You look like you’re ready to pass out.” You glance at your living room. “Did you want to sit down?”

“No,” he says, then musters up whatever courage he has to grab your hands. He clutches onto them desperately, as if you ground him, as if you remind him to be brave. “I just want to tell you something.”

Your eyes dart between his like you’re trying to find his words before he can say them. “What is it?” you ask.

Kai’s whole world has been building up to this moment. It’s finally time. He breaks the dam open, letting his vulnerability loose.

“I love you.” His heart hammers against his chest.

“I know,” you say.

“No, like—I love you,” he emphasizes, squeezing your hands.

You smile. It’s breathtaking. “I know. Yeonjun told me.”

Yeonjun—what?!

“Are you kidding me?!” Kai forgets everything else he wanted to say in his horror. That fucking asshole, he’s dead! Kai can’t believe this! He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised; this is such a Yeonjun thing to do. “When did he tell you?!”

You laugh like this is all so funny, meanwhile Kai’s world is crumbling down. “The day before we first hooked up,” you answer.

No fucking way.

“You knew this whole time?” Kai asks.

“Yup,” you confirm.

“Why did he tell you?”

“In case you pussied out. Which you did,” you answer. “And because he knew I’m in love with you too.”

Kai doesn’t quite process what he heard. “Huh?”

You grin and roll your eyes, and then you’re pulling Kai’s face in so you can kiss him. His head spins. He’ll wake up any second now. Your lips feel very real, though, and far beyond what his dreams could conjure up. They’re soft and sweet and just as delicious as he remembers.

You pull away. “I love you too,” you say. “You should be my boyfriend.”

Kai’s in disbelief. You love him—the words echo in his mind on a constant loop. He can’t think about anything else; all he can do is pull you back in for another kiss and make it count. This is your first kiss officially together, after all.

“You should’ve asked me before,” Kai breathes out, holding your face dearly. “You knew I would’ve said yes.”

You giggle, “I like the chase.”

The world around him fades away as Kai devotes his full attention to you. Nothing else in the universe could mean more than this moment. You drag him to your bedroom, and he follows eagerly, grinning victoriously the whole time.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to finally say it,” you tease as you push him onto your bed, straddling him and resting your hands on his chest. “Or that I had to hear it from Yeonjun first, a week before I heard it from you.”

“He fucking sucks for that,” Kai says with a little laugh. He holds no real malice toward Yeonjun, but he will definitely be having a word with him later. Honestly, Kai couldn’t even be mad if he tried right now. With you smiling like this on top of him and Kai finally being able to call you his, nothing could bring him down.

You bring Kai’s face to yours for a quick kiss, then you pull away to throw off your shirt. “Let’s make it feel like the first time,” you say, lifting off of him to take off your bottoms.

“It always does with you,” Kai says sweetly as he pulls his own pants and boxers down. You spit in your hand and bring it to his cock, pumping him quickly to get him fully hard. You bite your lip as you twist your hand over him, earning a choked out moan from Kai. He brings his hand to your folds, rubbing at your slit with just as much fervor.

“Do you want me to ride you?” you ask, a little out of breath from Kai’s hands on you. His head nearly explodes at the thought of you riding him. He wants you to do whatever you want. He wants you to use his dick to make yourself cum ten times over, if that’s what you’d like.

“Yeah, fuck, come fuck me,” Kai begs just as breathlessly. He places his hands on your hips while you position his tip to your entrance. You have fun with it, sliding the head of his cock through your folds until Kai starts whining.

You grab his face so he’ll look at you when you start sinking down on him, and the eye contact is so intense, but Kai doesn’t dare look away. He lets you dip two fingers past his lips, and he sucks them diligently, moaning around them when you sink down on his cock all the way.

You grind against him, slow and sensual, while Kai swirls his tongue around your digits. He wants you to feel his devotion. He wants his love to be so apparent that you could never doubt it. His insides are lit aflame with desire, a need to be claimed by you. You don’t know it, but you’ve carved your name into his soul. He’s eternally yours.

“I love you,” you whisper. You put your body to work, keeping all the passion and sensuality in the moment as you start riding him. Kai gasps, and you pull your fingers from his mouth, bringing them to your own to suck his saliva off of them. The act is so dirty, but it makes Kai’s dick twitch inside you.

“I love you too,” he whimpers. You take your saliva-coated fingers to your clit and rub it as you hasten the pace of your hips. His hands find your tits, squeezing the flesh and thumbing at your nipples. Your mouth drops open, and your eyes fall to Kai’s lips. He smiles as he leans in, kissing you and capturing all your moans.

He holds onto your hip so he can buck up into you, trying to get you both to your orgasms. “Cum with me,” you breathe into his mouth. You don’t have to tell him twice.

He bottoms out and releases inside you, cock twitching as his seed spurts out. You’re cumming right along with him, legs trembling and hands clutching onto Kai to keep yourself up. He watches your stomach tense up as you ride out your high. You’re the hottest sight to be seen.

Kai feels euphoric, like the world has blessed him to be the luckiest man on earth. The happiness bubbling inside him makes him feel like he could explode. He’s all giggles and stupid little smiles, peppering your face with kisses.

“I can’t believe this is real. Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he says, staring at you like you’re something precious.

“This didn’t feel real to you?” you ask, rolling your hips over him. He’s sensitive, and the motion makes him jolt. You laugh and pull yourself off of him.

“I’m ridiculously in love with you. I wish I had the words to tell you how much,” Kai professes.

“What a shame. I would’ve loved to hear it.” You peck the tip of his nose.

If that’s a challenge to get Kai to try, he gladly accepts. “I never believed in destiny until I fell in love with you. I don’t think a love this strong existed anywhere else, I think I’m the first person to love someone this hard.”

Kai will dedicate his every next breath to you. He’s yearned and longed for years, with a force much stronger than a human heart has. Feelings like this are bigger than life itself; they’re bigger than celestial bodies, bigger than metaphysical concepts. Feelings like this haven’t yet been given words to describe them.

He feels like a winner when he sees you fluster at his words—getting you to blush is not an easy feat. You look away shyly, but your lips are tilted up in a cute smile.

“Well, I love you too,” you say. Kai doesn’t need the fancy words from you; this much is more than enough. He steals a kiss from you once more.

Kai doesn’t forget to call Yeonjun when he gets the chance, figuring he should still have a word with him. It goes to voicemail. That’s fine. He leaves a very kind message for his friend to find when he decides to check his phone.

“You’re seriously the worst. You’re unbelievable. Call me back when you can, you’re gonna want to hear this.”

notes: ahhhhhh what do we think?? 🙈🙈 i’m issuing a formal apology to the one direction fans and haters who had to sit through the 1d bit. extra apology to niall girls. i also apologize to the bowling community. contrary to what this fic may imply i really do respect you guys. lmfao i hope you enjoyed this! always happy to hear ur thoughts :)

taglist: @dawngyu @fancypeacepersona @hyukarma @kveclair @mental-hollows @moaadiry 🤍

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[monkebearness]

Just Give It To Me

Park Sieun (STAYC) x Male Reader

Tags: smut, (light) fluff, rough sex, oral sex, creampie, (some) degradation, daddy kink

Word count: 7.8k

a/n: my first non-tripleS fic, since I'm still sorting out my next plan there. for now, I wrote a fic about one of my fave 4th gen groups. it's also their comeback. it's a little quicker, but that's the intention. still, I hope you like this one!

“Hanjae-ssi, we’re having a meeting tonight. I’ll send the details to your number.”

“Ne, Miss Vice President. Should I notify the executives? Or a specific team?”

“No,” she tells him. “I’ll deal with them. Just—” The woman looks at him with a blank expression, from head to toe. “Dress up in something else.”

“Ne,” he bows to her, just before she dismisses him as the clock strikes lunch break.

Lim Hanjae has been Park Sieun’s assistant as soon as the latter rose to the ranks of the Nopeun Corporation’s upper management as its vice president, but they knew each other when Sieun was still a branch manager and Hanjae was a junior supervisor about four years ago.

He’s only a year younger, but respect and consistency are the most he has shown to this woman from the moment he was assigned to be her right hand through a vote between executives. Or so most would think.

At first glance, no one would expect the woman to be the older one. Not simply because of their height difference of fourteen centimeters, the difference between her soft yet empowering high pitched voice and his amiable baritone voice, or the difference between her ethereal and stunning neanimorphic visuals and his “above average” but mature appearance, at least with how some folks would compare them behind their backs, even though that’s an obsolete stereotype.

But with how they treat each other at work, most of employees’ preconceived notions and initial impressions slowly blur, where they begin to question some things about them Either the office drama becomes more stale and repetitive or a lot more interesting, allowing for more doors of far spicier and scandalous speculations.

Or from a more personal note, concerns also arise towards their workplace relations, especially from his own closest colleagues and friends.

“You’re not getting in trouble, are you?” Eunkyung asks him on the left seat beside him, gripping both his hands on their table.

“I don’t know…” he shrugs at her worry. “I hope not. I don't think anyone else is either.”

“You can just quit, you know?” his other friend, Mark, chimes in on his right after taking a sip of his matcha latte.

He scoffs at his overkill suggestion, letting go of Eunkyung’s hands. “Why would I quit? I'm not getting abused, and if I was, I would've reported her to H.R. a long time ago.”

“As if doing that will do anything to the chairman’s daughter!” the woman whines.

He shakes his head. “Whatever you guys are thinking, I’m doing better than y’all think.”

“You seem to be exhausted whenever you have a meeting with her.” Eunkyung sighs. “It’s just… Sad to see.”

“Oh… That?” He can’t spill away too much. “I just forgot to get myself a hot cup of tea. Plus, I was finalizing some team projects back then. It’s not as bad as things are now.”

“That’s exactly why we advise you to rethink your life choices,” Eunkyung shoots back. “You’ve been doing nothing but great things for this company, like the rest of us… We can only hope your pay is much, much better with you as her main underling.”

“It definitely has gotten better,” Hanjae chuckles. “I assure you guys, I'll even treat y—”

“I don’t think we can be assured, now she made you do the worst thing a boss can order to an assistant,” Mark interjects, now echoing Eunkyung’s sentiments with his cadence. Meanwhile, the latter takes a sip of her americano in silence, expressing her agreement with Mark through a nod.

“And that is—?” He raises his eyebrow.

“She’s making you set up a meeting on Friday, which is today!” he opens his palms out of bewilderment. “We’re usually free today, now that our biggest meetings have been sorted out, but out of the sudden, they pulled you in for another one.”

“Come on, I’ll be fine, guys!” he insists, hoping they calm down for the last time, despite being uncertain himself. “I promise, nothing’s going on… It’ll probably just be another brainstorming sesh with some other clients. Or some deets they wanna add up from last time.”

= = =

Eight eighteen in the evening. Hanjae looks out the window in front of their table. The city skyline stands out against the darkness with its assortment of lights from all the buildings in sight. He sees his boss’ reflection on his left, still looking at her menu.

They're at a fine dining restaurant, in a hotel two cities away from Seoul. They are both wearing their business jackets, wearing the fanciest suits they can get (at least for him), yet no other face from their company is in sight. Not even a new client. Confusion only runs through his brain, but he still doesn't dare to question his boss, considering she’s still occupied with telling her orders to the waiter. Until she's done, he raises his menu over his face, scanning the area and analyzing his superior through a few quick glances.

Her hair doesn’t look as formal as before, with how it’s tied up in a stylish bun. And of course, he knows that her dyed red hair is already a sign that she’s taking advantage of the loopholes of their company guidelines to the fullest. It's her third dye, after all. Thank goodness, their higher ups have gone lenient.

Not to mention her association with the chairman often intimidated him. It still does, but he does a better job at hiding it whenever she’s with him. The situation still bugs him, because of the absence of other clients or colleagues, and as soon as they are finished with ordering, he clears his throat and musters up the will to ask his boss, but not before taking a glug of his glass of water.

Her eyes move upwards, landing at him. “What is it, Hanjae? Spit it out.”

Under the table, he clenches his fist for a second, just as he opens his mouth. “Umm yes… Pardon me, ma’am, but… I thought there’d be other people with us tonight.”

She raises her eyebrow. “I said I’d deal with them. I didn’t say they’ll be here.”

Is this where he thinks this is? It can’t be. Is she messing with him?

“Oh… I understand. Joesonghamnida.”

Where this is heading. He still doesn’t want to fall for it. Getting the wrong impression.

Semantics and technicalities from his own superior always get to him. And he’s got the highest grades in both Korean and English in his classes. Since he got promoted as an assistant, Hanjae has flown to a few countries with their company, demonstrating his adeptness and expertise in both languages. He would often remember their time in the United Kingdom five months ago, where he listened to his boss speaking in her British accent. Most of the time, he would find her fluency in foreign languages awe-inspiring, whether it’s something like Spanish or Chinese. And sometimes, he can’t help but hold in his laughter because of how cute and ‘posh’ she sounds when conversing with clients.

Yet, whenever no one’s around, he’d feel something else. Hanjae hasn’t heard someone speak fluently in French like she does. Who knew that the simplest phrases like Si c'est moi in a certain passionate tone can make his hair stand up even under his sleeves?

Over an hour has passed. The weird thing was there was nothing to talk about. Nothing about work. No project updates. They just ate and drank, like an old couple, something that makes it much stranger since even in meetings only between the two of them, she would usually ask him about an update or suggestions about an ongoing project. Since there’s nothing to discuss about, they could only hear each other’s chewing and others’ chatter. Like usual, Sieun had a light meal, so her assistant also ordered a similar meal. Now, all that’s left are splatters of leftover truffle sauce and strands of pasta on Hanjae’s plate, while there’s no more trace of the chicken fricassée on Sieun’s, save for a splash of the brown stew. Each of them has a champagne glass, which both of them have emptied.

“You done with your dessert?” she asks him.

Without making his panic obvious, the man places the spoon on the now empty cup that used to contain the affogato. “Ne. I'm done, Ma’am.”

“You can wrap things up now.”

Hanjae calls the nearest waiter within their distance. “We'll take the bill, please.”

He feels something soft touch the hem of his pants, slowly sliding up to his crotch. It's her toes, tickling his member.

“Miss Park!” he almost hollers, his voice radiating with a hint of panic and caution, but not enough to stir any attention from anyone else around them.

Her face remains stoic. “Stand up,” she commands him, now that it has followed her. “Follow me after this… We're not done.”

With her card, Sieun pays for their orders, stealing gazes at her assistant throughout the process until they leave the restaurant to take a walk to the nearest elevator. Hanjae can only scratch his head behind her back, still bewildered on figuring out what their deal is, being in his hotel that’s miles away from home without anyone else to meet. As soon as they reach the highest floor of the hotel, he realizes they’re in the penthouse. She locks the door shut, allowing him to follow her to the living room.

She walks up to the coat rack stand, taking off her trench coat while he watches in silence, still clasping his hands together. “I don’t think you’re this dense, Hanjae.”

“What do you mean, Ma’am?”

“Was I not obvious enough at the restaurant?” She steals a glance at his nether regions. “Your thing down there seems to know already.”

He involuntarily gulps. “So… Tonight. This was never meant to be a meeting for clients.”

She’s right. How is he this dense?

“Now, do you know what to do?” Sieun hums. She tilts her head to the right, letting out a soft and teasing purr. He clears his throat, taking three quick steps to reach her. Without any signs of hesitation, the man cups her chin and leans down to devour her lips with his own. Their tongues collide, giving each other a taste of their drink and dinner the longer they dance. His lips proceed to trail down to her neck and collarbone, leaving traces of his saliva on every path he traverses, while she moans at the sensation he’s giving her.

Taking their time, they unbutton and strip each other’s clothes. Hanjae never wanted to rush this moment. The bliss, thrill, and excitement running through his veins. It’s like a drug, even, but he doesn’t want to find it out. This woman is enough to make him high. From her lips and tongue to the scent of her primrose perfume throughout her body.

“You know how long I've waited for this?” he murmurs into the kiss. It’s been more than a couple of weeks since they last did it, but he has never brought it up to her—even when they’re alone at the office. It’s a simple unspoken rule that benefits both of them. No one wants a scandal—and no one wants to get fired from work due to their afterwork affairs, which is and should be no one else’s business.

“I know you liked to be teased,” she snickers, leaving a few loving kisses on his neck.

He pinches both her butt cheeks, triggering a moan of surprise and pleasure from her mouth. “You mean, you like teasing me?” he argues, trying to get a lick of her clavicle.

“Same same,” she shoots back, before pulling him back to her lips with a hum of hunger.

As soon as their hands begin exploring their curves and corners, it’s all hands on each other’s decks. Just as he has gotten through her blouse and slacks and her unbuttoning his sleeves, his eyes widen as his member erects at the sight of her look.

A revealing top, a tight and short skirt in fishnets. The effort she’s made to keep it in while she maintained her domineering front and formalities around him for hours. Hanjae’s lust-driven mind expected her in her bra and underwear to welcome his hungry gaze, but this… He also admits this is a better way of teasing. “You’ve been hiding that all this time?” he chuckles in disbelief.

“It’s meant to be a surprise,” she admits, rubbing her right and over her left. Throughout their sexcapades, they've witnessed each other in different get-ups and attires. Although nothing too kinky yet, this is a first for Sieun to conceal her clothes under another layer, instead of changing right before the show like they used to do.

“It must’ve been hot under there,” Hanjae comes closer with a hint of concern.

“That’s the idea,” she retorts, exhaling a smile.

Their eyes lock. Just by her look, she has taken his breath away. “You look stunning.”

Her cheeks slowly blush. Still, she brushes off such a ‘soft’ reaction to his compliment. There’s an urge from her to thank Hanjae, but she seeks to repay him through actions instead. She’s had enough of words all week. “You better make it worth it.”

Truth be told, she tends to “switch” from meetup to meetup, which doesn’t bother him. In fact, it drives him crazier the more he realizes he was able to have a sense of control over Sieun, like she often allows him on nights like these, because the next time they meet and cross eyes in broad daylight, he knows that she’ll just be back to being the same old imperious superior everyone fears, respects, or both—sometimes fantasize. However, none of those folks are or will be as lucky as Lim Hanjae.

He pins her to the wall, initiating another steamy and salivating makeout session neither of them would ever want to stop. A couple of minutes passed, Hanjae’s lust for her body skyrocketed. Her plump and luscious lips are always insatiable, but foreplays like these have usually only been the appetizer. One that he always brings to their main courses. Still, he has to move forward with her. Disappointing her is the last thing he wants to happen, especially tonight.

She licks the sweat off his neck, tasting the traces of his perfume like a mint-flavored popsicle, before tiptoeing to lean next to his ear and whisper “Do what you want. It’s your reward.”

Shivers trickle through his spine as he feels her warm breath and softer intonation. The go-signal has been given. He directs her straight to the bedroom, still clinging onto her lips and tongue. The man only leaves her inches away from the bed as he proceeds on the cloud-like mattress. She follows and crawls towards him with anticipation, but he clings on to her forearm, stopping her in the middle.

“Nuh-uh,” he gestures with his finger from his other hand, which mirrors his shaking head, holding in his smile with some effort. He remembers their routine crystal clear.

“What?” she asks, flabbergasted as her momentum slows down at his disapproval, though her carnal need for his touch remains the same.

They're both eager to get down and get it on, but he wants to try something else just before they proceed to the main event. “Suck it,” he orders Sieun with a straight face.

Sieun kneels in front of him. Leaning forward, she gives his member a few licks, starting with the head and slowly descending to his length, now much more like a popsicle, until she reaches to his balls. Such tickles can’t help but make him giggle, even though he has always tried his best to hold himself in front of her. Unbeknownst to him, the lady finds a fascinating motivation in his reaction.

She maintains eye contact with her partner, smirking in satisfaction while her face still can. After mesmerizing at its lubed and slimy appearance, she widens her small mouth as much as she can and takes in his member, humming as it enters her slowly. The man helps her out the only way he can. Hanjae tugs at her hair bun with his right hand, while his left fingers claws down on the mattress. He starts doing limited thrusts with a slower rhythm—clenching his buttocks on the bed with every outward push towards her mouth.

Moans can be heard from the woman, keeping her mouth as wide as she can around the length and girth of his shaft. Despite his small thrusts, she starts her own movement by bobbing her head up and down, even giving him a sultry wink the more she accelerates.

“Oh, Fuck!” he whimpers, feeling the electrifying sensation through his spine. Driven by his wild instincts, his grip on her bun tightens, compelled to continue his thrusts on her deceitful mouth in the next minutes, even if his own back will punish him for it later on. Her efforts are more than enough, but he would have never expected her new trick. The lady takes her other hand down to his testicles, giving Hanjae another tickle. “Shit—you little minx!” Her tickles slowly turn into a grip, squishing it like stress balls in her palm.

“I'm about to—” he can’t stop himself from roaring loudly. “I’m gonna cum!”

He bursts his first load for the night, right into her gaping mouth. Despite swallowing most of his seed, the woman coughs out what was left in the minute that follows. They catch their breath together, making Hanjae approach Sieun with his hand on her back, slowly patting it by instinct. His character breaks for a second, showing his care as her assistant. They lock eyes. She feels those beats inside her. Slow, but louder. She thinks maybe that’s just because she’s exhausted after sucking him off. Who wouldn't be?

“Do you wanna take a breather first?” she asks him with a chuckle.

“No,” he pants with a smile. “I’m supposed to be the one asking you that question.”

She answers him with a ravenous kiss, leaving smiles on both their faces as they both taste his salty and sticky juice amidst the silence. Such a daring act from her switches him back to his so-called alter ego. Her tongue gives him a tease right while their lips part, knowing he would want more of that later on. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

“Bend over,” he commands almost immediately, deepening his tone with little effort.

She only nods with a submissive whimper, kneeling in the middle of the bed—with her elbows on support—in anticipation for his treatment. And as they’ve long been waiting for, the main show is finally going down with Sieun bending over and making an effort to peek at Hanjae and his erect cock between her legs. She bites her lip just seeing him upside down when he raises her tight skirt up to her waist and watches him strip down her underwear, which he tosses to the top of the bed, landing on the pillow next to her.

“Ah, ah…” he mocks, forcing her to look forward once more in a fit of both apprehension and anticipation. Nevertheless, her trick just hardens his shaft even more, solidifying his girth. “Who says you can look?”

That’s the thing. She likes, nay loves more that he is the dominant one in bed, ironically enough. And he’s been getting the hang of being a switch for a while now. Of course, no one does training for those at the office. Unless it’s with her during that one time.

In front of his eyes, Hanjae sees her entrance, and like a key to its hole, he plunges his knob into her cunt as if it’s the perfect shape. Thanks to her salivary lubrication, his penetration proves to be less jagged.

“Aaaaaah…” she moans, her walls welcoming the first half of his manhood. For a split second, she imagines his penis entering her asshole instead. Maybe for another time.

“Ngh… More…” she begs. “Put it more, babe. You’re already in… So deep… Ugh!”

He pulls himself and her, burying his cock even further while holding on to her hips. Deeper inside her womb. He didn’t stop until his tip could feel her cervix, a moment which signals him to start moving his hips in and out in larger and louder rhythms, undoubtedly stretching her insides with his stronger rams.

Her eyes widened at this ensuing sensation. She wasn’t too careful about her wish coming true in an instant, but she doesn’t regret it. Under his dominance, she couldn’t feel any luckier tonight. “Oh, fuck! Yes…”

While tightening his abs as if he’s planking and flexing his arms like he’s lifting, the man fastens his pace. With his eyes on the prize, he pulls her hair, finally taking advantage of the bun that’s been leveling with his eyes the moment they first met at the restaurant. “It’s begging to get pulled, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” she groans in agreement, with her nails on each finger clawing through the duvet cover in order to anchor herself while Hanjae keeps his right hand grip over her hair like the reins of a steed. “I fucking… Love this… Auuuugh!”

They go on for several more minutes, maintaining the rhythm of moving forward and backward as their layers of stimulation build up every second. Eventually, he lets go of Sieun's hair. The man has both hands held on to her hips, while he leans over her nape, kissing her from the back with sounds that mimic the slapping produced by their bodies.

The sight of her jiggling ass and the sound crashing through his ears now give him the idea, prompting him to widen and raise his right palm up in the air and smack!

“Oh, God!” she moans in ecstacy, slightly arching her back. “Yes!”

“I’m, uhh, getting… Close,” he grunts, quickly exhaling a blazing fume through his nose.

“I'm fucking safe!” she yells, feeling her own limit break while her body keeps trembling.

Hearing that is another green light for him to remember for the rest of these sessions. Hanjae groans as loud as a raging bull, fusing with Sieun’s squeals of satisfaction, as their ounces of fluids fire and collide within the bridge of their intermingled bodies.

Their first orgasm of the night. The first of many, the woman hopes within her mind. Neither of them expected to go straight to the point? For a month, they were deprived of each other's touch due to the surge of events that demanded their presence and service. Not to mention the fact that she hasn’t given him a call or hint until now. Hanjae’s far from feeling any anger, but he is not letting that slide.

Only two minutes have passed since their nethers have parted, but he taps her back a couple of times while she’s lying. Heeding his nonverbal command, she rises from her prone position to face him.

“We’re not done, Mistress.” His eyes grow at his own words, though he keeps his frown in front of the woman. Wrong word, his mind realizes. His subconscious must’ve taken over for a millisecond. A more submissive region. She won’t notice it, he follows up. She is too invested in this.

“Yes, daddy,” she nods without question, still looking at him with eyes that beg and give in. That word makes his head tilt with a low hum of perplexity, only to shake it off as the woman’s look and response alone is keeping him up and curious.

He takes another step, placing his hand underneath her chin. “You know what you did wrong, Sieun-ah?”

He hears a gulp from her throat. “No, daddy,” her tone dramatically shifts. “What is it?”

The term’s growing on him fast. He remembers her not wanting to be called babe or bebe, even though she’s called him the former a couple of times. Hanjae sighs, but he maintains his domineering act. “You've been too vulgar with me. You've been so bad.”

“Are you gonna punish me for that?” The trembling in her voice makes it convincing. How she responds almost freaks Hanjae out, but he knows what situation they're in. Plus, she leaves a trace of her coy smirk on the corner of her lips for him to notice.

“You’ll find out,” he answers, leaving Sieun with lust-driven wonder while he holds her.

He kisses her once again, although his hands make their way to her hair. Seeing her as a redhead has brought out the lust in him ever since she dyed into that color. Now that he has the chance, he yearns to see her in its undone beauty. He has fucked her in various hairstyles and colors in the past year and a half. Pig tails. Layered. Curls. Waves. Buns, like now. All of which made him excited when she made the first move or call in secret.

Black. Blond. Pink. He never had a preference with her looks, ‘cause that's her business. Light brown and orange were his two favorites, yet now’s giving him second thoughts. It seems that her color tonight gives him a new reaction. Him as the raging bull and her as the muleta or red cloth to his narrow vision. It's not just the color that gets to his nerves from head to toe. That's a common misconception, but even if it's only directed to bulls, he knows there’s more to Sieun that is driving his own lust to another level. It's also her bratty movement and juxtaposed behavior that’s provoking him, even outside the bed.

His tongue enters her mouth, recognizing the 4-million-won champagne they’ve drunk, encouraging him to dominate the woman even in this glossal duel. In-between kisses, he helps his partner take her top off and unlock her bra, while leaving several more hickeys on her neck down to her toned and perky breasts, now that she's completely bare as him.

Hanjae slowly takes the fishnets off Sieun’s legs, giving her a tingling sensation. Tossing them into the corner of the room, he leans forward to give the woman's knees and thighs pepper kisses. He opens his mouth, licking off the moisture that has accumulated on her legs in the past hour. Within seconds her groans slowly shift into giggles, that is until he moves deeper into her legs, opening them wide like he has split a mountain in half with his bare hands. He just discovered her core, dripping wet. Already a feast to his eyes.

But at the last second, he inches away from her entrance, bewildering Sieun as her excitement is interrupted. He stands up, leaving her lying on the bed in confusion.

“I think we're still forgetting something,” he rubs his chin with a soft smirk.

“Huh?” she wonders, and his movement is turning him on more than she anticipated.

“Sit,” he commands, even pointing down his finger on the surface of the mattress with eyes that taunt. The woman now realizes he is only messing with her, yet she complies without question. Hanjae’s in control tonight and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sieun herself has been deprived of his authority for a while now. Something that she has rarely gotten from anyone else at the company ever since she had truly proved herself as a valuable and integral member of the Nopeun Corporation. She always hated the unfair treatment given to her by most employees and executives, just because of who she is and not what she can do. These secret and intimate moments she has with Hanjae are what she always yearns for.

The man gently pulls down her skirt with ease, leaving it on the carpet below the bed. With nothing else in his mind, he kisses her neck as he inserts his middle finger inside her entrance. And combined with his lips sucking on her collarbone, Sieun only groans at both simultaneous arousals. He follows up his ring finger inside her, triggering a key that makes her let out the higher pitched squeal he’s been craving to hear. He’s not as gentle compared to last time, she observes.

“Hnhh…” she groans, her eyes half closed. “Fuck, babe. I’ve missed this soooooo much!”

But as soon as her squirting begins, he stops. “Daddy…” she pleads. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re ready…” he reassures her. He kneels down on her the levels of her nethers and kisses her cunt, not minding the fact that he just plowed her with his cock minutes ago.  It may be unhygienic, sure, but it’s his body and hers. Plus, It’s not the first time he has done this. Hearing more of Sieun’s moans above him, he continues by using his tongue to give her clit a long upward lick. “Ahhhh… You tease… So fucking… Good!”

Together with his fingers, his mouth works wonders, tasting the salty and sweet vulva of his superior while she sings her highest praise through her moans of stimulation—like a one-woman choir—in the next twenty minutes, keeping herself together—even from the temptations of closing in her thighs between his head. Even if there’s a chance he’ll like it, she knows that she’s not in full control tonight. And she’s loving this scenario so far.

Taking delight in every second of his tongue, Sieun’s climax is nearing its completion. “Hanjae-yah… Imma… Augghh…”

Hanjae only nods, allowing his movements to vibrate in a strange way that speeds up the peak of her pleasure. Little is he aware, he invented a new trick for her, considering the fact that he is now mimicking a certain toy she’s been using in her alone time. “Nggh!”

And with a final spurt of fluids, it’s his turn to receive her juices all over his face. Much like her, he savors every drop of it, getting it all over his chin and cheeks. Getting up to check on the panting woman, he shares his appetizer with her. Another kiss where they share each other’s fluids, intensifying their steaming session with hums and moans.

As their lips leave another trail of saliva, Hanjae carefully pulls Sieun closer to the bed until they both reach and sit on the upper middle. Without muttering a word, she goes along with his movement as he places her arms on his shoulders. They face each other during this one, still gasping for breath after his breathtaking performance.

“Hey… Just say the safe word, alright?” he advises her with a quick kiss on her lips.

As with her arms around his shoulders and holding on to his neck, Sieun wraps her legs around his waist with little effort, interrupting his instinct to have him be on top of her. However, he treasures this position too. It’s a classic. “I don’t need to,” she whispers.

Hanjae slides in his cock within her entrance for the second time. He enters Sieun with more ease, thanks to her leftover juices still coating his manhood. She’s due for a refill. Despite this improvement, her pussy still remains just as tight from before while he slowly pushes in his rod with more effort. The woman’s moans are less louder, maintaining her composure until his whole member is inside her.

“Just… Give it, Hanjae… Give your all… To me,” she reassured him for the final time. And so his movement of rocking back and forth recommences with a smoother pace.

“Harder!” she wails, exerting her power whenever her body demands it. Now, Hanjae increases his strength, while maintaining the rhythm of his thrusts with her grinds.

“All this... Time,” he breathes in. “How are you still so tight?” he exhales with laughter.

There's a lot of possible reasons. Yoga. Pilates. Modeling. Berating her lazy employees. Healthy diet and lifestyle. Just pretty damn good genes. But his imagination is already wild for him to guess. They're all of the above. He just wants to finish inside her soon, and more, if she allows him to do so.

“It's all… for you…” she whispers to him. “Babe…”

He nibbles on her breasts, alternating his feast with each thrust down his member.

As she gasps at his improvised trick, her breath starts to falter, preserving the remainder of her energy holding his shoulders. The shivers make her scream “I'm your toy, daddy!”

“Speak… up, brat,” he huffs, grunting while he pounds her cunt with double the power.

With every screech of arousal she yells out, her nail scratches and digs into his skin until it becomes red, almost like the woman's hair as it quakes along with her petite and curvy body during his stronger thrusts. Their ears begin to hear slight squeaking on the sturdy king-sized bed, but they're not too bothered. They've made it work on a couch, a swing, and a wooden bench. Hell, even on a monobloc chair.

“Only… You can play… with me… Daddy!” She sticks her tongue out to him.

“Such… a good girl,” he gives into her imagination, finding more arousal at her gimmick.

“I'm... close…” he murmurs while sucking on her neck.

Still with her tongue out, the woman's eyes slowly roll to the back of her head as her breathing sounds heavier while submitting to his continuous thrusts.

Hearing her whimpers, Hanjae’s thrusts slow down. “Me too…”

Fluids burst out her cunt; he releases his load a millisecond after. The last one from this set. Listening to each other’s breaths, as well as their advice from earlier, the pair finally take a breather in the next five minutes. He sprints straight to the kitchen to get two 500 milliliter bottles of water inside the fridge, handing out the second one to his partner as soon as he returns to the bedroom.

“Thanks,” Sieun takes hers, cranking it open. With closed eyes, she proceeds to glug down the bottle the same minute as him, but as she relishes the feeling of her thirst dwindling down, something clicks in her brain. Her eyes open. Her lips curve upwards, stopping her drink with the bottle now half empty.

“You thought I wouldn't have noticed, did you?” she teases with a lower pitch, although a part of Hanjae's mind and body perceives it as a threat for some reason, it even makes him let out a nervous chuckle.

“Noticed what?” he tries to play it cool, slowly wrapping his right hand around his left.

Placing the bottle on the nightstand, she takes two steps forward. With every step she takes, her smirk grows. A few speculations spring from his mind, but no guess can ease him after she's stopped a foot away from him. They both know that this is far from over.

“A while ago…” She tilts her head to the left, staring at him dead in his eyes. “You called me Mistress, not Princess. I thought that sounded strange.”

Caught.

Hanjae closes the empty bottle with its lid, carefully placing it on the floor. “Will I… Get punished for that?” he questions her. He remembers what she said. So did she.

Her fingers crawl to his balls, triggering the same tingles he felt, until it latches on to his shaft. “No,” she scoffs. “But you'll have to be tamed for being such an angry and hungry bull who just couldn't restrain himself.”

Sieun crashes her lips with Hanjae's with an excited moan, savoring each other for half a minute while she walks him back to the bed. Despite her petite arms, the woman pushes him onto the mattress, making him lie down on his back while she kneels closer beneath him. Soaked in each other’s sweat, his face can only glow in anticipation with her in the lead. That’s how this whole thing started, after all.

“It's about time I ride the beast,” she exhales with eyes of confidence and shamelessness. Hanjae can only nod at her fierce statement and seductive approach. His long dominant exterior begins to crumble at her gaze, feeling most of it transfer back to the woman. He couldn’t care less. He just wants her, here and now.

Sieun climbs and towers over Hanjae, placing her bottom on his thighs, near to his hips. Without hesitation, the determined woman aligns her entrance with his cock and inches herself until they touch. Slowly but surely, she begins grinding on him. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of this.”

“Same same,” Hanjae mutters, much to her amusement. Inching her legs a little closer, she increased her speed from low to a medium.

“C--can… I?” he exhales, unable to complete his sentence due to her still tightening cunt and his throbbing cock overwhelming his senses.

“Do it.” She leans down, knowing exactly what he means to ask. “Ugghh… Don’t—wait.”

Hanjae latches each of his hand on her breasts, inciting a holler of arousal from the woman, but he amplifies it by making semi-circular gestures on her tits, making her close her eyes. Seeking to please her even more, Hanjae surprises Sieun with a few slaps on her cheeks with his right hand, only now from the front.

Sieun’s eyes twitch, while also biting her lips in hopes of muffling her continuing groans. “Nnnnggggghhhh… You’re making me… closer, you naughty bull!”

Only letting out a chuckle, her squeals remind Hanjae of popular singers, Ariana Grande being the most memorable. At times, she might even sound like Bell—No, she's nothing like her, his mind grudges, converting his emotions into keeping up with the woman’s performance on top of his wang.

She leans down to him, puckering her lips to give him a kiss. Their tongues clash while their mouths keep them open wide, silencing his thoughts while she keeps on grinding. It's like she’s read his mind. From her waist, his hands travel to hers. She reciprocates, entangling their fingers. Both their hearts are beating in sync.

He looks at her eyes. God, she’s such a goddess, he breathes out with this thought. He may often believe that she’s too good for him, but at least he is doing her with his best serving her, making love with her. “I— Fuck, Sieun, I’m clo—”

“I am, too!” she moans into the kiss, grinding him with most of her might and stamina as they both hear their fluids starting to spurt once more.

With almost little to no effort, such a stimulation drives her to reach the highest ranges. In his mind, Sieun would’ve been a great, phenomenal artist. She did have experience in the past. She can still become one, if she wants to, but tonight, they’re each other’s great work of art. Arts in progress. They still have more time and more of their own respective essence to spare, and they would not stop grinding, savoring, and thrusting each other’s bodies until half, if not most, of the bedroom is coated, smeared with their warm seeds.

= = =

Through the casement window, the sunlight kisses Sieun’s skin, from her hands to her forehead. But, they don’t feel like his lips. She loves the feeling of the mattress, as if she was slowly and endlessly sinking on the foam, like relishing the comfort of heavens.

However, that only makes her groan in annoyance 'cause it's not as sturdy and tender as Hanjae's chest. It is the balance her body always remembers in their hours of snores and silence. She feels the warmth of the blanket covering her body, but it feels too narrow. She can only feel herself.

That's it! Her eyes open with a sense of annoyance and panic, realizing such an absence has been bothering her, now that her mind is up and running. Rising from her slumber in her undergarments, she sees Hanjae, specifically his bottom, on the other side of the bed. His skin appears a little dryer, and he's already wearing his boxer and undershirt.

He’s putting on his socks when he notices her. “Oh, you’re up. Good morning, ma’am,” he lowers his head slightly to bow. Relief washes over her.

She ignores his greeting, only feeling concerned about his actions. “What’s the rush?”

“Huh?” He stops putting on his pants, noticing the yearning from her eyes.

“It’s a Saturday,” she reminds him. Her lips slowly form a pout.

“Yeah… Well, that didn’t stop the company from having meetings from time to time.”

“There’s no work today, Hanjae-yah,” she reiterates. “I, uhh, even rescheduled the meeting meant for last night.”

“Oooooh…” His previous question is now answered. “So that’s what happened.”

“Yeah…” her eyes slowly roll to the side, pursing her lips, now that she's admitted that.

He can hear those rhythms in his chest. As she fixes her disheveled hair to the side of her ear, Sieun turns to him once again.

“Don’t you wanna stay for a bit?” she adds.

The rhythms would grow louder. “Sure…”

Staying with Park Sieun? He doesn’t want anything more, even if that's what he does every other day during weekdays. Right now, she feels more like Sieun, not VP Park. A situation like that rarely comes around in his life, so he may as well cherish it. But at the same time, another thought flashes a query he never dared to ask her, at least while they were still doing it.

He unravels his left sock. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course,” she chortles. “Don't need to be all formal with me.”

“About that kink last night…”

“Yeah?” she wonders. “Which one?”

He lets out a chuckle. Had to be more specific. “That, umm,” he pulls out his right sock. “Daddy kink.”

But instead of expecting a reciprocative chuckle to leave her mouth, it silently gapes with intrigue and a hint of confusion. “You didn’t like it?”

“No, I did…” his voice almost croaks. “ It’s just, is it not weird for you, or something?”

“No..?” With a slightly raised pitch, she’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this.

He can only sigh with relief… And of course, confusion. “Huh...”

Her eyes squint. She feels that he’s not too satisfied by her answer. “You don't like oppa. I had to come up with something else that I'm into.”

“That’s because you're older than me. That's just a matter of fact…” he counters, sounding defensive with his argument. “And it's not that I hate it, it's just we've already done that a lot before… You didn’t seem to like noona either.”

Silence enters their room in the following moment. Sieun reads his face a little more, tracing his question back to her own personal life.

“Is it because I’m close with my father?” That brings a ding sound to Hanjae’s ears.

Saying Park Sieun is a smart woman is one understatement. Of course, she'd guess that. “I’m sorry for… making it weird,” he looks down with a surge of embarrassment flowing through his mind.

“It’s okay.” Sieun places her hand above his own, giving it a slow and comforting stroke. “And no, it’s not because of that. I love my appa very much, but that’s different...”

He looks back at her, sensing his spirits elevating with hope. “That's… Good to know.”

“And it's not like I hated noona either,” she admits. “I just thought it was a little too… Romantic. And like what you said about my dad, I also have a younger brother.”

His spirits stop in thin air, awaiting its own descent with her words and his expectation. Of course, how could he forget about that? “Oh… Right, I remember it now.”

“But that was a while ago,” she immediately adds. “I wasn't in a good spot at the time… And just looking back, I guess I did like it.” Her right hand wraps its fingers around his own, with her words slowly forming a beam on her lips. “Especially since I heard it from you, Hanjae-yah… What we have is different.”

It's back up again, and more certain. He can't help but smile and chuckle with jubilance. His heart and mind can't help but profess their agreement as seconds would follow.

“And…” Another subject pops up in her mind. “I'm sorry if I didn't call you too often.”

“It's okay, Sieun-ssi.” Again, he tries to be smooth. “We were all busy with the new project. The partnerships were—”

“Not like that,” she interjects. “I mean, like outside work. That’s not an excuse for me.”

“It's fine.” His voice lowers, but her words are starting to soothe his spirits. “I'm just glad we're making time now, you know?”

Sieun moves her right thumb, rubbing his index finger. “I’m glad, too… If it'll make you feel any better, we'll switch things up next time.”

He cups the woman’s warm face and leans in to kiss her. In this sensation, they both feel more ease than tension before parting to see each other's smile. Captivated in pure bliss.

“I never get to do that whenever we’re outside…” Hanjae confesses; his expression and delivery emanate not only embarrassment but also sincerity. He knows he shouldn't feel embarrassed, but it's always been an inclusion whenever he tries to open up. He will just have to do some things that’ll put a little or a lot more hair on his chest. Unless she's not into that. “Or—now that I think about—at all.”

She pulls him in a much deeper kiss, craving for his sweeter and more tender taste not knowing he wants the same. Perhaps it's just their heart and hormones simply setting the mood, but their souls know. Whatever they're feeling is true. Neither of them say those words, but that’s fine. Labels are the least of their worries, for now... What matters most is how their actions speak louder than words. From mind and heart to body.

“Then do that more often,” she giggles, caressing his rough left cheek with her soft hand. For a second, he nuzzles into the warmth of her touch.

“As you wish, Princess.” He takes the woman's hand, indeed like a make-believe royalty, as they get off the bed and land their feet on the carpet.

“You wanna get some breakfast after?” she suggests.

“Oh, I’d love that. I believe breakfast downstairs is highly recommended,” he points out.

“I'll just take a shower first and then we'll grab a bite. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course, Vice President,” he nods. Sieun nudges his shoulder while shaking her head. Giving him a peck on his left cheek, she heads to the bathroom and closes it with a cackle.

After three minutes of texting Eunkyung and Mark on his phone about their concerns, he hears the door creak open. He looks ahead. From the bathroom, the shower begins to pour on a lower level. The curtain slides open; Sieun calls out to him with her same old kittenish voice. “Why don't you join me inside? Burn a few more calories. Hmm…?”

Leaving the door open, while keeping the curtain half closed, Hanjae places down his phone on the nightstand, stripping his undershirt down the floor before running straight to the bathroom, manifesting the raging bull he embodied last night, reinvigorated by his excitement to be with her—his red-headed princess—once more.

= = =

so yeah, although my main focus is on tripleS, I'll definitely write more fics from other groups that I like or follow. on that note, I'm really liking STAYC's comeback. in general, I think a lot of groups' comebacks this month are doing great so far. anyways, enough yappin'. thanks for the read and, like always, have a great day!

[nujeskz]

Orphic - Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x designer!reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, mutual pining.

Synopsis: You and Hyunjin have always been inseparable—best friends, confidants, and, unknowingly, each other’s greatest longing. As a designer, he’s your muse, the canvas for every stitch, every fabric choice, every creation filled with the words you’re too afraid to say. But when years of silent yearning come to a breaking point one late night in your studio, a single kiss threatens to unravel everything—fear, hesitation, and the love that’s been woven between you all along.

warnings: no proofread, mutual pining, emotional tension, slight angst, hyunjin is reader's muse, kisses, let me know if I should add anything else! wc: 1.5k

Author's note: in honor of hyunjin's day! this is something i had in mind for a while, I hope you all like it ! And happy birthday to my bubu♡

Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated!

The steady hum of your sewing machine fills the room, a rhythmic pulse that mirrors the quiet thrum of your heartbeat. Fabric scraps litter the floor, colorful remnants of your relentless creativity, while stray threads tangled around your ankles like whispers of unfinished ideas. You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head, exhaustion creeping into your muscles. When your gaze flickers to the clock, it’s nearly midnight.

But that doesn’t stop you.

Without hesitation, you grab your phone, fingers moving with a familiar ease as you type out a message. You don't need to think about the number—you know by heart.

You’re threading a needle when your phone buzzes on the desk, vibrating against the sketchbooks piled high with unfinished designs. The soft glow of the screen reflects the name you’ve come to associate with both comfort and chaos: Hyunjin.

You don’t need to check the message. You already know what it says. He’s on his way, because you called him — like you always do. And he’ll come, because he always does.

A flutter stirs in your chest, one you've tried to suppress more times than you can count and you scold yourself for it. Hyunjin is your best friend, your canvas, your muse. He’s not yours to keep, no matter how much you wish otherwise.

The door swings open without a knock, and there he is, standing in your dimly lit space like he belongs here. His freshly buzzed hair is still damp from a shower, tiny droplets clinging to his skin. He’s wearing a hoodie two sizes too big, the sleeves swallowing his hands, paired with cargo jeans that sag lazily around his waist. He looks nothing like the sleek figure he becomes when draped in your creations—nothing like the version of him the world gets to see.

“What disaster am I modeling today?” he teases, collapsing onto your worn-out couch with a dramatic sigh, legs sprawled like he owns the place. You don’t mind; he’s been a fixture in your space for as long as you can remember, the living canvas to your creations.

You roll your eyes, tossing a cushion at him. “It’s not a disaster. And if you hate my designs so much, stop coming over.”

“I never said I hated them,” he grins, effortlessly catching the pillow. “I just like giving you a hard time.”

Your fingers curl against your sleeve as warmth creeps up your neck. You gesture to the clothing rack, where tonight's creation awaits. The piece you’ve made is bolder than usual — a fitted, asymmetrical jacket, intricate embroidery trailing along the back like poetry, paired with tailored trousers that hug the body just right.

Hyunjin whistles low, standing up to examine the outfit. He stretches, and for a fleeting second, the hem of his oversized hoodie lifts slightly, revealing a sliver of skin. Your pulse stutters.

“You made this for me?” he asks, voice laced with something unreadable.

“Of course,” you murmur, forcing yourself to look away, feigning interest in a stray thread on your sleeve. “Who else would I make it for?”

He disappears into the bathroom to change, and when he steps out, you forget how to breathe.

The sharp angles of his jawline stand out more with the buzzcut, and the clean lines of the outfit mold against him like it was meant for no one else. He’s like a living sculpture, every angle carefully carved, every movement fluid and precise. You’ve memorized his form over the years—his shoulders, the curve of his collarbone, the length of his limbs. But now, standing before you like this, he’s something more.

“Well?” he prompts, spinning around with a smug grin. “Do I look good, or do I look amazing?”

He looks stunning, as always, but it’s not just the clothes. It’s him — the way he carries himself, the way he looks at you like you’re the most interesting person in the room, even when you’re silently stitching for hours.

You swallow hard. “You look… perfect.”

⭑.ᐟ

It wasn’t always like this.

Hyunjin used to live in oversized shirts and beat-up sneakers, his hair long enough to tie back. He had no interest in fashion, claiming it was “too much effort” to care about what he wore. But then you started designing, and he started modeling, and bit by bit, you transformed him.

He let you mold him, shape him, change him.

His closet shifted from basic streetwear to an eclectic collection of pieces that screamed you. And somewhere along the way, your designs changed, too. The pieces you made for him became more daring, more intimate. Low-cut necklines, snug fits, fabrics that clung to his skin like a second layer of you. And not once did he refused.

You taught him how to carry himself differently, how the right clothes could alter his presence. You buzzed his hair on a whim one night, your fingers trembling as they skimmed his scalp. He trusted you completely, letting you shape him like clay, never once questioning why he was always your first call.

And now, when Hyunjin walks into a room, people notice. His presence is magnetic, drawing others in with effortless ease. You pretended it didn’t bother you when he came back with stories of girls slipping their numbers into his pockets. You smiled and nodded, ignoring the ache in your chest.

He never knew the truth — that every stitch, every fabric choice, every outfit was a love letter you were too afraid to write with words.

⭑.ᐟ

“Stand still,” you mutter, adjusting the sleeve of the jacket.

Hyunjin obeys, but you can feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. You try to ignore it, focusing on the garment instead, but your hands are trembling, fingers brushing against his skin more than necessary.

“Why do I feel like a doll?” Hyunjin murmurs, voice softer now, laced with something unspoken.

“You are,” you reply absentmindedly, fingers brushing against his skin as you adjust the lapel. “My muse.”

His breath hitches, but you don’t notice — or you pretend not to.

Silence settles between you, thick and unyielding. You step into his space again, fingers smoothing down the fabric against his chest. Your brow furrowing in concentration. But Hyunjin… Hyunjin is watching you with something fragile, something raw.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, shifting slightly. “I don’t know. You get all quiet when I get close to you. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you whisper, throat tight. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it drop, watching you with a softness that makes your chest ache.

You finish pinning the last adjustment, stepping back to admire your work. But Hyunjin doesn’t move.

He just looks at you. He watches the way your teeth graze your lower lip, the way your brow furrows when you’re deep in thought. And suddenly, he can’t do this anymore.

He’s loved you for years, silently, hopelessly. But standing here, with you so close, your hands on him, your voice calling him your muse like he’s something precious — it breaks him.

And then—

He moves.

His hands find your waist, tentative yet urgent, and before you can react, before you can stop this, he pulls you in and kisses you.

It’s sudden, messy, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that steals the air from your lungs. Your eyes widen, body frozen in shock, and as quickly as it happens, Hyunjin pulls away, panic flashing across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers, stepping away like he’s been burned. “I—I don’t know why I did that. I’ll go.”

He turns to leave, but you grab his wrist, heart pounding.

And without thinking—without hesitation—you pull him back. And this time, you kiss him.

This time, it’s slower, more certain. Your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close, grounding yourself in him. Hyunjin exhales against your lips, his hands tentative as they find your waist.

When you finally break apart, your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling in the quiet.

“I thought you’d be mad,” Hyunjin whispers.

A shakly laugh bubbles from your throat. “I’ve been in love with you forever, Hyun.”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“That’s why you’re my muse,” you confess, voice breaking. “I needed an excuse to keep you close.”

Hyunjin lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he pulls you into his arms. “I thought it was one-sided.”

You shake your head, burying your face in his chest. “You idiot.”

And when he kisses you again, there’s no hesitation, no fear. Just love, stitched between the seams of every design, woven into every thread, waiting—patiently—to be unraveled.

That night, you don’t finish your adjustments. The blazer lies forgotten on the floor as Hyunjin pulls you onto the couch, cradling your face like you’re the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

And maybe you are — but so is he.

Your muse. Your best friend. Your love.

Yours. Finally.

© 2025 all rights reserved to user nujeskz

[tsunodaradio]

something to you ⛐ 𝐀𝐀𝟐𝟑

alex has a soft spot for you. (or: the one where alex gets mad on your behalf.)

♫ starring: alex albon x reader. ♫ word count: 0.9k. ♫ includes: fluff, romance. profanity. reader has a teensy tiny injury. carlos makes an appearance. ♫ commentary box: happy alex day! ❥ i have a couple more alex plots planned, but for now, here's my last -ish installment to the soft spot mini-series. 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You thought you’ve seen Alex in every possible light. 

You’ve known him for quite a bit, after all. It’s the type of friendship that has ebbed and flowed despite distance and time. You’ve been given a front row to the dozens of men that Alex has been throughout the years. 

The happy-go-lucky, well-spoken Alex the racing world knew. The relentless Alex who drove with grit and grace. He’s come to you with tears of frustration over losses beyond his control; he’s come to you beaming because of wins he rightfully deserved 

Those are the versions of Alex that you know. And so you’re colored surprise to meet another one— 

He’s kneeling in front of you now, his hand cupping your cheek. This is an expression you haven’t seen on Alex’s face in… ever, really. His jaw is clenched and there’s a hint of flint in his eyes, a fire that you hadn’t known was possible to see. 

“Hey.” You can tell from that single word that Alex is holding himself back. He’s forcing himself to keep his voice level, to not scare you off. Even now, he’s considerate.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeats, “I just want to know what happened.” A pause. Then, he adds a softer, “Please.” 

The plea nearly makes you crack. The thing is— it shouldn’t be a big deal. Not to you, at least. It was just an unfortunate incident, a case of overzealous paparazzi recognizing you.  

One of them had gotten just a little bit too pushy. They had insisted something about you being the newest WAG on the paddock, and when you tried to slip away, they’d tried to get their shot anyway after calling you something like a stuck-up bitch.

The cut between your eyebrows is negligible. It’s a barely-there gash, something you know will scar over and heal in no time. 

Alex is treating it like the photographer had broken your bone. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice cracking on the second word. You clear your throat before you go on, “I’m sure they didn’t mean it.” 

Carlos interrupts from a couple of paces away. “It was not an accident,” the older driver says, his lips pursed in poorly concealed rage. He had been the first to get to you; had been the one to call over Alex when he noticed the cut that hadn’t been there earlier that day. “They are saying the paparazzi swung.” 

Alex hisses in a breath through his teeth. You wince. Carlos slinks away, as if realizing this is not a conversation he should be taking part in. 

Little too late, you think wryly as Alex’s searching gaze rakes over your face.

“I need a name,” he says evenly. “If not a name, a media outlet. Or any descriptors.” 

You glance at Carlos over Alex’s shoulder, but the Spaniard has opted to feign disinterest by reading a nearby sports issue. (The magazine is upside down.) With a low tsk of disapproval, you finally give Alex an answer to his question. “Someone from Getty.” 

The heat in Alex’s eyes simmers just the slightest. He gives your cheek a tentative squeeze, and his hand lingers a little too long, like he’s hesitant to pull away. He gets to his feet, though, leaving you seated in his driver room chair. 

He flashes you a smile. It looks a little forced. “Be right back, okay? Don’t have too much fun with Carlos. I’ll know if you talked shit about me.” 

Even the joke sounds weak. 

Alex moves out of the room, his strides determined. He’s just a little hasty, so he ends up leaving the door slightly ajar in his hurry. You open your mouth to comment on it to Carlos, but the two of you freeze at the barking sound of Alex’s voice from somewhere in the motorhome. 

“Get me on the phone with Getty fucking Images!”

You and Carlos share a look. 

“Whew,” Carlos breathes, putting down the magazine. “I have never seen him like that before.” 

“That makes two of us,” you respond, wringing your hands together in your lap.

Alex has been many things— annoyed, critical, upset. Angry is new. Not only to you and Carlos, it seems, as the people of Williams scramble to accommodate the stewing driver. 

By the time Alex has deemed things sorted, he returns with that same plastic smile. Carlos actually excuses himself this time, shooting you a mouthed ‘good luck’ halfway out of the door. 

“Do you want a bandage?” Alex asks you. “Or I can get you checked out, if it hurts.” 

“Alex.” 

“I think there’s actually a first-aid kit here somewhere.” 

“Alex.” 

“I was looking it up earlier, and antiseptic—” 

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. He finally stops, his face flushing a bit. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and you have the impression that he’s not apologizing solely for his rambling.

You squeeze his wrist reassuringly. There’s a lot of things you could do. Tease him for his fretting; ask him why he got so riled up in the first place. In the end, all you can manage is a soft and sincere, “Thank you.” 

Alex’s rage crumples like a house of cards. He lets out a single, shaky exhale and tilts down.

It’s negligible. Barely there. The kiss Alex plants on your forehead is more of a brush of his lips, right over the injury you thought wouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

This, though— the kiss, the anger— it all feels like it should mean something. ⛐

[gdinthehouseee]

Stars Rewritten (bonus smau): KWON JI-YONG x READER

main fic

[VIEW COMMENTS]

User: not both of them liking it LMAOOO

User (reply): they're both probably just laughing at us rn istg-

User: pls tell me this is real

User: IT'S HAPPENINGGG

User: this is SICK and TWISTED and IM SO HERE FOR IT--

User: that better be gd or its on sight

User: 2025 YEAR OF GD AND Y/N LETS GOOO

User: NOT HIM LIKING THE DAMN POST

User: wdym no caption needed... GIRL

User (reply): tags definitely needed tho i swear

User: he's being oddly silent, i fear he's cooking something up himself

User: he liked it...

User: CONFIRMATION???

User: oh he's EVIL for this

User (reply): so is y/n for posting them pics lmaooo

User: sir? SIR??

Ji-yong leans against the back of the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders as he scrolls through his phone. His lips twitch into a smirk every few seconds, and every time he lets out a quiet, amused hum, you know he’s found another dramatic reaction.

“Look at this one,” he chuckles, turning his screen to you.

“I HAVEN’T HAD A PEACEFUL NIGHT SINCE 2017 AND IT’S THEIR FAULT.”

You let out a snort, curling deeper into his side. “I mean… they’re not wrong.”

He takes another sip of his wine, eyes still locked on his phone. His legs are propped up on the coffee table, feet crossed at the ankles, completely at ease despite the absolute mayhem unfolding online.

“They think I accidentally liked that tweet,” he muses.

You scoff, stealing his glass for a sip. “As if you do anything accidentally.”

He grins, tugging his phone back and tapping the screen. “True.”

“They’d sell their souls for confirmation at this point,” you tease, nudging him.

He hums thoughtfully, setting his phone down before wrapping both arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Should we give it to them?” His voice is low, teasing, warm against your ear.

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. Nah.”

His laughter rumbles against your back as he tightens his hold. “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, grinning as he watches the numbers climb on both of your posts—millions of likes, thousands of comments, the internet still on fire. Finally, he sighs, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We should do this more often.”

You laugh, leaning into him. “What? Ruin the internet?”

“Exactly.”

Ji-yong has been watching you scroll through the chaos for the past twenty minutes, his smirk growing lazier, his fingers tapping idly against your thigh. He’s amused, entertained—but there’s something else, something darker flickering in his gaze as he watches you absolutely revel in the mayhem you’ve created. You’re grinning, curled up comfortably in his lap, casually sipping his wine while the internet burns to the ground over your cryptic posts. The way you tilt your head, the smug little smile playing on your lips, the effortless way you keep the world hanging onto your every move…

Yeah, it’s doing something to him.

His hand tightens slightly around your waist. You don’t notice right away, too busy laughing at yet another tweet. “Oh my god—someone just said, ‘At this point, I’m not even mad, I’m just impressed. They’re playing us like a damn violin.’”

He huffs a laugh, but his focus isn’t on the screen anymore—it’s on you. The way you bite your lip, eyes gleaming with mischief, fully aware of the chaos you’re stirring.

His voice drops lower, smoother. “You like messing with them, don’t you?”

“Obviously.”

He hums, fingers sliding a little higher up your thigh, tracing lazy patterns. “It’s kinda hot.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Huh?”

Ji-yong smirks, eyes dark and half-lidded as he leans in, lips barely brushing your ear. “Watching you do this. Teasing them, keeping them guessing… knowing exactly what you’re doing.” His fingers press just a little firmer against your waist. “You know how to keep them on edge. Just like you do with me.”

Your breath catches for half a second, and he notices. Of course he does.

“Oh?” His smirk deepens. “Nothing to say?”

You roll your eyes, recovering quickly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He chuckles, low and smug, before tilting his head toward your phone. “Post something else.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

His fingers trail up your arm, slow, deliberate. “Because I wanna watch them lose their minds again.” Then, lower, almost like a confession—“And I wanna watch you enjoy it.”

Your heart skips a beat. Damn him.

You pretend to think for a moment before unlocking your phone and climbing off his lap. You can feel Ji-yong’s gaze burning into you as you go to your Instagram story, smirking to yourself as you prop your phone up so you can take a picture, with him just in the corner. Just for the hell of it, you tag him. 

The moment it's uploaded, your notifications explode.

You’re perched in his lap again, now facing him, your legs straddling his thighs as you scroll through the endless chaos unfolding online. His hands rest lazily on your waist, but there’s nothing casual about the way his fingers tighten every time you smirk at the screen.

“Ji-yong,” you say, feigning concern, tilting your head at him. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours—hooded, smoldering. “Just enjoying the show.”

You let out a hum, dragging your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. His grip on your waist tightens.

“They’re really losing it over that last post,” you muse, scrolling lazily through your notifications. “Oh, look—someone just tweeted: ‘If they don’t confirm this soon, I will personally walk into the ocean.’”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but his focus isn’t on your phone anymore. His gaze flickers from your lips to your fingers still playing in his hair, then back to the smug look on your face. You know exactly what you’re doing.

You tilt your head, watching him. “Something on your mind?”

His hands slide up your waist, slow and deliberate. “You.”

You grin, dragging your nails lightly along his scalp just to watch the way his eyelids flutter. “Mm. Flattering.”

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

“The teasing.” His fingers flex against your sides, his voice dropping an octave. “Driving them crazy. Driving me crazy.”

Your grin turns wicked. “Oh? Am I driving you crazy?”

He exhales, tipping his head back against the couch. “You have no idea.”

You hum, dragging your fingers down his chest this time, slow, teasing. “I don’t know… you seem pretty in control to me.”

His hands tighten around your waist, and when he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher. “Not for long.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t let him see you falter. Instead, you smirk, leaning in until your lips just barely brush his.

“Good,” you whisper.

Then, just to be an absolute menace, you grab your phone and snap a quick photo—your face hidden, just Ji-yong’s hands on your waist.

You post it immediately. The internet erupts.

He swears under his breath as he hears the notification flood in instantaneously. “You’re insane.”

You grin, tossing your phone aside before looping your arms around his neck. “You love it.”

Ji-yong doesn’t even hesitate this time.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, flipping you onto the couch. “I do.”

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @mattsturniolosbabymama @redhoodedtoad @bettelaboure @cinnamonbear22 @xxxicddbr88 @infinetlyforgotten @babygirlewis @loveesiren @tulentiy @babyrvis @ldydeath @wcnderlands @eru-vande @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull @aizshallnotbefound 

[slut4thebroken]

Va Va Voom

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x reader

Summary | “Cause I know he got a wife at home, but I need just one night alone.”

Warnings | Smut, cheating (lmaoo sorry, Nora), sloppy toppy (obviously), deep throating, face fucking, gagging, throat pie, riding, multiple orgasms, vibrator, emotional manipulation??, creampie, reader isn’t necessarily dominant but she’s definitely very confident.

Words | 3.5 k

Notes | Idk everytime I’ve listened to this song I’ve wanted to write a fic inspired by it lol so here it is.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Also I think I’ve always subconsciously thought of Emmett for this song because I have an edit of him saved with it😭 but like Cillian or Tommy were also options and I almost went with Cillian because of “cause he look like a superstar in the makin” and “cause it look like he modelin' clothes in Dublin” but idk I just don’t think he’d literally ever cheat skdhsk

You weren’t stupid— you could see the ring on his left hand, clear as day. While you may not have been stupid, you’ve always been bold…

Which is how you found yourself beside Emmett, nursing your second cocktail while he drank his beer. Originally he was watching the game on the tv, but now he was engaged in conversation with you… doing his best not to stare at your tits…

“So, what are you doing here all alone anyway? I don’t think I asked yet.” 

“I usually go to the bar after work on Fridays.”

“I see… There’s no one waiting for you at home then?” You already knew the answer, but you asked anyway. 

“No- uh,” he said, clearing his throat almost uncomfortably, “my wife and two boys are home.” 

“Ah.” You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. “Are they young?” 

“Five and seven.”

“Wow. I don’t blame you for coming here after such a long day at work. Must be pretty stressful going home to that.” You were purposefully trying to empathize with him, laying the groundwork for your eventual proposal. 

“I know my wife probably needs the help, but.. it’s just…” 

“I get it.” You smiled. “It’s not selfish to indulge in some pleasure for yourself every once in a while. You deserve a break too.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffed, taking another sip of his beer, “pleasure is hard to come by these days.” He muttered. It almost seemed like the words slipped out before he even realized what he was saying. 

“I’m sure it is. Two boys sounds exhausting— and on top of that you’re working all day?” You shook your head in disapproval. “If I were married, I’d never let my husband feel so neglected.” 

“She’s not… like that.” He said, almost reluctantly. 

“No? When’s the last time you’ve fucked her?” He seemed caught off guard by your sudden boldness. Based on his expression alone, you could already tell what his answer was. 

“She’s tired from taking care of the boys, okay? It’s not…” he sighed quietly. “We would if we both had the energy.” 

You hummed in acknowledgment and brought your drink up to your lips again. “Is she your age?” 

“Only a few years younger.” 

“Ah… Now it’s all making sense. I don’t blame her for being so tired.” You gave him a sympathetic look, but you couldn’t quite read his expression. “I don’t know… I’d hate myself if my husband was so unsatisfied— whether it was or wasn’t my fault.” He looked away and cleared his throat again. “You know what both of you probably need?”

“A vacation?” He scoffed a laugh, but you moved past his response quickly, knowing you were finally getting close. 

“Too much planning and effort.” You said dismissively. “I’m sure someone younger— someone with more energy— would be exactly what you need. Same for her.” 

“We’re not in an open marriage.” Was all he said. 

“I wasn’t implying you should be. But every once in a while, you should be allowed to feel taken care of. Wouldn’t you want her to feel that way?” 

“Would I want her to cheat on me? No.” He scoffed. You stared at him for a moment, then looked away and finished the rest of your drink. He almost seemed disappointed when you called the bartender over for your check. After you signed it, you grabbed a napkin and wrote down your address, then slid it over to him.

“If you change your mind, I’ll still be up for a while.” You gave him one last smile before walking out. 

Honestly you weren’t completely sure what he would do. You were hoping your inkling was right though. 

After getting home, you tidied up a bit and lit a candle just in case, then you waited. It was barely half an hour later that you heard a knock on the door.

Emmett was standing outside and you smiled when you saw him, then opened the door wider for him to come in. He hesitated for only a moment before tentatively stepping inside. 

“I can’t stay long…” 

“I take it that means you don’t want a drink?” When he didn’t immediately answer, you started walking to the living room— You had a feeling that doing this in a bed would be too much for him. “Either way, we won’t be getting to the main event for a little while so I’m sure you can have something small. I have whiskey, bourbon, and wine.” 

“Uh… Bourbon.” 

When you started walking to the kitchen, he hesitated. “You can sit down and make yourself comfortable.” All he did was nod and head over to the couch. After pouring some of the bourbon into a glass, you walked back over and handed it to him. 

“Thanks.” He watched you get down on your knees, his eyes widening. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to… But you can’t stay long and I figured you wouldn’t want to kiss.” You explained, waiting for his permission before continuing. He cleared his throat, then nodded and chugged some of the bourbon. “Just relax, Emmett. Enjoy your drink and let me take care of you.”

You placed your hands on his thighs and slowly snaked them up, then used one to palm his erection over his jeans. He let out a shaky breath and settled back into the couch more, making you smirk a little.  

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, still just rubbing his growing bulge. 

“Uh… My birthday, a few months ago.” He said, sounding almost embarrassed. 

“Think you can finish twice?”

“Probably.”

“Good.” You smiled, finally starting to unbutton his jeans. He drank more of the bourbon, barely able to look at you as you pulled his erection out of his pants and underwear. You bit your lip and took it in your hand, stroking him slowly. If you were married to someone with such an attractive cock, you’d be offering up your holes 24/7, regardless of how tired you were. 

When you suddenly enveloped the tip in your mouth, he let out a choked sound. You suckled gently while still stroking the rest of his cock, just trying to get him warmed up before you really got started. 

“Would you rather I control the pace or do you want to fuck my throat?” You suddenly asked, making his eyes widen the slightest bit. In response, he tentatively placed his free hand on the back of your head. You grasped his thighs and started bobbing up and down, waiting for him to take over. When he still hesitated, you rolled your eyes and took his cock all the way in your throat, forcing a grunt out of him. As you stayed in place, his hand finally grabbed onto your hair, then started slowly pulling you up and down. 

He released a low, gravelly moan and let his head fall back on the couch, grunting each time his cock slipped past your throat barrier into the suffocating heat of your esophagus. 

“Fuck…” He groaned, taking a lazy sip of his drink. If your lips weren’t stretched around his cock, you would’ve smirked at how easily he came undone. When he pushed you all the way down and held you there, you stuck your tongue out to start lapping at his balls, making his hips flinch up, choking you. He cursed under his breath and tightened his grip on your hair, his hips gyrating against your face with his cock lodged deep in your throat. 

After another moment, he finally let you pull back. You panted heavily, watching him down the rest of his drink, then set the glass on the side table.  

“Feeling good?” You asked, just wanting to be sure.

“Very.” He said breathily, making you smile. You wrapped your lips around his cock again and he gathered all of your hair in his hand, then started pushing you down and pulling you back up. You moved one of your hands to gently cup his balls, forcing another guttural sound out of him. Unable to hold back, he started moving you faster. When you finally gagged, he pulled you off again. 

“I’ll pinch you if I need to stop. Just keep going.” You said through heaving breaths. All he could do was nod and resume fucking your throat. He seemed to be going harder and faster now that he knew he didn’t have to stop if you gagged. For the most part, you took it perfectly fine, but you’d gag or choke every once in a while. Spit was rolling down his cock to his balls and your hand, making you finally pinch him. He let go and you immediately reached for his pants and underwear, pulling them down to his ankles. 

“I didn’t want to get anything on your clothes.” You explained. “While I have more room though…” You pushed his thighs open a little more, then dove down, this time aiming for his balls. He cursed under his breath and his grip on your hair tightened as you sucked and licked shamelessly. 

“Jesus-” He choked out, spreading his legs wider for you. Another moan slipped out when you grabbed his cock to start pumping slowly, adding to the pleasure. Finally, he tugged on your hair and let out what you could only describe as a whine. “I’m getting close already.” 

You chuckled quietly, but relented. “Come down my throat,” you told him before putting your mouth back on his cock. He eagerly resumed fucking your throat and the sounds filling the room were obscene— your moans and his grunts, accompanied by the wet sounds of your throat each time his cock plunged deep. 

You were still gagging, tears brimming in your eyes, but his cock was practically throbbing in your mouth… You didn’t want to make him wait for his much needed release just because you kept choking. So you moved your hands behind your back and clasped them together to keep yourself from pinching his leg to let you pull off. 

“Fuck— I’m coming.” He choked out, jerking your head on his cock a few more times before releasing your hair to grab your skull and pull you all the way down. Your nose was buried in the tuft of hair at the base, his twitching balls pressed firmly against your chin, and his pulsing cock nestled deep in your snug throat. 

His grunts were practically feral as his hips bucked upward, desperately trying to bury his cock impossibly deeper. You gagged so hard that your body convulsed and tears finally fell down your cheeks, but he was so preoccupied with his orgasm that you didn’t think he would’ve let you pull off whether you wanted to or not. 

After another moment, all of his come was unloaded down your throat, but he didn’t let go yet. He panted heavily and savored the feeling of your esophagus convulsing around the sensitive tip of his cock. As his panting calmed down, he slowly loosened his grip on your head, then let you finally pull off. You coughed a little and struggled to catch your breath, swallowing down the remaining come that wasn’t immediately shot down your throat. 

“You really needed that, didn’t you?” You asked with a small smile and he scoffed a laugh, keeping his head leaned back on the couch and his eyes closed. 

“I can’t even remember the last time I’ve gotten head like that.” He said breathily.  

“Can I still ride you or do you want to be done?” He finally let out a heavy breath and opened his eyes to look down at you. 

“You haven’t come yet though.” That almost made you laugh a little bit. 

“I’m not the one who hasn’t fucked someone in months. Plus, I can just finish with my vibrator after you leave if you want to head out.” He swallowed thickly and checked his watch for the time, then looked away, thinking. You rubbed a soothing hand over his bare thigh as you waited patiently for his response. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He said weakly. 

“I’m clean and on the pill.” He bit his lip, still not looking at you. The fact that he was hesitating wasn’t exactly a good sign, but you continued waiting patiently. 

“I just finished that bourbon a few minutes ago… so I should probably wait a little longer before I drive home.” You tried not to roll your eyes at his excuse. 

“Exactly.” He watched you stand up and reach behind yourself to unzip your dress. When you pulled it off and dropped it on the floor, he swallowed thickly, his gaze dragging over your body and lacy lingerie. “Do you want me to leave it on or take it off?” Usually you’d do whatever you were in the mood for, but this was about Emmett. 

“Panties off.” He said simply. You pushed the fabric down your legs, then stepped out of them. He was completely entranced as he watched you kneel over his lap and grab his half hard cock to line up. When you slowly sunk down, his hands practically flew to your hips and his head fell back on the couch with a low mewl. You’re no virgin obviously, but Emmett was decently big so the stretch stung a little— However, you weren’t even slightly deterred. 

“God- you’re so fucking tight.” He grunted, making you smirk. “I forgot how g-good it feels raw…” He choked out, struggling to calm his breathing. 

Once you were fully seated on his cock, you paused, giving him a moment. “You okay?” You asked softly, running your fingers through his hair while your other hand rested flat on his chest. He nodded, but kept his eyes closed. “Yeah?” You mused, making him just nod again. “Can I start moving?”

“Please.” He choked out, his grip flexing on your hips. You began slowly rocking back and forth, letting him get used to the sensation a little longer. “More.” He all but whined. So you switched it up to start lifting yourself up, then dropping back down at a tortuously slow speed. You wanted nothing more than to bounce on his cock and fuck yourself silly, but it wasn’t about you… 

“Touch me, Emmett.” You ordered softly, making him finally lift his head and open his eyes again. His hands snaked up your waist to squeeze and grope your tits as he stared at them, completely entranced. He pulled your bra down below your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers experimentally, making you curse under your breath. 

“Fuck… these tits…” He gruffed, unable to look away. You smirked at his reaction, but didn’t comment on it. 

Finally getting worked up enough to go at your own pace, you suddenly sped up, making him grunt. You bounced on his lap as fast as your legs would allow. He moved his hands to your ass to guide your movements a little, but also so he could watch the way your tits moved as you rode him. 

“Your cock feels so fucking good.” You moaned breathily, letting your eyes roll back as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the stretch. “So big…” You couldn’t believe that his wife wasn’t eager to have this cock inside her all the damn time, because you certainly were. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer…” He choked out, and you tried not to audibly groan because you didn’t want to make him feel bad. 

“That’s okay. Vibrator, remember?” You chuckled half heartedly— a little disappointed that you wouldn’t be coming on his cock. When he reached a hand between your legs, you reluctantly pulled it away. “Emmett, honestly, I have all the time in the world for getting off and all the energy I need to hook up with people whenever I want. I just want to make you feel good.” 

“Fine.” He said, but his tone lacked resignation, making you a little skeptical. “Go get your vibrator.” Your brows shot up and your movements slowed to a stop. “Now, before I blow my load in two fucking seconds.” He growled impatiently. 

You stared at him for another moment, then scoffed a laugh and carefully lifted yourself off his cock to go retrieve the toy— This was definitely a pleasant surprise. 

When you returned, you eagerly climbed back on his lap and sat on his cock, then put the vibrator on your clit and turned it on. He let out a choked moan at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him and you bit down on your lip, barely holding back a loud, almost pornographic moan. 

“Keep going.” He practically begged, bringing his hands to your hips. You started bouncing on his cock again, having a harder time focusing on keeping your movements fluid and constant. 

Emmett’s hands snaked up your back to unclasp your bra and you helped him pull it off your arms, dropping it to the floor. He groaned loudly at the sight of your tits bouncing wildly as you rode him. 

When his phone started ringing, both of you froze, just staring at each other for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat and reached down to his pants that were still around his ankles, grabbing his phone. You turned off the vibrator with a quiet whine of displeasure, but let him answer. 

“Hey, hon.” He said awkwardly. You started slowly moving up and down, making his free hand squeeze your hip hard enough to bruise. “Yeah, I’ll be home soon. Just lost track of time watching the game.” He bit his lip to muffle his sounds. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” 

The moment he hung up and tossed his phone to the other side of the couch, it was like he just snapped. He planted his feet on the floor and grabbed both of your hips, then started bucking up into you almost savagely. 

“Fuck! Oh my god.” You cried out, moaning loudly. With one hand bracing yourself on the back of the couch, the other brought the vibrator back down to your clit. “Don’t stop— Please don’t stop, I’m so close!” He didn’t bother with a response, focusing on pounding you hard and fast, sending you hurtling toward the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, the intense feeling of him fucking you being doubled by the vibrator. He groaned at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his cock, fluttering wildly as you rode it out. Even after the pleasure faded, he kept rapidly bucking up into you, ignoring your pained whimpers as he focused on his own pleasure. 

Letting out a low, borderline feral growl, he slammed your body down on his lap, impaling you fully on his length. He was grunting and moaning quietly, his cock twitching inside your sensitive hole, spurting out ropes of hot come. 

You whined at how deep he felt, unable to do anything other than sit here and take it with how strong his grip was. Only after he drained his balls completely did his grip finally loosen, no longer tight enough to cause bruises. Both of you panted heavily for a while and you let your head drop down, moaning softly when you saw the way your stomach was bulging from his cock. 

You waited for both of you to recover a little bit, then you gently lifted yourself off his cock, forcing a quiet grunt out of him. Not wasting any time, you quickly got down on your knees again and lapped up the rivulets of come that were dripping down his cock to his balls, making sure the mess couldn’t spread anywhere else. He hissed at the sensitivity and his cock twitched, but you were done before he could react any further. Even as you raised his pants and underwear to his thighs, he still remained boneless on the couch. 

“Do you want a coffee for the road?” You asked, knowing he had to go sooner rather than later. 

“No, I’ll be fine.” He sighed. After another moment, he finally got to his feet. You were pulling his clothes up the rest of the way before he had a chance to do it himself. “Thanks.” He said, staring down at you as you tucked his softening cock away, then buttoned his pants. 

“Don’t mention it.” You smiled. When he held out his hand, you grabbed it and rose to your feet. Your nude body next to his fully clothed one made you blush, but you were far from shy or embarrassed. “I hope you feel at least a little taken care of?” All he could do was nod. “Good. You deserve it.” You reminded him. 

You could tell he felt awkward as you both walked to the front door, but you were completely relaxed— especially after that orgasm.  

“Um…” He swallowed thickly, struggling to maintain eye contact and not look at your body. “Thanks.” He said again, and you chuckled quietly, amused by his struggle to find words. 

“If you ever need to blow off some steam again or relax… you know where to find me.” You said suggestively, looking up at him through your lashes, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Once again, all he could do was nod, so you opened the door for him, letting him walk out, already knowing he’d be back eventually. 

[februarysmoonlight]

not today, maybe tomorrow

aka your childhood best friend (and crush) came back… different.

———

you’ve been patching up jason for a long time.

it started when you were both just kids. he’d come to you with the injuries he didn’t want to show his father, and you, who had experience in patching people up, were happy to help. mostly you were eager to spend any time with him he would give, even if that meant brutal gunshots and ugly stab wounds. you refused to admit to yourself that you had a ginormous crush on him— but you did. it was a secret that sat on your chest like an elephant: you are in love with jason todd.

then he died, and that excitement became grief. you became a nurse, fixing people up for a living because it was the only thing you were really good at. you spent years just… stuck. stuck on him, stuck in the past, stuck wishing he didn’t die.

and then jason came back, and it was just different.

the first time, he stumbled in through your apartment window, bleeding buckets from a bullet lodged in his shoulder. he failed to come to you as red hood (because you pointed a tiny little revolver at him and he was in no position to leave), so you were the first one who saw him as jason. still, he refused to say a word. not when you cried so hard your hands shook, not in the hours you spent fixing him up, not when you begged him to stay, to come back.

you didn’t see him after that for nearly six months. you were starting to think it was a dream. you had all but convinced yourself the blood on your windowsill came from your own hands, that this version of jason was a cruel manifestation of just how much you missed him.

but it happened again, and again, his visits growing more frequent as time went on. before, he only came to you when he was circling the drain. now all it takes is a deep cut in the arm for him to request aid from your gentle hands. he spoke almost exclusively in its better than it looks, and thank you’s, but at least he spoke.

you hate this arrangement. you really do. you want jason, all of him, your friend, and the boy you loved back. you want him to actually speak, talk to you like he’s your friend and not your patient. you’re tired of being woken up in the middle of the night to put a bandaid on his injuries. you’re tired of dropping everything to get nothing in return. but what’s the alternative? losing him? not when you just got him back.

not when you love him so much. so much your chest hurts when you think about what would happen if you asked for more.

but it’s draining. being jason’s on call personal doctor— no matter how much you care about him, you’re not sure how much you have left in you.

“my therapist said i need to start saying no to you. put myself first.” you say, pulling the thread through jason’s wound, sewing it closed.

“smart lady. you should listen to her.” he says, flickering his eyes up to yours.

“you wouldn’t come back if i stopped sewing you up.”

“that’s not true.”

you don’t respond to that. it’s too vulnerable, the way his eyes chase yours while you stare down at the gash on his arm, running a sewing needle back and forth through his skin. you don’t know what to think, it’s far too late and you’re far too tired to have any idea what it is you want from him.

you’re scared. scared that if you stop doing this for him you’ll lose him all over again. scared that you’re nothing more than a private medic. scared that the moment you ask for more than 2 am visits and blood stained carpets you’ll get left behind.

he sighs, pulling you out of your head just as you finish the last stitch. you cut the thread with a pair of grooming scissors, tying a small knot to keep everything in place. you look up at him, noting the frown firmly tugging at his features, and the defeated expression in his eye.

“you’re good to go.” you say, leaning back, putting your supplies back into your first aid kit, wiping the blood on your hands against the white box.

“thank you.”

he stands with a small groan, slipping back into his costume. you focus on cleaning up, refusing to look up at him as he walks back towards the window where he came, his combat boots scraping against the floor.

“i’ll come back.” he says, quietly, with his hands hooked under the windowsill.

sure you will you think, but instead you simply nod, keeping your eyes trained on the blood stains in your carpet. you know if you look back up at him the tears stinging your eyes will spill, and you’ll lose the scraps of jason you’re so determined to keep.

he sighs, pushing himself through the window, and just like that, he’s gone. just like the first time, the only confirmation you have that he is real are the droplets of blood running down your fingertips.

you wait for him to come back. one hour, one night, one week. you feel stupid, hoping so desperately he’ll come when you know he won’t. at least, not without a near-fatal wound you have to magically heal. anxiety overwhelms any thoughts of him— did you scare him off? was that moment too much for him?

you feel like such an idiot, that is, until he returns. you don’t expect it to be him when you open the door. because it’s only six p.m and he’s… at the door… and not breaking and entering through your window…

but, to your surprise, it’s him.

jason, who isn’t making eye contact and you can only assume it has something to do with how absolutely rigid his stance is. jason, who is white knuckling a bouquet of lilies with one hand and a bag of takeout from your favorite guilty pleasure restaurant with the other. you didn’t realize he remembered your favorites, not after all this time.

“ah- shit.” he says, looking up at you with those ice blue eyes. this is the first time in… you can’t even remember how long that he’s come to you just as jason, no red hood attached.

“jason?” you ask, your eyebrows knitting unconsciously together. he looks back down, mumbling something along the lines of i look like a jackass.

“i’m late.” he says, looking back up to you. you swallow down a wad of spit that resembles your overwhelming anxiety. you can feel the crush that you can never seem to kick bubbling up again, fighting to spill over the surface, as your eyes go back and forth from the flowers, the food, and him.

you nod, staring at him blankly, unsure of what to expect. he awkwardly shoves the bouquet towards you, taking a breath.

“i told you i’d come back.” he says, while you take the flowers from his hand. it’s not a cheap grocery store bouquet either, the flowers are fresh and perky, arranged professionally with baby’s breath, the stems cut carefully at an angle.

you look up at him, gently bringing the lilies to your nose. “are you hurt?” you ask, because honestly, you’re confused as to why jason would be here without a knife jammed in his back.

he grimaces, shaking his head. “no, i— fuck. i’m fine, i just— i wanted to say… look, i’m sorry.”

your eyes widen. you lower the flowers and press them against your stomach, confused and nervous and excited all at once. “…for?” you prompt, tilting your head.

he sighs, forcing the words out like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “i’ve been a real asshole. i, uh… i should’ve been treating you better, y’know, not waking you up ‘cause i’m bleeding just enough to get to see you. not leaving you behind over and over.” he omits the part that some nights he’s less careful than others because he wants to see you so badly it hurts. “‘cause…” he starts, taking a deep breath. “i really care about you. and it took me way too long to get my head out of my ass and realize you deserve better. and a week ago, that meant getting the hell out of your life before i ruined it. today that means doing everything i can to make it up to you.”

your heart beats faster than you can bare, your eyes wide. you feel like you’re falling, your stomach doing somersaults as he speaks. just about everything you’ve wanted him to say just fell from his lips, and you don’t know what to say in return.

luckily, he’s not done.

“i brought you the food and the flowers, ‘cause i didn’t want to spring too much on you. i figured i’d wait for you to decide whether or not you hate me before i ask you out on a proper date.” he says, looking up at you.

oh.

now it’s your turn to speak. you don’t know what to say— you’re on cloud nine because the boy you’ve had a crush on for nearly a decade is asking you out. all you can do is look up at him like a complete idiot, while his expression grows more and more nervous.

“would you like to come in?” you ask, finally pushing the words out, praying you don’t sound too gleeful.

for the first time in years, you see him smile. part of its relief, that much you know, but there’s this unfamiliar look in his eye that tells you it’s much, much more. he relaxes, letting his shoulders fall back.

“lead the way.”

———

pause i just want to thank y’all SO MUCH for all the love on my previous fics. i’ve had this acc for like a week and i am so grateful for all of the notes and reblogs and people who have been so kind as to follow me !! this account really is just to force me to write and like… have hobbies so y’all interacting means so much <3 i hope you enjoyed this one !! tysm!!

[xoxoaugust]

holidays

pro footballer!rin itoshi x childhoodbsf!reader

now playing : holidays by Conan Gray

-▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

years have passed since the two of you have seen each other

December 23rd, 2023

You have just landed at the airport, frankly exhausted and drained. Visiting home for the holidays after maybe five years of being away for school, now work. You called your mom, telling her that you’ll be home in a bit since you had just landed.

Tightening your coat around you, you walked out of the airport to find your uber to finally take you home. Sniffling a bit from the cold and taking in the scenery, your mind drifts off to old memories. Snowball fights and putting up wreaths, you really missed it, you missed being a naive little kid.

Your nostalgic break was interrupted by your uber, which finally pulled up to take you home. Staring out the window, you would mentally point out buildings that you remembered from five years ago. Your school, your favorite store, favorite restaurants. You snapped out of the daze you were in and checked your phone for any texts. It was around midnight so you assumed there wouldn’t be any, but unbeknownst to you, a text from an unexpected send would be waiting for you.

12:47 AM

no caller ID

Hey, is this y/n?

You

Who is this??

no caller ID

I don’t think I need to say, I just need to know if this is y/n

You

Then you don’t get to know if this y/n

no caller ID

This is Rin Itoshi.

You

Rin???

Rin Itoshi

Yes?? Can I know if this is y/n now?

You

Yes it’s me, it’s been a while! I haven’t seen you in ages

Rin Itoshi

Yeah I know, I wanted to ask if you’re back in town for holiday season

You

Yeah I am, im gonna be here for around two weeks!

Rin Itoshi

I’m here for two weeks too, we should catch up soon

You

Of course! Let me know if you have a place to go!

Rin Itoshi

👍

You caught yourself smiling at your phone, same old Rin.

You still remember how your childhood best friend was then, and he hasn’t changed. The same considerate nature, the cold demeanor hasn’t changed but his heart was always in the right place. He was always thinking of others, he was the first to remember what people liked and disliked.

In elementary school, people thought he was weird. Falling over on purpose, for fun? Or maybe attention? It was weird, but you didn’t care. You would fall over with him, you would give him bandaids, making sure you always had matching bandaids. You watched him play soccer with his brother, in awe of his talent. You were his number one supporter through and through. The two of you always got popsicles together, that was your favorite thing to do after every hangout. Rin treasures those memories, getting popsicles with you and his older brother.

In middle school/junior high, the two of you got even closer, inseparable even. Everyday after school, the two of you would go off and do whatever. Get food, play soccer, stop by that one cafe that served the coffee that was too bitter for the two of you, so you’d end up getting hot chocolate and writing latte on the cup. Those were the days you’d never forget. You remember going to the airport with Rin to say goodbye to Sae. You also remember how Rin’s face was dull afterwards, so you took him to get popsicles. That’s when you vowed to yourself that you would never let him feel sad like that again.

Come high school, things hadn’t changed between you two, until Sae’s return. Prior to Sae’s return, you would hangout after school at the fields to help him get better at soccer, then go to his house so he could get changed, then go to the cafe so you could “study”. You always had to order for him because he was always too tired to say anything to anyone other than you. Then he would complain about the coffee being too bitter and tasting weird. You would roll your eyes and tell him to order something else, but he never did. That was your little routine everyday for about a year, until Sae. One day he had told you that we would be practicing a little extra that day so you should just wait at the cafe. You waited maybe two hours before deciding to go to the field to make sure he’s okay. News flash, he was far from okay. As you approached the field, you saw two figures conversing. It didn’t take you a while to realize it was Sae, you had grown up with him so you knew it was him. You looked at Rin directly, an unusual distressed look on his face. Before you could move any further, Sae started dribbling the ball to the goal. You watched the situation unfold before your eyes in horror. The defeated look on Rin’s face made it a thousand times worse. You watched Sae walk away, leaving Rin on the ground in shambles. Within seconds, you were on the field in front of Rin, trying to comfort him, trying to make him laugh or smile in any way. He didn’t smile, or laugh at all, he didn’t smile or laugh as much onwards. Your daily hangouts went from fun and laughter and conversation, to just soccer. You missed your Rin a lot, but you knew that he needed someone to rely on. You were always there to listen to what he had to say or complain about. It wasn’t long before he was offered a spot at Blue Lock, and you were off to college. You hadn’t kept in touch, mostly because he wasn’t allowed a phone and you had changed your number since then, plus you went to college in London m. It had been five whole years since you two had spoken, at all.

Your daydreaming was cut short when the Uber had finally pulled up to your driveway. You thanked the driver and grabbed your luggage. Taking in the reality that you’re actually back home, you smiled seeing how everything is just as you left it. You sighed contently, your breath visible due to the crisp cold weather outside. Walking up to the steps of your front patio, you felt warm inside. Everything was blissful as it was, just like when you were younger. Ringing the doorbell, your mother opened the door excitedly, ushering you inside. Though it was your first time back home in a while, your family had come to visit you a few times since you were too busy to go visit them, but it had still been a while since you had seen them. You sat down on the couch in the living room, a cup of hot cocoa in your hands (courtesy of your mother) catching up with your siblings. It was maybe 2:15 AM when you had said goodnight and went to your room. Your room was the same, nothing was moved, definitely cleaned but not moved. You placed your bags in the corner of your room, deciding to take a quick shower after smelling yourself. The ‘quick shower’ was 45 minutes. You got dressed and flopped onto your bed, slightly sore from the uncomfortable plane seats. You picked up your phone to place it on the charger.

3:04 AM

Rin

Hey, does Cherrywood work for tomorrow?

You

Yes! What time do you prefer?

Rin

Does 3:30 work for you? I know you’ll be tired from jet lag.

You

Yes that works! I will see you then, bye!!

Rin

Bye :)

You smiled at your phone before setting it down on the bedside table and falling fast asleep.

That same morning, you woke up around 11:30 AM. The exhaustion in your body had left, but you were physically sore. You mustered the energy to get up and make a coffee and a light breakfast, knowing that you would meet with Rin soon for a late lunch anyway.

You noticed the extra energy you were spending on getting ready. The strong perfume you had applied, remembering that Rin liked strong and bold perfumes. The extra jewelry and effort into your look was evident. You weren’t doing it for him, not for attention or anything, it was for you. You and Rin were eerily similar but just as different. You liked soccer, so did he, but he was obsessed with it. He liked strong perfumes very much, and so did you. It wasn’t liking something because someone likes it, but finding common ground and interest with a close friend.

The clock struck three o’clock and you got into your car, driving towards the place you knew oh so well. Having thirty minutes of leeway, you knew you only really had fifteen, because Rin was never late, on the contrary he was always too early for his own good. You finally reached the little cafe and parked in the spot right next to your favorite cherry blossom tree, it wasn’t in bloom but it still looked beautiful. Staring at the big sign at the front labeled Cherrywood, you smiled to yourself, memories flushing back to you.

Cherrywood Cafe was yours, and Rin’s. It was the cafe you had always gone to, everyday. You had made so many memories there, the owners knew you by name and order, they always thought you were a couple. You still remember the times Rin would surprised you on your birthday with a little set up at the cafe. Good times.

You walked inside, the owner recognized you instantly.

“Oh my goodness! You have grown so much my dear!”

You loved that sweet old lady, she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

“Come come, your boy is waiting for you.”

You instantly felt the warmth creep up to your cheeks, because you knew exactly who she was talking about. She dragged you over to the table in the corner with the large window, which had little succulents on the sill. There he was, Rin Itoshi in all his glory. He stared at you with so much intensity you thought you would puke. He stood up to greet you, well he got tall.

“Oh! Hello, it’s nice to see you.”

Well he is awkward as always.

“It’s nice to see you too Rin.” You gleamed.

The two of you sat down in awkward silence for a bit, and the food had arrived before you started the conversation.

“So how have you been, I know you’re a big shot soccer player now, how’s that going for you?” You smiled.

“It’s great honestly, not too bad, minus the paparazzi.” He said with a blank stare.

You nodded in acknowledgment, the silence was slowly creeping back in.

“How about you? What do you do now?” He asked.

“I am a physical therapist, I just completed my clinical studies. I had my white coat ceremony a while back, now im in the field. I actually get a lot of athletes, I think I met a friend of yours.” You rambled.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Who did you meet?” He asked, it felt more like an interview.

“He was eccentric for sure, I think his name was…Shidou im not sure it was a while back.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. You stared back with a puzzled look on your face.

“Did I say something wrong?” You questioned

He sighed before starting.

“It pains me that you think that he is my friend, I would never, and I mean never, consider him my friend.”

That statement elicited a chuckle from you.

“And why is that?”

He frowned.

“You met him, he’s such an odd person.”

You laughed even harder.

“Yeah I noticed he has an obsession with Sae.”

You didn’t know what you were starting. It was like Rin was waiting for this moment his entire life.

“Right? It’s so…odd. If you like a person and you think they are talented, don’t start jumping on them and saying odd shit, on live television too. He is a PR nightmare.” He rambled on about how weird Shidou was.

You don’t think you had laughed at someone complaining this hard. Somewhere in the ramble, Rin laughed a bit too. When he finally stopped, you were still laughing, he was then just staring at you. He was too busy listening to your laugh.

“Wow you have the same laugh from when we little.”

Well that caught your attention.

“Really?” You replied

He nodded with a small smile on his face.

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed much.” He continued.

You smiled, not knowing how to respond. He was never one to be super nice, just respectful enough to get by. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like him, and his compliments.

“You changed for the better, you’re smiling more.” You complimented back.

His smile slightly fell, your smile also fell when you noticed.

“Keep smiling, it suits you.” You quickly added before finishing the last bite on your plate.

Rin had always been ghastly pale. Even being an athlete, he was very fair and it was probably one of his biggest social weaknesses. This is because, his face would turn bright red at any given moment, he could be embarrassed, shy, angry, surprised and everyone could tell, because his face had changed colors. He tried to cover it up, but as you said that, his face instantly turned pink. You pretended to not notice so he could save face but it was no use. You giggled a bit, slightly poking fun at him.

You two finally finished your lunch, getting up to pay for the meal, you insisted on paying. As you went to give your card, Rin snatched it from you and gave his instead. He handed the card to you, not uttering a single word. Walking out of the cafe side by side, he broke the silence.

“I had fun, we should stay in touch.”

“I did too, and we should, let me know if you’re ever in London.” You nudged his shoulder.

“I will I promise.” He held out his pinky, securing it with yours. He hesitated before continuing.

“You should come to one of my games, I’ll seat you in VIP.”

You looked at him, surprised and giddy.

“Oh my gosh Rin id love to see one of your games!”

He smiled, blushing furiously, he was so glad it was cold outside.

You guys parted ways again, but not for long. You texted everyday, called frequently even on busy days. You stayed in touch, a little too much maybe. When he played a game in London, you attended, sitting in the nice VIP front seat. He kept glancing your way, trying not to make it obvious so the media wouldn’t get any ideas, he already had plans to ask you out, he didn’t want rumors to ruin that.

When he won the game (obviously) he met with his team and then quickly ran over to you, telling you to meet him outside the stadium in the staff parking lot.

You stood there for maybe 15 minutes, waiting for Rin in front of his car. Then, a pair of hands came up and covered your eyes. A smile adorned your face, knowing exactly who it was. It was a bit out of character for him, but you weren’t complaining. When he lifted his hands off your eyes, you finally turned around, looking straight at Rin, who had a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a small box. He looked handsome as ever. You gasped, mouth agape, you didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t say anything, instead you instantly leapt forward and kissed him. You have been waiting for this moment for god knows how long. You felt Rin’s arms pulling you into a hug, you could tell he’s been waiting for this too. When you pulled away, he gestured you to open the small velvet box in his hand. You smiled at him before taking the box and opening it. Inside was a beautiful charm bracelet, and a ring with white and teal crystals on it. You were speechless, you didn’t think this day could get any better, until he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing a matching bracelet and ring on his hand. You hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe properly for a bit, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was living his dream now, dream job and dream soulmate.

And it wasn’t long before you and Rin had to switch those matching rings for another set, this one had diamonds though.

xoxo, august

[demon-at-peace]

DP + DC Danny/Dick P3

Part three of this, which you should read first if you want it to make sense. Anyway it's here! I finally did it, this is the proposal and jazz's explanation in one.

---

Jazz stumbles through the portal and is met with three pairs of blue eyes, and Ellie and Cujo's green ones. "Whoa you all look just like Dick," she comments aloud looking them over. she thinks over what Dick has said about his siblings.

Jason is nerdy, and a cute brother, gets so angry sometimes. Tim is feral, and refuses emotional attachment but is cute. Damian is the youngest, loves animals and art.

But who is who? Damian is the short one hugging Cujo that much is obvious. The boy looking over the old books, who's short and skinny, that's probably Jason, fits the nerdy, and he does look angry. Which means Tim is the taller one, with a calm face, and who looks like he's debating whether he should leave.

"So, Jason, Tim and Damian, why exactly are you here?" she asks primly.

"Did she just call me-" the one she thinks is Tim starts.

"She did! Holy shit, Jay she thinks you're me!" the boy who she thought was Jason cackles. "Dude that's gotta be so upsetting," he giggles.

"You got mistaken too," the real Jason grumbles.

"Yeah for a brick wall, you got mistaken for a nerdy twig!" Tim laughs in his face joyfully.

"Regardless we kinda need answers no?" Jason asks and Tim regains his composure in a second, it's almost scary the way his expression is suddenly blank.

'Yes, first of all how long have they known each other?" Tim asks glaring at her. "And why did they decide to keep it a secret?"

"Five years? maybe longer," Jazz answers, "From what I understood Dick had a rough patch with his ya'll and then just didn't want to tell you?" Jazz shrugs. "They've only been dating for two years though."

"Okay, where did they meet?" Tim asks.

"A library somewhere?" Jazz sighs.

The questions continue, details, ideas, so many questions. They interrogate her fro at least and hour before they pause. "Look um sorry? We just didn't think he'd you know hide it, so we thought it was like a prank, or abusive thing, but I guess not.." Jason sounds so resigned, he looks kinda cute embarrassed Jazz thinks.

"It's fine," Jazz waves it of, "I'd do the same thing for Danny, or Ellie, or Dan really," she stands up gently. "Anyone want tea?"

"Yes please," Damian answers still scratching Cujo's ears. The other bats reply with polite no's.

"Anyway," she says offering Damian his cup, "You'll fit right in, besides I need to catch you up, you won't believe the amount of blackmail photos I have on the two," She grins at them.

"Me too! And Dan!" Ellie adds, we drew mustaches on them!" she declares proudly looking at Jazz with a smug expression.

'Yeah, wanna see?" she offers, the bats exchange glances.

"Gods yes!" Jason agrees. After that the night dissolves into laughter as they see the embarrassing photos of their siblings.

---The Proposal

Danny was nervous, he'd been planning this out for ages. It wasn’t particularly fancy, he knew Dick wouldn’t like that. But he’d found a place to eat at a ski lodge, Dick loved heights and Danny knew he’d get a kick out of being so high up. It was summer too so there wouldn’t be people. he’d also rented a cabin up there, so they could spend the night alone.

He’d gotten a set of rings too, one with a small 3 carat diamond, and then another with little sapphires studding the edges. And then for when he was nightwing Danny made sure they could turn into tattoos or intangible.

he tried to drive carefully, but that he meant near the speed limit. Dick was apologizing, like he cared that his family had seen him. “I don’t care birdy!” He interrupts cutting right rapidly. “Really you wanted me there of course I’d come!” He smiles at him. Dick still looks guilty but is blushing.

“I know, but I mean I kinda just exposed our relationship, you know?” He mumbles.

“Darling it’s your family, I couldn’t care less how I meet them,” Danny chirps. “Anyhow I planned something so I was wondering…” he pauses sheepishly. “Um would ya wear a blindfold Birdy?”

“For you anything!” Dick grins at him. Danny blushes.

“Great!” Danny smiles back at him. “You sure though? I mean I thought you might have bad associations and I didn’t want to make you feel unsafe,” Danny fidgets as they wait for the light to turn red.

“Sweetheart I could never feel unsafe near you,” Dick soothes him.

“Well then I guess that problems solves?” Danny grins at him, ignoring his fluttering heart.

When they get out of the car Danny wraps the blindfold with little birds on it around Dicks head. “Birds really Danny?” He asks fondly.

“oh but of course birdy,” Danny laughs, “you good though?” He asks concerned.

“I’m fine Danny,” Dicn assures him, “I mean unless you took the blindfold of, in that case I can see!”

“Nah it’s still on love,” Danny giggles.

They reach the top quickly, and Danny maneuvers Duck into the lodge. The air smells like food, and the place is decorated with dozens of little wooden birds.

The table is set fancily. “Sit down sweetheart,” he pulls the chair out. “Dick sits down carefully.

“Thank you love,” Dick grins at him with a sappy smile. “Now can I take the blindfold off?”

“Yeah,” Danny replies, and dick unties it behind his head. It slips down, and Danny smiles at him.

“Oh this is gorgeous,” he laughs starting out the window. “Thank you Danny! I’m sorry I didn’t plan something, next year?”

“It doesn’t matter Birdy, anyhow you hungry?” Danny gives him a sappy smile.

“Yeah,” Dick agrees. And Danny practically swoons when he smiles.

“Great,” he blushes. Soon food is brought out, a mix of traditional Romani dishes and Dicks other favorite dishes. when he see the assortment he looks at Danny like he’d hung the stars in the sky.

After the meal they head outside marveling at the stars, and the view. Danny feels akward getting down on one knee as he pulls out the box, he doesn’t think he’s done something more nerve wracking. “Birdy?” He asks and Dick looks at him. “Will you marry me?”

“YES! Dick practically shouts hugging Danny, “I- I can’t believe- that you want to marry me? But yes, a thousand times yes!” He hugs him tighter like trying to squeeze the life out of him. Danny blushes, and tries to hide it.

“Uh yeah,” Danny mumbles, still grinning like an idiot. “Wanna see the ring?”

“Oh uh, yeah?” Dick smiles, and they both laugh.

“Gods we’re like a pair of teens! ” Danny smirks “that was damn awkward. Also why wouldn’t I want to marry you Birdy? I love you!”

“yeah” Dick shrugs “I love you two,” he kisses Danny and Danny kisses him back with everything he has.

---

yay! Finally I did it! fluff is hard to write when you brain is like semi depressed. Also idk what kissing is like when it’s a serious relationship so yeah.. also think I’m gonna do another part when I have time because this is fun! also totally didn't edit this so...

and the people who wanted to be tagged: @georgiefreddie0829 @eldritchgrey wierd-duck678, @dasha022 and @itsbushytailedfox

[bidisasterevankinard]

Buck knows Tommy avoids him. 

He feels him putting the distance between them. Feels when Tommy looks at him with not love and fondness as before, but with something dark and biting. Something that feels like his husband harbors hate for him.

He hopes he's wrong.

But when Tommy doesn’t give him his hand to feel the kick of their daughter he knows it’s true.

Something is wrong between them.

Tommy avoids him. His husband doesn't need him anymore.

“D-don’t you,” Buck coughs, “don’t you want to feel her first kick?”

Tommy slowly looks at his hands, then at the bump.

Buck’s sure with how cold their bed was and with how man never was present when Buck’s changing from his hoodies and shirts, Tommy sees it for the first time in a while.

The silence feels too loud. It surrounds him uncomfortably, like an unwanted hug.

Tommy’s voice breaks it. Buck wished he'd drown it after hearing what his husband said.

“It should have been me.”

“What?”

“It should have been me,” Tommy repeats in the voice so cold Buck needs a jacket, “It should have been me with a bump. It should have been me with morning sickness. It should have been me feeling she was moving all the time. It should have been me!” 

Buck is speechless.

“And yet, it was you! I was trying for months. Changed my diet, read thousands of recommendations, took vitamins, stopped working to prevent stress, but one night! One night when YOU asked us to stop stressing over it and boom! You have all I dreamt about!”

Buck feels like if the words were poison he would be dead. If the eyes could kick he’d be laying near Tommy bleeding.

He doesn’t know how to react.

“I-I though we were happy with it?”

Tommy was smiling when he looked at the test. He held his hand and told him he couldn’t wait to see them.

When did it change?

“That’s what you always do! You think just because it’s easy for you and you’re happy others are too! That I am too!”

“YOU NEVER SAID YOU WERE NOT!” He can’t stop that scream. He’s too angry for their baby. Tommy should be happy she’s there. Not hate that it’s Buck with her.

Maybe he hates that she’s part of you, says that small dark further corner of his brain that Buck believed disappeared after their engagement. 

He coughs and adds in a smaller voice, “you l-looked happy. You were talking about how you can’t wait to see her.”

“Just because someone plays their role doesn’t mean they’re actually happy Evan. But what can you know about it, right?”

“W-hat does it mean?”

“It means that it is always easy for you! You have parents who say sorry and try to have relationships with you and even agree for therapy. You have the family you built in 118 in a year, when I was there for more than decade! You come out in five minutes after finding out you like men! You don’t overcompensate more than one date to prove you’re straight! You don’t spend years upon years trying to love who you are! You get pregnant in one night!”

Tommy turns to look at something. 

“You know what? I’m tired of it all,” he takes his jacket and goes to the door, “I’ll live with Sal. I’ll take my stuff tomorrow when you’re at work.”

Buck rushes to him, grabbing his hand, “Tommy, please. L-let’s talk. If not today then soon, please, W-we can,”

Tommy interrupts him, pulling out his hand and shaking it as if he had stumbled into something unpleasant, “we can’t have anything, Evan. I will send you divorce papers soon.”

Buck never knew your heart breaks in seconds with so much pain that having a fire truck on you is like walking in a park. 

He looks at the door for a long time till his legs feel weak.

He sits on the couch. The last half an hour feels like a nightmare. Strong pinching does not lead to waking up. 

That’s when tears come.

“I’m-m sorry, love,” he rubs his bump, “s-sorry you must have my curse of watching people you love leave you. It’s unfair. B-but, hey, I’m always here for you. Pinky promise.”

He touches his belly with his pinky and feels her kicking that place, so he smiles at her even with tears running down his face.

“And papa hates me, not you, ok? He will be here for you too. Eventually.”

Buck hopes he actually promises her truth. He feels like he never knew Tommy at all.

-

Buck puts the last biscuit on the plate when he feels too dizzy and his pants get wet too quickly. Looking down, he feels nauseous from the amount of blood.

“EDDIE!” 

He knows his voice is too frantic but he can’t help it.

He loses his daughter. He can lose anything, even his life, but not her. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m calling 911, let me see.”

Last thing he remembers is Eddie helping him sit on the floor in his kitchen when he blackouts.

Please let Sky live. Choose me over her if needed.

-

“What do you want, Eddie?” Tommy sighs, sitting on the couch in his new apartment he found a month ago. 

“First Presbyterian,” the man says, basically roars through his teeth, “he wanted you to still be part of her life. Sky needs you.”

“Evan chose the name already?” 

Tommy remembered his ex-husband wanted to wait till she’s here before deciding.

“Yes. And it’s a good thing because if her dad won’t survive she deserves to at least have the name he chose for her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you missed me starting with the hospital? Buck had complications. They did a C-section and Sky’s here, four weeks early but passing everything with flying colors. 36 weeks is actually basically not premature. But Buck,” Eddie’s voice breaks. “It’s a miracle he didn’t bleed out at home.”

Eddie ends the call. 

Tommy feels like he ended his life.

Was he too late to make it right between him and Evan?

-

“You said you promised to Sky that you would always be here for her. So do it, Buck!” he hears Maddie’s voice but it’s like it goes from the radio.

He tries to move to it.

“C’mon, Evan,” he feels a soft silky touch of something really small to his pinky. It tugs him up, up, up. Till he opens his eyes and sees the most precious little girl in Tommy’s arms, her pinky is connected to his.

He did as he promised.

“Welcome back,” Tommy smiles.

Buck just nods. 

[biblical-chronicles]

Play pretend

__________________________________________

where pretending to be a couple evolves into summat more.

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Noel and you had always been close. The kind of close that came from years of bumming smokes off each other, late-night conversations about nothing, and a general understanding that you could take the piss relentlessly and it wouldn’t change a thing. There was nothing romantic about it, not to either of you. But somehow, Liam had gotten it into his head that there was.

“Noel, mate,” Liam had said one night, leaning against the pub doorway with a pint in hand, watching the two of you talk. “I’m not stupid, y’know.”

“That’s debatable.” Noel muttered, flicking ash from his cigarette.

Liam ignored him. “You and her.” He nodded between you, his eyes narrowing. “I see it. The sneaky little looks, the whisperin’. You think I don’t notice, but I do.”

You laughed, assuming he was joking, but Liam wasn’t even smirking.

“It’s alright,” he went on. “Dunno why you’re actin’ all secretive, though. S’not like I care.”

That was what did it. The casual dismissal implicating that it wasn’t even interesting enough for him to be properly bothered.

You and Noel had exchanged one look and immediately knew how to proceed.

It started small. A smirk here, a whisper there. Nothing obvious, just little things to keep him on edge. You’d lean in close to Noel while he was rolling a cig, murmuring something too quiet for Liam to catch, then snort a bit too loud when Noel responded. Liam sat across from you, and would narrow his eyes and mutter a confused “What?”

Noel would shrug, flicking his lighter open. “Nowt, mate.”

Then you’d both smirk at each other like you were sharing some deep, dark secret, and Liam would shift uncomfortably, clearly trying to decide whether he could be arsed to ask again.

The next time, you took it up a notch.

You made a point of whispering to Noel in the middle of conversations now, just enough so Liam could see but not hear. Sometimes Noel would glance over his shoulder before saying something, as if making sure no one else was listening, then shake his head like it was too risky to share. Other times, you’d excuse yourself from the table, and just as you disappeared from sight, Noel would stand up a few minutes later and follow.

Liam was losing his mind.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he burst out one evening, slamming his pint down. “You two are fucking pathetic, y’know that?”

You and Noel turned to him, both playing dumb.

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“I mean, if you’re shaggin’, just say you’re shaggin’!”

Noel, with impeccable timing, chose that exact moment to place his hand low on your back as he shifted in his seat.

Liam looked like he was about to combust.

“Fucking hell, I knew it!”

By this point, you and Noel were struggling to keep straight faces. Noel especially with his smirk so wide it was almost a giveaway.

“You’re losin’ it, r'kid,” he said smoothly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Proper paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” Liam scoffed. “Mate, you’re all over ‘er!”

You shrugged, resting your head against Noel’s shoulder just to push him further. “Dunno what you mean, Liam.”

Liam groaned, dragging his hands down his face.

Noel then dramatically sighed and turned his head toward you, to then murmur a quiet, “Reckon we should tell him?”

You tilted your head, playing along, biting back a grin. “Dunno… reckon he’s ready?”

Liam’s jaw clenched so hard you thought his teeth might crack.

Noel smirked, stretching his arms behind his head. “We’re gettin’ married.”

Liam actually choked. “What?”

Noel shrugged. “What can I say, you got us.”

You held up your left hand, a small silver band sitting on it. “Got a ring and everything.”

Liam stared.

Then he slammed his pint down, stood up, and walked away without another word.

As soon as he was gone, you and Noel collapsed into laughter.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you gasped, wiping your eyes. “He bought it!”

Noel grinned, shaking his head. “Told ya he would. He’s a sucker for a proper scandal.”

You just looked up at him. “Y’know, at some point, we should probably let him off the hook.”

Noel exhaled a long sigh, then smirked. “Yeah, yeah. But not yet.”

With that you settled back against the worn pub booth, still catching your breath from the earlier laughing fit. Next to you, Noel was also smirking, drumming his fingers against the table like he was already plotting the next way to wind Liam up. But then, his fingers stilled, and his smirk softened into something a tad softer.

You felt the small shift too.

Maybe it was the way his arm had ended up slung over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing your shoulder without thought. Maybe it was the way you’d instinctively leaned into him when Liam stormed off, the way he hadn’t moved away, the way he never did. Or maybe it was the fact that all this pretending didn’t feel like pretending at all.

Not really.

Your stomach flipped, but you played it off, glancing at him with a teasing lilt to your voice. “Y’know, you’re enjoying this a bit too much.”

Noel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re not?”

You shrugged, feeling suddenly too aware of the space—what little of it there was—between you. “S’fun, yeah. Feels… easy.”

His eyes flickered over your face, the teasing edge in them dimming into something softer. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It does.”

Noel shifted in his seat, turning to face you better, his knee knocking against yours. “Maybe that’s ‘cause it ain’t pretendin’,” he said, almost like he was testing the words out, rolling them over in his mind before letting them settle between you.

Your breath hitched.

He exhaled through his nose, something like a chuckle, but softer. “You ever think about it?” he asked, voice quieter now. “Us?”

Your heart hammered against your ribs.

You could lie. Brush it off, make a joke, keep up the game. But you didn’t want to. Not now.

“…Yeah,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe.”

Noel’s lips twitched, something knowing passing through his expression. “‘Maybe’,” he repeated, tilting his head slightly. “That’s all I get?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite behind it. “Alright. Yeah, I have.”

His smirk returned, but it was different now, almost shy. He lifted a hand, slow like he was giving you time to pull away, and brushed his knuckles along your jaw. The rough scrape of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

“And?” he prompted.

You swallowed, glancing away for half a second before forcing yourself to meet his gaze again. “‘And’… reckon I wouldn’t mind seeing where it goes.”

Noel’s thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, barely there.

Then, he leaned in.

He didn’t rush it. Just closed the space between you inch by inch until his nose bumped against yours, his breath warm against your lips. He gave you a second, one last chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

You closed the gap.

The second your lips touched, his fingers slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he kissed you slowly.

When you finally pulled away, he was grinning, properly grinning, like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“Guess we don’t need to clear it up to Liam, then.” he murmured, his nose still brushing against yours.

You huffed a laugh. “Dunno, the poor lad believes we’re getting married.”

Noel just nuzzled into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then another just below your ear. “Let him.”

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so sorry for the late updates lately, I just am all over the shop, but hope ya like it xx

reminds me of how Noel apparently moved furniture around inch-by-inch over a long period of time to make Liam believe it were ghosts.

[wonwoosmagnetic]

The Things He Left Behind | jww

ONESHOT!

Pairing: wonwoo x hopeless oc! Warnings: heartbreak, angst Word count: 1.1k words. Synopsis: Somewhere, in another life, maybe just maybe, wonwoo doesn't let you go. Authore Note: A little drabble I wrote in between drafting my next no saints here chapter! hehe hope you like it! oc's name is chaeyoung!

You had spent years pretending he didn’t exist.

"Tell me your name." He had asked it so casually, so effortlessly, like it wasn’t the beginning of something that would ruin you. "Why?" you had asked, teasing. He had smiled, lopsided and warm. "Because I think I was meant to know you." And just like that, you had been lost.

You had erased him in every way a person could be erased—deleted his number, blocked his calls, ripped every reminder of him from your life.

But before you erased him, he had been everywhere. His laughter in your ears. His touch on your skin. His promises—so soft, so real—that you had been foolish enough to believe in. "You’ll stay?" you had whispered once, buried in his arms, afraid of the answer. And he had kissed your forehead. "Always."

You had spent every second since trying to forget.

And for a while, it worked.

Until tonight.

Until now.

Until the moment you heard your name.

"Love isn’t real." He had said it so casually, as if the words weren’t a knife. They were lying in his bed, tangled in sheets and moonlight, your fingers tracing patterns against his bare shoulder. You had looked at him then, waiting for the teasing smile, the flicker of hesitation. But there was none. Just quiet certainty. "You don’t believe in it?" you had whispered, voice small. "No." You could have left right then. You should have. But instead, you pressed closer. "That’s okay," you had said. "I’ll believe enough for the both of us."

You had been moving through the city like a ghost, head down, heart carefully buried somewhere it couldn’t be reached. The streets were alive, chaotic, full—voices and neon lights colliding in a blur of sound. The kind of noise that made it easier to breathe, easier to pretend that nothing was missing.

But then—

"Chaeyoung."

Soft. Familiar.

A voice you had sworn you would never hear again.

Your heart stopped.

No. No, it can’t be.

But you turned anyway.

And he was there.

"Promise me." His voice had been raw that night, his fingers tight around yours, desperate. "Promise me we’ll always find our way back." And you had smiled, because you had been naïve, because you had believed that love was enough. "I promise."

You felt sick.

You had spent so long trying to forget him, to convince herself that he was just a ghost, a figment of your past that couldn’t hurt you anymore.

But he wasn’t a ghost.

He was here.

And he was looking at you.

And the worst part?

He wasn’t alone.

"You’ll leave one day," he had told you once, arms crossed, gaze unreadable. You had shaken your head, smiling as if it was the easiest truth in the world. "No, I won’t." His jaw had clenched then, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "You say that now." "I mean it." But it didn’t matter. He never believed you. Never trusted that someone could want him without conditions, without expectations. So he kept his walls high, locked every door, kept you at a safe distance even when you were right beside him. And you let him. You had been so desperate just to be near him that you accepted every cold shoulder, every dismissive word, every quiet rejection masked as indifference. Because you thought one day he would see. That one day he would believe in love, too. But he had.

You breath hitched.

The world kept moving, kept spinning, but you—you were stuck.

Because he was standing right there, close enough to touch, close enough that you could almost imagine it had all been a nightmare, that none of it was real, that you could still reach for him and—

But then you saw her.

The girl beside him.

The one with her hand in his.

The diamond on the woman’s hand catches the light, and your stomach twists violently.

Because now, you know.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t love. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how.

He just didn’t want to love you.

And suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

"You’ll forget me," you had whispered. He had laughed, shaking his head. "How could I?" But now— Now you were nothing but a forgotten name on his lips.

He blinked. For a second—just a second—he looked almost surprised to see you. Like he hadn’t been expecting this, like he hadn’t considered what it would mean to run into you again.

And then—

His fingers curled tighter around the other girl’s hand.

And just like that—

You knew.

"Wonwoo, I love you." You voice cracked, but you didn’t care. You were past the point of pride, past the point of pretending this didn’t hurt. Your heart was breaking in real time, splintering into pieces right in front of him, and he just stood there. You took a shaky breath, stepping closer, searching his face for something—anything. A reaction, a flicker of emotion, even pity. "Why can’t you love me too?" Your voice was louder this time, desperation bleeding into every syllable. "Why can’t you just—" you stopped, pressing a trembling hand to your chest. "Just say something, Wonwoo. Just—please." He looked at you. For a minute too long. And you thought, maybe this is it. Maybe he would finally let himself feel, let himself see you the way you had always seen him. Maybe he would reach for you, pull you close, whisper something that could make all this worth it. But then— He blinked. Turned around. And walked away. No hesitation. No final words. No second glance. The air left your lungs. You stood there, frozen, watching as he disappeared, waiting for him to stop, to turn back, to realize. He didn’t.

The crowd surged.

A wave of people moved between them, breaking them apart, tearing her away from him before you could even think, before you could even move.

You stumbled back, your chest caving in, your hands shaking.

No. No, no, no—

You pushed forward, desperate, needing to see him, needing to find him—

And then—

There.

He was still there.

Still standing in the same spot.

Still looking at you.

But this time—

He wasn’t reaching for you.

He wasn’t fighting the crowd, wasn’t calling your name, wasn’t trying.

He was just watching.

And then—

He turned.

And walked away.

With her.

"We’ll always find our way back." But they hadn’t. He had found someone else instead.

Your vision blurred. Your fingers curled into fists.

You could run after him.

You could call his name.

You could fight against the tide, push through the crowd, make him remember.

But you didn’t.

You just stood there.

Because this—this was how it ended.

Not with screaming. Not with a fight. Not with desperate pleas or broken promises.

But with him walking away—and not looking back.

And that— That was what hurt the most.

----

[multiversefanfics]

Together Again

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!SemiEx-Hunter!Reader Warnings: cussing, bit a sadness, anger, mention of violence, breakup, pregnancy Summary: You, Sam, and Dean hunted together, Sam broke things off with you and you decided to give up hunting Past in Italics Word Count: 2,152

You and Sam were in love, well you thought you were in love until one day he decided that it was best the two of you break up. There was no big argument, no cheating, Sam didn’t fall out of love with you, even though that’s what you thought, that just wasn’t it, he thought he was saving you, by breaking up with you, little did he know you were holding on a giant secret.

After a successful hunt the three of you went to a bar near your motel to unwind and celebrate with beers, whiskey and greasy burgers, you didn’t drink, you were the designated driver since Dean said he wanted to get super drunk. You noticed Sam was acting weird, but you chopped it up to him just being tired. You and Dean were laughing and playing darts together when Sam walks up gently grabbing your arm, leaning down to whisper in your ear “Can we talk outside?”

You looked over at Sam and nodded, you patted Dean's back and let him know you and Sam were going outside, he nodded and went to order another beer and flirt with the bartender. You and Sam walked outside moving as far away from the loud crowd but not too far away where Dean could come running out to help if anything went down and vice versa. Sam shifted awkwardly What’s wrong Sammy?” He sighed and looked down at you “I don’t think- In fact, I know we should break up.” You were taken aback; you reached out to touch him, but he moved away “What did I do?”

He shook his head not making eye contact with you, he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and tell you he didn’t mean it, but he felt as though this was the best way. “Sam, I asked you a question.” He inhaled deeply finally meeting your eyes “I just don’t feel it anymore.” You bit your bottom lip and nodded “Okay, I’m sorry you don’t feel it anymore.” You handed Sam the keys to Baby, and his fingertips brushed against your palm, shooting a burning sensation deep in your gut. “I’m going to get my stuff and be on my way.”

Sam looked shocked and reached his hand out to stop you “I don’t want you to leave” You chuckled and shook your head “Do you honestly think I can stay here and look at you after this? It hurts, so I’m leaving. Please tell Dean I said bye.” And with that you turned on your heels and walked back to the motel, rubbing your stomach and crying softly.

***

It’s been 6 years since you’ve seen Sam, Dean on the other hand made special trips to see you and your daughter between hunts, yup that’s right I said, daughter. That night Sam broke up with you, you also found out you were pregnant and wanted to tell him when you got back to the motel — well you saw how that went. You gave up hunting although you still kept all the knowledge of hunting; hex bags, demon traps, and of course salt at every door and window in your house. Though it would’ve been better if Sam was around to protect both of you. Another person that popped up from time to time was Castiel, he didn’t like keeping things from Sam but he promised he would keep his mouth shut, and so did Dean

Even though every time Dean came to visit, he took a thousand pictures of your daughter, and you hoped he didn’t show any of them to Sam. Now you live in a cute 3 bedroom house with your daughter, and pitbull, Baby. You didn’t think Dean would speak to you or visit you so you named your dog after his car. You were out getting the mail when you heard a familiar voice from across the street, you turned your head and there he stood in all of his glory, it was Sam. The sun hit him just right and it made you fall in love with him all over again.

Then it hit you, he can’t see you, you bolted into your house shutting and locking the door, and you leaned against the door hearing his voice get closer “Maybe the owner of this house saw something” You hoped Dean would interject and come up with something as to why they can’t knock on your door “Nah, it looks like they got kids and young ones at that they’re probably too busy to notice anything.” Dean bit his lip hoping Sam would buy it and of course, he did, they walked away without a second glance. You let out a sigh of relief then smiled at the soft sound of your daughter’s feet running toward you

“Mommy, can we go to the park?” You didn’t really want to take her out since they were in your neighborhood, but you couldn’t say no to that adorable face “Of course, baby, let’s get you dressed” You stalled as much as you could hoping they’d be long gone before the two of you left, you zipped up your daughter’s light jacket and put a harness on Baby, your daughter skipped a few feet ahead of you and Baby right by her side.

You didn’t use the leash on the walk to the park but once you got there you did since there were other kids and dogs there, Baby wouldn’t do anything because you trained her to protect your daughter and not go after other people or animals unless threatened, you sat down on the bench closest to your daughter and watched her play, Baby right by your leg watching intently.

You crossed one leg over the other and smiled at her when she giggled with the other kids “Excuse me, ma’am do you mind if I ask you a few questions.” You froze in your seat then relaxed when you realized it was Dean, you looked up at him and sighed “What are you doing here?” You looked around for Sam.

He chuckled and sat next to you, petting Baby’s head “Don’t worry, Sam is at the motel. I saw you guys leaving and followed to make sure you were safe” You followed his eyeline back to your daughter and leaned back against the bench “I have to tell him don’t I.” Dean rubbed his chin and shrugged “It’s killing me, keeping it from him, but it’s your call, sweetheart.”

You nodded and looked over at Dean “Bring him over in an hour.” Dean nodded, kissed the top of your head, and walked back to his baby. You let your daughter play for a bit then called her over telling her it was time to go home because Uncle Dean was coming over, she got super excited and rushed you to get off the bench to go home,

The two of you finally got home you took her to get a bath to wash the nasty playground off of her, you put her in her favorite purple flower dress, you exhaled and carried her down the stairs “Why don’t you go play while we wait?” She nodded and took off toward her playroom. You looked up at the time “They should be here any minute.” You decided to go bake Dean a pie.

Dean told Sam he found a lead and they needed to go talk to someone for the case, as they pulled up to your house Sam saw how familiar it looked “You said this person wouldn’t have known anything” Dean sighed and cut off the engine “This isn’t a lead, I need to prepare you before we walk in.” Sam reached for his gun, but Dean put his hand up “No need for that. Listen, you are about to learn some things and see someone you haven’t seen in a long time along with someone you’ve never seen. I need you to be calm about this and not freak out.” Sam just stared at him trying to comprehend what was going on.

Dean put his gun in the glove box and motioned for Sam to do the same thing, Dean got out and Sam followed suit, they walked up to your door and rang the doorbell, they waited a bit and you told them to come in, Sam recognized your angelic voice and immediately his heart started to pound, Dean walked in first your daughter running up to him “Uncle Dean!!” He smiled and scooped her up in his arms spinning her around, you came out of the kitchen wiping your hands on a dish towel, tossing it over your shoulder. “Hi, Sam.” He stood there frozen taking in the scene that just unfolded in front of him. “Long time no see.”

He looked at you, mouth agape, he stuttered a bit then calmed down “What is going on?” Dean looked at you as you stepped forward “Sam, this is your daughter.” He looked over at the little bundle of joy still giggled at Dean who made faces at her. “Wait— She’s my daughter?” You nodded and tucked her curly locks behind her ear, your hand resting on the back of her head “Hey, Babygirl, I know this may be confusing for you, but” You paused for a second taking a deep breath “That’s your daddy.” You pointed at Sam and she got the biggest grin on her face displaying her dimples that she of course got from Sam. She reached for him to pick her up and he gladly did, he studied her face which happened to look just like his “Wow I- What, I don’t know what to say.” She looked up at him playing with the ends of his hair, and then it hit him “Wait, Uncle Dean? You knew?” Dean nodded slowly and went to say something but you cut him off “I asked him not to, just like I asked Cas not to” Sam’s eyes got wide “Cas knew too?!” He tried his best not to yell but it came out a lot deeper than intended “Yes, Cas knew. He protected us all these years, Sam I’m sorry, I didn’t want to distract you, and when you..”

You looked at your daughter “Hey, why don’t you go show Uncle Dean all your new toys” You smiled at your daughter who basically jumped into Dean’s arms he carried you away back into her playroom “When you broke up with me that night, I figured you didn’t want to see me and a kid wouldn’t change that. So, I raised her with the help of Dean, Cas, and.. Bobby.” You looked down at your hands waiting for Sam to freak out or yell, but instead, he pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back “I get it, I’m so sorry, can you forgive me?”

You nodded against his chest, not wanting him to let go “I’m going to give up hunting” You pulled back and shook your head “No don’t do that, Sam hunting is in your blood we’re okay, just visit when Dean does” He scoffed and shook his head “No, I missed out on too much I don’t want to just visit I want to be with you guys… with you.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek "How about a compromise, you keep hunting, but take on fewer jobs? That way you spend most of your time here and not give up what you've been doing all your life."

Sam sighed, he knew you wouldn't let him just give up hunting, it's in his blood "I can do that" He smiled and kissed your forehead "So does this mean you take me back?" You playfully thought for a second, he tilted his head at you, you giggled and nodded "Of course, I take you back Sam." Suddenly you heard your daughter's feet hitting the floor followed by Dean's fake monster sounds

She squealed and ran to Sam "Save me, daddy!" Sam smiled wide and scooped her up running away from Dean. You smiled at the interaction, but also felt guilty for not telling Sam sooner, you are now at peace, you have your family, no more secrets, just straight happiness and bliss. The oven dinged and you called out to Dean "Hey, Dean your pie is done" His head popped up from behind the couch "Pie?" You nodded and walked into the kitchen.

They all followed, and you cut Dean and your daughter a slice watching them having matching messy faces, you leaned against the counter neck to Sam as he admired his daughter "I guess we know what she got from Dean." You giggled and nodded, leaning your head on his arm "I love you so much." He kissed the top of your head lingering there for a moment "I love you more."

A/N: This was a dream I had last night, and I knew it would be a good fic, I hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰

Main Masterlist - Sam Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @samfreakingwinchester @iwudbutnah @littlesoulshine @miss-marmalade

[graysonfics]

the apple pie life is something you’d never admit to the winchesters that you desperately crave. you were born into hunting, and you’re damn good at it, but part of you longs for the white picket fence and doting husband. the husband in your dreams is always dean, but you’d also never admit that. especially because he has the apple pie life you dream of with someone who isn’t you.

you don’t know why you’re on lisa’s doorstep right now. you can’t bring yourself to knock on the door because you know dean will be on the other side, and you haven’t seen him since that horrible night he left you. you cried yourself to sleep with no sam to comfort you.

you shake off the memory and knock on the door. with a hammering heart, you wait. eventually the door opens and you’re met with familiar green eyes that knock the wind out of your chest.

“(y/n)?” dean looks surprised. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m sorry to bother you,” you cough in an attempt to clear the nervousness from your tone. “i need to talk to you.”

dean nods, opening the door wider for you without a second thought. you follow him into the house he’s made a home for lisa and her son. there’s photos of them lining the walls that lead to the kitchen, dean smiling brightly in each and every one of them. you’re scared you’re going to puke.

“sit down,” he pulls out a chair at the kitchen table for you. “i’ll get you some water.”

dean busies himself with grabbing a glass from the cabinet and you try not to look around the kitchen. you imagine the life he has with lisa here, the family dinners around a real table instead of chinese takeout on motel room beds.

“it’s good to see you,” he says, sitting across from you. you can’t tell if he’s lying. “i tried to call—“

“you didn’t,” you smile sadly. “but it’s okay.”

“it isn’t. we both lost him.”

your throat tightens at the reminder of sam trapped in lucifer’s cage. you carefully think about your next words.

“about that…”

dean sits up, “what is it?”

“sam’s back,” you tell him and dean’s face softens. “he’s been back for about a year. before you get mad, he asked me not to tell you. he knew you’d leave lisa and ben behind if you found out and he wanted you to have a chance at happiness, dean.”

“where is he?” dean’s tone is calm but you can see the fury in his eyes.

“he’s fine.” you reassure him.

“(y/n)—“

“he’s fine,” you promise. “i just… i needed to tell you. he doesn’t know i’m here. he asked me not to come. and i… i wanted to see you.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and take a sip of water to distract yourself from saying too much. from telling him how much you hate him for leaving you, how you wish he would just come home.

dean’s about to say something when the front door opens. you hear lisa talking to ben and you stand up from the table in a rush, almost knocking over the glass of water.

“(y/n),” she sounds surprised as she enters the kitchen, her smile faltering. “hi.”

“hi, lisa,” you give her a small wave. “sorry for the intrusion. i needed dean’s advice on some… stuff.”

lisa nods, but she’s looking at dean over your shoulder and you know they’re going to talk about this once you leave.

“anyway, i should probably get going. thanks for having me,” you force a smile. “lovely to see you again, lisa.”

“you too.”

dean follows you to the front door and you avoid his eye as you go to leave. he grabs you by the wrist gently and you turn to look at him.

“sweetheart, i—“

“i’m happy for you,” you can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes as your voice lowers to a whisper. “you deserve this so much, dean.”

“i’ll come with you.” he offers.

“i know you don’t want to,” you respond. “give him time, he’ll come and see you. i’m so happy you got out. i just wish you hadn’t left me behind.”

“(y/n)—“ he says, but you’re already out the door.

[bvidzsoo]

SHUT UP MINA IM LIKE JINJA NOT OKAY RN??!!! This is one of the best pieces of fiction I've ever read and I'm not saying that just to say it, you know me.

Where do I even start, omg...All of your descriptions had me shaking. Like wdym there's people out there who are so talented that they can so vividly describe damn colours that make me then vividly envision it in my mind?? Like, bro, I could see absolutely everything as I was reading it, you're jinja nuts my friend. Show me your ways rn!

The owner of the shop, the most beautiful garden fairy you had ever laid eyes on, stood with his legs in a wide stance and hands open, as if holding an invisible box. His eyes were trained on the mess of porcelain shards, a dozen red roses and a pool of water decorated the wooden flooring. The pair of see-through wings with a dash of green in them flickered fiercely, a sign of annoyance that he refused to express on his gorgeous face. Your own wings, thin and blue, fluttered as a smile overtook your features. 

I'm punching the wall at this sequence here, can you see me? Because-because the whole drabble is full of descriptions like this one and I'm about to throw up over how insanely good they are, Mina. Get over here so I can kiss kiss that damn forehead, RAH!

Also, Yeosang and the MC??? Bitch, I want a best friend like Yeosang rn! Their friendship is so precious and even tho we don't get to see too much of it, I can still tell they go way back and just how they'd always been, it's amazing. Him calling her bubbles??? So what the fuck would you say if I punched a hole in the wall??? I already told you over Discord that I teared up over their friendship lmao, and that feeling still stands!

The one thing you had in common — being of the same species — was the magnetic pull that brought you together — the garden fairy who wore his heart on his sleeve and the water fairy who, despite having a smile warm enough to melt blocks of ice, didn’t think twice before standing up for others.

Absolutely bawling, yk??? I am obsessed with the MC you created for this drabble, like she's so lovely and cool...I kinda see myself in her and that's making me so delulu ACK. Anyways, you should give me a 30k oneshot about solely JongSang to satisfy my greed, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. Also, Wooyoung is a menace as always and I would love to see more of him, too, lol. Yk what, Mina?? Just gimme more of EVERYTHING!

And NOW-PARK SEONGHWA HOLY FUCK???!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM AND TO ME?!! I knew the outfit you'd give him and I was STILL not prepared for it because-HOLY SHIT SEONGHWA PINK HAPPY TRAIL???? BIIIIITCH!!! I'M INSANE DON'T YOU KNOW THAT ALREADY??!!! No because, Mina, this Seonghwa, in this story-HOLY MOLY I folded so many times, you don't understand, I need him very embarrassingly. And their first meeting is also so freaking cute AAAH, the second that little leaf flew off her wrist I just knew what was about to happen and I almost squealed at my workplace (yes, I'm reading it here ehehehe) and also kindaaa kicked my feet HEHEHE.

Seonghwa’s grin broadened. It wasn’t a matter of what, but of who. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he leaned even closer to you. The three letter word rested on the gap of his teeth, just gauging your wide eyed expression. In a whisper, far more quiet than the calm ripple of waves or comforting sound of bubbles bursting he answered your question. “You.”

Bitch and if I barf?? Then what?! I love how there's a tinge of cockiness and self-assuredness to this Seonghwa and yet he remains so sweet and shy, like MAN-can you let me catch a BREAK???

He hummed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. More obvious than the grass being green and the sky blue. “Yes, you. My pretty water fairy. The prettiest water fairy.” “Don’t shy away from me, pretty. I’ve been waiting for years to finally meet you and I want to stare at you until I’ve memorized the most discreet feature of your beautiful face.”

UHM-I've jinja just stabbed myself in the eye, AHAHAHA bye. I cannot do this, nu-uh, no woman, I just can't.

Her knowing all that stuff about gardens and whatnot due to being friends with Yeosang for so long- I just know that bitch (said affectionately about Seonghwa) fell in love even harder with the MC when she started saying what each rose represents. YEAH, I JUST KNOW IT OKAY! Their whole interaction, from start to finish, was jinja so good and endearing I was praying it would never be over lol. I can feel their eagerness and desire for each other and call me a freak- but them doing the devil's tango on that bench would've been very understandable because I would've long ago jumped his bones if I were the MC AHAHAHA, oopsies~

I hope this couple never dies and I need them married with many little fairies BECAUSE I NEED TO KNOW WHAT COLOUR THEIR WINGS ARE, DO U UNDERSTAND MINA??? Also, since I brought this up- Imma kiss kiss your brain (because your forehead isn't enough anymore, and we both know how you feel about the toes-) because you gave this story such a unique touch! The fairies having wings and also all the others creatures and how they coexist...man, I wish you would give us so much more of this universe because it's fantastic.

Also, I must say this...I was never too fond of this trope because I find it basic and that it limits my creativity, so I was kinda praying I wouldn't get it LMAO. But then when you got it, I was so curious how you'd pull it off and MY GOD was I not disappointed. Like...it's seriously so good and so well done, I just love it a lot and I'm happy you got to write this trope because it was executed, dare I say, perfectly! The story was also so fluffy and just AAA...look at us making them kiss and be all lovey-dovey just after hours of meeting ahahaha (I'm looking at you Yeosang from my soulmate au).

I think I'll stop here for now, but if I remember anything else I know where to find you, hehehe...also, I think it's safe to say that this story is my favourite one so far from this event.

A Second to Forever | Park Seonghwa

🍄 Summary: The countdown on your wrist was getting closer to its end and the jitters of finally meeting your soulmate were rendering you an anxious mess. It was a moment you had waited for your entire life — the chance to put a face and name to the person you were destined to meet — and it made you think of different ways to escape fate. After a series of comedic events where everything that could go wrong, did, you met your soulmate. In that instant, everything changed. The encounter was filled with sparks of attraction, warmth and genuine connection, leading to a tender first interaction that left you both feeling enchanted.

🍄 Pairing(s): Fairy!Seonghwa x Fairy!Reader, brief Fairy!Yeosang x Werewolf!Jongho

🍄 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, fantasy AU, fluff, humour

🍄 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), use of magic, water manipulation, flower manipulation, Wooyoung is a mood, petnames (bubbles, little one, jjong, love, darling), smooth talker!Hwa, flustered!MC, Seonghwa has some insecurities, brief mention of kidnapping and murder (literally just mentioned once in conversation), kissing and cuteness overload

🍄 Wordcount: 7.1K

🍄 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Happy Friday everyone!!! I don't have a lot to say, except for enjoy hehehe. It was quite fun to write this one. I've never really done a fantasy/fairy au before so it was certainly a fun challenge! The fairies are sometimes referred to as little one / little fairy, not because of their physical appearance but because fairies are described as 'tiny' in tales even though they are human sized here!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes, not sexual content but moments of intimacy. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

The beautiful pink petals of the cherry blossom trees littered the streets of Seoul. The flowers could be found in every corner and in every crevice, covering the ground in a pink blanket, much like the thick layer of snow in the winter season. Peering out of the window of Yeosang’s flower shop, you wonder about the story behind each passerby. A trio of young witches dressed in high school uniforms walked by with their arms looped and joyous laughs tumbling out of their mouths. A tall man triple checked his wristwatch, hair gelled back and one sharp tooth peeking out. The stress was evident on his pale face and your eyes flashed down to the fat blue ring resting atop his middle finger. The bright complexion and fang was a giveaway, yet the piece of jewelry confirmed your thoughts.

The vampire narrowly avoided colliding with another man nearly half of his height that appeared out of nowhere. You glanced down and noticed the lack of feet on the new person. Ghosts weren’t usually seen out in the open during daytime as the sun made them nearly invisible. The bright rays pierced through their translucent forms and turned them invisible to those who weren’t aware of their surroundings. It was good you could walk through them, a bit disrespectful, but at least they weren’t involved in a lot of traffic accidents.

As if on cue, a loud crash erupted behind you, and you were quick to turn around. The owner of the shop, the most beautiful garden fairy you had ever laid eyes on, stood with his legs in a wide stance and hands open, as if holding an invisible box. His eyes were trained on the mess of porcelain shards, a dozen red roses and a pool of water decorated the wooden flooring. The pair of see-through wings with a dash of green in them flickered fiercely, a sign of annoyance that he refused to express on his gorgeous face. Your own wings, thin and blue, fluttered as a smile overtook your features. 

“You alright, Sang?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and crouched down to pick up the aftermath of his ditziness. “It’s the fourth vase this month…”

You grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner while Yeosang separated the roses from the remains that couldn’t be reused. Before you got to sweeping, you placed your hand right above the puddle and wiggled your fingers. The water slowly separated from the floor and hovered in the air, taking on an oblong shape that bent at your will. You guided the water to the drain with a flick of your wrist and the only proof of there ever being an accident were the broken shards. Yeosang shot you a grateful look and you handed him the floor scoop in return as you gently swept the bits into the dustpan.

“You can’t blame yourself for the first two times, remember? It isn’t your fault the customer’s service dog accidentally knocked stuff down with his tail and it definitely isn’t your fault that some parents bring their kids in and have no control of the devil spawns playing tag in a flower shop!”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am!” 

Yeosang ignored your cheery outburst and threw the collected pieces in the trash can behind the register. Overwhelmed by being in the center of attention, even if it was only him and you there, he reflected the light on you.

“How much time is there left?”

You slid your forearms across the counter with your palms facing the ceiling. The digital timer that was injected into your wrist seconds after you entered the world was currently showing 01:10:20 with the last numbers frequently changing. Seventy minutes. A little more than an hour left until you’d come face to face with your other half. The thought sent a pleasant spark down your spine and along the thin veins of your wings. Many nights were spent staying awake and wondering who they were and the times you managed to succumb to sleep, you were visited by the image of your soulmate, but the face was always hidden behind a blurry shield.

Just a little while longer and you’d be able to trace the outline of their features. Then there was the curiosity whether they were a fairy like you or another creature. It wasn’t unheard of or impossible to be paired with something other than your own kind. You knew fairies whose soulmates were everything from witches to werewolves, however your soulmate was yet to show themselves. 

“That’s soon,” he replied, a dash of excitement lingering in his voice and a joyous glint twinkling in his eyes. 

“Right… I don’t know whether it’s too soon or not soon enough.” You buried your face in the safety of your palms. “Oh, Yeosang, what am I going to do? It feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest!”

A fresh and slightly musky aroma with a hint of fruity sweetness surrounded you, blossoming a comforting and warm feeling in your chest. The flower shop was filled with a variety of different scents, but this one stood out, as if the plant was right beneath your nose. A barely-there touch grazed the slightly exposed part of your cheek, right beside your ear, and you slowly raised your head only to be met with the lovely sight of a large jasmine bush protruding between the planks. Jasmines were known for their calming effect and you could practically feel the tension melting off your shoulders, back and jaw. 

“Thank you, Sangie.”

“Anytime, bubbles. Now, I can see the cogs turning in your head. Go ahead and ask away.”

“What… How was it when you met Jongho?”

The garden fairy paused for a second and thought over his answer. For someone who had already met his soulmate, it was hard to put the experience into words. How was Yeosang supposed to explain the unfathomable feeling of the air shifting the moment he locked eyes with his soulmate?

“I don’t know how to explain it, but believe me when I say that all of my worries disappeared when I met Jongho. Nothing in the world mattered anymore. I could literally be on the brink of death and I wouldn’t even care because, well, he was there.” A blush the same hue of his heart-shaped birthmark rose to his cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. 

Yeosang and Jongho met in their first year of university, if you recalled correctly. That would be a mere five years ago. Yeosang was running late for his exam and was in such distress, he forgot about the countdown on his wrist. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. It would be a miracle if the fairy even remembered half of the material he revised in time for the evaluation. Yeosang quickly regretted his choice of taking the elevator instead of sprinting up the five flights of stairs. He didn’t even think of using his wings!

There were just a few more minutes until the doors would close, so when the elevator dinged and the doors just started parting, Yeosang slipped through the crack and collided with a sturdy chest. Everything he was holding — keys, pencil case, water bottle, notepad  — fell to the ground along with an apology slipping out of his lips. The words didn’t get very far as Yeosang looked up and found the warmest pair of eyes staring right back at him. Yes, he missed the exam.

You sighed at the dreamy look on his face. “You’re just saying that because you love Jongho’s eyes.”

“Do not!” His glow intensified and took on the shade of the red roses behind him, a stark contrast to his green and black highlights. Yeosang eventually yielded as you raised your brows and tilted your head sideways. “Okay, I do love him, but it’s not because of his eyes!”

Joy stretched your lips into a genuine smile. You were happy for him. It was about time someone other than you brought the fairy out of his shell and Jongho, from the brief encounters you had with the werewolf, was just the man for the job. Your friendship with Yeosang blossomed in elementary school. The class consisted mostly of vampires, witches and werewolves, and hadn’t it been for you and Yeosang, the homeroom would’ve been vacant of fairies. The one thing you had in common — being of the same species — was the magnetic pull that brought you together — the garden fairy who wore his heart on his sleeve and the water fairy who, despite having a smile warm enough to melt blocks of ice, didn’t think twice before standing up for others. In other words, by drenching the pupils for making fun of the sweetest boy in class.

Though one was a garden fairy and the other a water fairy, your differences went beyond your magical abilities. Yeosang was quiet and you were loud. He liked to observe while you wanted to participate. The apples of his cheeks set ablaze at the merest crumb of attention while you didn’t shy away from the spotlight. Your differences didn’t hinder you from being friends, on the contrary actually. The different traits were perhaps the reason why you stayed friends for so long. 

Having an unpredictable mind that changed course like the unruly waters of the sea, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts run down an unstoppable stream. If the universe paired Yeosang with someone that was an anchor — grounding and strong, giving him the opportunity to lean on his soulmate whenever — what would it give you? Would your soulmate be a vampire, cold and quiet, to balance your loud and bubbly personality? Or what if they were a controlling werewolf, an alpha ordering you around, trying to drown out your outgoing persona? But your soulmate wouldn’t hurt you, right?

The silence on your part alerted Yeosang and he was quick to notice your distant gaze. He slowly waved his hand in front of you, the motion eventually getting more frantic the longer your eyes stayed stuck on the same object, until you broke out of the bubble separating you from the rest of the world.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” you replied without missing a beat and glanced down at your wrist. 

00:50:35

Your eyes widened. The time was suddenly moving so fast. All those years of you wailing and complaining about there being an eternity until you’d meet your soulmate were taunting you now. 

“What if I lock myself in the guest bathroom of the flower shop?”

“It’s impossible to defy the universe.”

“What will they do? Break the bathroom door?”

Yeosang paused for a moment and gave you a skeptic glance. “Maybe you forget to lock the door.”

"Impossible,” you countered and kept your eyes on the countdown. “I always check twice.”

“Maybe the lock breaks because you pull on the handle when checking.”

It was your turn to take a breath. He had a point and you hated it when he was onto something. “Okay, what if I hide in a river in a bubble of water?”

“Congrats, your soulmate is a merman or mermaid.”

“What if I take a trip to Jongho’s pack?”

The sudden call of your name snapped your eyes up to Yeosang’s. “Do you not want to meet your soulmate? Because you’re really acting like it…”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna meet them. I’m just… scared…”

There was no point in feeling embarrassed of your admission. Everyone you asked who had already met their soulmate told you the same story. How they were nervous, scared and excited about finding out who their other half was. You thought they were stupid at first. Who would be scared of meeting their soulmate? Now you felt stupid for secretly invalidating others’ feelings. 

“There’s no reason to be afraid, bubbles. The person you’re destined to meet isn’t just created on a whim. A piece of your soul is taken to put in theirs and vice versa, whoever it is, you’re created to fit each other.”

“But–”

“No buts. You can’t cheat fate…” A quiet blanket settled over the almost empty flower shop. “Take a stroll and try to think of something else. Here.” 

A vine covered in different sized leaves emerged from the ceiling at a single twitch of his fingers. Yeosang held his hand out and a leaf the length of your forearm fell off the branch right in his palm. He grabbed each end of the blade and beckoned you to hold out your wrist. The leaf was neatly tied around your timer, successfully covering the changing numbers.

“Now you can’t look at the timer and won’t worry about where you are or who you’re around.”

One corner of your mouth curved up in a gracious smile. “Thank you, flower.”

“I gotchu, now fly away and don’t come back unless you wanna show me your love for all eternity.”

With a new found confidence and a leaf on your wrist, you big Yeosang goodbye and left the flower shop per order. You didn’t know where to go. Any location you thought of was either too fancy or not fancy enough to meet your soulmate in. The idea to wait outside your front porch wasn’t too bad. If they turned out to be a complete weirdo you could just run and hide. The downside would be that they would know where you lived. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you decided to just walk in a straight line and let the path guide you to the person destiny chose for you. 

It was a beautiful day. There wasn’t a single cloud in the blue sky, and the sun could freely share its warm rays with the planet. People made the most of the sunny weather and spent the day outdoors. Some took longer walks with their dogs, while others decided to enjoy the clear sky in the outdoor seating areas of coffee shops. As you passed a park, you caught sight of students in high school uniforms with blankets strewn beneath them and books lying open on their laps. The bright weather sent everyone in a good mood and you just hoped the atmosphere wouldn’t change when your timer ran out. Getting sidetracked was easier than you thought. A little further up ahead the road was a fairly new shop which had just opened a few months ago. You did visit it a handful of times to your mother’s requests of buying different ingredients for her and just like then, her gentle voice echoes in your head reminding you to stop by Jung’s Magic Shop on your way home for a bottle of moon petal essence. 

The bell above the door jingled at your entry. A surge of intensity hit your nose the moment you stepped over the threshold that you thought blood would ooze out of your nostrils. One word to describe the store would be chaos. The space was the size of a shoe box and crowded due to the many unopened boxes, random piles of books that couldn’t fit in the bookshelves and random trinkets laying around. At first glance, the shop appeared to be empty, but as you reached the register and tapped the small bell with the sign ‘tap me’ attached to it, a man of short stature emerged from a cloud of smoke.

“Hello little fairy,” he greeted and leaned his elbow on the counter while resting his chin on his palm. “What can I help you with this fine evening?”

Jung Wooyoung, the youngest wizard of his family line, was most known for being the new addition in town and almost setting the whole building on fire on his first night there. He was a handsome wizard. Black hair that fell neatly over his nape and tickled the beginning of his shoulders. His equally dark eyes were obscured by a heart-shaped fringe. It was nearly impossible not to squirm beneath his gaze, but the tension would disappear with a quick flash of his bright smile. The most alluring feature of his face would be the mole right beneath his right eye, and if the viewer was extra observant, they would notice a subtle beauty mark on the center of his bottom lip. 

“Hey Woo, do you perhaps have some of that moon petal essence?”

“Hmmmmm, I think they are all reserved for other customers.” The hopeful light faded from your eyes and he was quick to take back his words, lowering his tone and whispering behind his hand as if the place was bustling with customers. “But… I can just tell Mrs. Yang, I dropped her bottle.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries, little fairy. Take it as a gift for being my favorite customer.” His eyes jumped down to your wrist and a wrinkle appeared between the skin of his furrowed brows. “What’s wrong with your wrist?”

“Oh, this?” You raised your hand and gave him a better view of the leaf. “It’s nothing, I’m supposed to meet my soulmate soon and I couldn’t stop worrying, so Yeosang tied it to keep me from worrying.”

Wooyoung hummed as his hand reached out to play with the knot of the blade. “Yeosang is that little flower fairy, huh?” He dreamily sighed. “He is beautiful.”

“And happily taken by his soulmate,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, don’t remind me! Can’t a mind fantasize in peace?” Agile as a fox, he changed the course of the conversation, seemingly no longer interested in the ‘little flower fairy’ and his boyfriend. “Well how much time is there left until you meet the lucky one?”

“It showed less than an hour back at Yeosang’s shop.”

“And you walked all the way over here?” You nodded, a bit clueless at the sudden question. “That’s a thirty minute walk, little one and that’s if you walk at a brisk pace.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think you need to get out of here unless you want to find the love of your life in this chaos.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly ushered him to get your moon petal essence. 

“Jeez, woman. I’m going!”

As soon as Wooyoung handed you the essence trapped in a bottle the size of your pinky, you slipped it over your head and let it dangle around your neck, and dashed back out into the busy street. The door nearly hit you on the way out and you could’ve sworn you heard a cackle come from the inside, definitely Wooyoung pulling some strings to mess with you. A harsh gust of wind  swooshed around the many bodies and you threw your hand up to shield your eyes from the flying dust and dirt. What you didn’t expect though was for your leaf to come undone and travel through the air.

“Oh no!” You gasped and quickly ran after it.

As if sensing your chasing figure, the wind picked up and pushed the leaf further away. Like a game of cat and mouse, the blade would land on the ground and then jump a few paces whenever you’d get too close. It was taunting you and that alone made you more determined to capture it again. The thought of Wooyoung casting a spell on it back in his shop didn’t sound too unbelievable. The more time you spent with the wizard, the more of his foxy personality broke through his innocent act. 

“Come back here,” you hissed and chased the lively leaf while successfully avoiding collision with the other pedestrians. A brilliant idea flashed before your eyes and everyone watched in awe as your blue wings fluttered to life, and lifted your figure off the ground.

The leaf brushed off your command and continued its path further and further away from you. There was actually no point in retrieving it, but you realized you felt much better not having to look at your timer than when it was visible for everyone to see. Even now, as you were losing your mind trying to get it back, you didn’t think to glance down at your wrist. Entirely occupied by the stupid part of a random plant Yeosang summoned, you didn’t realize your timer was rapidly coming to an end. Your wings flapped rapidly, propelling you forward. Victory filled your veins as you inched closer and closer to the blade. The harsh wind stilled and the leaf fell limp on the ground just as you touched down with the soles of your feet. You ran the last stretch with your arm extended and fingers spread, ready to capture the green piece. A noise of triumph escaped your mouth as you grabbed the end of the blade.

“I got you!” 

What you didn’t expect was for the leaf to be pinched between a thumb and forefinger, twice the size of yours, at the other end. You traced the path up the stranger’s arm and gazed into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you could ever imagine — round and wide, akin to a surprised bunny. A bubble you weren’t aware of burst in your ears and all of your thousands thoughts stored in various chests scattered in the vast space of your mind were reduced to nothing. Your breath was trapped in your throat, yet you didn’t feel the need for air as long as you kept staring at the stranger. A soft breeze — nothing like before — brushed against your bodies and a rain of cherry blossoms followed. The petals landed in the stranger’s hair and blended with his baby pink strands. The man was breathtakingly beautiful and your heart squeezed in content of being the center of his attention. 

“Hey,” he said and your insides nearly collapsed from the combination of his slight rasp and soft-spoken tone. His raspberry-colored lips curled upward and dethroned the sun as the warmest source of light in the galaxy. The fairy who couldn’t go a day without speaking was for once at a loss for words. 

“Hi,” you squeaked out and hastily rose to your feet, letting go of the oh-so-important leaf.

The man chuckled and followed your lead. His long legs were trapped in a pair of khaki pants and the pine-colored vest was buttoned up, showcasing his sunkissed arms and collarbones, and even a sliver of his belly button adorned by a trail of bright pink hairs. A brown string was tied around his neck, with just enough space for a pinky to slip between his skin and the material, and the ends disappeared beneath his shirt. That wasn’t the only accessory on his beautiful body — a light watch, in the same hue as the necklace, sat snuggly around his left wrist. A pair of beige boots fit his outfit perfectly and perhaps even made him an inch or two taller.

The attire was very comforting as it reminded you of your relatives and the few fairy friends you had. It wasn’t something people wore around these parts as most residents weren’t of fairy descent and stuck to the more modern-day clothes. Before you could spiral into what-ifs, a motion behind him caught your attention and as you threw a glance over his shoulder, the prettiest pair of wings in fairy history came into view. They were much brighter than his hair and glowed with iridescence, shifting from shades of lavender to bubblegum pink beneath the sunlight. But that wasn’t all. A shimmering gold ran through the venations, starting thick and then thinning out as they neared the edge of his wings. The stranger belonged in a bedtime story based solely on his appearance, a tale deserving to be shared with the world.

“I’m Seonghwa.” 

He tucked the leaf behind his ear and held out his hand, patiently waiting for you to reciprocate. The moment your palm touched his, he ran his thumb over your knuckles and gave it a soft shake. Gentle ripples erupted along the surface of the skin he touched and it brought a sense of serenity you only felt while being in a pool of water. Seonghwa gently and slowly turned your hand sideways, as if waiting for any attempts of resisting, but continued when you didn’t fight him on it. Multiple zeros glared up at him and a smile, broader than the one before, spread across his cheeks. 

“And do tell, is my soulmate’s name as beautiful as her face?”

An embarrassing noise was born as the question struck you like a golden arrow launched from Cupid himself and lodged itself in the center of your heart. To make matters worse, Seonghwa pulled your hand up to his face and planted a chaste, but lingering kiss on your ring finger. If Yeosang knew that a mere kiss and some sugar coated words would leave your brain fried, he would’ve done it a long time ago. Through the haze of pink hearts and desire, you managed to give up your name, but not without stumbling over your tongue a few times first.

“I love being right,” he admitted and you were a second away from fainting in the arms of your soulmate.

“I–I, yo–you– I–I mean, what!?”

Seonghwa chuckled, clearly amused and endeared with your flustered behaviour. “You have a pretty name.”

“Your face is pretty!”

You didn’t mean for the compliment to slip out after not even five minutes of meeting your soulmate, but you were drunk on him and everyone knew a drunk mind spoke a sober truth. Nonetheless, you slapped your hand over your mouth as if it would take the confession back and erase his memory. Little did you know that Seonghwa had already stored it in a folder named ‘prettiest flower’ somewhere in the far back of his head with the intent to reminisce about the sacred first meeting every once in a while. 

“Thank you, darling.”

A few people had gathered around you to witness the life changing moment of two strangers, but neither paid them any thought. Seonghwa scratched the back of his neck with his left hand — the other one still holding yours — and cleared his throat, slightly feeling the pressure of multiple eyes on him. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” 

“Please.”

There was no step by step manual telling you what to do after meeting your soulmate. You wished though. Something like Soulmate 101 or The Soulmate Startup, it would certainly help you in times like these — you and Seonghwa sitting on a random park bench, a vacant seat between you and the March wind doing all the talking. The scenery was pretty though. An oblong pond stretched from one end of the park to the other as a long trail went around it. Years ago, probably an elderly garden fairy, planted a bunch of various trees along the path that had now grown into beautiful timbers of various sizes. You weren’t that skilled in flora, it was Yeosang’s specialty, but you managed to snag up a thing or two from the decade long friendship. 

There was an array of oak, maple and pine trees that would look nothing short of magical during the harvest season, but it didn’t mean the different hues of green were any less pretty. The growing leaves just needed to emerge from their buds and the park would look lively again. The few cherry blossom trees were at least in full bloom and distracted the visitors from the otherwise naked park, and a couple of evergreen shrubs were blooming nicely. The few ducks and swans were a cute bonus too. You thought back to Yeosang and Jongho’s story. How the younger immediately introduced Yeosang to his family, to his pack, and they welcomed him with open arms or how the garden fairy wasted no time taking Jongho to his family owned — now, entirely written over on Yeosang’s name as both Mr. and Mrs. Kang retired — business.  

“So… what kind of fairy are you?” Seonghwa’s voice snapped you back to the present. 

Most people usually guessed what abilities you had based on the color of your wings. Blue could only represent so much and the element that was always tied to it was water. Either Seonghwa was really clueless or wanted to spark up a conversation… You had a feeling it was the latter.

“I’m a water fairy,” you replied and crossed your legs over each other, subconsciously leaning closer into Seonghwa who sat with his arm draped over the back of the bench. The heat emitting from his limb grazing your shoulders and neck. “But that’s obvious because of my wings… Your wings are beautiful though and like, I’ve never seen wings in that color before and I’m trying to understand what fairy you are, but it’s so hard!”

By that point, you were already rambling. The words trickled out of your mouth like a waterfall with no end in sight, but Seonghwa didn’t mind. On the contrary, he bashfully smiled, as if you had told him the stars belonged in his eyes — which wasn’t far from the truth. People, more often than not, praised him for his wings, calling them beautiful, breathtaking, magnificent — every flattering word you could think of. Seonghwa thought he had grown immune to the compliments. However, hearing it from you sent a heat to his cheeks challenging the pink peonies in Yeosang’s shop.

“Thank you…” He meekly replied and lowered his voice down to a whisper. “People try to guess, but no one’s gotten it right yet… I’m a garden fairy.”

You felt stupid for not thinking of that, but in your defence, most garden fairies you knew (just Yeosang’s family) had green wings and green or brown hair — the two main colors symbolizing earth and flora. Of course you wouldn’t assume Seonghwa was one too as he radiated the colors of strawberry ice cream and lavender skies. 

“Are you like… royalty?”

Seonghwa couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of him and threw a hand over his mouth to keep his volume down so as to not disturb the other visitors. In all his years of living, he had never been mistaken for royalty. His cute pink blush intensified and was identical to the vibrant camellias on his left. 

“N–No!” He said between the laughter and waved his other hand. “It’s not common, but fairies with parents who have different abilities can be born with… abnormal wings. My mom is a garden fairy and my dad a fire fairy.”

“Wow, that’s cool. I didn’t know that at all.”

“Not many do. I mean, I have yet to meet another fairy with a not-so-normal pair of wings.”

You chuckled. “If that’s why you came here, then you’ll be disappointed.”

“How come?”

“There’s only one other fairy family here and they are gardeners too, but not the flashy-kind like you.”

This time he didn’t cosplay a tomato or shy away from your kind advances. Seonghwa leaned in and the distance between you was reduced by half. You gulped at the sudden close proximity and your eyes darted down to his lips curving up in a smirk. 

“I’m not disappointed.”

Snapping out of your trance, you found his eyes again. The round rabbit-like shape taking on that of a siren. “Huh?”

“You said if that’s why I came here then I’m going to be disappointed and well, I’m not. Wanna know why?” 

You didn’t trust your usually loud and bubbly voice to be stable anymore, not when his scent of burned sugar and sunflower fields infiltrated all of your senses. Playing your cards safe, you nodded slowly.

“Because I found something better.”

The question of what lingered in your eyes and while Seonghwa could see the curiosity shimmering in them, he wanted to hear you ask. Perhaps the soulmate connection was stronger than both of you thought because a warm feeling spread through your abdomen, like an instinct telling you when danger was near or when you could feel someone staring at you from afar, and you decided to take a step from your unusually shy exterior. 

“What?”

Seonghwa’s grin broadened. It wasn’t a matter of what, but of who. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he leaned even closer to you. The three letter word rested on the gap of his teeth, just gauging your wide eyed expression. In a whisper, far more quiet than the calm ripple of waves or comforting sound of bubbles bursting he answered your question.

“You.”

“M– Me?”

He hummed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. More obvious than the grass being green and the sky blue. “Yes, you. My pretty water fairy. The prettiest water fairy.”

A rush of heat attacked your face and the urge to look away was almost bigger than the urge to run your fingers through his wavy hair. The looming fear of taking a step too far made you hold back and keep your hands glued to your sides. Seonghwa wasn’t having it though. With trembling hands, he gently hooked his pointer finger beneath your chin and rested his thumb in the center of your chin, the tip grazing your bottom lip,  and directed you back to face him. Fierce bubbles reached the surface of the pond and the ducks quacked in panic at the sudden change in their peaceful environment. 

“Don’t shy away from me, pretty. I’ve been waiting for years to finally meet you and I want to stare at you until I’ve memorized the most discreet feature of your beautiful face.”

“Seonghwa,” you whispered. Your heart was loud in your ears and the hot blood wouldn’t stop rushing to your head. If you were to check your temperature, the thermometer would break from the heat and you’d be rushed to the nearest hospital. Little would they know you weren’t suffering a severe fever, but of love sickness instead.

“May I…” he hesitated as well. The two-hour-long interaction, mostly spent sitting in front of the pond, made you feel as though you had known each other for two decades. 

Sensing his caution, you wrapped your fingers around the wrist attached to your face. You gave him a soft squeeze of encouragement and whispered, “It’s okay.”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

A pair of soft and plush lips pressed against yours and a tidal wave whirled in your stomach, flipping all of your senses into overdrive. The hand that was originally cupping your chin maneuvered to cradle your cheek as his other hand fell on the cramped space between your and his thighs. Your own fingers reached the sides of his vest to not stray with the pink haze clouding your rational thoughts. It was nice to be taken care of and follow someone else’s lead every once in a while, and Seonghwa proved he could do just that. Eager and wanting more, you pushed against him and Seonghwa took it as a sign to gently swap his tongue against your bottom lip, practically begging to be let in and who were you to deny him entry?  A rich, romantic and soothing fragrance surrounded you as the kiss deepened and your fingers slid up his sides, and gently wrapped around his neck. The need to run them through his hair grew alongside the desire bubbling in your abdomen, but you refused to mess up his neat waves. 

As you parted to relieve your burning lungs, the sight surrounding the bench stole the breath right out of your throat. Multiple thorny stems protruded from the ground and created a curving wall around your bench, leaving a slim opening facing the pond. White, red, yellow and pink petals bloomed through the thousand green leaves shielding you from the outside world. It was magical, something you’d only see in movies or flower gardens where the caretakers would trim and bend the bushes until they fit their vision. You gingerly extended your hand and traced the outline of a pink rose. They were fully grown and unraveled, the kind people would kill to get their hands on for their partners on Valentine’s Day. 

“Why…?”

You were so immersed in the flowers to notice Seonghwa shrinking into himself. Shoulders hunched up to his chin, fingers fiddling in his lap and bottom lip caught between his teeth. The powers of a fairy were both a blessing and a curse for different reasons. Garden fairies could manipulate greenery to create art deserving of a place in the Louvre. Until they were fully in control of those powers, their emotions dictated their actions, often leading to chaos like a cocoon of roses mirroring Seonghwa’s warm heart.

“Did you do this?”

Seonghwa was snapped out of his embarrassed trance and sheepishly smiled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck despite not feeling an itch and then wiped it obnoxiously off his thigh. There was no point in hiding the truth. A bush didn’t just sprout overnight let alone in a matter of seconds, at least not without the help of a fairy. Seonghwa was still reluctant to admit the truth. What person would want to hear about their soulmate becoming overwhelmed by emotions to the point where they lose the reins of their powers? There was nothing attractive or admirable about that. Not at Seonghwa’s grown age! 

As much as he wanted to play it off and play stupid. Answering with a simple shrug of his shoulders and feigning a look of surprise. Seonghwa was a worse liar than someone who couldn’t control their powers, the truth spilling out from him despite his best efforts. “...Maybe?”

The garden fairy had yet to gauge your reaction. He wished to spare the flustered image of you in his mind for just a little while longer before ruining it forever with the expected disappointment souring your features. 

“Red for love and passion…” Your voice rang out like a wind chime and Seonghwa  slowly looked up at you who had your eyes set on the beautiful flowers. “Yellow for warmth and friendship. Pink for joy and appreciation, and white for new beginnings.”

“You know the meaning behind them,” Seonghwa whispered in awe. 

A soft smile spread across your face. “It would be embarrassing if I didn’t considering my best friend is a garden fairy.”

There was a mutual understanding not to prance over the obvious mishap and Seonghwa released a blow of relief as you didn’t laugh at him and the slip of control over his abilities. The silence returned with a comforting undertone, soft and steady, allowing space for peace to settle in. Neither you nor Seonghwa tensed or fidgeted at the lack of conversation and simply basked in each other’s presence. The fear and sheer anxiety of meeting your soulmate was for nothing as Seonghwa proved to be more tender than a flower. The flame burning inside of you flickered brighter with each gentle word he spoke and you hoped, with every ounce of your being, that he felt the same, that he too was drawn to this connection as deeply as you were. 

“The flowers are for you.” Seonghwa was the first to interrupt the silence. Perhaps the soulmate connection ran deeper than a simple countdown leading up to the moment you met.

“Huh?”

“The roses. They are for you. It’s what I felt– What I feel when I’m with you.”

“Oh!”

He let out a sound something between a huff and chuckle at your sudden rigid position while you begged for your face to cool off.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume you feel the same?”

“Not at all.” You bit the inside of your lip and tapped your fingers along your thigh. “Would it be wrong of me to say I really like you?”

Seonghwa held your gaze. The warmth of his smile seeping into your bones and spreading throughout your already heated body. He gently dropped his hand on the wooden surface with the palm facing the clear sky. Cautious yet daring, your finger extended from your remaining fingers as if testing the waters. It grazed the soft skin of his palm and it was the brief contact you needed to slide your hand in his, fingers intertwining and giving each other comforting squeezes.

“Not at all,” he breathed out, his thumb running along the side of yours.

Bonus: 

“No, Jongho, you don’t understand. I told her I didn’t want to her if she wouldn’t come back with her soulmate. It’s been hours since then! What if she’s kidnapped? Or murdered? Or sold overseas?!”

In the time you were enjoying the company of your newfound soulmate. Showing Seonghwa the town where bits and pieces of your childhood were sprinkled in the streets, coffee shops, book shops, restaurants, playgrounds and elementary- to high school. Yeosang was slowly losing his mind in the safety of his flower shop, prancing back and forth as his mind theorized a hundred different ways harm could come your way. Jongho helplessly watched his soulmate get his daily steps in. The werewolf, despite being younger than the fairy, was quite calm about the whole ordeal. It was more likely that your phone had died than for your soulmate to kidnap and take you to another country in a span of three hours. 

“Yeosang, love, I need you to calm down–”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Jongho!”

The werewolf threw his hands up in surrender. It wasn’t everyday the calm and collected garden fairy who followed strangers home to see their puppies and kittens lashed out on others, especially not his own soulmate. 

“Whoa, can we go back to using our inner voices, please?”

That seemed to snap Yeosang out of his frustrated stupor. He sighed and ran a hand through his multicolored hair. “Sorry, Jjong. I’m just worried for her.”

“I get that, but working yourself up over nothing won’t help. I mean, you haven’t even tried calling her…”

“That’s because I don’t want to interrupt if everything’s going alright! That would just be embarrassing for us both!”

As Jongho parted his lips to reassure his boyfriend that there was nothing embarrassing about checking on his best friend to see if she was alive, the door of the flower shop opened. The person Yeosang had been prematurely growing gray hairs over waltzed in with a bright smile on her face and a handsome man in tow. Yeosang’s jaw went slack and Jongho leaned back in shock, certainly not expecting you to heed Yeosang’s threat and bring your soulmate to his very shop. 

You cleared your throat, “Yeosang, Jongho. This is Seonghwa, my soulmate. Seonghwa, this is my best friend Yeosang and his soulmate Jongho.”

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 5.4k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; longer chapter update! let's just say...i had fun writing this one scene for the upcoming chapters lol. not proof-read but i will later. also check out the playlist i've made for this fic! happy reading! <3

CHAPTER SIX

SYDNEY

The moment my foot stepped inside the arena, a wave of nostalgia hit me so hard it nearly knocked the breath out of me.

The sharp, crisp scent of ice, the faint sound of blades cutting through the rink, the soft hum of chatter from the skaters–it was all the same.

Home. That was what this place had once been to me.

It was weird thinking of it that way, but in truth, that was the only word to describe it. 

I swallowed, trying to push down the rush of reminiscence. It’s been years, you should be used to this by now.

It wasn’t that long ago when I finally mustered up the courage to bring myself back to this arena–or to any rink really. I don’t know why I’ve pulled myself away from it. Perhaps it was feelings like this that I wanted to avoid. 

Disappointment. Sadness. Regret.

I was only avoiding the inevitable. I just needed to stop moping around and grow a pair of pants. But, how could I?

When the one thing that defined me, that thing that gave me a sense of purpose, the fire that fueled me was suddenly gone–it felt like a wave of water putting it all out. And now, I was just drowning.

For a long time, I let myself stay underwater. I ignored competitions, unfollowed my former teammates, avoiding every reminder that skating had ever been part of me. 

I tried convincing myself that I could move on, that I didn’t need it. And for a while, I almost believed it. 

But Diane never let me disappear completely. She convinced me to come by now and then, just to visit, just to watch. And somehow, those visits turned into me coming to the rink every week or so.

It wasn’t the same as being on the ice, but helping in any way I could for those kids, it felt like I was on the ice with them.

I don't remember the last time I visited, it’s been a while. More bookings and classes were piling up at the studio, I couldn’t find the time. Then Diane had told me a few days ago that the kids she trained were asking about me. They missed me, apparently. 

And that alone had been enough to convince me to come.

So, I figured I’d drop by after my session with Quinn.

I just didn’t expect Quinn to be here too as he walked beside me, looking around as if this area of the building was foreign territory to him. It probably was. 

I knew the Canucks trained at this same arena–besides the Rogers Arena–but their rink and practice times had always been separate from the figure skating academy’s. Or at least, that was how it used to be. 

Now, with the off-season schedule and the regular season over, things had shifted. Today, by some uncanny coincidence, Quinn’s practice and the academy’s session overlapped.

I had expected him to head straight to his rink, but instead, he followed me as I made my way to the side of the smaller figure skating rink.

“The Canucks’ had practices here for years and I had no idea they had a figure skating academy here.”

“I expected that,” I glanced at him while we walked. “Didn’t take you for someone who strayed from the main rink.” 

He smirked slightly. “Didn’t take you for someone who had another life as a skater.”

“Former skater.” I corrected him.

My lips pressed together as I realized how defensive I sounded. But luckily, Quinn didn’t seem to catch on to it since his focus was on the rink in front of us.

I spotted Diane gliding across the ice, effortlessly moving between her young students as she gave out directions. The kids followed her lead, some practicing jumps, their blades slicing clean lines into the pristine surface, others focused on footwork.

Diane noticed me first, her face lighting up as she waved from the center of the ice. She blew her whistle, calling out, “Alright, everyone, finish up with a few laps!”

The kids groaned but obeyed, starting their loops around the rink. I saw from my peripheral Quinn smiling at that–I was guessing he had related to the same memories as well.

Diane skated towards us against the boards, her arms already outstretched. I barely had time to prepare before she pulled me into a tight hug. 

“Hey! So glad you came–” Her words cut off as soon as her eyes landed on Quinn who stood next to me. I knew that look on her face. It was the expression she had when Channing Tatum popped up on the screen. Mid-hug, she leaned in and whispered, “–What is Quinn Hughes doing here? With you?”

“I’ll explain later.” I mumbled quickly before pulling away from her embrace. Then I turned to Quinn. “Hughes, this is my friend, Diane. She runs the figure skating academy as one of the development coaches.”

“Hey. I remember you from the cafe a few weeks ago with Sydney, right? I’m Quinn.” He held out his hand and offered Diane a handshake.

Diane shook his hand far too excitedly, like she was more happy to see him than me. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you. Congrats on a great season by the way, I’m a huge fan.”

“But you haven’t even watched the Canucks play–”

“So,” she stopped me before I could finish. “What brings you here? Isn’t the bigger rink over on the other side of the building?”

“I’m just tagging along.” Quinn said loosely, hands in his hoodie pockets. “I’ve never visited a figure skating academy before, so I figured I could check it out."

Before Diane could dig for details, the kids finished their cool-down laps and were down swarming towards the doors. 

As soon as they spotted me, their faces lit up, and in an instant, I was engulfed in their smaller arms and excited voices overlapping each other.

“Sydney! You came!”

“Miss Sydney, we missed you!”

“Took you long enough!”

I laughed, hugging them back, memories from months ago flooding in. 

During the times I've visited, I usually sat, watched, or helped whenever I could. I never overstepped, just gave them some pointers on jumps, refining their edges, and corrected their landing. Diane never minded–if anything, she encouraged it.

But, I still kept my distance at times knowing that being too close to the sport would only bring back the ache I had worked so hard to numb.

“I missed you guys too.” I said while greeting each one of them.

My eyes flickered to the one skater who didn’t join in on the chaos. Arielle.

She lingered on the ice and stood along the boards, gripping them tightly, frustration etched into every line of her face. I knew that look. I understood the weight of it.

Before I could say anything, she made a beeline past us with her head down, then disappeared to the locker rooms.

“What’s wrong with Arielle?” I asked.

“She kept falling on her jumps today. She’s mad about it.” One of the kids explained.

I let out a short exhale and exchanged glances with Diane, fully aware about it.

My gaze followed the direction Arielle had gone. I had known Arielle for a while. She wasn’t the loudest in the group, but her passion for skating burned quietly beneath the surface. She was one of the older and more advanced skaters in the academy, incredibly talented but took mistakes hard.

Before I could dwell on it, I heard an excited gasp from behind me.

“Wait a second–Quinn Hughes?”

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

The kids turned their attention to Quinn–completely abandoning me for the Canucks’ captain.

Their eyes widening in disbelief followed by shouts of excitement. Some squealed, others gasped, and a few immediately began digging through their bags for their phones or anything he could sign.

Quinn, to his credit, handled it well. He laughed while greeting them, “Hey guys, looking good out there.”

“You think so?” One of them pipped.

Quinn smiled. “Are you kidding? You all looked so cool, I don’t think I could ever do that.”

The kids practically melted in admiration for the NHL star which accompanied with a wave of voices. All of them pleading for signatures and photos. Quinn was in the center of the group, looking slightly overwhelmed.

I was quick to step in. “Alright, guys that's enough. ive him some space. He’s a really busy guy.” 

The kids frowned and sighed disappointedly at that. But Quinn glances at me, shaking his head. “I don’t mind.” 

I gave him a look. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no trouble,” he said easily, then he turned to face the kids. “Anything for you guys.”

They all cheered and quickly lined up in front of him. So, I backed away closer to Diane as he let the kids take turns posing with him, signing skates, chatting, and entertaining them.

In contrast to what happened earlier at the studio with the reporters–this Quinn was more soft and warm towards the younger skaters. The sight of it tugged something in me. It was cute.

Meanwhile, Diane leaned in, her question from earlier resurfacing. “Are you going to tell me how you and Quinn Hughes came here together?”

I sighed, unsure whether I wanted to relive that chaotic moment. But, Diane would pry it out of me anyways. “We had our session at the studio earlier. Then when it ended, things got crazy with the media showing up and came by surprise. And I couldn’t get to my car, so he offered me a ride. I was already planning to head over, and his practice was at the other rink. It just worked out, that’s all.”

Diane’s eyes widened, looking surprised. “Sydney, that’s fucking insane. You ran into trouble with the media? How are you so calm right now? I would be freaking out.” She was clearly not buying the casualness of my explanation.

“I mean, if Quinn wasn’t there–” I paused, glancing at him with the kids. “–I would have been mobbed by the reporters. He helped me out of it.”

Just when Diane was about to fire rapid-questions at me, one of the girls, after taking a picture with Quinn, walked over to me and Diane. 

She gestured to me to lean down, whispering in my ear. “Your boyfriend’s cute. You’re so lucky to be dating him.”

Wait. What?

“What? Wait–no, Quinn’s not my–”

Before I could say anything and deny it to her, she had already ran off with a cheeky grin plastered across her face. 

I barely had the chance to process it before Quinn returned as he finished dealing with the kids. He had walked over just in time to hear the last bit and tilted his head at me. “I’m not your what?”

Shit.

“Nothing.” I stiffened. He was about to press further, but I quickly changed the subject. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for practice by now?”

“Yeah, in a bit.” He checked the wall clock sitting above us. “It’s still a few minutes early. Are you two heading out soon?”

Diane nodded. “Syd and I have big plans for the evening.”

That piqued Quinn’s interest, but I rolled my eyes at my friend’s exaggeration. “I wouldn’t call watching The Office and downing a bottle of wine ‘big’ plans, Di.”

“But you were the one most looking forward to it than–”

“That reminds me–” I butt in before my traitorous friend exposed me, earning both of their attention now. “We need to go get my car from the studio. I think the reporters should be gone by now.”

Diane nodded as she began gathering her things. “Yes. We’ll get going soon. Just give me a sec.” She picked up an average size box next to her filled with stacks of paper. “Kenneth told me to print these flyers out to tack them down on the arena’s bulletin boards.”

Kenneth was the head director of the academy. He didn’t coach either me or Diane when we skated, but I haven’t met another person who had the same passion for figure skating as I did. Always supported his skaters and never missed an opportunity to show up to competitions.

I shook the thought out when Diane handed me one of them to read. 

Quinn walked closer from behind and soon enough leaned over my shoulder to examine the paper. He towered over me, his chest was basically against my back, and his face hovering very close to mine.

He wasn’t even touching me, but his presence was enough to make my face burn up despite the rink’s chill. Get it together, Syd.

“‘The Vancouver FSA presents the Fifteenth Annual Junior Skating Challenge taking place in late September.’ That’s pretty cool.” Quinn read aloud.

Diane nodded. “It’s a big stepping stone for a lot of young skaters.” 

“Did you two ever compete in it?” He glanced between me and Diane.

My friend beamed at that. “Are you kidding? Sydney won it several times growing up! She was the best junior skater in the academy–actually, in the city if I’m being honest.” 

The expression on Quinn’s face shifted into something almost…impressed. “You were? You didn’t tell me you were such a star, Gray.”

“No, no, I wasn’t. Trust me, I wasn’t that good.” I tried denying it, but Quinn didn’t look all that convinced. Based on Diane’s reaction, he knew she wasn’t lying or exaggerating either.

“Why would you quit if you were that good?”

My stomach twisted. I couldn’t tell him, not right now. So I forced myself to say, “I just didn’t want to skate anymore.”

I felt Diane’s sympathetic gaze burn into me. Besides my brother Simon, she was the only other person who knew why I dodged around that question. She had been there and saw it all happen.

Quinn frowned at my answer. “Oh come on, no one just stops doing what they love.”

“Figure skating is a hard sport.” I argued.

“I would have loved to see you compete. You know, teach me some edge work.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that. Like I said, I wasn’t that good.”

I could tell that Quinn was slightly getting frustrated with me and my dismissive answers. I don't blame him. He knew what I was doing, he wasn’t stupid. 

But, he wasn’t satisfied yet as he scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. Not when Diane just said you were the best skater in the city. I’m sure she wouldn’t lie about that.”

“She was just exaggerating.”

“I highly doubt it–”

“I got hurt, okay!” The words escaped before I could even stop them.

Oh no.

My voice rang through the now empty rink, sharper and louder than I intended. I swallowed hard, felt my heart pounding as silence fell between us. Diane looked away, and Quinn's eyes were on me, startled, then shifted as if he realized he had pushed too far. 

Quinn reached a hand out towards me. “Sydney, I’m–”

Diane cleared her throat, ever the savior stepped in. “We should get going, Syd,” she turned over to Quinn, offering him a small smile. “It was nice meeting you, Quinn.”

He returned the smile back with his lips pressed into a thin line. “You too,” he said to Diane. Then his apologetic eyes that reeked of regret and guilt laid on mine. “I’ll see you on Monday, Gray.” 

It sounded a lot more of a question than a statement. He’s probably wondering if this conversation had cost him the one-on-one cross-training sessions, wondering if I was ever going to see or speak to him ever again. I thought of that as well. But, I chose to settle for–

“Looking forward to it, Hughes.” I gave him a nod and a weak smile.

I didn’t look back once we started walking to the exit of the arena, I felt Quinn’s eyes idle on me before we turned the corner and out of his view. 

“Wow,” Diane said once we got inside her car.

And she didn’t have to say anything more.

I didn’t know how to put it into words either.

“So, did you get up to anything fun last weekend?”

It was the last few minutes of my regular morning slots with Phoebe. While she was going on about her rant about the new events in her life–including her divorce papers being finalized–my body moved through the last half of the session like I was on autopilot.

I barely processed what she had asked before giving her a small shrug. “Not really, just the usual.”

Phoebe hummed, unconvinced as she adjusted her stretching position on the mat. “I don’t buy that one bit, Syd. You think I haven’t noticed you seem a bit checked-out today?”

Just when I thought I could keep it together. Clearly, I couldn’t.

I hesitated, not knowing what to say to her. Besides Diane, Phoebe has known me long enough to catch on with what was roaming in my mind before I did. I couldn’t tell if that was for better or for worse given that she loves to pry the drama out of me.

“It was a tough morning, I didn't get to make my coffee in time.” I didn’t necessarily lie to her, it was true. Just not the real truth I wanted to tell her.

Phoebe nodded, she seemed to buy it, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, no, I get it. I’d be a total menace without my coffee. My brain just doesn’t boot up properly without it.”

I sighed in relief as Phoebe began rambling, something about her weekend or the gossip she overheard in the hair salon. But as she was talking, my mind completely drifted off elsewhere. I couldn’t focus because my thoughts were pulled back to what happened last week.

With Quinn.

He was going to be here in a few hours for our cross-training session, and I had no idea how I was going to face him without thinking about the other day. Without thinking about the way I lashed out on him–snapped really, and held back from telling him everything.

Why didn’t I just tell him?

Because the truth was, I wanted to.

I wanted to tell him about the accident, about the way my entire world had shattered in the space of a few seconds. But there was a part of me that kept pulling back from doing so, something warned me against opening up.

And yet, I couldn’t avoid it forever. If we were going to be working all summer. There was no doubt that I’d have to tell him sooner or later–or he’d figure it out for himself.

If the conversation we had at the arena was any indication of that, Quinn wasn’t the type to let things fly past him. Not when he wanted answers. He had already pushed me to the point of breaking right then and there. I wasn’t so sure if I’d be able to hold it in next time. 

Hoping there won’t be a next time.

“Syd?”

Phoebe’s voice brought me back to the present. She raised her brows at me, noticing I haven’t been paying attention to her. “Sorry,” I said, shaking the rest of my thoughts out. “I, uh–What were you saying?”

Phoebe smiled as she began packing her things. She knew better than to force her way to make me tell her what was really bugging me. So she didn’t push. “I was just saying that I should get going now. See you later in the week?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, forcing a smile. “See you then, Phoebe.”

As soon as she left the room, I let out a slow breath. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved that Phoebe wasn’t her usual pestering-self that I didn’t need to tell her what was going through my head. Or even more unsettled knowing that in moments from now, I would have to face Quinn. Alone.

The moment he stepped into the studio, I knew it was going to be awkward. I felt it in the way he hesitated by the door before he walked in, the sound of his footsteps echoing lightly against the hardwood floor.

“Hey,” he said as he set his duffle down.

“Hi,” I said in return, keeping my voice neutral. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he walked over to the mats–while pulling over his hoodie–and started stretching. “So,” he paused, nudging back to the foyer. “What’s with the security guard in the front?”

Oh right. That.

I guess he couldn’t have missed it considering how out of place it was. A security guard for a Pilates studio? What an odd combo. 

But after the fiasco last week, Grace had talked with Rick to implement tighter security if the media were to come back again. They were lucky to keep any of the pictures or articles out of wraps before they were posted anywhere. What a disaster that would’ve been.

“Oh yeah,” I started. “Grace, Rick, and the Canuck’s management hired them after the surprise attack the other day. They couldn’t risk that happening again, so this was their solution.”

Quinn hummed in agreement, then scoffed lightly. “Gotta love the press, right?’

I shook my head before I turned to face him. Our eyes accidentally locking on each other, and for a second we stayed like that, before I blinked and moved over to the reformer. “Funny…let’s get started.”

The awkwardness between us was almost unbearable. We went through more initial stretches and the first half of the session in near perfect silence. I only spoke when I guided him through each exercise, and the sound coming from the music playing through the speakers. 

It was so fucking obvious that the tension between us wasn’t going away.

Just a matter of who was going to talk about the elephant in the room first.

Though, it was Quinn who finally cracked, surprisingly enough. 

“Listen, Gray,” he said, breaking the silence. “About last week–” I tensed, already knowing where this was going. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I really had no business asking you those questions that weren’t mine to ask.” 

I fixed my eyes on him and sighed. “I’m sorry too. I overreacted and shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did.”

“No,” Quinn said firmly. “It was my fault. I never should’ve asked if you didn’t want to answer.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to answer.” I paused and there was a beat of silence. “It’s just…hard.”

I knew what I had to do. If we were going to be stuck doing the cross-training program together, I might as well tell him. There was no avoiding it anymore, especially now that he knew about my skating past.

It was one thing to keep it from people I knew such as my coworkers, Phoebe, and other friends. But it was another trying to hide it from a professional athlete who also grew up skating on a rink their whole life. 

I exhaled slowly. “I got into an accident and it happened seven years ago, I was only seventeen during a junior competition to qualify for nationals.” Quinn didn’t interrupt and stopped his movements on the reformer. He just listened. “I attempted a jump I had landed a hundred times before. Then during the short program, everything was going well until I landed wrong on my right leg. My knee–” I stopped, swallowing down the lump in my throat, looking down at where the scar was. “It gave out and I severely tore a ligament. And just like that, my career was over and now the start of this one.” 

I hadn’t told or talked about it since. It had happened so long ago that I doubt anyone remembered. Although, people were there to witness my fall. I remembered looking at them, they stared at me with pitiful eyes and told me that they felt bad for me. I hated that.

The weight of my confession hung between us. Quinn’s expression shifted, his features softening with steady sympathetic eyes. No, don’t do this. Don’t feel sorry for me.

“Sydney…” he said, voice low. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t like it when people felt bad for me. It made it worse, somehow. Made me feel like I was being pitied rather than understood. 

But with Quinn, it felt different. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to have someone care—not out of obligation or pity, but simply because they wanted to.

I gave him a faint smile. “Thanks Hughes, I appreciate that, really.” The air between us grew thick again. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the heavy emotions tempting to break. “Alright, enough talking. Let’s get back to work, you still haven’t finished this set yet.”

Quinn returned the smile and got back to his original position on the reformer. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

We worked through the rest of the session in silence, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy. The tension from earlier had shifted into something else. Something lighter.

To break the mood and pick up the intensity, I gave him a difficult variant of the lunge exercise–using the carriage and free-weights. And as predicted, he struggled with it. I tried not to smirk at the sight of it. I had to keep his ego in check somehow.

To his credit, he tried. He really did. But as each rep passed, I could see him falter in his form. His balance wavered, his muscles trembling from the effort.

“Need some help over there?” I asked, tilting my head at him.

“No, I got it,” he said immediately. Stubborn as ever.

I sighed and went over to him anyway to correct his form, adjusting his stance. But his body was reluctant to move. “You’re going to tip over if you don’t–”

Before I could finish or react, Quinn lost his balance mid-lunge, and not a second later, he was falling straight to the floor.

And I came down with him.

He hit the hardwood first with an audible groan. I shook my head, that fall basically gave me whiplash as my head ran in circles. Neither of us moved for a moment. The impact sent a shock through my body, but that wasn’t what made my breath catch.

It was the realization of the current position we were in.

I don’t know how, but I landed on top of him–straddling–as my hands were braced against his chest. And his hands–large, warm, and firm, free of the weights he was holding seconds ago–were gripping my waist, like he’d instinctively tried to steady me on the way down.

I felt my face start to heat up with my face so close to his, but I couldn’t look away. His chest rose and fell beneath my palms. And the way they felt underneath–solid, grounded, safe.

Safe? No, no, no.

I needed to get up now. But for some reason, I couldn’t. Couldn’t? Or didn’t want to?

We were underneath the cooling vent from the ceiling above, and the blast of air sent shivers up and down my arms. Quinn’s body was the only source of warmth. 

My eyes drifted down for a second. A soft dark grey shirt was molded to shoulders and chest, not too tight but enough to see the hint of his muscles through it. Most likely ridden up because of the fall, revealing a strip of his skin above the waistband of his shorts. And unlike the usual sharpness of his blue eyes, they seemed to soften as his gaze flickered down. To my lips.

My heart thundered as if it was going to leap out my chest. Was he going to–

And then, of course– because fate had a cruel sense of humor–the door flung open. 

Fuck.

“Hey Syd. I forgot my water bottle. Oh–” The familiar voice that belonged to Phoebe cut through the moment like a knife. Quinn and I both snapped our heads toward her. She blinked, unsure as to what she was seeing. Then she began smirking, which wasn’t a good sign. “Oh my, who’s this? Are you two–”

“Phoebe!” 

I tried my best to scramble off Quinn, accidentally putting all my weight on him, earning a slight groan. I was quick to find Phoebe’s water bottle on the floor where she had left it, and practically shoving it into her hands. 

“Sorry, this is a private studio session,” I whispered to her. “How did you even get in here?”

“I told the security guard I forgot something and he let me in,” she said amused, like she made the right decision to retrieve her bottle at the perfect timing. Her eyes flicked between me and Quinn, her smile even more evident than before. “So…what exactly did I just walk into, hm?” 

“Nothing,” I answered too quickly for comfort.

“Mmhmm. Sure.”

Yep, there was no way out of this one. She was not going to let this go.

I groaned, ushering her back into the hallway. “I’ll fill you in on it next time. Now please, go.” 

“You sure you don’t want to introduce me to–”

“Next session, Phoebe. Please?”

"Okay, okay. Fine." She chuckled but finally left with a teasing wave. 

I exhaled, turning back to the room, and directing my attention to Quinn. He was still on the floor, staring off into space like he was still processing what happened a few seconds ago.

“Are you just gonna sit there all day?” I said with a soft smile, walking over to my bag on the floor.

Then he sat upright, holding himself up, and leaned back on his palms when he heard me. “Maybe. The floor’s kind of nice. Thinking of making it my new workout mat.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms at that. “Try not to fall next time then.”

“Try not to use me as a landing mat, Gray.” His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh. “You basically manhandled me mid-lunge.”

“Manhandled? Don’t be dramatic, Hughes.” I spat like that had really offended me. “And besides, if you had better balance, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

He raised his brows, and was suddenly on his feet, inching closer to me. “Weren’t you the one who said touching a client while moving on the carriage was a safety hazard?” He smirked once he saw the growing realization in my face. “What? Surprised that I actually listened?”

He–well, okay, he had a point. “No–” I faltered, giving him a look. “–but, I’m flattered that you actually listen during my sessions, and taking it seriously. I don’t think my brother would have lasted the entire summer.”

Quinn shook his head, going after his belongings on the floor. I hadn’t noticed it was the end of our session already. Time really did fly whenever I was with him for training. 

“I doubt that he would,” he said before sipping water from his bottle. “Do you think he planned the birth of his baby to avoid doing all of this?

I let out a laugh, “Maybe not, but wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”

We both made our way to the studio’s entrance, greeting the security guard, and stood in awkward silence for a moment until Quinn spoke.

“Sorry about earlier, I’ll try not to fall next time,” he started, but then took a slow exhale, probably wanting to talk about what I had told him earlier. “Also, thanks for sharing about your accident. I know you didn’t want to and you don’t really trust me yet, but I’m glad that you did.” 

I didn’t make a habit of trusting anyone besides my family and Diane, but at that moment, it was hard to remember why I kept Quinn at arms length.

I nodded and smiled, “Thanks for listening, Quinn.” 

There was something about the way his eyes lit up and a growing grin after hearing his name roll off my tongue so effortlessly–like I was meant to say it. I hadn’t realized until now that I never called him by his name, at least not directly. 

I probably got it from Simon whenever he went off about Quinn. That was the only appropriate name he had for the Canucks captain other than–actually, it’s best to not mention them. 

He said ‘bye’ before walking out–no reporters this time thankfully–leaving me standing there with a racing heart and mind of thoughts I didn’t know how to deal with.

Quinn wasn’t my brother’s enemy as everyone kind of perceives him to be or my trainee–he was the person that listened to me, and didn’t make me feel like an object of pity when I had told him about my accident.

I caught myself smiling at the thought, but easily wiped it off. What was wrong with me, honestly?

That alone was enough for me to realize–that Quinn Hughes could matter in ways I wasn’t ready for.

Which made him all the more dangerous. 

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