#maybe you should??? to understand it better??? hello???
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unboundprompts · 2 days ago
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Hello! Can you help me and/or give me examples of how to write a pre-teen? Specifically a slightly mature for their age but still socially-awkward, selfless, empathetic, extroverted 10-year-old
How to Write a Pre-Teen
Voice and Language
Simple but specific vocabulary: Pre-teens might not use very complex words, but they often know and throw in some “big words” they’ve recently learned or mimic words they hear adults use. Don’t overdo it, though—they’ll often misapply or half-understand these terms, which can create natural, humorous moments.
“It’s totally, like, a catastrophe that I forgot my project.”
Expressive dialogue: Pre-teens are enthusiastic and often exaggerate. They can also shift quickly between emotions, from excitement to frustration.
“That was the best movie ever!” might turn into “Actually, I mean, it was kinda boring in some parts, but, you know, overall…”
Thoughtful yet blunt: Kids this age often haven’t fully learned the “filters” adults use. They can be direct and say things that are surprisingly insightful or unexpectedly honest.
Thoughts and Perspective
Developing identity and opinions: They’re beginning to form their own beliefs but still echo the views of family, teachers, or friends.
“Mom says people should never lie, but I wonder if little lies are okay if they help people feel better…”
Questioning and introspective moments: Pre-teens are curious about life, relationships, and “big ideas.” They may ask questions, but sometimes keep their deep thoughts to themselves, exploring them internally.
“If friends are supposed to be there for each other, why do I feel alone even when they’re around?”
Struggle with abstract concepts: At this age, they’re just beginning to understand abstract ideas like justice or friendship but often approach them in straightforward, literal ways.
Behavior and Actions
Impulsivity and energy: They might shift quickly between activities and emotions, getting distracted or excited without much control over it. They may also blurt out ideas or act before thinking, especially if they’re extroverted.
For instance, a character might immediately jump up to help someone even if they aren’t sure what to do, or they might “borrow” something without fully considering the consequences.
Physical awkwardness: Pre-teens can be a bit clumsy as they’re still growing into their bodies. This can lead to endearing, awkward moments.
They might knock something over, trip over their own feet, or feel self-conscious in ways that show they’re still figuring themselves out physically as well as socially.
Friendships and Social Dynamics
Navigating social rules: Pre-teens are very aware of social “rules” but may not fully understand them. This is an age when they care a lot about what their friends think, but they’re also just beginning to question these dynamics.
A pre-teen might want to befriend the “cool” kids but feel conflicted when they realize their values don’t align. Or they may try too hard to impress friends and feel self-conscious afterward.
Conflicted loyalties: Friendships are often intense at this age, and they might struggle with conflicting feelings if friends argue or if they feel left out.
“I really like hanging out with Sarah, but I know Emma doesn’t. Maybe if I can make them both laugh, we could all just… get along?”
Small gestures: Pre-teens often show they care in understated ways, like sharing snacks, giving a small gift, or cheering someone up when they’re down. For a socially-awkward pre-teen, these gestures may come out clumsy but sweet.
Insecurity and Self-Awareness
Self-consciousness mixed with bravery: Pre-teens often fluctuate between trying to fit in and wanting to stand out. They might do something brave but then doubt themselves or quickly retreat if things don’t go as planned.
For instance, a character might volunteer to speak in front of the class only to feel panicked once they’re in the spotlight.
Hyper-awareness of themselves and others: They’re beginning to notice how others perceive them and may get flustered easily or worry about little things, like if their clothes look okay or if they sounded silly.
“I shouldn’t have laughed like that… I bet everyone thought I sounded so weird.”
Joking as a defense: Pre-teens often use humor to cope, covering up their awkwardness or discomfort by making jokes.
Reactions to Conflict and Emotion
Quick emotional shifts: They might go from laughing to frustrated to embarrassed in just a few minutes. They feel emotions intensely and may have outbursts or react strongly to things adults might dismiss as minor.
Heroic ideals vs. real-world disappointments: Many pre-teens have an idealized view of right and wrong, fairness, and heroism, and they may be disappointed when things don’t align with these ideals. They’re just starting to understand that people aren’t all good or all bad.
“I don’t get it… why would she lie about something like that? Friends are supposed to be honest!”
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epickiya722 · 2 months ago
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It sucks that people did just have a first and only impression of the last chapter from just the leaks because almost everyone and their mama go "so the other characters hate Gojo and forgotten about him".
It's not true.
Yeah, we didn't get a funeral for Gojo (I honestly feel like in universe because the Gojo family had something to do with that). That sucks. But we didn't get any funeral or memorial service of some kind for Nanami, Yuki and Choso and I don't see anyone getting into feelings them as much. Yuki wasn't even in the group picture, but I guess that not a lot of people noticed that.
I adore Gojo, but come on. Let's not act as if he is the only character who got disrespected and/or "forgotten".
On top of that, he isn't even forgotten. There was a whole flashback of Gojo and Yuji talking and fast forward, Yuji repeats the same words Gojo said to him to someone else.
That doesn't sound like he's forgotten to me.
Just thinking about their conversation, has me feeling like there's a tad bit of irony here.
Gojo says that at least one person will forget him, move on and be strong in his absence.
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As I said in my other post, I do think this is Gojo not wanting people to rely on him and set their limits to his standards. Instead of working to be as strong as him, work to be stronger, to be better.
If there is one person who can achieve that it's Yuji. But at the same time, Yuji wouldn't forget him.
Hell, Nanami died in October and Yuji didn't forget him as we saw in 265.
While other characters may "forget" Gojo, one won't.
Even so, I doubt that some of the other characters will. Yuta has stitches across his forehead. You can't tell him every time he looks in the mirror, he's not going to be reminded of Gojo. Gojo provided for Megumi and Tsumiki for years, I doubt Megumi would forget him. Shoko is the person who was upset that Gojo believed he was alone even though she was his friend, too. You think Shoko is going to forget about him? No.
I know the chapter wasn't the best but damn.
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isamoa · 11 months ago
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“ COMIN’ BACK FOR MORE! ”
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jjk men x f!reader ࿐ MDNI.
ᰔ、summary. jjk men when the pussy is too good
ᰔ、tags. (ft. toji, geto, gojo, choso, sukuna, nanami), nsfw, female anatomy, fwb tropes, unestablished relations, p in v, threesome, cunnilingus, virgin!choso, fingering, homewrecking/cheating
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──── TOJI FUSHIGURO、
toji didnt do the whole “friends with benefits” thing. he was more of a hit and run type of guy when it came to fucking—and he planned on keeping it that way when you came around. sure you were a little cuter than other girls he’s been with, he’ll admit that. but that didn’t make you any different.
but your face card was the least of his worries, and poor toji was unfortunately a little too late to realize it. your pussy was what he should have really been afraid of. it sucked him dry like no other had ever before; leaving him a confused mess when he left your apartment without a word the next morning.
he had an unfamiliar desire to do it all over again with you. toji fushiguro never slept with the same girl twice. but maybe he could make an exception—just this once.
“thought you only did one night stands?” you confronted the man on top of you suddenly, whining at the way he pushed down on your legs; knees practically touching your ears. it was well past midnight when toji had unexpectedly shown up at your door unannounced, not even bothering to give a simple ‘hello’ before his mouth was on yours and he was pushing you towards the couch. “had to have this pussy again, ma.” he admitted with defeat, hips plowing harshly into your stretched cunt. no amount of pride could have stopped him from coming back to this. you felt too fucking good to give up so easily—he wasn’t gonna let you get away as easy as everyone else. “it’s so fucking- you’re too fuckin’ good.” he stuttered out, his cock throbbing at the orgasmic feeling of your walls tightening around him. “so fuckin’ perfect for me.”
──── SATORU GOJO + SUGURU GETO、
gojo and geto did everything together. it was normal for best friends to want the same thing—and apparently that applied to woman too. suguru even planned on keeping you a secret at first, but ultimately couldn’t help himself from calling up satoru to tell him how good of a fuck he just had.
you couldn’t remember what had exactly led to you sleeping with the both of them, all you knew was that if you had one—you had to have the other?
you didn’t really understand their reasoning for it, but you weren’t gonna turn the idea down. especially when gojo insisted that if you didn’t fuck the both of them, you wouldn’t fuck at all.
“can’t believe you weren’t gonna share this with me, sug.” satoru mumbled between your legs, referring to the man but yet speaking to your cunt. you were positioned comfortably in suguru’s lap with your back against him, his chin resting on your shoulder while his fingers played with your clit and satoru’s tongue dug further into your folds. “knew you would act like an idiot.” suguru explained, his hand’s movements pausing for a moment to yank on satoru’s white strands in annoyance. his face lifted from the warmth between your thighs to cry out in pain, earning an annoyed whine on your end. “like you are now.” suguru spoke again, interrupting the man below who went to sit up, a snarl on his face before you spoke up in a frantic plea. “s-stop arguing and just let me cum.”
──── CHOSO KAMO、
you and choso were already good friends before the two of you had sex. heck, it wasn’t even a thought until he came to your house one late afternoon, saying something along the lines of needing to know how to give head since he’s starting to talk to this one girl. who better to teach him than you?
you agreed on behalf of being such a good friend—making him swear that it would only be a one time thing. he did so immediately of course; being that was what he had in mind to begin with.
but that soon was proven to be a lie when he ended up coming back to your place, insisting that he needed you to teach him how to fuck this time.
“like that?” he questioned quietly, his tone somewhat shaky from the rough pace he had going as he pushed into your slick cunt from behind, his hands gripping your waist with a gentle pressure. you groaned at the stretch, your face buried into the pillow to suppress your moans as your body jerked back and forth. “fuck- yeah cho, just like that.” you praised greedily, turning your head to rest on your cheek and look at him from behind. “doin’ so good baby.” you had almost forgotten you were supposed to be giving him tips—too focused on how good he felt; and how he didn’t even need any guidance. “you sure you never fucked anyone before?”
──── SUKUNA RYOMEN、
sukuna knew he was gonna get into your pants the second you introduced yourself to him. being roommates and all, this man heard everything. so he gladly took the chance to fuck you the moment he heard the front door close and you bid the guy you brought over a tired goodbye.
he’s heard you orgasm before when you touched yourself at dark hours, so it was easy to tell the difference when you faked one that same night before the man left. he took it upon himself to help you out; show you how a real man fucks.
the both of you found the amount of times you brought a date home getting lesser and lesser, before ultimately stopping completely. it just wasn’t worth it anymore; what with sukuna coming out of his bedroom to interrupt you the moment he heard you lead them into your own and all.
“finally gave up, huh pretty?” sukuna whispered huskily into your ear, his hand gripping your jaw tightly as he fucked his fingers into your soaked pussy. a whine escaped in response to his cocky comment, followed by a pout forming on your swollen lips. his fingers dug deeper, the base of his palm cupping your entire core as he pumped it in and out; a wet slapping noise filling the room. “no one fucks this pussy as good as me.” he states proudly, bringing your face up to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. “go on, say it.” he commands against your mouth; the last thing you hear before you’re gushing on his fingers, whining like a little bitch in heat. “that works too.”
──── KENTO NANAMI、
you met nanami at a bar a few days before you were supposed to start at your new job. your nerves were sky high, and you just wanted to go home with someone, fuck the shit out of them, and relax. you didn’t mean for the same someone to be your new coworker.
and it wasn’t a big deal at first—you fucked your coworker, so what?—at least not until you saw the sparkling wedding band that decorated his ring finger. that definitely wasn’t there the night at the bar.
he made you swear up and down to keep what happened between the two of you a secret; insisting that it was nothing more than a drunk accident and a horrible mistake. but apparently not horrible enough to stop him from sneaking you into the bathroom during his break every once in a while.
“you’re such a f-fucking pervert.” you cursed into the palm of kento’s hand that was wrapped securely around your mouth, his other one rubbing his throbbing cock along your wet folds. “fucking me when you’ve got a- shit.. wife at h-home.” you whimpered when he finally pushed into your sensitive hole, a groan erupting from his throat at the tightness. all this talk about being so loyal to his wife, but he’s got you sitting on the bathroom sink with his cock stuffed inside a pussy that doesn’t belong to him. he lets out a breathy chuckle, pulling your hips closer so you slap against his pelvis. “how ‘bout i make you a mommy then, hm?” he suggests, skin colliding against yours as the hand over your mouth moves to the side so he could peck your pouty lips. “get you knocked up so i can be with you full time.”
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yuellii · 1 year ago
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
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LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
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NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
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KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
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// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year ago
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Hello :) please could I request headcanons of the hashira having a crush on a hashira!reader who’s very motherly to the younger demon slayers but shy and secretly craving affection from the other hashira 💙💙
demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 1
characters: fem!reader x giyuu, rengoku, tengen, shinobu, kamaboko squad (mentioned)
AN: some of these are platonic instead of romantic.
pt. 2 with mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, and muichiro is HERE
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stop because i love this
you don't talk to the other hashira much
but its not because you don't like them!
they're just a little intimidating
and you want them to like you so bad
but what if you accidentally embarrass yourself in front of them
would be my biggest fear tbh
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GIYUU
this guy is just as shy as you are
awkward asf too
but seeing as you're one of the few hashira that are kind to him..
he really likes you
also really appreciates the way you take care of the younger slayers
especially the Kamado siblings
i mean he did literally put his life on the line for those two
you guys don't talk much when in each others company
really its more of a dead silence lmao
like thats a surprise at all lol
but he enjoys being in your presence
he thinks you have a very calming aura around you
and he never feels any hostility from you
if you guys are paired up on a mission?
my guy is glued to u
no way is a demon going to hurt someone as pure and kindhearted as u
not on giyuu's watch
even tho he's goin to be protective of u during missions
he knows that despite your sweet nature, ur a hell of a fighter
respects you sm
thinks of you as his only true friend within the corps
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RENGOKU
i can never get enough of him i swear
he absolutely adores you
goes out of his way to talk to you every chance he gets
ur all the way on the other side of the butterfly estate?
sunshine boy is hunting you down
ur on a mission a few miles away from his estate?
he's alrdy otw
also very oblivious
you get shy when he starts talking to you
maybe you start blushing
"oh are you sick? your face is all red. i hope you don't have a fever..."
and hes putting his hand on ur forehead to check ur temperature
if he touched me id faint
admires how you genuinely care for the younger slayers
the way you encourage them to get stronger
the way you help them train
the way you make sure they're eating and drinking enough
you remind him of his mother
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TENGEN
when him & his wives finally have children..
ur designated babysitter 100%
being the sound hashira he has a great sense of hearing
so he hears your interactions with the younger slayers
you're not afraid to talk to the kids
you comfort them. laugh with them, scold them, etc.
wonders why you act so differently in the presence of the hashira
makes it his mission to make you comfortable around him
u don't have to worry abt affection when tengen is concerned lol
compliments you 24/7
"you look very flashy today!"
"you are a great teacher!"
"You should become my 4th wife!"
no bc that lmfao ^
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SHINOBU
you two are very familiar with each other
it's very often that you're dragging inosuke or genya by the ear to the infirmary to be treated
mostly inosuke
so she is well aware of how motherly u can be
she's a regular witness to the many scoldings given out to the younger slayers
you also asked her to train you in basic first aid
your red face and stuttered words were so cute she acted like she couldn't understand you
just so you would repeat it
loves to tease you
nothing too bad!
and never mean!
just thinks you're so adorable
really appreciates when shes sent on missions and you help out in the infirmary
wants to be better friends with you
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oh-katsuki · 11 months ago
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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops
cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,
wc: 3.1k
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nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.
frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.
he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.
you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.
you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.
"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."
"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."
"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."
nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.
"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."
"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.
"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."
"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."
nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.
you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.
you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.
you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.
one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.
"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.
nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.
"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."
"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."
you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"
"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."
nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.
you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.
nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."
"sorry," you say.
"don't be," he responds.
this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.
"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.
"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.
"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."
you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.
you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.
"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.
nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.
you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.
"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."
nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.
"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.
"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.
"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."
you shake your head, "you."
nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.
you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.
something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.
nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.
"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."
nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.
"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.
you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.
you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.
nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.
your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.
for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.
you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.
instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.
you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.
"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.
nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.
nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.
you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.
"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"
you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."
nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.
"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.
something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.
nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.
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a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!
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sol-iscus · 4 days ago
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❗️Mild arcane spoilers ❗️
Miiight ruffle some feathers.
Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.
We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.
It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.
With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.
And I’m just gonna say it.
If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.
Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).
No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”
I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.
Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.
Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?
Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.
- Lost her whole family except for Vi.
- Almost died once and was brought back to life.
- Tried to end her life several more times
And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?
“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"
I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.
I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.
Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.
We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.
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jensthwa · 3 months ago
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i was made for lovin' you (PSH x reader)
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
In an attempt to grasp at his youth, Seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. When it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. Maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.  
PAIRING: new bike owner!seonghwa x afab mechanic!reader.
GENRE: strangers to lovers.
WORD COUNT: 20k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both seonghwa's and reader's), wooyoung being a little shit for the umpteenth time + jongho, yeosang AND hongjoong (omg), that feeling you get when your youth is ending, midlife crisis! (or so yunho says), a loooot of work related/motorcycle plot, flirting, seonghwa losing his rizz, reader is adopted so that may count as a trigger warning for some of you, shitty exes, crying a bit but not really, pet and nicknames (ghost, dear), they almost get caught in a thunderstorm, lots of tension, making out, oral ( f & m reciving ), descriptions of the female anatomy, floor AND protected sex ( wrap it up pls ), the ending leads straight up to the next story on this universe so be aware of that.
NOTES: hello everyone! after almost a month in the making, here you have it! THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone, although there's some characters and scenarios you can understand better if you read the last three parts (you can find them in my masterlist). this really didn't need to be so lenghty but it turned out that way for some reason (i'm the mayor of yap town). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: september 02 2024.
permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68, @e3ellie, @alsomimi
masterlist.
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Seonghwa is proud to be the type of person who can just tell what's going on after assessing a situation for a few seconds. 
His intuition is something he can rely on and he almost never misses the mark when he makes predictions that he doesn't share with anyone else in case it brings anyone down. 
As he watches San kissing his girlfriend's cheek and then stare at her like a lovestruck idiot, his mouth quirks up a bit and he quickly hides it behind the soda can he's been nursing for the past couple of minutes. 
He's happy it finally happened. 
He's also a little butthurt that he didn't get the chance to fully get to know her first. 
They've been together for a few months now, maybe four if he recalls correctly. Back then, he danced with her at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment like he didn't know one of his closest friends had been in love with her since they both were in highschool. 
He didn't tell anyone, but a part of him did it to see if it would prompt a reaction. And, from what he was told by Wooyoung, it did. 
She is his type of person, though. And when he texted her a few days later and she sent in a non-detailed voice note briefly explaining what went down after they all left the party and she stayed behind to help her drunk best friend, he told her he understood and that he kind of already knew. 
Or at least, he expected it. 
He also explained to San that, although his intentions with his girlfriend (before she was his girlfriend) were mostly genuine, he’s obviously not in love with her. 
After all, they only met that one time and now, back in San and Woo’s shared apartment for what feels like an overdue reunion after months of busy schedules and adult life, he can assure them both with a nod and smile that he is, indeed, happy for them. 
He treasures admiration for those who are able to find love in this modern age, anyway. 
Now there's two couples in the group. Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come. 
That's how he got his job at Room for More. His professor gave him a recommendation letter after finishing the last presentation of his career and suggested he try his luck at his colleague’s company. 
And now he's actually doing what he studied to do and he's loving it. Working in interior design and fighting minimalism while he's at it? 
Incredible. Life could not be better. 
Kind of.
As rare as those types of opportunities are, he truly believes it is way easier to find a niche profession people are actually comfortable with than it is to find love in modern society. 
Life might give you your dream job out of nowhere, but it can also take away the opportunity of finding a partner you can celebrate your success with. 
He never even told his friends when he got the job. Only Hongjoong, who then passed on the word to the rest of the group and, after they all congratulated him for it, they quickly moved on to their tesis and focused on not letting their last year of university eat them up while they were at it. 
Except for Jongho, he very much had a few months left to ignore the unavoidable adulthood period he was about to suddenly enter his senior year. The rest of them, minus Hongjoong, had the right to grasp as much as they could of the freedom of only being weighed down by exams and not by other obligations like rent and bills. 
Wooyoung and San’s lease is being paid by their parents, so they don't really count. 
And Hongjoong lives with his bandmates in a little apartment above the rehearsal space provided by a lovely grandma who treats them all like they are her sons, so he doesn't really count either. 
Seonghwa feels like, in the span of a year, he took a whole step forward while everyone else is still enjoying their youth. Now, he has presentations and meetings with clients he needs to worry about. 
Love is not his top priority, not that it ever was, but now it barely crosses his mind. 
He just wants to stay cool and young for a few more years before giving in completely into feeling like an adult. 
So, naturally, what's the first idea that popped in his mind a few weeks ago when thinking about the inescapable passage of time? 
That he should definitely be a little more irresponsible with his finances. Why not? He's in the perfect period of his life where he's allowed to make a mistake without the fear of eternal judgment by a superior being. 
The superior being happens to be his mother, of course. Who else would it be? The woman could make a God shake in their shiny boots and silence them with a single scowl. 
She's all the way back in his hometown, though and she's really rooting for him to make it big in the city. 
Surely, she wouldn't mind if he bought a motorcycle to help him commute faster to his appointments, right? 
Well, he's about to find out any day now.
Looking out of the window that looks to the street, Seonghwa can see his new acquisition parked and sparkling under the streetlamp and the smile that it brings to his lips it's big enough for Yunho to bump him with his hip and lean against the window sill as well. 
“Who's making you smile like that?” he asks, looking away from Seonghwa and following his line of sight till it reaches the beautiful Bonneville he just got on a great deal with a guy who wanted to get rid of it. 
The auction post said that it was because it looked too vintage and the owner wanted to upgrade to something more ‘modern looking’. 
A fool, he thought. 
Because to him, this bike checks all his marks: it is modern enough that in case he needed to get any parts for it, it wouldn't make him lose his mind in the process. But also, it has that vintage, nostalgic, old film feel and look to it that is just right up his alley. 
He loves it. 
Huh, maybe he did find true love after all. 
And after breaking open his savings, Seonghwa managed to get a hold of it without financially ruining himself. Only a bit. 
He didn't tell any of his friends about it, maybe that's why Yunho whistles after he checks it out. 
“Now who's riding that baby?” 
“Me,” Seonghwa smiles, turning to his friend who, as the response dawns on him, drops his jaw and lets out an amused chuckle “What? That's my bike!” 
“Are you being serious?” 
“Why would I lie to you?” He returns, softly. 
A bit passes and then Yunho turns to everyone else scattered around the living room. 
“Guys, Seonghwa is having an early mid-life crisis and bought a motorcycle!” 
Yeosang gasps “Ain't no way…” 
“Hwa? A motorcycle?” Wooyoung hollers, louder than everyone else “What's next? Tattoos?!” 
Oh, for the love of God. 
Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell anyone until now. Everyone gathers around the window to look at it like children at a zoo and he takes a step back, sitting on the arm on the couch, a subtle smile on his lips. 
The only person that turns to him is San’s girlfriend, smiling proudly like he just won the lottery or something. 
Damn, she really is his type. 
“Are you happy?” She asks and it tugs at his lonely heart strings like crazy. 
He pushes through, nodding and shrugging a bit, dismissing his feelings for the final time. It's not really her, he reminds himself. It's the thought of having someone in his life that treats him the way she treats San. 
“Sure am,” he murmurs “My bank account? Not so much.” 
She laughs and Jongho turns to him at that “Are you an old man with debts now? Noooo,” he pouts “Who am I going to ask for bail money now?” 
Gyuri, Wooyoung's ex-girlfriend who somehow manages to stay friends with him, scoffs “You've never been to jail, kid.” 
“But he's the first person on my emergency contact list for that!” 
And just like that, they all pull away from the window and back into their seats to discuss the reasons why Jongho would end up behind bars. 
Being annoying seems to be winning. 
Seonghwa is glad to take the attention off of him. This way, he can't be caught staring at the way Mingi’s girlfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles her nose against her boyfriend’s neck. This way, the sigh he lets out when he catches San whispering sweet things into his girl’s ear gets lost amidst pointless banter and giggling. 
He shouldn't feel envious. 
But somehow he ended up wearing a green short-sleeve today, so it checks out. 
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“Important client. Wants to renovate their whole space, his apartment and his office.” 
His boss is excited. It makes him smile as he stares at her with his hands behind his back, like he usually does when he receives instructions. 
“He loved your work, I showed him the photo studio you helped with last month and requested you specifically. He said that he feels trapped in a box every time he gets to work and everytime he returns home, so… He wants you to lead the project,” she smiles, tapping her manicured nails against her desk and cocking her head to the side “Congratulations, kid, you got your first big commission coming.” 
“Thank you so much,” he bows, his body bending out of pure gratefulness and instinct “I'll make sure to run everything by you accordingly, boss.” 
“Well, I'm expecting a report in two days.” 
“Two days?” 
“Mhm. He wants to meet with you this afternoon… In four hours, exactly. I already sent you an email with the details,” she gets up from her desk, extending her hand towards him and he rushes to shake it “You're doing the initial assessment today, alone. Everyone else has something going on.” 
Fuck. 
“Of course,” he's worried and anxious, but he makes sure none of it shows as he gives her hand a firmer shake before letting it go “I'll do my initial research in the meantime, then.” 
She nods and dismisses him with her hand. 
He stresses the whole time he looks up the name and company of this new client. It seems like a serious business, not the kind that wants to reject minimalism especially when the nation's professional aesthetic runs on it. 
It’s a modern tech silicon valley run by, what he's able to gather, a very rich family his new client is part of. There's a picture of them, smiling at an event, looking like the nightmare of working class people. 
He tends to keep his opinions on chaebol’s at bay (Yunho is his friend and he’s rich, so he can't really voice what he thinks so freely anyway) but the fact that they contacted his company, an interior design business with barely any recognition amongst their competitors, is both surprising and concerning. 
He clicks an article where his new client is featured. He's the heir of his family's empire, a tech savvy himself and he can tell, from the way they framed his answers, that he is well media-trained. 
Seonghwa has no name for himself. Why would he request him? He's not so sure the ambiance he helped to create in a mere photo studio is what is granting him this opportunity. 
His intuition is telling him, as he clicks for his initial research to print, that there must be an ulterior motive. 
But he's going to embrace the chance of securing his rent money either way. 
He just hopes his hair is presentable enough when he gets there. The helmet he bought is really not helping, the wind that somehow gets into it as he cruises through the streets doesn't help either.
Wanna know what else adds up to his problems today? The engine sounds weird. 
It sounds fucking weird. 
At a red light, Seonghwa lifts up his visor and tries to figure out what the hell is going on as much as he can. 
He's too green for this. Too new to this world. 
Would his mother scold him if she finds out he lied about doing a thorough research about the bike world before investing in one? 
He looks at his watch. He has time to spare, an hour and a half before the meeting takes place. 
Before he can fully make a decision, his body weight is making him turn into a street he doesn't know that well. But he's sure he saw a repair shop on the way to work today. 
Or was it just a body shop? Maybe he imagined it and the sudden panic he feels rising and darkening his cheeks under the visor is convincing him he's right. 
When he sees the floatable mascot waving in the wind, he lets out a sigh of relief. 
Pulling up, he sees a few cars with their hood open and a few new, modern bikes to the side, so he parks a few meters from them and when he turns off the engine and gets down from his -apparently- damaged new acquisition, he feels like he can finally breathe. 
No, scratch that, he takes his helmet off and then he's able to breathe. 
When he scans the place, there's not a soul in sight. 
Until he hears someone humming. It's a song he heard before, he can't quite put it together by the melody but it sounds like something he used to enjoy when he entertained the idea of joining Hongjoong's band all the way back in first semester of college. 
Something with heavy guitars, which kind of fits the place’s vibe. Looking around, he swears to himself he's trying to find the source of the humming.
After all, he doesn't have much time to take in the place.
But he does anyway. 
When he steps deeper into the shop, he feels like he's been teletransported into a decade he never got to experience, into a culture that is not his to experience in the first place. 
It's like a Sons of Anarchy set, something he would see in an indie two thousands movie, maybe. There's a lot of stuff laying around, an organized chaos he guesses he can attribute to the nature of this kind of job. 
But there's also a lot on the walls, aside from the usual tools hanging from it that look worn out there's posters and the Harley Davidson logo plastered at least five times in shirts, hats and jacket applique patches. 
He thinks the walls can be painted a new, muted color instead of the sort-of bright blue and beige they have going on. 
Focus. What the hell. 
Shaking his head, he follows the sound of the voice until he reaches the back of the shop. There's what it looks like an office, maybe a reception? With a door that's wide open and seems to lead to a storage he doesn't need to get in to. 
There, on her knees, he sees the source of the sound: A girl. 
A beautiful, beautiful girl. 
With her hair out of her face and overalls that seem too loose on her frame. 
Is his heart okay? It feels like it stopped beating. 
And then the beating comes back in full blast, goosebumps on his skin reminding him to speak up. Clearing his throat softly, he does. 
“Hello?” 
“Oh, shit,” she drops whatever she's working on, stops writing something down on a notebook that looks like it's about to run out of space “You fucking scared me!” 
“I can… see that. I'm sorry.” 
“Did you float all the way down here? Fucking Christ,” she mumbles something under her breath, getting up from her position and leaning into the desk in a way Seonghwa will probably remember forever. He gulps “What can I help you with, Ghost?” 
She's breathtakingly beautiful and he, who's usually smooth with words and random interactions, stammers out his response “H-hey, yes I… I'm Park Seonghwa,” he starts, smiling a bit “I was hoping there was someone here who can help me with my bike?” 
She looks around and he assumes she's looking for someone until he sees the corner of her lip curving up a bit “As I said, what can I help you with?” 
Did he already fuck this whole thing up? 
“Oh! I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't— I mean that's not what I…” her smirks widens, he suddenly remembers he's running out of time so he gets it together “I just bought a motorcycle and I'm sure the engine is not supposed to sound the way it's sounding so I thought I could use someone taking a look?” He gets out as fast as he can and the stranger claps her hands in a way that makes him take a step back. 
She intimidates him. Just a little bit. 
“First time owner?” She asks but he's sure she already knows. 
Chuckling nervously, Seonghwa nods “What gave it away?” 
“Your gear,” she simply states, getting out from behind the desk and into the garage space, moving swiftly through it like she owns the place. Damn, does she own the place? “You're barely wearing any. I get it, it's stuffy,” she turns over her shoulder to smile at him “It'll grow on you.” 
“More like I'll get used to it, I feel like.” 
“Yeah,” she rounds a car, tapping the hood of it and taking a pause as she scans the front of the place “That's what I said.” 
That's definitely not what she said. 
He's not sure if she's being rude or merely sarcastic, but he shouldn't be enjoying it the way he is. What drags him out of it is the way laughs when she sees his bike “This one?”
Concerning. Danger. Why is she laughing?! 
“Y-yeah.” 
“I don't get to see this type of bike often. Damn, she's beautiful.” 
He smiles, taking down his worries a notch “Yeah, I got a great deal for it. The guy said he wanted something like that instead,” he points at the one right next to his ��Said he wanted something that looked out of Terminator. I didn't have the heart to tell him that they used a Harley Davidson for the movies.” 
“I'm guessing he meant Robocop?” 
“Maybe.”
“What an idiot,” she sighs, inspecting his bike closely “Not you, Park Seonghwa, the guy who sold you this. Key.” 
Key? Oh, right, the key. He tosses it to her and she catches it with expertise. 
“Well, thanks for clarifying that.” 
She laughs again, taking his helmet that's resting on the seat and putting it down on the floor as she straddles the bike “You're welcome,” she starts it, revs the engine a few times and then grimaces in a way that makes Seonghwa’s heart drop to his ass “Okay, Ghost, please tell me you have time to spare today.” 
“I actually don't,” he takes a few steps, worried frown on his face that prompts another sigh from her “I have a very, very important appointment in…” he checks his watch “In an hour that I really, really need to get to and— Is it that bad?” 
“No! No, not at all, I'm just better with cars than with bikes but, uhm… My brother is coming back in around fifteen minutes?” She offers and with the scowl on his face, she seems to backtrack “Listen, Park Seonghwa, why don't you leave your number with me and we can get this fixed by the end of the day. You can come by to pick it up or we can drop it to you early, tomorrow.” 
“Would you? Oh, my God,” he lets out another nervous laugh “That would be amazing, actually.” 
“Yeah, it's probably just the chain tensioner that needs an adjustment. Nothing's wrong with the engine as far as I can tell but that's why I want the guy who specializes in this type of thing to check it out.” 
“Your brother.” 
“Exactly,” she nods, turning it off and getting off as quickly and if Seonghwa was a little less concerned that he might've waisted his money on an expensive motorcycle, he would've noticed the proximity and the way she looks him over  with a curious glint on her eye “So, Park Seonghwa, what's your number?” 
She takes a step to the side and offers him her phone after unlocking it. He reacts to that. 
“Oh, yeah, sure.” 
He doesn't notice the big smile she offers him either. He doesn't have time. He enters the digits fast and checks over them two times before saving the contact information and returning the phone. 
Checking his watch once again, he curses under his breath and looks at his baby with desperation, begging, praying that he doesn't have to spend a fortune on it. 
“I really have to go.” 
“I can see that,” she returns his words from before, smiling and leaning to rest her weight on the hood of the car she tapped earlier “Good luck with your, uh…” she looks him over one more than and this time he notices it, blushing like a teenager for some reason because of it “Business meeting?” 
The crossbody bag he's wearing probably gave him away, huh? 
“Yeah, yes. Thank you so much for all your help… Ian?” He reads the nametag on her overall and immediately thinks it is an unconventional name for a girl, but doesn't add anything about it “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 
“I get it, you're grateful, now leave.” He catches on that she's pretending like his presence bothers her so he can hurry, which he's actually grateful for. 
It occurs to him that he could stare at her forever like an idiot if she didn't. 
“Okay, bye. Please tell me if I have to, uh, rob a bank or something to cover the cost.” 
She laughs again and it sounds pretty this time. 
What the fuck. 
“Sure,” she nods and he takes a few steps backwards until he's about to turn and then he hears her voice again, so he doesn't but he keeps walking “It's Y/N, by the way.” 
“Huh?” 
“My name is Y/N, Ian is my brother.” 
His heart beats loudly and he can't help but smile as wide as he possibly can “Ah, that makes more sense.”
“Goodbye, Park Seonghwa!” 
He finally turns and then screams back “Goodbye, Y/N!” as he's hurrying to raise his hand and call on a taxi who just passed the entrance like divine intervention, placed perfectly just for him. 
He misses the sudden blush on your cheeks because he's already in the cab by the time you reach the garage’s door to glance at the beautiful man one last time.
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Seonghwa is right on time. With a few minutes to spare, actually. 
The building looks even more modernized than in pictures. He can even see some workers remodeling an office he passes on the way to the… third? Main desk he has to go to. 
It's a very big company and he can see the silicon valley aspect of it all once he notices the few different uniforms everyone is wearing. It seems like the building is one big, creative space and he likes it, but it does feel a little cold in a sense. 
“I'm looking for Mr. Kim? I have an appointment in… five minutes with him, I was sent from—”
“Room for More. Park Seonghwa is here.” The lady at the reception doesn't spare him a glance as she talks through her headset and he has to blink a few times, bowing briefly when she points towards the elevator to his right “Floor sixteen, the only big office on the floor.” 
“Thank you—” 
“Next!” 
Turning back, he sees there's some people lined up behind him and he quickly moves out of the way and towards the elevator that drops him, two minutes later, into the sixteenth floor. 
As he walks towards the big doors at the end of the hall, he feels so out of place his armpits start sweating even though it is a cold day and the heating is barely on. 
There's a few cubicles, glass separating them from the hall and, in consequence, forcing him to glance a few times out of curiosity. The uniforms and creativity that he saw downstairs is lost and all he can see is the nightmare he had once, when he thought he would end up working in a similar space: men in suits and women in pencil skirts typing away and printing reports he is never going to understand. 
Maybe that's why he's a bit surprised when he gets to Mr. Kim’s office and he's waiting by the door with a kind of ironed three piece suit and a few hairs out of place, toothy grin and open arms. 
“Mr. Park Seonghwa, thank you so much for taking the job!” 
He moves in to give him a brief hug he doesn't really get to reciprocate before he's moving away and into his office. 
“It's, um, a pleasure,” he stammers out, following him “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Kim— Wow.” 
“I know, I know,” his client sighs as he takes a box and throws it to the side of his desk. The space is a mess and both of them grimace at the sound of something breaking inside the cardboard “This is why I recruited you. I tried to do something myself and ended up with… Whatever this is.” 
Looking around, Seonghwa is able to see what he means. The walls are mismatched and there's an unfinished design on the one to his left. Someone started painting a tree and gave up after sketching out a few branches. 
“And please call me Soohyun. Everyone here already calls me Mr. Kim and it makes me feel like my father,” he adds, sitting down on his desk chair and pointing to the one in front of it “That's my sister’s work. She tried to help me but broke one of her nails trying to get the cap off a painting tube so… She left me with this mess.” 
Seonghwa smiles, sitting down in front of him and getting his sketchbook out of his bag. Seemingly excited, his client rests his arms on the desk and grins at him, expectantly. 
He seems a little childish, not like the guy he studied earlier today. He looks younger than what he actually is like this, in a space that mimics what Seonghwa picks up like impatience and boredom, maybe the desire of breaking free of a corporate jail. 
Now, he understands why he contacted Room for More. 
“So, Soohyun… What do you want me to do for this space?” 
He spends the rest of the day in the middle of the mess, getting to know Soohyun’s vision and learning about the company as he helps to pile up the boxes laying around and drawing different ideas down. When he tries to talk about a possible budget, the man silences him and tells him not to worry about it. 
The pretty girl he met earlier crosses his mind one time, when Soohyun asks him if he can stay later than anticipated to give him an excuse to get out of what he says it's about to be a very boring and pointless meeting. 
Her image, your image makes him smile and he wonders, for a second, what the hell are you doing with his bike. 
And if he gets to see you again. 
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Your brother comes back like a whole two hours later, so you're grateful you didn't push your new client to waste fifteen minutes of his, apparently, very busy day. 
“He said he got a great deal for it?” you nod “This one is not even that old, I'm sure they still make them!” 
You shrug and your brother sighs.
“Maybe he got scammed.” 
“I didn't ask but I think it started making that noise today because he seemed… alarmed,” you tell him and Christian pushes his hair back before taking the key out of your open palm “He didn't stay because he had a business appointment or something. He looked very laid-back, though, not rich at all, so don't you dare overcharge him for this.” 
“Oh, so you liked him.” 
Rolling your eyes, you turn to open the hood of the car you're supposed to be working on instead of giving away information he should've listened to if he didn't tend to walk out mid-shift “Yeah, we're actually getting married next week.” 
“Well, that means I can dispute getting the whole garage once dad goes away.” 
You let out a groan but you smile a little as you try and remember where you left off last night. 
“The only way he can go away is if he's dead, Christian,” you remind him “And he's going to outlive both of us.” 
“Of course he is.” 
You're not sure if your dad has a will at all. You're not his real children after all, so If he does you're not sure you're included either. 
It's not hard to tell you're adopted, but you've known Christian since before it was decided you two would share a family and even a last name. 
You grew up together, the adoption home treated both of you decently enough so you two never struggled as much but the children your age were a different story entirely. They used to tug at your hair and push you to the ground during group activities and the only one who was brave enough to make them stop was Christian.  
So, when your dad showed up at the adoption home and picked him out of the hundred children, he told him he didn't want to go anywhere without you. 
Sure enough, your dad took one look at your frightened little face, hiding behind Christian like a coward, and filled out the paperwork twenty minutes later. 
You remember gaping at the director, waiting for him to do something about this six feet tattooed guy in his late thirties wanting to take you both away from the only home you ever knew, but you're grateful the system didn't give two craps about children back in the day. 
Not that it gives a crap about them now, but at least they're a little more careful with just handing out kids like that. 
Because it could've gone terribly wrong. You were sure, at eight years old, your hand grasping the seatbelt on the back seat of your new dad’s car, that it was about to go terribly wrong. 
But he turned out to be nothing but a kind, hardworking (with an amazing credit score, no criminal record and steady income), widowed man who was looking to fulfill his late wife’s dreams of having a family and someone to leave their business to. 
After all, she was the one who built the shop from the ground up. You desperately needed to know more of her and your dad made sure to let you know how amazing she was in every aspect. 
She became someone you looked up to, even if you never really knew her, maybe that's why you ended up working at the shop as well. 
And yet, you still don't think it belongs to you. Ian is the one your dad wanted to begin with, you're just an added bonus. 
You're not sure you want it, either. 
But there's not much you know outside of it. Your time in school was great, no one bullied you anymore and the tough skin you developed out of nowhere cushioned the typical jokes that kids and teenagers are apparently programmed to make. 
You never made fun of anyone with ill intentions, so you're not sure how true that statement is. 
Either way, you kind of know where they were coming from. You weren't particularly exceptional at any subject but you never got in trouble for anything either, so you just kind of floated in everyone's orbit until you graduated, never belonging to any specific group of people or participating on any extracurriculars to help you maintain your barely there friendships after graduation. 
This shop is truly all you got. And the family that comes with it, of course.
Your dad coughing in the back and the sound reaching your ears even when the sound of Park Seonghwa's damaged motorcycle is right next to you, reminds you that the spending every second of your teenage years and early adult life learning all you could about how to fix a car was worth it. 
“Fucking chain tensioners.”
Smiling, you turn your head to your brother and he's already working on it “So it was the chain tensioner?” 
“Yeah,” he wipes the sweat off his forehead “it's always the fucking chain tensioner with these things.” 
You don't tell him you already knew that. 
“So you could get it fixed today?” 
“Yeah, yeah. He said he's coming back tonight?” 
“Oh, I kind of suggested dropping it off tomorrow so I'm not sure…”
“Y/N!” he scolds immediately and all you can give him in return is an innocent smile “I'm not dropping off shit tomorrow.” 
Turning back to the car, your smile grows into a cheeky one. 
“I never said you would do it.” 
He scoffs “If this is your way of flirting with people, I can see why you never got far with anyone befo— What the fuck?” 
Jaw slack, holding the greasy towel you sent flying into his direction a second ago, he throws it back and it lands by your feet. 
“Did I lie?” 
“Stop being an ass or the next thing I'm throwing your way are my bedazzled pliers.” 
Your dad’s voice behind you puts a stop into the petty and pointless bickering “Well, don't, I worked hard on those,” you smile at him and Ian all but sulks before returning to the task at hand “I expect you both to be done on whatever you're working tomorrow, by eight. We have dinner with the Lee’s.” 
Ah, dinner with your dad’s closest friends. Usual Tuesday shenanigans, of course, but it doesn't stop the nervous bubbling inside of you. 
You pray Deokhee can't make it (he rarely shows up) but you mutter out an okay in response even if you don't feel like going anyway. 
Nodding, he quickly looks over on what you're both doing before disappearing into the back of the shop again. You look down at your toolbox and find the bedazzled pliers your dad gave you as a part of your fourteen birthday gift with a tiny, grateful smile. 
The eternal loop of working in the same usual five, fixable problems on the cars that people drop off at the shop sets in afterwards. And, for the rest of the afternoon, you keep stealing glances at the Bonneville and wondering what type of man its owner is. 
You've always been drawn to pretty faces, even if it costed you your sanity only a few years back. Not that Christian or your dad or anyone else knew about it. 
The little secrets you keep give you some sense of identity, it sets you apart from the oil changes and calluses on your hands and they remind you of the brief aspirations you once had outside of all of this. 
When you dreamed of belonging to someone else and not just this family business, someone who you thought used to get you before he shattered your heart into a million pieces.
Deokhee thought cheating would not affect you.
Why? Oh, maybe because your edges were worn and rough and you've been through worse stuff before. 
What's worse that getting abandoned and picked out as an afterthought later in life?
Being abandoned and treated like an afterthought by the guy you wasted your teen years obsessing over, probably. 
Nothing breaks like a heart or whatever the song says. 
And, to his advantage, he knew you'd keep calm and collected and accepting of his ways because he never promised you the life you imagined for the both of you, even after giving yourself to him multiple times. 
Even after he told you how amazing you were. 
Even after he whispered how lucky he was to have you, hushed and hurried at the backdoor of his house that last time before he broke it off. 
Before he told you he found someone else. 
So you know wondering is a bad idea. You should not wonder about a client, at that. How unprofessional of you, how immature. 
But there was a spark this afternoon you never felt with anyone else. He was brave enough to joke around, even when you did try your best to intimidate him and lost tragically at one glimpse of his pretty smile. 
What's so wrong in indulging in a fantasy no one will ever know about? Heavens know you need one to keep you from smashing the wrench on the windshield of this old, ungrateful, misbehaving Chevrolet that's proving to be more difficult than any other car you've ever worked on before. 
It's only at ten after seven that you're allowed to think about Park Seonghwa without the guilt brought on by delusion. 
“There, fixed,” your brother says and, after starting the bike again, the noise is gone “Call your future husband and tell him to pick it up, I want to meet him.” 
Huffing, you reach for your phone and look at the recently added contact before shaking your head. 
Indulging in a fantasy it's fine, as long as you keep it to yourself. 
You get a chance to prove yourself wrong if you allow yourself to see him again. 
“Not a chance in hell.”
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Couple of minutes pass and you fidget the whole time. You're hoping for a yes, so it can all die down tonight. Seonghwa’s lack of transportation and your fantasy included.
He doesn't respond the way you need him to. 
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You hate that it makes you smile a bit. 
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You glance at your brother and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Would it be nice to not go wherever he is and have time to actually get ready for dinner tomorrow? Yes. 
Do you want Christian to meet Seonghwa? No. That meeting would solidify everything else as a reality, it would pull you out of your little fantasy and you don't want that. 
You want to keep it (Seonghwa) to yourself for a while longer. 
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You shouldn't be flirting, you really shouldn't. 
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His flirting back puts you in a dangerous zone, a territory you desperately want to explore but can't. Shouldn't. 
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Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed? 
Probably. 
But you do anyway. 
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When Seonghwa is finally walked downstairs by his new client, he's promised a meal by Hongjoong, only if he buys some beer on the way to his apartment. 
His roommates are apparently out and he didn't feel like going, although he didn't explain why. And when he gets there, Yeosang is also splayed out on the couch and with his laptop on his belly. 
“Hwa’s here!” 
“Oh, man, finally,” Hongjoong walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his neck “The takeout is getting cold. Come on!” 
He seems… Off. 
Seonghwa eyes Yeosang for an answer but the youngest just shrugs and sits straight on the couch as he closes his laptop. 
“Is everything alrig—” 
“I'll explain it to you when the time is right. Something's up with the band but it's nothing we can't fix.” 
“Okay…” Seonghwa sits down on the tiny table that somehow fits the three of them, the beers and the takeout with a tiny smile, knowing not to intervene until he's told to. 
Eating with his friends is like second nature to him. Everytime it happens, it's like a family dinner and everyone knows what to do and what to serve to everyone so, soon enough, they all have their chopsticks helping them get food into their mouths while they talk about their day. 
Seonghwa is nodding along, not sharing a lot because, well, work is work and he just tells them how excited he is for the new project and what he's planning on doing, he even shows them the mockups and drawings he spent the whole afternoon making, gaining supportive praise for it a second later. 
Yeosang looks up from his meal to him “So it's like a lot of little companies inside one company?” 
“Sort of,” Seonghwa smiles “I don't really get it, either, but that's okay. It doesn't seem like I have to get the concept of the company to plan this whole thing out, only what my client wants and that's… Very different from the company image.” 
He plans on saying something else but all train of thought gets interrupted when his phone dings right besides him. 
And he almost spills his beer on his pretty mockups trying to get to it fast enough. 
Only to end up disappointed, because it's not you but a discount notification from the food app he normally uses when he has the money to order in.  
It had to show up in his face, because what he hears next has the color draining from it “Oh?” 
Oh, God. 
It's like Wooyoung's spirit possessing Hongjoong, he sees it happen in real time and the wicked smile his friend sends in his direction is enough to know where it's all going. 
Yeosang sighs and eyes him with a tiny smile that says I'm on your side, but not really. 
“Hwa… The motorcycle, the looking at your phone waiting for something or someone… Are you seeing anyone?” 
“He obviously is!” 
“Yeosang! Stop feeding his delusions!” 
“So?” Hongjoong places his beer down, cocking his head to the side inquisitively and eyeing him up and down, like he can figure something out that way “Are you?” 
“No! I just… I met this girl today and—” 
“At the company?” 
“No! No, uh… My bike broke down and—” 
“Already?!” 
“Let him talk, hyung!” 
Letting out a sigh, Hongjoong sets hips lips into an straight line that makes Seonghwa huff out a chuckle of disbelief “Thanks, Yeo. Anyway, my bike had a weird sound this morning and I took it to a shop, so the girl who's… In charge?” he frowns a little, because he's still not sure “Of the shop sent me a text a while ago saying that it's fixed, I was just checking if she sent anything else.” 
“And you like her.”
It's more than that, really. He can't even explain it, the smile tugging at his lips a dead giveaway of the whirlwind going inside his head at the thought of you. 
“Ye— No! No, I don't even know her.” 
He shouldn't feel so flustered, really, but the things he felt while looking at you earlier were weird and confusing and he needs to think straight before he lets it consume him. 
It felt a little too freeing for his liking. 
Free from what? He's not really able to pinpoint it. But it looks like he's going to have to. 
The way his friends are staring at him like they know something he doesn't it's annoying, but telling. 
“Okay, maybe I do like her a little.” 
Yeosang hums “Like her, like her or just… You know.” 
“I'm not sure…” 
“Well, figure it out!” Hongjoong is excited, almost jumping in his chair at the prospect of Seonghwa getting with someone “You have her number, ask her to… Meet you somewhere or whatever people do when they like someone.” 
“Ask her on a date, hyung. That's what this idiot is trying to say.” 
“Hey!” 
Seonghwa closes his eyes because he can't believe his friends are entertaining the idea, feeding the growing feeling inside his chest “I just met her today, though.” 
“And?” Hongjoong bites a piece of meat and shrugs, dismissively “Timing is never off when you like someone. Do something about it because I swear if I have to hear anyone else complaining about not getting with the girl they like because of timing I'll—” 
“Wait, who complained?” 
The table falls quiet as Seonghwa looks between his friends to find an answer but Yeosang just shakes his head and he gets it.
Not the time to talk about it. 
Hongjoong points at him with his chopsticks, threatenly “Do. Something. About. It. Anyway!” He gets up from his seat, points at Yeosang this time “Guess who almost got kicked out of college for messing around with the wrong crowd today?” 
“That's not what happened!” 
And Seonghwa swears he's focusing on the story Hongjoong is so eager to tell, on Yeosang’s ears turning pink at the mention of a girl he's never heard before, too. 
But all he can think about is you. 
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The next day, after briefly stopping by his office, Seonghwa is back with a few coworkers who help with measurements and put their input in the assessment. He spends all day with it, too and, once again, serves as an excuse for Soohyun to get out of some meetings he's not interested in attending. 
As the day passes, he wonders how Soohyun maintains the important position he's in. Nepotism can't do everything for you, right? 
Right? 
But his new client seems down to earth enough to be aware of his advantages in an industry that's quick and cruel and doesn't hold too much space for laziness. 
So he lets it go because, well, he tends to judge but he can't really do much for people who actually deserve to be in charge. 
It's close to seven and Soohyun bidded him goodbye only a few minutes ago, saying sorry he can't walk him out because, at this time, he actually has an international call to make that can't be excused like the rest of his afternoon schedule. 
Seonghwa doesn't make it out of the office before getting stopped by a manicured hand to his chest. 
After the texts last night and Hongjoong's threats, he was practically ready to sprint downstairs to meet you (or whoever you sent) and get his bike back, maybe apologize for panicking and sending a whole ass sticker as a response instead of keeping the conversation going. 
And to see you again. God, he wants to break his Bonneville one more time just to get to see your pretty face again. 
He already idealized you in his head, which is bad and very amateur on his side, but no one needs to know that. 
But now he might have to keep all of that waiting for a few more minutes because there's someone staring at him like just committed a crime. A crime he's unaware of. 
“Who are you?” 
Her scowl tells him she's trying to get a read on him and he thinks he's transparent enough for it to be easy. If he really thinks about it, though, it looks like she wants to scare him a little bit. 
It doesn't work. 
“Um, Park Seonghwa,” he says and then points over his shoulder, to Soohyun’s office “I’m working on renovating Mr. Kim’s office?” 
“Oh, for fucks sake. Why can't no one in this family keep normal people around?” She peeks through his shoulder, the high heels she's wearing helping her with the task. Groaning, she turns around and starts heading for the elevator, mumbling something under her breath. 
The only thing he can make out of it it's something about supermodels and a it's not fair. 
She turns around briefly to look at him again and scoffs, clearly annoyed. 
“I feel like I know your face from somewhere else.” 
Seonghwa feels a little lost, but steps into the elevator when she does. Now he's afraid, maybe she's a crazy person but then it clicks. 
Clearly, he knows her from somewhere else too. 
“I'm sure the only place I've seen you before is on the news, Miss Kim,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit and hitting the main floor button on the panel “That's a nice tree, by the way.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“The one on Mr. Kim’s office?” he offers, turning to her “He told me his sister painted it and as far as I know, he only has one sister.” 
That brings a smile to her face and Seonghwa counts it as a small victory, for some reason. 
“Ah, so you did your research,” she nods “Please scrape it off the wall if needed. It made me bleed.” 
“He omitted that part.” 
“Of course he did, it was his fault. Anyway,” she shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator and walking ahead without waiting for him. She looks like the type of person who knows everyone else will follow and he does, but only out of curiosity “my brother has your number, yes, Mr. Park?” 
“I'm assuming he does or, at least, my company's numb—” 
“I'm not interested in your company, I'm interested in you.” 
She's also very forward. How could he not guess that from the way she carries herself around? 
“I don't usually do freelance work, Miss Kim.” 
As they both reach the main entrance, she turns around gracefully and with a, for what he can tell, very rehearsed smile tugging at her lips. 
“I'm not interested in your work either, Mr. Park.” 
That, he did guess, but it's disappointing either way. 
“Then what good am I to you?” 
Her grin widens “You'll see.” 
The sound of his Bonneville pulling up it's what gets him to turn away from the mischievous glint in the chaebol's eyes. 
And when he sees you take off a helmet that's not his and wave your hand at him, she blends into the background completely. 
You look good, hair down and probably freshly showered because there's a few droplets falling down from the ends of it to your shirt and leather jacket. Your hands are gloved up and all, like you've been riding bikes your whole life. 
He wonders if that's the case. God, he wants to get to know you so bad. 
“Oh God, not another one, I— Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Park?” 
His head snaps back, eyes wide and cheeks turning pink “N-no, I just met her yesterday, she… That's my bike, I had to get it fixed.” 
Pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth for a second, she nods and then takes two long strides into the direction of a car he didn't see until now “Perfect, then. She looks pretty cool,” she waves at you and he doesn't get to see if you wave back, too focused on getting the color out of his cheeks “Tell her I said that. Goodbye for now, Mr. Park.” 
Seonghwa wants to ask a million questions. What does she want? What does she mean goodbye for now? But he doesn't get to. She gets into the car and drives off and that leaves space for you to drive his bike again and pull up right in front of him this time. 
“Hope I didn't interrupt anything there, Ghost.”
A nervous chuckle abandons him and he manages to shake his head “No, no, she's… my client’s sister?” He offers and you smile, turning off the bike and getting off a second later “She said you're, um, cool.”
“And why would she say that?” 
“Because you look cool? I don't really know, don't question me,” he's sure the efforts he put on making the blush disappear were pointless, cheeks burning when you laugh at him “Thank you, Y/N.” 
“Don't thank me, Seonghwa, I didn't tell you how much it'll cost you yet.” 
He gulps. 
You take mercy on him and the way his eyes glisten with worry, laughing again “It's not too bad. It was the chain tensioner and my brother worked on it pretty fast, don't worry.” 
Relaxing, he takes his helmet and key off your offering hands with a tiny smile, touch lingering on your skin for a second too long “Did you enjoy seeing me suffer just now?” 
“A little bit,” you shrug and mutter your apologies although he can tell you're not sorry at all “I'll text you the invoice with the account you can send the money to?” 
No. 
He wants to say no and make you go with him to an ATM so he can pay in cash just to keep you around for a while longer, he doesn't want this interaction to be over. 
And he's usually very good at communicating things of this nature but something about you makes him giddy and nervous and his charisma is not able to keep up. 
It dawns on him that it's very weird to want to keep a stranger, someone he only met a day ago, in his life for as long as possible. 
Do you feel the same way? He wants you to feel the same way.
The unexpected desire sits on his chest heavily, making him take in a breath more shakily than he intended to. 
“Sure,” the words taste bitter on his tongue, his tone gives away that he doesn't really mean it and then said desire takes over, making him stammer the next words out “Do you want me to take you somewhere?” 
Surprised, you blink a few times and then look down at your own helmet for a second. He feels like he screwed up by asking you that. 
Of course, you don't feel the same way. Of course, you must have someone waiting for you already. 
Of course, of course, of fucking course. 
But just before he can backpedal on his offer, you're looking up, your mind made up and the same teasing smile you've been wearing ever since he saw you yesterday “It won't save you from the debt I'm about to put you through with that invoice but sure.” 
Seonghwa lets out a huff and chuckle all in the same breath, straddling his bike a second later “Ha, ha. Count it as a tip, Y/N.”
“Oh, I'm so telling my brother that,” you beam when he returns the joke and he moves a little, making space for you at the back “Somehow, I don't feel safe with you riding this bike, Ghost.” 
He ignites it and the whole thing shakes a bit before you can even put on the helmet, so he can't really refute that. 
“Do you want to ride it?” 
It's a second too late when he realizes the double meaning behind his own words, unintended, but there they are floating on the air around you both, electric and maybe one sided. 
But you don't back down, taking a step into his space and crowding him, almost towering over him even if he's on the bike and even if that makes him taller than you. It feels that way, so he welcomes the sensation and the pang of his heart against his chest when you lean in just a little. 
“Do you want me to ride it?” 
Breath caught in his throat, Seonghwa takes in your smirk as a sign that, maybe, it's not one sided at all. 
“The bike,” you clarify a second later, like it's necessary “It would be easier to get us to where I need to go, anyways.” 
Planting his feet on the ground, he keeps the Bonneville stable enough to slide back to the space he created for you a minute ago, and if you can feel his heart beating with an unfamiliar, yet exciting song when you take a seat, put your helmet on and press your back against his chest, you sure cover it up when you turn to look at him. 
“Does your fancy job provide you health insurance?” 
He lets out an amused huff “Yours doesn't?” 
“I never asked,” you shrug, taking the handles and looking forward again, leaning in slightly so now he's not that close to you but he feels you everywhere still “Just making sure in case I break you.” 
When you start driving him, handling the Bonneville in a way he never would even with the years of experience ahead of him, he wants to tell you that he wouldn't mind that. 
In fact, he finds himself wanting it. 
As he holds tight to your waist, he finds himself on the verge of telling you to break him apart piece by piece so he can do the same with you. Explore you, not physically, but in the way it truly matters. 
He wants to know your soul, he wants to understand the reason he feels attached to you after a brief meeting and little more. 
You lean back to rest your back a little at a stop sign and he suddenly doesn't care if the way he squishes your waist for a few seconds gives his intentions away. He has your number, he's going to make a move eventually. 
What he does care about is the way you don't tense up and just lean into his body a little more before resuming the task of getting both of you wherever you're going
This? The way he feels so free as you move through the highway, make your way in between the cars at stop signs and the wind hitting his arms? This is the grasp at his youth he's been waiting for. Even if it's just for the night. 
Even if it's over too soon for his liking. 
You stop in front of a house that looks empty. He wonders if it's yours for a second, but then again he's going to find out any minute soon. 
“That wasn't too bad, was it?” 
Getting down from his Bonneville, you take your helmet off and offer him your hand. He slides up his helmet so you can see his face, about to reply, but you beat him to it “Thank you so much for the ride that I technically gave myself, Park Seonghwa, it was a pleasure to meet you.” 
Why are you saying goodbye like you're not planning on seeing him ever again? 
Suddenly, he's planning on ways to mess up his bike again just to get an excuse to see you again. 
No. 
He has to be braver than that. 
Taking your hand, he pulls you in a little bit and you let out a surprised noise that looks like it embarrasses you. 
Your cheeks turn red under the streetlight and he thinks you look beautiful like that. 
“Y/N,” he starts in a whisper, gathering his courage up “Would you like to—” 
“Y/N.” A voice interrupts him and your eyes widen in panic while you look at him, slowly turning your head to the person as he does the same. 
Not before he notices how the pretty blush and all colors drain from your face. 
A guy, with blonde shaggy hair and tattoos covering his neck and hands is standing on the sidewalk with a grocery store bag and a weird look on his face. Beside him, a girl who’s smile fades away when she seems to recognize you scoffs. 
The guy smiles and Seonghwa wonders why you don't say anything back, your grasp on his hand tightening before letting go. 
“There you are, your dad said—” 
“Ghost?” 
Seonghwa doesn't like the way your voice shakes when you say the nickname he's grown used to in such a short amount of time. 
“Yes?” 
You don't bother putting the helmet back on, simply dropping it to the ground and turning back at him “I trust you to ride this bike now, yeah?” 
He doesn't have to be told twice. Making space for you again, you hop on and hug his waste. He slides his helmet back on. 
The guy takes a few steps but Seonghwa stops him with the sound of him revving his Bonneville “Come on, Y/N…” Is what he says when he starts to drive off, accelerating just a little bit before the houses start fading and the busy highway welcomes you both. 
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Deokhee has some nerve. 
The fact that he does boils your bloodstream and you wish you could say that the warm sensation spreading through your body is caused by the guy who you're currently holding to. 
Seonghwa has checked in with you once and, after confirming you were okay to keep going, he has held your gloved hands at every red light and stop sign. 
You have no idea where you're going, but you're sure you can't go home and deal with this alone for now. He can't take you home, either (he doesn't know the address) but even if he could, you wouldn't let him. 
The nameless girl that was with Deokhee is the same girl he cheated with. A girl who, by judging her expression, probably knew about you. 
Mind going as fast as the Boneville, you ask yourself how many times she made fun of you for grasping a fantasy, a make-believe story with her now boyfriend. 
What did you lack that she obviously has? What prompted him to hurt you this badly? 
Is he stupid enough to not realize that the sight of them together would tear you apart all over again? 
The scene replays in your head again, after all these years of trying to get over it: Him, holding your hand and telling you how amazing you were to him but that, in all honesty, he didn't see himself going out with someone like you. 
You were too much, too proud, too loud. 
Which doesn't make any fucking sense because although you never held back a jab or a sarcastic comment if needed, you knew the time and place to speak your mind. 
It also didn't make any fucking sense because he knew you would keep his little secret from your father and your brother and, in consequence, keep the relationship you both had and the cowardly way it ended from his family as well. 
You were too much, composed of many flaws and adorned with rough and burnt edges, but you would never in a million years tarnish the happiness of the people who love you because of a rookie mistake. 
Falling in love with Deokhee was a rookie, horrible mistake. 
Falling in love in general? You doubt it. 
Because the way Seonghwa takes his time to slow down the bike on a lookout you were too distracted to notice you were climbing up to, pulls it to a full stop and then immediately reaches for your hands again, makes you believe there's good people out there after all. 
He took you away without asking any questions and you're suddenly welcomed with the same grateful feeling you have towards your family. 
Had you stayed there, you're not so sure you would've kept your words to yourself anymore. Your pain, your anger. 
Getting down from the bike, Seonghwa takes his helmet off and drops it in front of you, on the seat, before leaning in a searching for your glossy eyes. 
You can see him hesitate through the fog your tears form and you don't let them drop just yet. You're angry, but there's no way you would let Deokhee make you cry again in this lifetime. 
You should get down from the bike, but it doesn't move under your weight even if you readjust your position on the seat and you fear that, if you do, you would only plop down into the ground and let it swallow you whole. 
You should say something, too. Thank him, probably, but the tall man lets out a breath before opening his arms and pointing at the view. Gladly, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“Didn't know where else to take you, so I brought you to my breaking point.” 
“Hm?” frowning a bit, you peel your eyes from the city lights to him “Your breaking point?”
“Yeah, that's what I call it,” he smiles and you do too, halfheartedly “Here's where I come to break down and let everything out. There's a playground back there too,” he points behind him and you scoff, amused “If you want to climb up somewhere and scream. The neighbors don't mind it.” 
“I take that as a I've done it before.” 
“Once or twice,” he shrugs “It's good for the soul.” 
“God,” you cover your face with your hands “I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that.” 
“Like what? You didn't do anything.” 
“Running away and acting all weak in front of…” you fake gag, but it's kind of real “Some guy.” 
A bit of silence passes in between you and your savior. 
And then Seonghwa laughs so hard you're forced to uncover your face and stare at him in disbelief “I'm serious! That's like… top one most embarrassing thing I've ever done.” 
His laugh comes to a stop and he doesn't step closer even if you want him to, just puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and looks at you for what it feels like forever. 
You don't mind it one bit. 
“I've known you for a day, Y/N, but even I can tell that's not the most embarrassing thing you've done.” 
Sulking, you turn to the beautiful view one more time and pout like a child. You want to tell him he's right, but your pride doesn't really allow it just yet. 
It's quiet for a minute or two. You move around, throw your leg over the Boneville and sit on top of it as you stare at the city. You feel Seonghwa move around, pace behind you until he finally reaches around takes a few steps before stopping on the railing separating the street from the hill. 
He's looking in your direction instead of the view. You realize he's giving you space to sulk, to take in everything without pestering you with questions about why the hell you both just bolted instead of facing the situation. 
Your gratitude towards him rises a bit more. 
So your word vomit is justified, you think, because you don't want to leave him in the dark any longer. 
The fantasy you indulged yourself in earlier might just grow into a reality you have to embrace, a reality you want to embrace. 
“He's my ex-something and the girl he was with is the one he chose over me. I was supposed to have dinner with them— Well, no, not really,” you sigh, looking at Seonghwa who, in the deem light, just nods and waits for you to continue “He's my dad’s best friend's son and we have dinner with them every Tuesday. Their family, I mean. Deokhee… He never shows up,” you shrug “And when he does, he's alone and it's towards the end of it all so I never get to see him that long. But this?” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “I never thought he would do this to me.”
Finally getting off the bike, you walk slowly towards the railing as well and feel Seonghwa's eyes follow you as you do “He cheated on me with her, for Christ sake.” You whisper once the metal of the railing stops your step. 
“How long ago?” 
“Does it matter?” 
“No,” from the corner of your eye, you see how he shakes his head and leans in slightly “I'm wondering because if I was your dad or your brother or your friend, I would've done something to, at least, ensure something like this never happens to you.” 
“Yeah, about that…” A bitter chuckle abandons you and you shrug one more time “They don't really know what happened between us— They don't know something happened in the first place,” ashamed, once again, you turn to him “He asked me to not tell anyone when we started… Ack, whatever, it doesn't really matter.” 
“It does if it's affecting you,” he insists “It does if you go pale at the sight of him, Y/N. Did he do—” 
“No,” you cut him off, the corners of your lips lifting a bit “He didn't do anything weird besides breaking my heart.” 
“Good.” 
“I would've killed him if he did, by the way.” 
“As you should,” he returns right away and finally, for the first time in the twenty minutes it took both of you to get there, you laugh sincerely. That prompts a smile on his lips “Good to know he's an idiot but not that type of idiot.” 
Huffing, you turn to the city before you again “The only idiot in this situation is me.” 
“For loving someone? Y/N,” his hand reaches your shoulder and you close your eyes in defeat, surrendering your heart to the weird emotion it brings you “He cheated on you. He's the idiot, the dumbass, the—” 
Laughing again, his rant comes to an end and you open your eyes to find him staring at you in delight “Park Seonghwa,” you start, putting a hand over his on your shoulder “You, sir, don't know me.” 
The reminder does nothing to stop him from looking at you with stars in his eyes “I'm a great judge of character, Y/N.” 
“And if you're wrong?” 
“Then let me be wrong,” he shortens the distance a bit, the warmth on your shoulder leaving as he lowers both of your hands, not letting go “But let me get to know you first.” 
The emotion grows bigger, it swirls around your heart and spreads around your body in a way you never felt. It feels good and you hate to compare it to what you felt for Deokhee but where it once was filled with regrets and doubts and a need to hold on tight to whatever that guy made you feel now sits something that you can only describe as excitement and thrill. 
Peaceful, too. 
It steals your breath in a beautiful way. 
Squeezing his hand a little, you inhale slowly and let go of the air when you speak “I don't really do dates, Ghost.” 
“I didn't ask you on a date,” he counters immediately and your cheeks darken “I asked if I could get to know you. We don't have to go on dates, talking to you is enough.” 
“O-oh, I… I thought—” 
He seems to get it right away because he takes another step, your arm pressed to his by now, your hands still tangled in the middle “I one hundred percent meant it that way,” he assures you, chuckling a bit “But I don't really do dates either. Asking you out to a restaurant or a movie or whatever it is people do on dates doesn't really suit me.” 
“How so?” 
“There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” Your heart picks up at that. Not at the image it paints, but at his explanation as a whole. 
It shows he might be interested in you beyond something physical and it's a beautiful thing to note when, all your life, you have felt like people only wanted you for one thing and one thing only. 
You intend to tell him just that but the way he's looking at you makes you forget everything else. Brown eyes scan every inch of your face and stop at your lips for a second. 
Now your heart beats for a different reason. 
“No matter… How bad I want to kiss you, though.” 
Words fall short. They do when for the first time in a long time you entertain the possibility of letting yourself want to kiss someone else, too. 
Leaning in and straightening your back fully to give you the possibility of almost standing face to face with him, you silently communicate your desire. 
It's not enough. He's too respectful. 
Fuck, you like him a lot already. 
“If you want to kiss me then just kiss me…” you whisper, teasing smile in full display “Dummy.” 
He fakes a gasp at your jab as he leans in, his pretty nose bumping into yours for a second and making you giggle, part your lips and close your eyes while buzzing with expectation. 
The sky has other plans, though. It roars above you and you both look up. 
It's been cloudy, a couple of days of unusual humidity throwing off everyone but you guess the steam gathered up in the clouds just in time to knock some sense of reality into you. 
Or pushing you further into the craziness of this one day alone. 
Seonghwa groans a little and then a phone starts ringing in someone's pocket. 
Not yours, you made sure to hit the not disturb button as soon as you got ahold of it. 
You should probably tell your brother you're okay. 
But Seonghwa is still close to you, his lips a breath away from yours, so you put it aside when he shows no intention of picking up his call either. 
The tension builds up again, both of you ignoring the thunderstorm approaching and everything else. 
There's many things from today you're not going to be able to explain any time soon, the magnetic pull Seonghwa had on you the first time you laid eyes on him is one of them, the freedom you touch with your fingertips when your mind is finally off your duty, off your family… 
It's so dangerous you quickly become addicted to the recklessness of it all. 
And then his phone starts ringing again, so you welcome the reality that washes over you with a sour face and pout on your lips. 
“The universe must be against us being a thing, huh?” You whisper and he clicks his tongue in disapproval, resting his forehead on yours for a second before pulling away completely, pulling out his phone from his pocket. 
“I don't think the universe has much to do with this one, dear,” he frowns and misses the way you flush at the sudden nickname. You swear on your life, normally you would be pretty disgusted at the endearment. Now? You want him to call you that again “I should take this and we should probably go somewhere else. There's not much to cover us up if it starts raining.” 
“Sure, uh…” You fish your phone from your pocket as well, grimacing when you look at the missed calls and texts “I have to make a call, too.” 
He seems to understand immediately “Go right ahead.” 
Putting even more distance in between both of you, you faintly hear a what's going on from Seonghwa and then tap your screen to return your brother's call. 
He picks up right away. 
“Are you okay?!” 
His tone forces your eyes closed. Rushed, you picture him in the backyard with a cigarette in between his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself without worrying everyone else too much “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with a friend and—” 
“Then why don't you pick up the fucking phone?!” 
“Calm down,” taking in a breath and letting it out, you hear him do the same before continuing “Is there a way I can explain all of this to you tomorrow? I'm fine, Deokhee is a dick and I don't ever want to see him so I ran away like a—” 
“What did he do?” 
“No, nothing now, it's just… Listen, I'll explain tomorrow, alright? I'm staying with my friend tonight and everything will make sense tomorrow. It's really dumb, like… Teenage drama dumb,” you sigh, hoping that the minimal information you're giving him can help him figure it out “Just tell dad that I'm fine and if he asks I'm with a friend who is a girl and she's staying over at my place because there was a… Boy emergency or whatever.” 
“Are you with—” what seems to click is something else and your brother gasps “Y/N!” 
“Can you help out this time?”
The silence on the line seems to extend forever and guilt licks your throat, giving you the feeling that it's about to close up. 
You want to grasp what you felt a minute ago again, the freedom of this, of doing too much, of unnecessarily putting Christian through it because he already did so much for you growing up. 
Just tonight, at least, you owe yourself the feeling of not proving your place in your own family. 
But the silence hurts and you wonder if you could ever, truly, be free from it. 
“You owe me an explanation. Take care and text me goodnight at least, yeah?” 
“Okay,” you whisper back “Thank you, Ian.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I love you, kid.” 
His words fill your eyes with tears again and you don't get to reciprocate them before he hangs up. You know he knows, but it still hurts when you remember how unlovable you felt before you met him as a child.
It hurts when you remember that you allowed Deokhee to make that feeling return. 
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. 
And the more it hurts, the more the sky rumbles and you fear that, if you break down here and now, it would not only embarrass you in front of Seonghwa but also strand him on this hill with you. 
It doesn't matter that he calls this his breaking point, it's not yours to use. 
So again, your tears stay at bay and when you turn around you catch Seonghwa looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 
He wants to hug you, his body language gives him away as soon as he steps closer to you but a storm is about to soak through your clothes any second, so you pass him and grab his hand to pull him to his bike in the process. 
When his fingers intertwine with yours, you know he understands. He doesn't make any questions, he doesn't press any information out of you and just allows you to climb his motorcycle. 
“We need to leave.” 
“Where do you want to go?” he asks, getting on the bike as well and goes in for his helmet but your words stop him. 
“Do you want to stay the night with me?” 
Turning his head, he blinks at you a few times and you smile a little before the curve fades away. 
“I have my own place, we can order something in and just talk. Seonghwa, you…” biting the inside of your cheek, you try to approach this the right way “I don't expect this to go anywhere but can't you… Do you feel it too?” 
He stays silent and you fear you might've taken it too far. But it doesn't really matter. Willing to take the risk, you take his hand on yours again and hold it close to your heart. 
The sky roars again in response. 
And you catch when his breath hitches because of it, too. 
“Do you feel it, Seonghwa?” 
A bit passes and then some, his eyes searching for something in yours and then dropping to where your heart beats again.
“What's your address?”
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It's already raining by the time you both get into your building’s garage and park his Bonneville. 
The entire ride was a bit long. It had you resting your head on his back while his fingers tapped against yours with impatience. 
But when you make it to the safe space that is the elevator, clothes showing the evidence of the droplets falling from the sky and all, you finally get to breathe. 
Until Seonghwa steals that breath away again. 
He stares at you through the mirror, steps closer until he can take your face with his hands and swipes under your eyes where the makeup has run a little. 
“Ghost…” 
‘I didn't answer before,” he murmurs and wet his lips with his tongue. You can't help but stare at them, the moment somehow more intimate now, under the fluorescent glow of the elevator, than with the city lights and lighting above you “But I do feel it. I stand on what I said before, though.” 
“No dating?” 
He chuckles “No, not that,” shaking his head, he steps away when the elevator gets to your floor “I want to get to know you either way.” 
“Ah. That,” you feel silly for assuming he didn't want to date you, but given your history you're not sure you can blame yourself too much “Well, you're about to see my cave, so we're both halfway there.” 
As soon as you open the door and turn on the light, you can see in his face that he sees what you mean. 
It's a one bedroom apartment that doesn't leave too much to the imagination. Your bedroom’s door is opened, the bathroom door is closed and the kitchen is an American style one that's separated from the living space by a small counter you can barely fit your mail on. 
There's a lot of old furniture that you remodeled, painted over the cracks and stuffed where you needed the most. Your fridge is also old, the couch is somehow the only modern looking item in the living room and it stands out a bit because its material is not as worn out as everything else. 
There's posters on the walls, unframed and placed randomly because, here, you don't have to be put together. The only people who come over are your brother and your dad, so it's okay. 
It's not even an old building, but your apartment makes it look like one. 
“Hope you don't mind the mess, Grandpa.” 
“Oh, I'm not Ghost anymore?” He asks with a breathy laugh, taking his shoes off as you place yours by the entrance and shrugging his jacket off too “It's not messy, it's… Kind of like the shop, really.” 
Mirroring his actions, you take off the leather jacket and welcome the warmth of your apartment “Greasy?” 
“Cool,” he corrects and you walk through your space picking up a few things from the floor and putting them by the living room table “Is it yours, by the way?” 
“The shop?” he nods and you walk to your fridge to fetch you both some water bottles “It's my dads. Why do you ask?” 
“You seemed to own the place, with the way you walked around it,” shrugging, he takes a seat on your couch as he takes in the space “I just wondered…” 
Walking in front of him on purpose, because you could've easily rounded the table and sat at the opposite edge of the couch, you sit right beside him and offer him a water bottle that he takes with a whispered thanks “You wondered…” 
“A lot of stuff, actually,” he admits and you smile “Like your age, for example. Your last name, how did you end up working as a mechanic, if you were studying something, if you…” he pauses and turns to the side, resting his shoulder on the couch “If you liked me the way I liked you.” 
Choking on the water you're gulping down, it's very evident you didn't think he was about to go down that lane again. 
So directly, too. 
He laughs, leaning in and wiping your chin with a familiarity that has you even more breathless than his confession. No, scratch that, it's all of it. All of him. 
“Don't make me get on that bike again tonight, dear.” 
That goddamn endearment again. You might risk it all and kiss him, chin wet and all. 
“Whatever for?”
“You clearly almost choked to death,” he exaggerates, probably an excuse to stay that close to you longer than he needs to “And it was my fault, too.” 
Smiling and shaking your head, you push him a bit until he falls back into his previous position, smugness tugging at his lips in a way that has your insides jolting up with excitement “I do like you, Ghost.” 
“I know that now, but earlier I did wonder.” 
“Wondering is such a dangerous thing, isn't it?” 
His smile settles with a softness that melts you, your hand back in his with ease “Not necessarily.”
Squeezing his hand in unspoken agreement, you nod and then try to remember the topic of conversation before… Well, before he distracted you. 
“Well, you were kind of right with your assumptions then. It's not my shop, but I grew up in it,” you shrug, letting go of his hand to grab your phone “We should probably wait to order something.” 
“Yeah, until the monsoon dies down,” he says, looking outside your window that does little to conceal the thunderstorm outside “You grew up fixing bikes?” 
“Cars,” you correct with a nod, connecting your phone to the speaker that lies under your tv “Is my day to day playlist alright?” 
“Yup,” he crosses his legs on the couch and you see from the corner of your eye how his follow your actions, heat rushing to your cheeks at how attentive he is “Did you always want to be a mechanic?” 
The question takes you by surprise, but you cover it up as you set the volume to the perfect percentage to let you two have a proper conversation without raising your voices “Kind of. It's all I'm good at, really,” you shrug “Also, my dad’s wife looked very cool in pictures growing up and I wanted to be just like her, so.”
“Your mom?” you shake your head and he frowns “Your stepmom?” 
“No, uh…” clearing your throat, you get ready to reveal a piece of you that you rarely share with other people, even if it's obvious to everyone else “I'm adopted. Me and my brother we, mmm, we used to live in this sort of… Group house, I guess, and dad just picked us one day,” word vomiting again, once that you open the dam you don't know how to stop “I mean, he's not… We're not blood related, either, he just brought me along like when you adopt a dog at a shelter and they give you their favorite blanket, you know?” 
Seonghwa is full on frowning at that and you think that, for the sake of just agreeing with you, he's going to nod and let it go, but he doesn't “I don't think you're just something your brother brought along with him. Adopting two kids is a big decision, isn't it?” 
Reluctantly, you nod. 
“Well, there you go.” 
“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him, though,” you shrug and sip on your water bottle again, gulping the liquid to send that lump on your throat down “But it doesn't really matter because it was a long time ago and now they're both stuck with me.” 
He shakes his head but laughs a little at your sudden shift and, this time, he does let it go. 
But you don't. 
“Thank you, by the way.” 
He smiles, a little confused “For what?” 
“Helping me when I needed you to. We don't really know each other and yet…” 
“It feels like I know you, though.” 
Sharing the sentiment, you nod “I know, it's weird but, uhm… You didn't need to do what you did for me tonight. You even took me to your breaking point!” you let out a puff of air, making it a bigger deal than what it sounds. It's a bigger deal for you, anyway “And then drove me all the way here. That's a lot.” 
“It's not much. It was my fault, really,” he shrugs and shakes his head at the confused look you give him “I kind of… Asked the universe for an excuse to stay with you, so…” 
“Ah, so it was your fault Deokhee showed up,” the lighthearted joke lands the way you intended because he laughs with a sound so beautiful it makes your heart pick up “Got it.” 
“Do you feel better? I mean, after seeing him, are you feeling better?” 
“Not really, it sucks,” you say with a bitter laugh “But I hold grudges like that. It's not…” you raise your hands in self defense suddenly “I don't want him like that anymore, it's just that I can't help but…”  
“I understand,” he whispers and you let out a sigh again, grateful that he interrupted your rambling “People believe that forgive and forget is the way to go when you're resenting someone but human beings don't really work like that, hm?” 
“Yeah…” 
Staring at him, that weird emotion that you felt at the top of the hill comes back. That dangerous warmth that makes you want to take his hand in yours and place your lips at the back of it with a familiarity you haven't really earned yet. 
So when you catch him staring at you the same way, you change the subject. 
“What do you do?” eyebrow raising, you eye him suspiciously and that makes him giggle “Meetings all day, past normal shift hours…”
“I renovate spaces, Y/N,” he laughs again “You made it sound like I work with the mafia.” 
“Do you?” 
“No. I have a buddy that does, though.” 
“Oh, so I was kind of right then?” 
“Yeah, yeah…” you both laugh again and then he looks around your living space like he did when you two first got in “You were right about the whole getting to know you just by looking at your apartment.” 
“I know, it says a lot about a person.” 
“It does!” He's excited now, sitting straighter and turning ever so slightly, your knees bumping now “There's only a few people that I trust who have those… Beige, white and black houses or apartments and that's only because I got to know them before I saw where they live.” 
“So, you have rich friends?” 
He stops and thinks for a second “Yeah, they all have a lot of money. I mean, the people I'm talking about, not my friends,” you raise your eyebrow again and he chuckles “Alright, I only have one rich friend. The rest of them are broke musicians and college students. He was actually the one who called earlier and, uhm…” 
“Interrupted us?” You offer, smiling. 
His cheeks gain a little color, maybe from the memory “Y-yeah.” 
“Everything's okay?” 
“Yes! Yeah, he wanted me to go pick him up from something but I told him I couldn't because, well—” 
“You were with me.” 
“Mhm,” you see him gulp and the mood shifts a little bit again. His face falls down as he eyes your parted lips, leaning in again ever so slightly, like he's not really thinking it through “Couldn't leave you stranded and he has a chauffeur.” 
Unconsciously, you start leaning in a bit too.
“Do you like it?” 
“Yes… D-do I like what?”
You chuckle and he breathes out a laugh, too “Renovating spaces…” 
Pressing his hands into the fabric on the couch, at your sides, he invades your space a little more now “I do… Do you like fixing cars?” 
Nodding, your nose is a whisper away from his now “I do…” 
He breathes and it lands right on your mouth, making you pant as well. 
“That's good.” 
“Mhm.” 
Eyes closing, your lips tremble a little as you wait for him to close the distance. 
“You're so fucking pretty—” 
You close the distance instead, pressing your mouth into his and letting the tension deflate your posture because you're finally tasting him. 
Your little fantasy is not a fantasy anymore. 
And it feels so fucking good. It feels good to have someone you desire, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, reciprocate your emotions and pull you closer to make acquaintance with your taste as well. 
Seonghwa makes a noise you want to engrave into your brain the second you grab his shirt and pull him to you as well. And then you move. 
The couch is stuffy, your bed is a mess and the cold from the thunderstorm makes its way to your living room even if you feel your entire body lit up from the swipe of his tongue against yours. 
So you stand up. 
You give him a teasing smile when his mouth chases after yours once you pull away “Where are you going?” 
“Another thing you should know about me,” you start, breathy, your thumb swiping your bottom lip on instinct and his eyes follow the motions “Is that I have very noisy neighbors. The woman in that apartment over there,” you point at the window right in front of yours, the building separated by the street but still close enough to tell everything that goes inside your neighbors apartment if you wanted to “Once made a complaint against me because I walked out in my underwear one time.” 
“Is she blind or bitter or something?” he asks, amused by your sudden storytelling, chest heaving as you pull your curtains closed “Or both?” 
“She's old,” you tell him, turning around “And you haven't seen me in my underwear to make that a point, Ghost.” 
“Yet,” he smirks slyly and you blush at the implication. Seonghwa reaches for you as you pass in front of him again and slip right through his fingers a second time “Now where are you going?” 
He sounds whiny. 
You like that. 
“Another thing you should know about me,” walking to the door and turning off the big light, the living room goes dark except for the lighting that illuminates it as you're making your way back to him, getting on your knees on the couch and reaching behind him to turn on a lamp that doesn't do much but, this way, at least you can see each other “Is that I don't invest in new shit. Can't afford it, so those curtains are useless during the day… And when the lights are turned on.” 
“You don't want people to gossip about you kissing a hot guy?” 
“Wow,” his cockiness is clearly a joke but you won't let the opportunity of making fun of him go “Is the hot guy in the room with us?”  
He beams at you. 
“Oh, shut up, Y/N.” 
Humming and feeling a lot more comfortable now that you know that, in fact, the spotlight won't be on you when you keep kissing his lips raw as you intend to, you loop your index finger in the collar of his shirt and tug with minimal force at it. 
He acts like you put a lot of strength while doing it, his lips a breath from yours again as a consequence.  
You're about to let out a witty remark, something to keep the teasing and flirting going but then his eyes actually light up like the sky when the song playing on the speaker changes. 
“That's what you were humming yesterday!” His hands fall to your waist and you all but get whiplashed at the quick change in attitude. 
He looked like he was about to risk it all a second ago and now he's letting his back fall into the couch and taking you with him. 
“Huh?”
“I didn't saw anyone when I came into the shop yesterday and then I heard you humming this song.” 
“Oh,” you laugh, braising yourself on your forearms as he moves his hands up your back “Is one of my favorite songs by them.” 
“By who?”
Eyes wide as saucers, you gape at him in disbelief “Kiss?” 
“I don't know them like that!” 
“You don't know this?” he giggles under your scrutinizing gaze and you follow, still in disbelief. You don't really know what possesses you, but you start singing along to the lyrics “I was made for lovin’ you, baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” 
Seonghwa's laughter dies down at that and you notice it too: How the words somehow seem fitting even though you is day two of knowing him. 
The way his heart beats under the palm you place right above it, on his chest, feels intoxicating. 
So you descend again, your front colliding with his and your mouth grazing his beautiful one as you sing the song to him. 
“And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?” 
“Fuck…” 
You laugh “That's not really how it goe—” 
His tongue probing your lips open shuts you up for good. 
Seonghwa's hands hold you close, tracing the curve on your back slowly with his thumbs until he finds that spot where your shirt rode up a little, goosebumps on your skin letting him know what he provokes on you. 
There's never been a point in time where you let yourself wonder if you're moving too fast. 
For you, someone who had to take every chance they got in life to get something, out of fear the opportunity wouldn't show up again, this thing you got with Seonghwa feels like it's going at the right pace. 
You both like each other, that much is clear. 
Nothing dramatic has really happened to bond you two together, but it feels like it has. 
Like you're bonded. 
Like it was fated, somehow. 
Like his motorcycle had to break down and he had to walk into the shop when you were the only one there to assist him. 
Like he had to see you breakdown, take you away from the despair Deokhee brings to your soul, in order for you to finally let go and move on to greater things. 
And there's nothing greater than feeling his hand travel down and absentmindedly grab your ass, a noise of satisfaction slipping through your lips and landing on his at the feeling. 
“I'm so—” 
“I liked it,” your smile blends with his as you peck his lips and he does it again, gaining a pleased hum from you “Come here, Ghost.” 
“Where?” 
Disentangling your limbs from his, you follow your original plan and slip from the couch to the floor, your knees hitting the soft carpet you have under the coffee table you're grateful is not that in the way.
Seonghwa sits on the couch again, opening his legs to accommodate the new position you're in and you see the image get to him before the suggestion hits your head. 
You see him gulp when you lick your lips and then it's your turn to gulp, trying to understand if this is something he wants as much as you want it.
Because suddenly you want it. You want it so much. 
It doesn't take much to gather up the courage to touch him, his thighs inviting you to caress them with your nails, teasing, testing him “Is this okay?” 
“Yeah,” he breathes out, hooded eyes and a soft, whiny, trembling tone making fidget on your knees “More than okay.” 
It makes you smile. But there's things to clear up before you go any further. 
“I don't want you to think I brought you to my house just to get on my knees in front of you, Seonghwa.” 
“I don't… I w-would never think that,” you nod and he releases a shuddering breath “I don't want you to think that this is all I want from you either, Y/N.” 
“I don't think that,” you whisper “but thank you for making it clear.” 
“Mhm, I… Oh.” He stops when your touch trails higher and you take your hands away. 
“You wanted to say something else?” 
“N-no.” 
Squinting your eyes at him, you press “You sure?” 
“I was going to say that I want you… S-so please touch me, please.” 
Who would've thought that a man begging would turn you on so, so much? 
You catch on to it immediately. Lowering your hands again, this time around his calves, you pull him a little so he can sit on the edge of the worned out couch. 
He follows suit. 
“You want me to touch you?” you murmur and he nods “Where?”
He closes his eyes, blush beautifully creeping up his neck “Y/N…” 
“You asked me to touch you, but I already was…” you say, like it's the most obvious thing ever “So where do you want to be touched, hm?” 
Straightening your spine and angling yourself upwards, your nose hovers just below his chin. Hands starting to go up again, you hear his breath hitched when your palm grabs into the fabric of his pants before letting it go, the sound of it hitting the skin under making you and him release a noise. 
“How do you want to be touched?” 
Looking down, Seonghwa's mouth barely brushes your nose when he says “So it's going to be like this?” 
“It's working for you,” you whisper back, the pad of your fingers pressing on his inner thighs and, when you look down, the tent in his pants curves your lips with pride that shows when you turn to him again “Isn't it?” 
Pupils blown, he bites down on his lip and you see, for a slight second, a switch in his demeanor that makes you want to drop the teasing just to ask him to take you right there, on the floor, on the couch, wherever he wants to. 
But, as soon as your fingernails trace the outline of his cock, he switches back “P-please...” 
He doesn't have to beg you anymore. 
Desperate to have him squirming under your touch, you push a little with your thumbs and he whines, a sweet sound you can't treasure as long as you want to because hand grabs your neck and his mouth crushes yours in want. 
In a few seconds, the button of his pants is off and the fabric is pooling at his ankles. You help him out of them, his mouth never leaving yours except when you two break apart to pass sweet moans in between kisses and barely there bites. 
Boxers succumbing to the same fate as his pants, you get him needy and panting into your open mouth as you finally take him fully into your hand. 
Pumping one and then twice, you finally pull away to look at him and the sight that welcomes you is beautiful, big and oozing at the tip. 
Eyes connecting with Seonghwa’s again, you make sure he's looking at you before gathering spit and letting it fall into your hand. 
He moans. 
And then he moans a little more when you start working his length, butt connecting to the carpet once again to give him attention fully. 
It feels invigorating, the control he gives you makes you float into an intimate space you never had the opportunity to explore before and that just adds up to the list of things you're grateful for. 
You take in his reactions, the way he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut when you get close to the tip and tease it before going back down, the way his breath catches in his throat when you lean in and blow some air on it before letting yourself have a taste of him. 
Licking around the tip and eyeing him as you do so, you get to catch him throw his head back in bliss. Then, you indulge both of you a little bit more: hollowing your cheeks, you move forward to take him in your mouth. 
And then you moan around him at the feeling and he shivers under the palm you placed on his knee to keep steady as you suck him off. 
“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dear,” he encourages and you bat your eyelashes at him teasingly, making him chuckle before whining again. Tangling his fingers on your head to guide you to the right speed, he closes his eyes and curses under his breath “So fucking good.” 
It only makes you want to hear him again. So you do your best to stay on him, breathing through your nose and continuing your ministrations as you moans above you, filling your living room with sounds you want to plaster across the walls, encapsulate in a bottle to hear them again when he's not with you. 
You take him deeper and his grasp on your head tenses before you release him with a lewd sound you didn't really intend to make. 
Breathing hard, you let out a whine when he tilts your head back. He looks at you with indescribable desire, want and a little smile that prones yours. 
“You have no idea,” he starts, leaning in to take you mouth with his again, tongue swiping at the saliva that gathered under your bottom lip “How bad I want to ruin you now.” 
Oh, so maybe he's not as submissive as you thought. You should've guessed it, the slight switch and the little glint earlier would've hinted you his true intimate nature if you weren't so busy trying to get the act up. 
“Only if you want to, of course.” 
And yet, he's such a fucking gentleman. You can practically feel yourself getting wetter at his words. 
Your whisper is sweet, a confirmation on what you want and what he obviously wants to hear “Come here, Ghost.” 
You make space for him on the floor and he doesn't question why the both of you are not on the way to your bed right now. 
He seems to like it, even, so you giggle into his mouth at his eagerness to lay you down on the soft carpet and hum appreciatively when his hands bypass your shirt and grab your bare waist to accommodate you both into a comfortable position. 
With his leg in between yours and his chest pressed against you, he kisses you until you're pliant, needy and janking him down to earn some sort of friction. 
Mouth descending down your cheek, into your jaw and then your neck, Seonghwa scatters kisses in the soft spots like he already mapped you out with his mouth. 
His hands touch you where you like, his knee bumps into your core to keep you there as he works his way through you like he had you like this before and it's addicting. 
It feels right. 
He mouths at the valley of your breasts and softly sinks his teeth into the flesh through your shirt and it makes you dizzy, letting out a moan that makes him smile. 
Touching him too, you give his back some attention before sinking your fingers on his silky hair and tugging at the strands. 
He kisses down, down, down until he reaches your belly and then bites you the same way he did seconds ago “Ghost…” 
“Say my name, Y/N.” 
“Hm?” 
“I love when you call me Ghost,” he starts, breathing hard and you watch his nose disappear under the fabric of your shirt, raising it a bit more when he moves to be eye to eye with you “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” kissing the sense out of you for a few seconds, he talks against your mouth “Can you do that for me, dear?” 
“Yes,” you barely nod, opening your eyes to find his “Seonghwa.” 
The way you whisper his name, needy and teasingly at the same time, seems to wake something else in him. 
Because in a second, he's asking you to raise your body a little so he can take your shirt off. You help him with his and he moves to undo the clasp on your bra after asking for permission one more time and you shouldn't really find his insistent questioning of consent so hot but you do. 
He takes his time with you, exploring you with his mouth as you do your best to keep still under him. He kisses your chest, rounding your nipples with his tongue and taking them into his mouth after.
Lightning illuminates the room and electricity runs through you and settles into your core. 
“Seonghwa…” 
The sky roars when he gives your legs attention over the fabric of your pants, moans blending into the thunder and the sound of the raindrops against the window when he pulls back and raises your left leg to kiss a path from your ankle to your thigh. 
You buck your hips at the feeling, asking for more without really saying anything and he smiles before moving to your right leg and giving it the same amount of attention. 
“You want me to touch you?” He asks and you're about to call him out for being mean and clueless, but his smirk proves he's only teasing “Where do you want me to touch you, Y/N?” voice low and dripping in honey, he unbuttons your pants and you're not too fucked out yet to know he's returning the way you tortured him earlier “How do you want me to touch you?” 
Your pants end up meeting with his somewhere under the coffee table and you smile when he zeroes on the wet patch your arousal has formed on your underwear. 
And, unlike him, you're not actually humble in asking what you want “Don't you want to taste the mess you've made, Seonghwa?” 
When he eats you out, he makes sure to taste it real good. Open you up with his fingers, learn the right pace and pressure until heat pools on your lower abdomen and you're incoherently babbling praises under your breath. 
When you come undone on his tongue, you make sure to repeat his name like a mantra. Over and over again until he's sated with his meal and leaves the remnants of it in wet marks as he makes his way up to your mouth. 
Tasting yourself on his tongue is heaven. 
“Sound so pretty for me, you're so… Fuck, Y/N.” 
Taking him into your hand again, his dick twitches at the sudden attention it's getting and you explore the skin on his neck, lap at his collarbone and nuzzle against it because you just can't get enough. 
“I want you inside me, Seonghwa,” you whisper against his skin and you see him close his eyes when your other hand joins you on his chest, thumb against his nipple “Ruin me like you promised, hm?” 
He grabs your chin, eyes dark with passion and affection in a way you never want to forget “Your filthy mouth might be the death of me.” He whispers and you giggle, bratty.
“Good, I never want you to forget it,” you whisper back “I never want you to forget me.” 
“Never in a million years, dear.” 
Happy at his response, you kiss him and feel the warmth of his hand leaving you to try and grab his pants again. You giggle when he curses lowly, letting go of him so he can take a condom out of his wallet with a smile on his face. 
He looks back at you in the process, shaking his head in amusement at the way you're taking the tender pause and he's smiling when he rolls on the condom as well as when he lowers himself so he can kiss you senseless again. 
When Seonghwa enters you, the whiny mess he was when you first touched him makes its comeback and you welcomed it as you sink your nails into the skin of his waist, accompanying his slow movements as he eases you open. 
Soon, you're a whiny mess too. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and kisses your shoulder while you hug him tight to you and let yourself get lost in the buck of his hips and the way he slows downs to make the moment last, like you're not planning on keeping him in your life and making him see stars whenever he wants. 
When he picks up the pace, the living room is warmer than it was when you first came in and the cold from the storm outside it's forgotten as his sweaty forehead rests on yours and his hips snap into yours with vigor.
“That’s it, dear. God, you feel so good…” 
Ruin you he does. Because this time, as he flicks your clit with his thumb and you come, it solidifies the fact that there's no one else you want. 
Is it crazy and a little rushed because you just met him? Yes. 
Do you give a damn? No. No you fucking dont. 
He ruins you for good and for everyone else, as well. 
“Seonghwa! Fuck, fuck, don't stop.” You beg, overstimulated and hips aching, but wanting him to reach his high so badly none of that matters. 
When his hips stutter, you take his ass with your hands and keep him in place, buried deep inside of you and walls pulsing around him as he comes with a beautiful cry and a rasp of your name in his throat. 
Panting, you take the opportunity to kiss his face as he comes down, nose slowly caressing his with affection and gratefulness and emotion you can't express because it's not the time yet. 
“God, Y/N.” He breathes out with a chuckle and you reciprocate it, kissing his mouth once more before deflating against the soft carpet under you. 
“I know,” you look at him, at his fucked out expression and the cute way he kisses the hand you use to wipe the sweat out of his face makes you feel giddy and in love, even if you know you're aren't in love with him yet “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 
Laughing, he nods in agreement “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 
He kisses you again and then pulls out, making a quick work on the condom and asking for the bathroom so he can dispose of it before making his way back to you. 
When he does, you're already sitting down, still naked, but sipping at your forgotten water bottle. Sitting down next to you, he places a kiss on top of your head.
The carpet is definitely going to use some cleaning after tonight, but that's okay. 
There's a bit of comfortable silence as you both recover from the amazing sex you just had. He takes a sip of your water bottle as well and then there's another thunder that shakes your window and all, making you both jump a little. 
Seonghwa “Do you… Mind if I stay over?” 
You snort “I wasn't planning on letting you go anywhere, Ghost.” 
He smiles, getting close to your face again “Even if it stops raining?” 
You nod, pecking his lips “Even if I have to go and clean up my room just for you.” 
“Oh, wow,” he whistles loud and you push him in feign annoyance, looking around for your underwear “You like me, like me.” 
“Shut the fuck up!” 
He attempts to hug you but you push him away again and stand up, making a quick job of putting your panties back on “Say that you like me and I'll let you kidnap me if you want.” 
“That's not how kidnapping works, idiot.” 
He gets up as well, taking his underwear and putting it on as he follows you around your apartment. 
You quicken your step, but he catches you right as you enter the mess in your bedroom. He hugs you tight, you back against his bare chest and his chin on your shoulder a second later “I'll honestly let you keep me even if you say you hate me, Y/N.”
Is sweet and it should make you cringe but you all but melt against his touch. There's no really a need to tell him you like him when you place his hand on top of your chest so he can take in the way your heart beats for him for the second time tonight. 
“Good,” you turn a little, smiling at him and then turning to your room again “Do you want to help me clean this up just to make it messy again?” 
“Y/N!” 
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Seonghwa doesn't help you clean your room. He, in fact, makes it a lot messier as soon as you two get into bed and when he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he can be by your side every night. 
The only thing that disturbs his sweet dreams is the way you squirm in his hold and he can't quite place the reason for it until he hears the loud, banging alarm ringtone he has set at six thirty so he can get ready for work. 
Murmuring and still half asleep, you slap his chest so he can tend to it “Turn it off, Ghost.” 
He does and he checks the time and the screen of his phone to find a message from his boss. It reads something about taking the opportunity to take the rainy day and work from home or something like that and Seonghwa can confirm, looking through your bedroom window, that the rain falls softly against it still. 
He smiles, grateful to have his laptop with him so he can work on his report if you decide not to kick him out first thing in the morning, and then rolls back to you so he can cuddle you and sleep in for the first time in months of commuting to the office. 
Then his phone rings again. 
Both of you groan at the sound and you sit up, the big t-shirt you put on after taking a shower gathering messily around your waist and he almost forgets about the call at the sight of you. 
You're so beautiful. 
“Pick it up and tell them to go fuck themselves for calling you so early. What the fuck.” 
He smiles “Bossy.” 
“You like it.” You say, smiling back and falling on top of him as he answers the call from an unknown number, your cheek resting on his chest. 
He makes sure his voice sounds extra sleepy when he does “Hello?” 
“Good morning, mister Park!” It's a woman on the line, a voice he recognizes but can't quite place yet “I'm sorry to wake you up, but yesterday you asked me what good you're to me… Guess what? You can find out today!” 
She sounds sarcastic and tired and like she drank seventy energy drinks to stay awake. Seonghwa scavenges his brain until the memory hits him “Miss Kim?” 
You look up at that, curious. 
“The one and only. Now, tonight you will accompany me to a party and—” 
“Miss Kim—” 
“I'm not finished,” you cuts him off, annoyed “At the party, I need you to pretend to be my boyfri—” 
“No.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“No, I will not go to the party with you and no, I will not pretend to be your boyfriend.” 
Now, you sit up on the bed again and frown at him. He shrugs and sits up as well.
“This could be a really great opportunity for you to gain connections and—” 
“Miss Kim,” he starts and, after taking in the sudden desperation on her voice, he sighs “I'm flattered you have taken me into consideration for this… Particular, uhm, job?” He offers, feeling awkward as hell “But my day is taken and I'm not single anymore, so I can't do it.” 
He watches you as you break into a little knowing smile and he smiles back, not even the disappointed sigh Miss Kim lets out on the other side of the line can break him away from the spell you so easily put him under. 
“This is very inconvenient for me but I hope you and the cool girl I saw yesterday are happy together… Even if it ruins my happiness forever!” She sounds like she doesn't really mean the last part but it's trying hard to make it seem like she does “God… Ugh. Don't mention this to my brother and please cover that stupid tree up, okay? Goodbye.” 
She hangs up before he even gets the chance of saying goodbye or asking if she'll be okay. He has friends who wouldn't pass the opportunity to fake a relationship and go to a party, anyway. 
“So,” you start, getting on your knees and making your way back to him “What the fuck was that?” 
He reaches for your waist without really thinking about it, like he's been doing it his whole life and you sit on his lap like this is a morning routine you two crafted with years of experience. 
“I don't really know. Remember my client's sister?” you nod “She wanted me to be her fake boyfriend at a party tonight, I think.” 
“And you told her you're not single anymore to save face because you didn't want to go?” 
“I told her I wasn't single because I'm not,” he says, honestly “Even if you're not my girlfriend right now… I don't really want to see anyone else but you, so…” 
You fake a gasp and he rolls his eyes, smiling like an idiot when you lean in to leave a peck on his lips “And I was about to kick you out ten minutes ago!” 
Pouting, he holds you tighter “Why?” 
“That stupid alarm almost made me.” 
“I turned it off!” 
You laugh at the way he pretends to be offended and you're about to say something else before his phone starts ringing like crazy. 
It's not a call, it's a message notification. 
He turns to it and sees that Yunho is spamming the group chat with emojis. 
“Oh, God,” he sighs “What now?” 
“Is that your friend from yesterday?” 
“Mhm.” 
When Seonghwa scrolls to the messages to find something that can indicate what the hell is going on, he reads something a little alarming. 
Does anyone want to skip town tonight? 
He blocks the phone and tosses it into the bed, turning to your worried form with a smile “Do you want to meet my friends tonight?” 
You seem to get it immediately. 
“I would love to, Ghost,” you lean in to kiss him again, softly “Only if you introduce me as your girlfriend and not your mechanic, though.” 
Heart beating with a wonderful song, he agrees with soft yes and kisses you dumb for the first time today. 
He almost misses the deadline for his report, too. 
It's not really his fault that he can't get enough of you. 
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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moonywritez6 · 11 months ago
Text
Kinktober Day 1 Praise Kink (Reupload)
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Character: Sebastian (Stardew Valley)
Reader: Fem Reader!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Praise kink, smut, pet names, unprotected sex, harsh language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes,
Wc: 4,795
A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!
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"If you keep glaring like that, you'll get wrinkles." You scoffed, bringing your drink to your lips as you glanced at your friend Leah, who happily munched on a salad, giving you a playful grin as she pointed her fork in the direction your eyes had been staring daggers at just seconds ago. At the other end of the Stardrop Saloon stood your recent ex-boyfriend Sam and his usual gang, except this time there was someone new with them. Your eyes took in the sight of your ex's arm tightly wrapped around Penny's shoulders as he went and kissed the top of her head, causing your heart to ache as you slightly cringe at the sight. "He's such a dick, right?" Leah questioned, tilting her head towards Gus, who silently cleaned one of his glasses. Gus opened his eyes, glancing from the two girls over to the group of young adults whose laughs echoed throughout his salon.
"Would you like another drink, Y/n? on the house?" He questioned, getting ready to give the farmer another cup. You took one last look at the new couple before letting out a deep sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a slight headache approaching. "No, I think I should start heading back home. I have to wake up early to help Pierre with some new sales ideas he has." The two let out small sympathetic 'ahs' at your words while giving nods of understanding. You carefully rummage through your jeans, pulling out what you owe and slapping it on the counter as you wave goodbye to everyone who acknowledged your exit. You carefully swing the door open, closing your eyes as the night breeze hits your slightly flushed cheeks, letting out a contempt sigh as you lean against the Saloon, staring up into the night sky. 
'Come on Y/n it's been like two months now, get over it.' You thought, annoyed with your feelings. 'Maybe I should try dating again? I am pretty busy, though, with Winter coming in just a few months.' Letting out another deep sigh, you kick yourself off the wall, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets as you turn to return to the farm. Before you could even take the first step back, the doors to the Saloon opened as a familiar figure stepped out in front of you, causing you to stop all movement. "Oh, you're still here, Y/n?" Sebastian questioned, a cigarette between his lips as he looked down at you, slightly surprised to see your form next to him. You took a small step back as your body shifted, showing discomfort at the man's sudden appearance. Sebastian didn't say anything as he eyed you silently while lighting his cigarette. 
"Uh…hey, yeah, I was just about to head back." You mumbled, unable to make eye contact with your ex's best friend. Sebastian hummed his eyes, boring holes into your unaware figure as he let out a puff of smoke while carefully leaning against the Saloon. "Is that right? You want to keep me company for a bit?" His words catch you by surprise as you look up at his mouth, slightly open in awe. Sebastian gives you a barely noticeable smirk, amused with your reaction, as he raises a brow, tilting his head down to get a better look at you. "What? Just cause you and Sam are no longer together doesn't mean I have to stop talking to you, does it?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing as he clicked his tongue. You grew nervous with that as you quickly waved your hands out while stuttering over your words as you tried to devise excuses. 
"T-that's not! I- well, it's just you guys are so close and…um…I… I'm sorry." You admit defeat as you bend over from guilt. Sebastian just let out a small chuckle while ruffling your head as he let out another cloud of smoke. "Good to see you haven't changed since we last talked." He mumbled while motioning for you to join him against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to entertain your old friend, having not talked to anyone besides Leah since the breakup. "You're right…I haven't changed at all." You admitted while looking down at the ground, tapping your feet together. Sebastian's eyes narrow as he takes in your pitiful form, his chest tightening with disgust as he recalls how you used to smile whenever he saw you with Sam. An awkward silence falls between you, neither knowing what to say to the other after having not spoken in two months. 
"Did you see Sam and Penny?" Finally, Sebastian addresses the two people filling your vision the entire night. He doesn't take your eyes off your form, watching you stiffen at the mention of his best friend and new girlfriend. He hesitates momentarily, debating whether he should hit you with the harsh reality of their situation or leave you to your deluded thoughts. "... They're dating now." He finally starts watching as your body trembles, causing his jaw to clench as he feels a bit of rage cloud his vision, not liking the effect his best friend still had on you. Sebastian bites his lip before going to continue with his words. "They've been dating since-!" His words cut off, eyes widening in shock as he feels your petite, but rough hands press against his mouth as you stand on your tiptoes, your body trembling. 
"Please… don't continue, I u-understand." Your voice sounded so pathetic and broken to the programmer as he listened to the minor hiccups that left your lips. "Hey, are you crying?" He mumbles carefully, going and caressing your cheek, feeling like his heart was stabbed with a pickaxe when he handles your damp skin under his fingers. Sebastian had only ever seen you cry once during the after-party of one of their band's gigs. Everyone was out cold from partying too hard, but Sebastian had woken up to use the bathroom, his head swirling from the alcohol as he staggered towards the bathroom. When he reaches out to grab the doorknob, he is shocked to see it swing open, his sleepy and intoxicated eyes locking with your surprised, tear-filled ones. "...Sam broke up with me." After staring at each other for an eternity, you whispered to Sebastian. 
Scowling at the memory, Sebastian cups both sides of your face, carefully rubbing his thumbs in circles across the bags under your eyes, most likely due to the lack of sleep you have suffered since the breakup. "Hey…hey shhh. Don't cry, Y/n, oh come on, princess, look at me." He cooed, his face inches from yours as he made eye contact with you. "Oh Y/n, you poor thing…geez, why didn't you come to me if you were suffering so much?" You couldn't say anything to the man before you as you cried, feeling your throat ache with each pathetic sob. You look up at Sebastian, his eyes no longer holding that annoyed and lazy look this time; they're much softer and filled with love and compassion as he gives you a small smile. "I-I'm sorry, Sebastian, I don't mean to," He cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace as he carefully rubs circles along your back. 
"Shhh, don't apologize, Y/n." He whispered, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head as he took in your scent, his heart racing as he gave your body a small squeeze of reassurance. "Just cry it out for me, okay?" He asked, a small smile ghosting his lips as he felt your body starting to relax. "There we go, that's a good girl." As the words left his lips, you heard the door to the Saloon open, causing whoever just left to hear everything. You go to pull away from Sebastian's comforting embrace, not wanting to have people get the wrong idea. However, his grip suddenly tightens as he rests a hand on your head, pressing your face further into his chest. "Y/n? Sebastian?" Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, your body stiffening as your heartbeat against your ribs. Sebastian rubs circles on your lower back once again as he lets out a lazy hum while looking over at his best friend and Penny standing just inches away from the two of you. 
"Oh hey…you two going home for the night?" He asked with a bored tone, utterly different from the gentle, caring one he had with you moments ago. Your mind starts to wander off as you think back to his words from earlier, finally processing. 'Princess? Good girl?' You thought your cheeks were quickly heating up as steam practically danced from your head, heart pounding as embarrassment overcame you. 'W-what the hell was with that?! A-and this current situation…oh no, Sam's going to get the wrong idea-!' Your rapid thoughts are put to a dead halt as you feel Sebastian's hand suddenly slide down to your ass, his palm gently rubbing circles along the squishy flesh before giving it a slight squeeze causing you to jump as you hid deeper into his chest. "Y/n? Are you okay?" You heard Sam question with that sickening sweet tone he would use when you used to date, indicating he was worried for you. 
"She's fine, just had a bit too much to drink tonight, right, Y/n?" You felt Sebastian dip his head close to your ear, his warm breath hitting your already flushed skin as he quietly whispered his following words. "Right, sweet girl? Be a good girl for me, and nod your head so he can beat it." He growled the last part as his grip on your ass tightened, causing a small whimper to leave your lips while the man chuckled. You do as told while slightly peaking past Sebastian's arms, your eyes still teary from your minor breakdown moments ago. "Y-yeah, Sebastian's right." This earned you a small reward as you felt his thumb carefully rub circles along your hip. You said nothing after that, internally praying for the two to leave so you could hurry up and return to the farm. Your thoughts soon drifted as you inhaled the smell of Sebastian's hoodie; he smelled of cigarettes and motor oil, hinting that he must have been working on his bike at some point today. You felt your mind get fuzzy as you nuzzled closer to him, causing the man to stiffen as his arms squeezed around you, resting his chin on your head again. 
Sam stood there momentarily before nodding, a nervous smile crossed his face. "Ah, I see! I was just about to walk Penny home. Do you want me to take Y/n back to the farm for you?" Sam asked, his eyes only leaving your form to glance at his best friend for a second. "Nah, I'm going to take her back home. You worry about getting your girl home." Sebastian laughed, though you felt his annoyance as he tapped a finger against your skin. Sam hesitated momentarily before complying when he felt Penny tug on his sleeve. With a slight frown, Sam nods his head while giving you both one last look. "Right…get home safe then." The two walked off, leaving you and Sebastian alone outside the Saloon. You listened as he let out a deep sigh, his entire body seeming to relax as he carefully rubbed his hand up and down your back while letting out a small laugh. "Finally, I thought he'd never leave." he joked, arms still holding you close. You felt yourself growing hot as you carefully tried to pull away. 
"U-um, Sebastian, I should get home now." You whispered, avoiding looking up at him. Sebastian hummed, tilting his head to look down at you, his eyes narrowing as a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, that's right, I have to get my good girl home~" He cooed, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him in shock, your mouth open to shout who knows what at him. Still, he was ready for this as he went and pressed his lips to yours, one hand carefully capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger as he tilted your head up to deepen the kiss. At first, your body is stiff from shock, your mind trying to process how all this was happening as your wide eyes stared straight into Sebastian's narrowed eyes. He smirked against the kiss as he pressed your body closer, his free hand trailing up and down your side, causing your body to relax as you slowly gave in to the feeling. 
The two of you slowly pull away from the kiss, a small string of saliva still attaching your lips as he presses his forehead against yours, his hand carefully caressing your cheek. "Are you lonely, baby?" He whispers, brushing his lips against yours, his eyes filled with desire as he slides his thumb down your lower lip, watching the plump skin tug with his digit, causing him to lick his lips. "Do you want me to take care of you, sweet girl? I can fix that lonely feeling, Y/n." His words cause you to shiver as a small whimper leaves your lips, tears filling your eyes as you feel your chest swell with joy at his praise, your ears wanting to hear more of it. "Come on baby…tell me what you want like a good girl." He kisses along your jaw as his hands ravish over your squirming body, eagerly awaiting your response. You bite your lip as you try to think of the consequences if you take the man in front of you home. You look up at him with a slight pout on your lips as he gives you a lazy smirk; however, his eyes hold nothing, but admiration mixed with lust as he stops, his hands gripping your hips with one last squeeze. "What's wrong, princess?" He whispered, feeling your hands grip at his hoodie. 
"Sebastian I…I want you to take me home." 
_______
As soon as the door to your house shut, Sebastian was all over you. His hands roamed around your body as he slid them up your shirt, kneading at your encaged breasts as he breathed a deep sigh into your ear. "S-sebastian, wait! We just walked in!" You cried, trying to push him away but failing as he went and pressed your front against the wooden floor, grinding against your ass as he leaned over you, licking the shell of your ear. "I'm sorry, princess, but I can't wait anymore. You're just too fucking cute." He growled, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he unclipped your bra, watching your breasts bounce with each grind of his hips. "So, fucking perfect princess." He whispers, going to pinch at your hardened nipples, earning a slight squeal out of you as your hips move back against his, causing him to bite his lip at the sudden friction. 
"Fuck do you like that Y/n? Does my sweet baby girl have sensitive nipples? Do you like me playing with them between my fingers like this?" He laughs as he gives a rough pinch to them, causing your back to arch as a low moan escapes your lips. "Y/n, do you want to know a secret?" He whispers while flipping you onto your back, making sure to grab each of your legs as he wraps them around his waist, pressing the bulge in his pants against your clothed pussy, a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you with a lustful gaze. "I've always wanted you. From the moment you moved here, I wanted to make you such a good girl who I could spoil." He admitted while sinking to leave kisses from your neck towards your chest as he carefully started sucking on one breast, an intense shiver running through his body as he listened to your moans, feeling you squirm underneath him. 
"Sam didn't deserve to have you princess." He moans his teeth, lightly biting the sensitive bud, causing you to let out a small cry, bucking your hips up to meet his own, causing him to chuckle as he pulls away from your breast with a small pop before sitting up straight. "Such a good girl~" He purrs while slowly pulling down your jeans, his lips trailing kisses down your thigh to your ankle as he lets out a small gasp, his eyes locking with the wet spot soaking through your panties, just begging for him to lick it all up. "Such a good girl, Y/n…" He whispers while sinking his head between your thighs, pressing a small kiss against the slick-coated fabric, causing your pussy to twitch as you watch him with hooded eyes, small pants of anticipation leaving your lips. "How long has it been, princess?" He whispers before dragging his tongue up and down the fabric slowly and tormentingly. "When was the last time someone made this pretty pussy of yours feel so good?" he growled while tearing the material out of the way, his tongue invading every inch of your dripping hole. 
Your eyes shoot open as you slap a hand over your mouth, a deep groan leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure jolting throughout your body as your muscles tense up. "F-fuuuuuuck." You cry, a hand reaching out to grab at his dark locks. He grabs your wrist, stopping your movement with a slight chuckle as he pulls away from your pussy. Your juices make his mouth messy as he slowly licks his lips, shaking his head. "Uh uh~ answer my question, princess…when was the last time a guy was inside you?" He leans over your body, lips inches from yours, slowly slips a finger past your folds, rubbing teasing circles around your clenching hole. You whine from the act while wiggling your hips, wanting to feel the digit deep inside you. "Come on, baby~ Just answer my question, and I'll reward you like the good girl you are." He teased, eyes clouded with lust as he tugged at his pants with his free hand, letting out a small groan from being so pent up. 
You look at him with a slight pout as he bites his lip, almost reaching his breaking point from how adorable you looked underneath him. "S-since Sam and I dated…I haven't fucked anyone else, so please…mmh…please make me feel good, Sebby~" You made sure to drag out the little nickname hoping it would give you some reaction, and boy, were you right. Sebastian clenched his teeth together, eyes narrowing as they clouded with pure desire as he licked his lips. "Since Sam, huh?" He asks a hum towards the end. Your eyes widen as your mouth forms an o when you feel his rough and lengthy finger sink deep inside you, causing your back to arch as you grip his biceps, watching his eyes travel down to his hand. "Then my poor baby hasn't been satisfied in so long…" he whispers before sliding another finger inside your needy hole, watching as his fingers go in and out each time, coated in a new layer of your beautiful juices.   
"You're doing such a good job baby, oh such a good fucking job." he moans, watching as your body squirmed underneath him while feeling you needily clenching around his fingers, causing his cock to twitch in his pants as he growls, biting into the crook of your neck. "Princess, look at me, sweetheart." He breathes while carefully adjusting your gaze onto him. "Did you know he used to brag about you all the time?" He confessed, eyes locking with your clouded ones as he slowly freed himself from his pants, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cock sprang against his chest. "He used to tell me all the time how sexy you were…" You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear the man fingering you talk about how your ex used to praise you to others, finding yourself disgusting for getting aroused.
"He was right but failed to mention how cute you are. Such a cute and obedient pussy~" He sang, a cocky smile on his face as he watched your body shiver underneath him, watching your eyes tear up as your pussy clenched around his fingers, indicating that you had found your release. Sebastian whispers sweetly into your ear as he slows down his fingers, still pumping them through your orgasm. "That's it, princess…such a good girl for me~" he praised while placing kisses all over your cheek as you frowned, trying to get the words to leave your mouth between heavy breaths. "I-i'm not… I'm disgusting." You whimpered, allowing your inner thoughts to come out. Sebastian frowned at this as he went and pulled your legs over his shoulders, causing you to squeak as he removed your limp body closer to him. "W-what are you doing?" You cried, still trying to come down from your orgasm as you pushed at his abdomen. 
Sebastian says nothing as he slowly slides his tip along your wet folds, watching the juices mix with his precum. "He's tried to ruin you…" he mumbles while positioning himself against your throbbing hole, his eyes slowly locking with yours as he grits his teeth. "Be a good girl for me, okay princess? You'll be my pretty little slut and take it all, right?" He smiles at his words while capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss before sliding his cock into your tight hole, causing you to whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, a few tears escaping from your eyes. Sebastian groans, his rough hands sliding up and down your hips reassuringly before pulling away his brows knit together as he kisses the corner of your lips. "So good, Y/n…such a good girl for me, princess." He mumbled, slowly moving his hips as he watched each pleasurable expression cross your face at the feeling of him inside you. 
"S-sebbyyyy," You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck while needily placing sloppy kisses along his neck, causing him to laugh in adoration, loving how cute you were being for him. "What is it, princess? What does my sweet girl want me to do?" He happily lends you his ear, so happy to hear you moaning out his name like you did so many times in his fantasies when he sat at home jerking himself off in the basement. You look up at him, lips swollen from him kissing you so aggressively, cheeks flushed as a bit of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth. "Please move! I wanna feel good!" You whined desperately, causing a soft and caring smile to appear on his face. "As you wish, princess." He whispered before pulling away from you, legs still tossed over his shoulders as his grip on your hips tightened. 
You gasped and moaned as his thrusts became more aggressive, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your squishy walls filling your mind as you tossed your head back, your loud and pitiful moans echoing throughout the quiet and dark house. Sebastian looks down at you, a slight blush on his cheeks, his breathing heavy as he watches your fucked out expression, his cock twitching inside you as he brings one of his hands to your chest, giving a squeeze as he desperately tries to thrust as deep as he could inside you. "Smile for me, baby~ ah, come on smile! Fuck show me that pretty smile, baby~" He whined, watching as you brought your head to face him, your expression causing him to swallow back a loud moan as he felt himself about to cum at just the sight. You looked up at him; the moonlight barely lit the area, showing your eyes shining from the tears of pleasure that had dampened your soft skin. Your cheeks were so flushed as drool slid down your chin when your lips tugged up into a fucked-out smile as you reached your arms up to cup his face. 
Sebastian looked down at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in awe as he felt his chest swell with nothing but love for the farm girl. "Sebby~ Am I a good girl? I did as told please tell me I'm a good girl!" You whined, feeling his cock hit that one spot you needed as you reached your second orgasm causing your tongue to stick out at him, his eyes turning feral. "Fuck princess…yeah, you're such a good fucking girl, alright baby." He suddenly pulls out, causing you to let out a needy whine, having not had enough of his cock inside you just yet. "Whose dick do you like more princess? Mine or Sam's?" He suddenly questions before slamming his entire length back inside your sensitive pussy, ignoring that you had just released for the second time that night. 
"It's mine right princess?" He growls, watching your tits bounce up and down at his faster pace. You can't say anything too fucked out by the intense pleasure you were receiving. Sebastian grunts and groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his cock wanting to paint your walls so pretty with his cum. "Come on baby say my dick is better. Come on, say it! Say it, oh god, say it with those pretty lips of yours, Y/n~" He whines, sticking his tongue out as he captures your lips in another sloppy kiss, listening to your lewd juices echoing throughout the house, his mind going crazy. He pulls away from the kiss, watching the strings of saliva fall back onto you, his heartbeat pumping through his ears as he pried your mouth open with two fingers. 
 "Say it for me, princess, and I'll give you such a good reward~ Just say it, baby. Come on, be my good, naughty girl~" He whined, desperate for you to say the words that would show him you no longer belonged to his best friend and that you were now finally his perfect girl who would do anything to be praised by him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you start feeling the knot in your stomach for the third time that night. The words barely leave your lips above a whisper, but he can still hear it. "Y-Your dick, Sebbyyyy! Mm, I like your dick more, Sebastian!" A deep growl leaves his throat as he presses his hips right against yours feeling himself ejaculating into your messy pussy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your walls clenching around him. You lay there too fucked out of your mind as you felt his cum filling your insides, a happy smile crossing your face as you watched Sebastian unconsciously try to push any cum that leaked out back inside when he pulled out. 
"That's my good girl~ so perfect for me~" He muttered while picking you up bridal style, leaving kisses along your face as he took you to your bed, carefully laying you down as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face. You hummed, tired eyes looking up at him as you leaned into his touch. "I'll grab you some water," he mumbled, giving you another kiss before heading towards the kitchen. As he patiently waited for the glass to fill, he noticed his phone going off, causing him to flip it open and look at the name of the person trying to call him. 
Sam
"Yeah?" Sebastian muttered, holding the phone up to his ear as he stopped the running water, making sure to have a tight grip on the cup, not wanting to break it. "Hey, I was calling to see if you made it home yet! I know you said you were taking Y/n home earlier. Did she get back safe?" Sam's voice laughed from the other end, instantly asking questions. Sebastian enters the room, stopping when he sees your sleeping face pressed against the pillow. He smiles quietly, walking over to you and placing the cup on your nightstand. "Yeah, we returned to her place a while ago." He admitted waiting to see if his best friend caught the fact he said 'we' instead of just you. Sam hesitates for a second, causing a slight smirk on Sebastian's lips as he awaits the blond's following words. 
"Are you still at her place then?' 
Sebastian just hummed as he sat on the edge of your bed, carefully playing with a strand of your hair as he looked down at you, eyes filled with love. 
"Of course, I'd still be at her house. After all, she's my girl now~."
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qlossytbh · 4 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you get your period. that’s the synopsis.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fem!reader, mentions of lots of period pain, cramps, nausea, fatigue..etc, mutual pining, idiots in love. pretty much just fluff tbh
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.2k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 guess who just got their period!!!!!
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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An involuntary groan left your lips, elbows perched against your desk and head falling weakly into the palms of your hands. Your forehead was shining a thin layer of sweat, breath short and jagged.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to alleviate the gut-wrenching pain that was pulsating throughout your lower abdomen. Your body felt weak, shaking slightly due to the pain.
This time of the month was the devil's way of making you pay for something you had done in a past life— although you couldn’t think of anything that would bring you anywhere near deserving of this monstrosity.
Penelope eyed you curiously, stopping midway on her trail back to her own little bat cave, as you liked to call it. It would take an idiot not to see how clearly in pain you were.
“Hello my sweet love,” She walked up to your desk, heels clinking against the floor. “You okay?”
You gave your friend a side glance, lacking the vast amounts of energy you needed to dismiss her concerned gaze.
“Just great Pen,” You gritted, teeth clamping together as one more wave of cramps shot through your body. Your cramps came in waves and right now you were trying to recompose yourself from one of said waves. You were failing miserably at the staying cool and collected persona.
Penelope's face fell, mouth curving into a small ‘o’ of understanding. “Oh..”
You slumped over your desk, resting your forehead on the cool surface as your arms snaked around your lower body. She rested a hand on your back and rubbed soft, soothing circles. “That time of the month?”
“Does everyone have such a hard time with cramps?” You groaned from your position on your desk.
“Some people do,” She whispered, voice hesitant. “I had a friend that had to go to the hospital once because of how bad her cramps were and they told her that she—“
You whined, curving your spine impossibly further as an attempt to sooth something, anything. Maybe if you curled up further into a ball it’d hurt less. Penelope could tell she wasn’t helping “Sorry! I thought I was helping with the—“
You were on the latter end of society that suffered period cramps immensely. Back pain, nausea— all of it. It made it impossible for you to come to work the week of your period, but hey, here you were pulling through.
Lucky for you, today had been paperwork day, meaning skimping through countless files was easier than having to run around chasing a serial killer while your uterus was being ripped to pieces.
Soon enough the bullpen's glass doors pulled open and in spilled the rest of the team, Emily chatting along with JJ, Spencer alongside a very enthusiastic Derek and so on.
Penelope continued to rub your back even when you lifted your head and let your chin settle on the desk with a pout that looked as clear as day. Anyone in this building could walk by and notice your clear discomfort— Spencer was no different.
He placed a hand on the back of your chair, ducking down to get a better look at your pitiful state. “Hey,”
“Hi,” You grumbled.
“Should I ask?” Spencer pulled a chair out from the desk beside yours and sat by your side, letting his hands fall in his own lap as he looked up at Penelope.
“I tried helping,” Penelope muttered out. “I get skittish when I don’t know how to help, or what to do and I do this thing with words and—“
You turned your head, laying it flat on its side on your cold desk to get a look at him— a proper one. Your eyes bored more than a million ways to say you were exhausted, and he immediately caught what was up. He always did.
“Doesn’t the fact that I look like a dying corpse give it away?” You complained, face smushed onto the desk
He smiled back. “You don’t look like a dying corpse,”
You blushed. “An already dead one then,”
He shook his head with a huff that left his nose. He scratched at his chin before muttering. “You were a little snappish and grouchy last week,”
Penelope visibly shrinked, thinking Spencer may have just pinched a nerve. “I’m gonna go get you a nice warm coffee, ok?”
It was all she needed to walk away in a hurried movement of heel clicks. You narrowed your eyes at him. Was he insinuating that you had been an utter pain in the ass last week because you were about to get your period?
Noticing this, he half-panicked before quickly jumping into his own defense. “You— uh, I often notice that you get like that the week before which it’s mainly attributed to hormonal fluctuations, particularly changes in estrogen and progesterone levels. They— These hormones can affect neurotransmitters like serotonin and GABA, which regulate mood and emotions.”
“I wasn’t that snappish and grouchy last week,” You knew you had been, because you always were the week before the devil decided to test your limits. You just didn’t really think anyone noticed.
But he did, he always did. And the fact that he did notice was doing funny things to your brain.
He smiled at you. Very softly and almost humorously. “Here—“
You perched up, watching as he reached into his satchel and pushed around in search of— well, something. He pulled out a bag and plopped in on the desk.
You reached over and grabbed the crumpled white paper bag “—I uh, you mentioned wanting a bag of swedish candy a few days ago, especially the sour ones, and me and Morgan walked by a shop and yeah— I figured why not get you some,”
He was doing that very expressive thing he did with his hands where he flared them around as he talked, but you just stared at the bag and then looked up at him.
The pink tint on his cheeks was evident as he avoided eye contact with you. Your shoulders slumped down, bag laying flat in your lap, while trying so hard to keep the tears from coming out of your eyes.
“Can I have a hug?”
Spencer cut himself short from the mumbling, looking up from the floors to study your face. He looked mostly confused, not really being able to pinpoint what was going through your head with your request. He had to be a very, very stupid man to deny your request.
His eyebrows pinched together, probably concerned for you, and that did no better for your upcoming waterworks. His voice came out in the very soft and caring way it always did when he was worried for you.“Yeah, of course,”
He pushed the wheels of the chair he had just pulled out and scooted closer to your own chair. His arms reached out for you, and you slumped forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face into it.
“Thank you,” You muttered. His hands tightened around your back, giving it a firm rub. He breathed in the sweet scent of you, basking in the strong vanilla that intoxicated every fiber of his being.
Being there for you as a friend, even infatuated as much as he was with you, was hard— but so worth it when he at least was allowed these moments with you.
You wanted to melt into him and not move a single muscle ever again. Why would you when your most comfortable place was in Spencer arms. It could never get better than this.
“You ok?” He mumbled into your hair, and you buried yourself deeper into his neck.
“Yeah, just wanna stay here for a bit,”
He smiled to himself, feeling you cling to him like dead body weight. As long as you felt a little better, he had no room to complain.
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rememberwren · 6 months ago
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/•Harmless Fun 4•\
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
For anon who asked for reader calling simon and johnny to pick you up from the bar after getting drunk. Thanks for requesting!
-
The phone rings, and Simon answers it before he even knows he is awake. Perhaps it’s that ingrained military training within him that has him snapping to attention at…quarter til two in the morning according to the glowing numbers of the digital clock on the nightstand. Or maybe it’s the remnants of the sleepless nights when Johnny was in hospital, when Simon would spend the hours staring at the ceiling and dreading the ring of his cellphone. Yes, he was perfectly fine when he kicked you out, but he’s taken a turn for the worse and doesn’t have long left…
“This is—” Ghost. Bravo-0-7. “—Simon.”
“Wha’ is i’?” Johnny slurs from the bed beside him, still more than half asleep. His hair is a mess, lines on his face from the pillow. He reaches out and finds Simon’s hand and they tangle fingers briefly, communicating via touch. Soap’s head lowers, though he doesn’t begin to snore again. He’s listening, more than likely. That military instinct is still in him too, even if his body can’t make the same use of it anymore. 
There is ambient noise from the other end of the phone, but Simon can’t quite make it out. He untangles his fingers from Johnny’s and puts the hand against his exposed ear, blocking out extraneous stimuli. There are voices, talking back and forth. Someone somewhere is laughing. Music, in the distance, though he can only make out the undercurrent of it, something with a heavy beat that he could likely feel in his teeth if he were there. 
Rustling. Then your voice: “—ut it, I’m on the phone, can’t you see? I—Simon? Are you there?” Distantly, like you’ve held the phone away from your mouth, he hears you admonish: “You made me miss him!” 
Simon slips out of the bed wearing only his boxers and leaves the bedroom in case Soap decides that he wants to fall back to sleep. He keeps his voice low when he says into the phone: “I’m here. What’s going on?” 
“My girlfriends all found boy-friends,” you mutter morosely, your every emotion heightened by the alcohol pulsing through your system. Simon doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sulky, not even when Soap ate the last of your leftovers from the diner last week. 
Someone in the background says, full of charm: “I could be your boyfriend.” 
Simon’s eyes narrow. He switches the phone to his better ear. “Who’s that?” 
“Who’s—? Oh. That’s Alan,” you say, your effect brightening somewhat. “He’s buying my drinks at the bar. Free drinks, Simon! Isn’t that nice?” 
Simon wrenches his keys off the hook beside where your own should be resting. Slipping back into the bedroom, he sees that Soap is sitting up now at the edge of the bed rubbing at his thigh. Simon gives him a nod, searching for his pants in the dark and stepping into them. He shoves his keys in his pocket. 
How fucking sweet, Simon thinks. He can imagine exactly what a pissant like Alan is thinking, too: that if he buys this lonely girl enough drinks at the bar, she’ll be easy to convince to come home with him. That maybe even if she puts up a bit of a fight, it wouldn’t be much trouble to persuade her…
He picked the wrong fuckin girl. 
“Have him open up his generous wallet and buy you a fuckin’ water. A bottle of it. Break the seal yourself, understand?” 
“I understand,” you say, sounding a little more sober in the face of Simon’s obvious displeasure. He works to temper his voice. 
“Put Alan on,” Simon says silkily. “Let me make sure he’s taking good care of you.” 
“You want to talk to him?” You sound baffled. Maybe you aren’t as drunk as he thought. 
“Said so.” 
There is a rustle as the phone is exchanged. 
A very unsure, masculine voice says, Hello? 
“I’m going to be there to pick up my girl in ten minutes or less,” Simon says into the phone. “If anything happens to her between then and now, I’m considering you personally responsible, Alan, do you understand me? Whether you had anything to do with it or whether it was an accident out of the clear fucking blue. You will answer for it. So if I were you, I’d take good fucking care of her. Am I clear?”
“I—I didn’t know she was taken—“
“Put her back on the phone,” Simon barks. 
You pick up the conversation right where you left off, not missing a single beat. “Anyway, Alan said he would give me a ride home since all my friends bailed, but I remember you said that if I needed a ride, I should call you and…oh Simon, I’m sorry if I woke you. This is stupid, isn’t it?” 
“Negative,” he says, slipping his belt through the loops. “Not stupid, I mean. Send me your location—your address. Get that water. Absolutely do not go home with any fucker who isn’t named Simon.” 
“What about fuckers named Johnny?” 
“Not even them. Name’s too common. Can’t trust you’ll get home with the right one.” 
“I resent that,” says Johnny, reaching for pants of his own. 
Simon hangs up the phone with you. “Ready for some field work?” 
“You know it, LT.” 
-
Johnny’s heart is thrumming happily the entire way there, something about the late night adrenaline and knowing you are on the other end of this excursion. He’s fine in the passenger seat, even if Simon’s driving is enough to give a civilian a heart attack. Johnny can tell that Simon desperately needs the control right now, his knuckles white where he grips the steering wheel, eyes dark and glued to the road except when he glances at Google Maps on his phone every now and then to be sure they are heading in the right direction. 
Johnny hasn’t driven since the accident. He could, likely, but it would be hell on his sore leg. Maybe after he heals more…
By the time the two of them arrive, it is threatening to drizzle, the wet sapping the warmth out of the air. He’s glad he brought his jacket, already shrugging out of it to give you, memory vivid with the skimpy little dress you were wearing when you left the house, the one that bared your legs even while it covered you from shoulder to wrist. 
They spot you leaning against the brick wall outside the bar, sipping your water bottle. They pull up to the curb and Simon reaches for the jacket, abandoning Johnny inside with a firm, Stay Here. Johnny watches from the passenger seat as Simon slips the jacket around your shoulders and takes the water bottle. You are clearly unsteady on your feet (those shoes don’t help, bonnie though they are), and Simon gets to loop his arm around your waist to guide you to the car where the hazard lights are flashing ominously. 
Johnny rolls down the window. 
“Hey lass,” he says. 
Your face lights up at the sight of Johnny. You put your arms through the window and wrap them around him, smelling faintly of your perfume and sweat and Johnny’s own jacket. 
“Alright,” Simon says dryly. “Wrap up the reunion. It’s about to rain.” 
“Come sit in the back with me,” you breathe, breath smelling of sweetness with the underlying tinge of alcohol. Whatever you had been drinking tonight had been strong to have you so out of sorts. Your fingers tangle in Johnny’s shirt a little, tugging. “Please, Johnny? Sit in the back!” 
“Alright, alright,” he agrees with a laugh, even though it is painful to get out of the car and into the backseat, and there isn’t as much room back there for his leg to stretch out. He’s afraid that he might do anything for you if you asked him like that: looking at him with your guileless eyes, fingers tangling in his clothes, moonlight like liquid silver on your skin. 
He slips into the backseat with you and has to help you buckle your seatbelt when you can’t get the clasp closed. Johnny feels Simon’s eyes on him, heavy and dark through the rearview mirror. He meets those eyes and gives a nod. He knows that you're drunk; he doesn’t intend to make any passes at you. 
He just doesn’t expect the passes you make at him. 
Cuddling up to his side, you slip his arm around you and meld into him, careful of his bad leg. It’s hard not to be half in love with you when you treat him like this: with such care, even when you’re three sheets to the wind, but never like he is broken. Never like you doubt his masculinity. You look up at him, forehead briefly brushing against his jaw. 
“Did I wake you up, Johnny?” you ask him, soft and sweet. 
“Aye,” he says. “From good dreams, too.” 
You groan. “I’m so sorry. I knew I should have let Alan drive me home.”
“Who the fuck is Alan?” Johnny asks with a laugh. 
“Forget it,” you mutter sleepily, burrowing against him. His jacket slips off of one of your shoulders, and he has to stretch to replace it. 
He thinks you’ve fallen asleep when it happens: your mouth brushing against the juncture where his shoulder meets his neck. He goes still, eyes flickering to Simon in the rearview mirror (he is dutifully watching the road). Was that an accident? Were you asleep? His every cell seems attuned to yours, to the quiet even breaths you draw in, to the warmth of your body pressed flush against him, to your bare legs stretched out beside him changing lights thanks to the passing streetlamps. Then it happens again: your lips brush against his throat, this time with more intention.  
Johnny can’t help but tilt his head to give you more access, his eyes falling shut, full mouth parting around a longing sigh. Even as his body encourages you, his words seem to carry a threat to them. “Lass, you shouldn’t.” 
You hum and press a kiss there, soft and chaste as anything. The next one though is burning with the warmth of your tongue, and Johnny groans softly, unable to stop himself. You match the sound with a whine, shifting in your seat. Uncomfortable, he realizes—because you’re wet. Because you’re searching for friction on your needy little cunt.
“Fuck, you don’t know what yer doing to me,” he whispers roughly. 
“Johnny,” Simon says, an audible warning rumbling in his tone, eyes now watching in the mirror as often as he dares take them off the road. 
You slur something, but what it is and who it is to is lost in your drunkenness. The hand of the arm you had slipped around him finds a way to his belly, resting against his abs, rustling his shirt upwards a little as you cop a feel. 
Johnny half-heartedly takes your hand away, tries to lace your fingers with his own but you are single-minded in your desire to touch him. 
“This is hardly fair,” he says, his breathy laugh turning into a groan when your fingers brush against one of his nipples by accident. Your fingers finally find the way beneath his shirt, your touch chilly and soft against his heated skin as you stroke along the trail of hair just beneath his navel—
Simon hits the breaks hard, jostling you both in the backseat. The seatbelt locks for a moment and is pulled tight across Johnny’s chest, the lap belt scraping against his hard on in a way that has him hissing.
You lean forward, blinking owlishly. “Did we almost hit somethin’?”
“No,” says Simon. He deadpans: “Just traffic.” 
The road is empty. You find this hilarious, laughing until tears are in your eyes. Even Simon can’t help the effect your laughter has on him; he seems to sit taller in his seat, his hands gripping the wheel with less anxiety, the lines at the corners of his eyes growing as he fights a smile. 
Johnny lets out a chuckle too, one that is more of relief than anything. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but the last thing he could let himself do is take advantage of you. Nuzzling against the crown of your head, he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. His erection fades alongside your laughter, and the rest of the drive passes in silence. 
They pull into the parking lot of the apartment building at half past two in the morning. 
“Can you walk, love?” Johnny asks.  
No response. Your eyes are closed where you lean against him, mouth parted in a silent snore. 
“Fast asleep,” he tells Simon, brushing his fingers against your temple in an apology when you flinch a little at the sound, eyes fluttering open before settling back into sleep. 
“This is getting out of hand,” Simon says simply. In the mirror he looks tired…and maybe it is just a trick of the light, but he looks sad. “You need to talk to her.” 
A beat of silence. 
“Don’t you mean we need to talk t’her?” Johnny asks. 
Simon doesn’t answer. 
Outside, it begins to rain.
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nelle-y · 8 months ago
Note
I loved your recent Alhaitham fic! I was wondering if you would consider writing a pt. 2 where Alhaitham regrets how he treated you and attempts to win you back (maybe 4ggravate finds out and attempts to help Alhaitham to win you back)? I understand if not. Thank you for sharing your writing!
Thank you so much for liking my first fic! Feel free to request anything genshin-related and I’ll try my best to provide!
You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath (pt. 2)
It was rare, I was there
Here’s part 1!
Synopsis: despite the neglect and everything that happened, you both still longed for each other…
Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, wingmen!4ggravate, implied Dehyarzad, Collei, absent Cyno, Tighnari, second chances, writer!reader, angst to comfort, reader is with someone else
Warnings: slight cursing, long intro again (I can’t help it), mild spoilers for Sumeru archon quest chapter 3 act 2, Collei goes missing
Note: this part can be optional for you. If you prefer to end it at part one, then feel free to do so! But, if you’re a sucker for second chances (like me), then consider this a treat from me to you!
Nothing. You could hear nothing.
Not your heart pounding to the rhythm of your feet. Not the screaming in your head as you spotted familiar grey hair walking around the city. Your thoughts immediately tasted bitter—if he had the time to walk now, how come he hadn’t back then?
You surmise that you weren’t worth the step.
The weight of his absence hung over you like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over the warmth of the day. Despite your efforts to push the pain aside, it crept back, heavy and suffocating. Your mother's words echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain, a reminder that perhaps you had been foolish to invest so much in someone who couldn't reciprocate your love.
The shops were as busy and ever; merchant services, inquiries about products, scholars out in the open. You were out for groceries, almost ashamed for showing your face after the scene you caused 15 days ago. The world needed to know you were strong, though, so you put a big smile on your face and a new perfume worth Alhaitham’s salary. You even reached out to Cyno about the book you mentioned; so far, everything has been accurate, according to him.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice called to you. Turning your head in that direction, you see Dehya in the distance waving at you. Once you’ve said hello, she looked at you with a smirk on her face, “Wow, did a flower barf on you? You look radiant!”
“Radiant?” You humble yourself, “I don’t remember putting on any jewelry.”
“No, silly!” She gestured to your everything, “There’s this aura you’re emitting and it’s making you glow!” Glow? All you did these past few days was cry, eat, and write. Perhaps it was the tears that helped. They irritated your eyes so much it gave you a softer, more approachable look. “Do you think you could lend me some of that eyeshadow?”
Try crying every hour, Dehya. “Ah, I just did a favor for a friend studying cosmetology. I’m not entirely sure what products they used,” you lie. Thinking about Alhaitham will certainly eat you alive; you change the subject despite the flattery you enjoyed. “What brings you to the city?”
Enthusiasm spouts from the mercenary, “My lady Dunyarzad invited me over for the Sabzeruz Festival; and you know me, I gotta be there for my lady!”
You found it adorable—almost enviable—how they still keep in touch even after Dehya’s resignation. Call a spade a spade, that is real commitment. It makes you wonder if you’d be here, ‘radiant’ and ‘glowing,’ if you were treated that way.
“The Sabzeruz Festival? I didn’t realize it was so close. Wow, time surely flies.” Suddenly, you feel excitement rush through your veins, a new experience after days of steady tides.
“Couldn’t agree more,” said Dehya. From a distance, you both heard Dunyarzad call her name. “Ah, it looks like she needs me back there. I better go check on her. If you want, you should totally come over the bazaar once the festival is ready. Dunyarzad and I would be lucky to have you celebrate with us!” After you gave an accepting nod and farewell, Dehya ran off to the woman in purple, practically skipping on her feet.
As you watched their lively interaction, a surge of envy and longing swept through you. Their easy camaraderie and genuine happiness a stark contrast to the emptiness and loneliness gnawing at your insides. You had longed to experience that kind of connection, to be enveloped in the warmth of love and companionship once more. But deep down, you knew it was a distant dream, a fantasy you could never reclaim.
You weren’t a religious person, but out of sheer desperation, you prayed.
Lesser Lord Kusanali, please free me from this torment. Let the flowers in my garden bloom of life, let the fruits grow ripe even without much sun, let the trees reach the highest of buildings.
Simple greetings and little nods, Alhaitham wouldn’t have minded if those scholars were you. In fact, instead of returning those nods and hellos, he would embrace you, lift your feet off the ground and spin you around like you always wanted.
After you stormed out the tavern, Cyno went ahead and asked what happened to the both of you. For the first time, he couldn’t give a straight answer. Every excuse seemed to damage your image, and that was the last thing he wanted. Kaveh ended up taking over to save him the embarrassment.
The 15 days he burned for you were like falling into the abyss, fighting every day to the brink of death, unable to eat the sustenance that came from your warmth.
The now Scribe Alhaitham needed something to keep you off his mind. He considered attending a meeting, but none seemed to pique his interest. Every thought ended up on your doorstep, making him think of dropping by. “Kaveh,” he called the architect scribbling on his notebook, “have you seen Y/N, as of late?”
“No, she hasn’t been feeling well these past few weeks. Shouldn’t you be in a meeting?”
“Shouldn’t you be paying rent?”
Kaveh cursed at Alhaitham, “I’m trying to make the money, goddamit!”
“Maybe you would have the money if you stopped settling for your clients’ low budgets.”
“Is it hard to find me considerate?”
“I’d rather call it pathetic.”
“Go catch whatever Y/N has,” he shooed Alhaitham away, “maybe that would give you some perspective.”
The scribe stood silent for a few seconds. He knew his roommate was right, he should’ve thought about how you felt before anything. Kaveh was about to believe he had won a squabble for once, but then he suddenly revealed, “Y/N… is angry at me.”
Kaveh pshawed at him, “With the way you talked to her? No shit.” Alhaitham didn’t move an inch. “Hey, what happened there, anyway? It wasn’t like Y/N to burst out to you like that. Are you hiding something?”
With a sigh, the grey-haired man decided to reveal everything to his roommate. He listened intently, gasping and scolding him for his lack of attention towards you, adding salt to his open wounds. Upon recalling the words the scribe had said, Kaveh took a slight breath, “You fucked up.”
“I know.”
“You need to go fix this.”
“I know.”
“And you were calling me pathetic!”
“I know! I just-“ he couldn’t believe he was saying this. “I need help.”
As he was popularly known, Alhaitham wasn’t one to ask for help. Not because he had too much pride, but because he knew how to solve things like the back of his hand. He had access to numerous files from the Akasha, and he had connections to powerful people, being the scribe and all.
But this was a different situation. Every solution did not guarantee a 100% success rate, 87% at best, and that was not enough for Alhaitham. He was ready to do anything for you, to get on his knees and raise you to the highest regard, to even beg.
“I could ask Tighnari,” Kaveh began, “The Sabzeruz Festival is coming soon, maybe you could ask her out?”
Right, now that he’s perceived as a hero of his nation, he is expected to attend these festivals. He never bothered to come before, and he wouldn’t now, but he was willing to if it meant getting to see you again. “I don’t think she’ll be accepting me as her date.”
“Then we’ll talk to her.”
“Will she be willing to listen? Wait, isn’t she sick?”
Kaveh sighed, downhearted, “Right.” Then he clicked his fingers at the scribe, “I have an idea!”
“Collei? What are you doing here,” you said after opening your door. She drew a small grin with worried eyes, holding a box of goods for you. It’s been a while since you saw her, she grew up well, taller since your last meeting.
“Hello, miss Y/N! I heard from Master Tighnari that you weren’t feeling well,” yes, you distinctly remember lying to them (Tighnari, and Kaveh) so they wouldn’t see you as often. “So I thought I could bring you simple remedies.” The little girl observed you. “But now I think there’s no need for that,” she chuckled.
“Ah, yeah, don’t worry, it was just a small cold. Speaking of Tighnari, how come he isn’t here with you?” You ushered her in and sat her down for some tea, placing her box of medicines on the counter.
“He had some business to attend to with a merchant and allowed me to visit you. It’s been a while since you’ve travelled to Gandharva Ville, miss Y/N, do you have any plans on visiting?”
“Yes, I’m thinking of basing the rainforest as the main setting for my new book, actually.”
You both chatted about everything you could as you waited for the water to boil. Afterwards, you served a hot teapot, dwelling in mint and lotus herbs. “Ah, Collei, how long are you and Tighnari staying in the city?”
“Just for three days, though I would like to stay until after the Sabzeruz Festival,” she chuckles, holding her now warm cup in her hands.
“You could come with me if Tighnari would allow it.”
The little girl’s eyes beamed with stars, “Really? Oh, I’ve been dreaming of going to one for ages! Miss Nilou will be performing, right?” You nod to her delight, “Yes! Archons, I really hope Master would let me.”
As if he heard his name, Tighnari knocked on your door. Opening it, he looked glad seeing your healthy state. “Y/N! Good to see you’re feeling well now.” He peaked behind you to see Collei sip from her cup.
Upon recognizing her master, Collei got up and greeted him. “Hi, Master! Miss Y/N and I were just talking about the Sabzeruz Festival, and that I could come with her to see Miss Nilou perform!” Her enthusiasm was as contagious as a cold, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“As long as it wouldn’t be a hassle for Y/N, and that you would always be careful when purchasing products,” Tighnari worries like a mother. “Always look at the expiration dates, check if there are anything you’re allergic to.”
He goes on and on for about 5 minutes until you cut him off, “Alright, alright, Tighnari, it’s not like she’ll be going all alone; she has me with her!”
With this, Collei wrapped her arms around your waist, ever so thankful for your support. You thought of her as a niece, and she thought of you as an auntie, willing to give her advice on anything, trivial or not. After a few more words exchanged, and details for the festival, the pair decide to head to their cottage.
For once, you enjoyed your time and not think of Alhaitham once!
Oops.
It was the day of the Sabzeruz Festival; you had already picked Collei up from their cottage and are on your way to the Grand Bazaar. You could see thousands of attendees, travelling merchants, and familiar faces on the way.
As the vibrant colors and lights of the festival unfolded before you, the once a source of excitement and anticipation now loomed before you like a daunting reminder of what you had done. Despite Dehya's invitation, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of joyous revelry. Each smile, each laugh felt like a dagger to your already wounded heart, a painful reminder of the love you had lost and the embarrassment that now consumed you.
But this was no time for dwelling upon the memories that brought misery, remember, Collei is counting on you to give her a good time.
“Y/N, Collei!” You spot Kaveh in the distance waving and walking your way. Collei happily waved back. “I’m so glad I could run into you guys, you have no idea how terrified I am of meeting a client by accident.”
You laughed, “Do I have to accompany you, too, Kaveh?”
“Actually, I was thinking of letting you have some fun while I take care of little Collei here.” He ruffles her neatly-done hair, now messy but more natural-looking. This led Collei to bring out a small comb to fix it.
You felt irresponsible leaving Collei in someone else’s care, you’d said you would take care of her, and it felt like you would be breaking a promise if you agreed to his offer. You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know, Kaveh, something feels wrong about that, no offense. Plus, if something were to happen to Collei, we wouldn’t hear the end of it; you wouldn’t like Tighnari when he’s angry.”
“A fair point, but you’ve been locked up in your house for two weeks, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. You deserve to be out there, butterfly, spread the wings you grew from being in that cocoon!”
That somehow felt too specific. Does he know something? Collei starts to agree, despite seeming so excited to go with you. “Even you, Collei?” You sigh, “Fine, but if something happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You weren’t expecting to have so much fun here. The lights, the music, even the people were a blast! At first you were anxious for Collei, checking in from time to time, then as you continued to do so, your vists would be more spaced apart. You drank some punch with Dehya and Dunyarzad, who seemed to be doing really well for themselves, then you danced with the crowd in the name of Lesser Lord Kusanali.
After all of that, it was time for one last dance before Nilou’s grand performance. The band began to play a soft, romantic folk song. “Alright, Sumeru City,” called the lead singer, their voice sonorous with seduction, “before we settle down for the reknowned Nilou, let’s have a little treat for all the couples out there. So, grab your partner and dance along.”
Just as you were at the height of excitement, everything seemed to come crashing down again. You stood on the sidelines, feeling lost and out of place. Dehya and Dunyarzad swayed together, hand in hand. A lot of other couples came together and danced. The passion embedded in the song they sang only made you feel more alone, the walls of the Grand Bazaar growing taller and taller as you gazed upon them in longing.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, a man you don’t remember meeting. “Excuse me, miss, could I trouble you with a dance?” He looked about your age, a nice smile and an energetic demeanor. You were cautious of his intentions, though. It’s possible to have fun while maintaining a distance, right?
You accepted his invitation, all of the sudden you felt a sick knot in your stomach, like you were cheating on Alhaitham. But you weren’t together anymore, why would you stop yourself from meeting new people?
The man said his name was Hafan, a mercenary from the Corps of Thirty. He offered to buy you a drink once the dance was over, and again, you gladly accepted while the sweat in your palms said otherwise. You talked with every step you took, getting to know each other and telling stories. He made you laugh—a lot—and you impressed him with your witty comebacks. Perhaps this was the Dendro Archon’s response to your prayer? A hand to guide you through the maze, and to help you believe in love again?
But just amidst the merry atmosphere of the festival, a lingering anxiousness settled within your stomach.
Then, you saw him.
Alhaitham stood in the corner of the room, the desperate merchants and harmonizing of the band seemed to die down as time stood still. The vibrant colors faded into shades of grey as your heart clenched with a mixture of dread and longing.
It was as if a gate had opened within you, unleashing a torrent of emotions you had struggled to contain. Guilt gnawed at your conscience, regret tore your chest open, and love gave your heart to him.
As Hafan twirled you gracefully across the makeshift floor, you held your gaze with Alhaitham, your heart torn between the past and the present, between what was and what could’ve been.
Maybe you had been thinking too rashly, maybe he had changed over the course of your absence. The way he looked at you with such burning could not make you think otherwise.
In that moment, with all the crowds in the festival and the ache of your fractured heart, you knew for certain—no matter how hard you deny it, no matter how fast you tried to run, you could never escape the grasp he had on your soul.
The dance had ended, though it felt like it just started. Before Hafan could get that drink he promised, you said, “I’m sorry, Hafan.” He looked at you in confusion. “You must be looking for someone to—I don’t know—spend the rest of the festival with, and I don’t think I can fulfill that position. You’re a sweet guy, truly, I’m just not in a good place for anything right now.” Archons, you sounded ridiculous. But to your suprise, the man hardly took it personally.
“It’s okay, I get it. I had fun with you tonight, Y/N. You’re a great person to be around.” You almost regret having to end your time with him. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” He gave you a nod of farewell and left your side.
You looked in the direction of Alhaitham, again, hoping to catch that feeling of familiarity, but you had found he was no longer there. Perhaps it was your imagination.
You then searched for Collei and Kaveh, but they were nowhere to be found. They weren’t near the stalls, or in front of the stage.
They were nowhere in the bazaar.
The panic you felt shook your entire foundation, the pillars that kept you from going back home, back to the pain.
What if they had been kidnapped? You trusted Kaveh’s words, that he would take care of her, but for all you know they could be in the middle of the desert right now! What if Kaveh had run into a client and got distracted? What if Collei got injured or hospitalized?
Your heart began beating in your ears, your breath hastened with every thump. The air seemed so thin in the enclosed space, you needed to go outside. Yes, perhaps you could have a better chance at finding them out there, too.
As you walked out the doors of the Grand Bazaar, Collei’s name immediately echoed through the night. “Collei!” After numerous calls left with no answers, lumps of tears began crawling down your cheeks. “Oh my archon,” you sobbed. You could imagine the look on Tighnari’s face, the worry, the anger, the disappointment.
The feeling of losing them was clawing to your soul, like a mother bird losing her chick after their first flight. If they go missing, it was your fault. That fact will forever stain your soul, haunting your remaining days until the sweet release of death.
You sat on a curb, just near the entrance of the bazaar in hopes that the little girl and the architect would return unharmed. More tears had revealed themselves as your thoughts grew more and more intense, terrorizing, even.
The streets were so quiet, only the music from the festival and the first chirps of the crickets seemed to fill your ears, your sobs excluded. No guards or matras were present with you. Who the hell was in charge of security here!? The starry sky brought a comfortable cold instead of blazing heat.
You then heard footsteps from the bazaar and a person sitting beside you. “I walked them home,” a gruff voice sounded, “Collei was getting tired.”
Just your luck, the man who sat with you was no other than Alhaitham. Despite the conflicting emotions that came to you in a flash, you were relieved that Collei was safe. You let out a heavy breath. “Thank you,” you sniff, brushing away the tears that stained your face.
It was quiet again, for a while. You could hear Nilou’s music from outside; “Collei would’ve loved seeing Nilou dance,” you thought aloud. “I remember her basking about it when she had just became Tighnari’s pupil.” Suddenly, you felt calmer, safer now that the eerie silence accompanied you with the presence of the man you knew as well as breathing.
Alhaitham couldn’t say anything, busying himself gazing upon your eyes and your weakly pulled smile. There was still sadness lingering within them, covered by a coating of relief. He felt remorse for taking Collei away from you, for making you worry like this, for leaving you in the dark for a long, long time. Nonetheless, he was happy it led to you talking to him again. He was almost certain this day would never come.
Then he is reminded of you dancing with another man. His heart pounded erratically against his chest, each beat echoing the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within him. He had come to the festival in search of hope and redemption, a fleeting reprieve from the pain that chewed up his soul. But instead, he had found more heartache, contrary to the plan.
As he watched you twirl and sway with the man’s hand in yours, he felt as though the world tilted off its axis, leaving him teetering on the precipice of anguish. How could you be dancing so freely with another when every fiber of his being yearned to hold you so close, to feel the warmth you gave him once more?
His hands clenched into fists against his knees, his jaw tightened with unexpressed emotion. He remembered how badly he wanted to look away, but the flow of your hair and how gracefully you moved wouldn’t let him, it was as if you had casted a spell upon him, forever tormenting him to stay on the sidelines, to repress the overwhelming desire to be the one twirling you around and making you smile.
A surge of conflicting emotions washed over him—a searing pang of jealousy intertwined with a profound sense of regret and longing. Then just when he was ready to cross the bridge that separated you, he felt a small tug on his darkened cape. “Mr. Scribe Alhaitham,” Collei said meekly, sheepishly rubbing her eyes, “Did the plan work?”
He remembers Kaveh’s words, so filled with determination, She’ll do anything for Collei, so if she asks to go to the festival, Y/N will for sure accompany her! Once the slow dance starts, that’s when you’ll swoop in and declare your love.
And if it doesn’t work?, the scribe raised his eyebrows.
It will! I’ll make sure no one gets near her.
Boy, did that plan go to shit.
He gave the little girl a soft smile despite the mind-numbing pain in his chest. He knelt down to her level, “Isn’t Kaveh supposed to be with you?”
“Someone was talking to him just a while ago. It seemed pretty heated, so I slipped away when I got the chance,” she yawned.
“Of course,” Alhaitham muttered. Must be a client of his. “You look tired, Collei.”
“I think I’m ready to go home now, Mr. Alhaitham.” The drowsiness in her eyes could barely hold her awake. It was getting late, she must not be used to staying up at times like these.
Alhaitham looked back at you, wondering if you were still keeping your eyes on him. To no avail, it was like you had vanished like a ghost with the beautiful, painful sight he had witnessed along with you. A heavy feeling lingered in his chest, leaving him to wonder if you would lock your gaze with him again. Then he left, accompanying Collei back to her and Tighnari’s cottage.
On his way back to the bazaar for reasons unknown, he found you weeping in your hands, curled up like a shriveled bug beaten down, calling out Collei’s name. After he assured you of the little girl’s safety, you began talking about your experiences with her. Ever so glad, he listened to your voice, melodious and soothing like a lullaby to put him to sleep. The euphoria he experienced was one like no other, it was the first time he felt at peace for eons against the stars and the cool breeze. Then, he wondered, were you feeling the same?
“They found a new Grand Sage,” he announced.
“Is that why you have the time now?” Your words stung his morality, picking on the weak scabs of his mistakes.
He took a moment to respond. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
Unable to meet his gaze, you managed a casual tone, “I know, Alhaitham.” His name sounded like a song whenever it came from your lips. “Besides, it’s not your fault.” Your voice was then hoarse of emotion, fingers picking at the dirt beneath you. “I shouldn’t have let myself to get lost in my own thoughts.”
“But I should’ve been there for you,” Alhaitham insisted. “I should not have made you feel like you were alone.”
“But it happened anyway.”
For a moment, silence enveloped the space between you, only broken by the distant sounds of the festival. Then, slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, in a light that had no remorse, for the first time since you told him to leave.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you admitted, your voice trembling with uncertainty. “But I do know I’m willing to try.”
With this, Alhaitham took you in a warm embrace, letting out a shaky breath as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He then held you by the shoulders, teary as you released him from this torture. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right again.”
As you looked into his eyes, you found the sincerity in his voice, determination reflecting upon his irises. Despite everything that had happened, you couldn’t deny the hope that ignited in your stomach. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to find your way back together.
You held his hands first, then traced your way to his cheeks, warm with anticipation. Then you pulled him into a kiss that was long overdue, Alhaitham almost tumbling from the force you had exerted.
As your lips meet, there is a softness, a tenderness in the way they press together, as if each touch carries the weight of a thousand whispered promises. Time seems to stand still as you both lose yourselves in the sensation, senses heightened by the intoxicating blend of warmth and desire. It's a symphony of sensations—a gentle caress, a fleeting brush of lips, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes without a single word. And in that fleeting moment, you find solace, connection, and a sense of belonging in each other's embrace.
Slow as the breeze blew your hair, everything froze and only he brought the fire to relieve you of your vains. Alhaitham’s lips were soft and cold, clearly waiting for this day to come. When he leaned back for air, foreheads connected together, you breathed, “I love you.”
As you heard the crowd’s applause from a distance, as if cheering for your reconciling, he replied, “I love you more,” before pulling you in for another well-deserved kiss.
—the end.—
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ifancyharry · 4 months ago
Text
Close As Strangers
what it is: Harry has been away for six months and YN wants to move on - based on Close As Strangers by 5 seconds of summer!!
word count: 4k+
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Harry hurried down the hallway all the way to his room, sliding the key card against the key-reader, unlocking the door and pushing it open with his palms pressed against it.
He quickly removed his shoes, tossing them near the door, before plopping down on the hotel bed, his back against the headboard.
He fished out of his skinny jeans his phone, grimacing at the screen that read 3 missed calls from ‘Angel <3’.
He sighed as he unlocked it, typing hurriedly the number he knew by heart on the keyboard, and putting it on speaker, too tired to hold the phone to his shoulder for the call.
He waited for her to pick up as he listened to the incessant ringing of the line.
“Pick up, pick up” he whispered, biting at the skin of his thumb to suppress his sighs.
He knew he was late. And he felt like he could only imagine the disappointment YN felt when he didn’t answer her call.
He and YN had picked out a specific time throughout the day where the both of them had to be available. No matter what the other was doing, at 7 o’clock they had to answer the phone, which was a pretty understandable rule, and Harry had found it easy to comply to it at first, excusing himself to take a call or getting covered by his band mates if he couldn’t make up an excuse quickly enough. But with time, his schedule had gotten really busy.
And he sometimes missed her calls.
He wasn’t the fresh out of XFactor sixteen year old he’d been when they first started dating. He was Harry from One Direction now, and despite him feeling as the same shy guy that worked in a bakery, life around him had changed, and with it, his relationship.
He knew how she was; he knew she wasn’t answering because she was upset. And Harry really didn’t blame her, but he just didn’t find it reasonable to be upset (“stubborn little thing! — he’d say, once she had calmed down and answered the phone — It doesn’t benefit neither of us if you don’t pick up ‘cause you’re mad!”).
He rolled his eyes once the line went dead, and opened the text app instead, typing quickly with his fingers.
Baby pick up I wanna talk to you
After a couple of minutes, he wrote again: please
I miss you
And after that, he tried the line once again. This time, she picked up after five rings with a small “hello?”, her voice sounded croaky distorted from the phone.
“Hello angel. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”
“It’s okay”, and Harry felt her sigh through the phone, “i was thinking we should push back the calls until you’re back…”
“What?”
“I know you’re pretty busy,” she said, sternly, “and I don’t want to bother you.”
“What?” Harry repeated, and once he realised he already asked that, he cleared his voice and said: “you could never be a bother”.
YN couldn’t see him but she knew he was shaking his head. She tried not to picture the frown in his brows and the pout on his lips, otherwise she couldn’t possibly keep going.
“Things are different now—”
“No.” He cut her off, “don’t say that, angel. Nothing’s changed. It’s still us.”
“Harry” she softened her tone to make sure he really understood her, “it’s still us. — she nodded firmly to herself — I think it’s best if we stick to texting for now. It’s okay.”
“Okay… okay, if that’s - if that’s what you want. Okay.”
“It’s better this way” she sighed once again and Harry felt her breathing through the phone, her shaky breath loud in his ears as if it were his own.
“But we’re good, right? Tell me we’re good.”
“Yes, of course we’re good.”
Harry nodded, staying quiet as the words she’d just spoken lingered in the air between them. Despite being so far away he could almost feel her right next to him as she kept talking, unaware of the heavy weight he felt on his chest making it a little harder to breathe, the sudden realisation that maybe they weren’t good after all.
-
Harry:
Good luck on your exam baby xx
Harry typed the message quickly before locking his phone in his hands.
“1 minute, guys!” Paul reminded them, and for the first time in three years, Harry didn’t want to perform.
YN had a really big exam, the most important of her course, and his heart ached at the thought of not being there with her. He didn’t want to go on stage, and if he was a bad person, he wouldn’t. He would call his driver and go straight to the airport. But Harry wasn’t like that. No.
Since the beginning of his career, he always felt like he owed something to someone, because as he often said to YN, things like this don’t happen to people like him. What he meant with ‘people like him’ no one truly knows, because YN is sure Harry would be successful even if he wasn’t in the band, even if he never went to XFactor, he would have found a way to do what he loves. People would’ve known him either way, because he’s Harry Styles.
And if he didn’t… was it that bad? Wasn’t a life with her not enough to him? She often wonders that, but then she feels extremely guilty and she stops. She knows it’s wrong to think in such a way, because Harry says many times that that XFactor audition was the best thing he ever did in his life, but sometimes you can’t really control your heart as much as your thoughts.
“Harry, stop texting and let’s go!” Paul shouted, from his position on the doorframe.
Sometimes it’s though, for Harry. He tries really hard not to snap at the crew members because he knows they’re just doing their job, but he would often like to say: handle me a little bit softer, please! Because he is still human, and despite enjoying his job, he still needs to be handled gently. He’s only 19.
He obviously never says anything because as stated before, he’s had this strange feeling of owing his career to someone (no one in particular… his fans? Simon Cowell? He doesn’t know, he just knows the feeling in his gut), and he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone.
Harry throws a quick glance at him and nodds, sighing heavily as he hears his phone ding with a message.
Angel <3:
Can I call you, please? I don’t feel good
“Harry, I said let’s go.” He said once again, walking towards him and taking his shirt in his grip, tugging on the sleeve a bit.
Harry grimaced a little at the thought of not answering YN’s text, but he hadn’t opened it, so he guessed she’d probably think he was already on stage.
“Yes, yes, I’m coming!” He shrugged, tossing his phone on the couch and turning towards the door.
Paul nods and “c’mon, rockstar” he said, ruffling Harry’s hair playfully.
“Hey!” He pouted, chuckling as he bumps his arm against his.
Harry tried not to think too much about YN and her message, but he couldn’t help the pang in his chest as he walked out of the changing rooms and heard his phone ringing, the personalised ringer he set YN when he first bought the phone hitting him right in the heart.
He rolled his lips in his mouth as he walked towards the stage, the image of YN all alone at home with her phone to her ear hunting his thoughts.
-
Harry:
Hey, baby, how are you? What are you doing?
seen, 10.27am
Answer meeeee
seen, 11.47am
Are you mad at me? Why aren’t you answering?
seen, 12.01am
Angel <3:
Hary.. sprry i was ouy
Harry:
Are you drunk?
Angel <3:
Jst a litle bit hahahaahah
Harry:
Are you safe?
Angel <3:
yea, wit Emma xx txt tommrw
Harry sighed heavily as he rubbed his temples, tossing his phone on the bed beside him. He closed his eyes as he tried to soothe the impending headache as best as he could. He knew he shouldn’t think like this, but he sometimes can’t help but get angry with her; they never get time to talk, and the only time he can call her, she’s out drinking with her friends. It’s wrong and he’s being unfair, of course he knows. He’s just… he feels defeated. And left out. She feels so far away, and he’s sad he can’t be there with her. Why is she drinking? Is she celebrating something? Did she pass her exam? He doesn’t even know. He didn’t even ask, really. Because he was on The Late Late Show in the morning and was already performing with the band by the evening.
So he’s aware it’s his fault, but at the moment, he just feels like being angry at her. He’ll feel guilty in the morning, and he’ll try not to think about her like that ever again, but tonight… he allows himself the feeling.
He feels sick to his stomach when he realises he doesn’t even know who Emma is. He’s been away so long she made new friends he never got to meet.
-
Harry:
I wish you were here.
Harry knows this relationship isn’t going to work. He knows it deep in his heart, the feeling has been growing deep in his belly ever since he auditioned on xfactor, and if he was a better person he would end it.
He would take his brand new (very expensive) phone, digit the number he knows by heart and just… end it.
Dump her, to say it as straight as it is.
But he can’t.
He knows it’s what’s best for the both of them, he can tell she wants to move on, enjoy life with her friends, be loved by someone who could show his love by being present, but he is too selfish to do that.
The mere thought of her with someone else kills him, makes him sick to his stomach. So what does he do instead? He looks for her in every face in the crowd, in every person he meets (and there’s a lot).
Incoming: FaceTime call.
From: Angel <3
“Hi, H” YN whispers softly as soon as he answers the call.
“Hi angel.”
“I missed you, feel like I haven’t seen y’re face in ages”
“I know”, he clears his throat awkwardly, unsure on what to tell her, “still the same pretty face” he jokes.
“No, you look…” Harry can see her furrow her brows down to the middle, “you look different… older”.
What she really wants to say is he looks… glowier? Like someone who slept for twelve hours or someone who just came back from a ten days vacation at an all inclusive resort.
It’s weird, seeing him like this, he sort of lost his edgier and childlike state.
He looks more mature, yes, but also more polished. His once fluffy and untamed hair look shiny and… styled? He certainly has hairdressers, because YN saw it from an instagram post, but she thought it was like a one time thing… not a recurring one.
She feels kind of out of place, in front of this boy - guy, more like - she hasn’t seen in six weeks.
She finds it hard to remember it’s still her Harry.
She wonders how many things he saw in these six weeks, how many things he did without her, how many new places he discovered without sharing it with her, without making her a part of it.
The awkward energy isn’t lost on both parts, and if YN isn’t afraid to show it, Harry tries all he can to keep the conversation normal. He won’t give up.
“You look beautiful as ever” he says with a grin, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
She only partially breaks in a smile, because she doesn’t want him to feel bad.
It’s not him, entirely, it’s them… it’s them as a whole.
“Everyday gets harder to stay away from you” he reiterates, “but I’ll see you soon, okay? At your birthday?”
“Yeah… okay” she gulps, her hands playing nervously with a stray thread coming off of her cream sweater.
“Soon. I promise.”
She nods and pretends she believes him.
The conversation only lasts for a couple of minutes, their hours long calls are just a memory by now, and she asks a couple of questions to pretend everything is fine and not alarm him.
But she knows he can feel something shifted between them, because nothing is as once was.
-
“I think we should head inside, love” Anne kindly said, placing a gentle and comforting hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think he’s coming.”
“No” YN shook her head firmly, in her stomach a nauseous feeling was tingling her insides; she tried to defend him with everything she could: “he can’t. He promised he’d be here. He’s coming. I know he is”
“Okay” Anne murmured, as she threw a wary look in Gemma’s direction, “let’s just wait a little bit more.”
“Yes!” Gemma agreed, “maybe his flight is late…?” She suggested, albeit with little conviction.
YN nodded her head absentmindedly, her gaze lost in the pinkness of the sky extending before her.
She had wanted to wait for his arrival to cut the cake, refusing Gemma’s offer (more like plea) to at least light up the candles to sing her happy birthday, so everyone was starving and YN had the strange feeling they were all upset. With her or with Harry she didn’t really know.
It’s not like she blamed them, the scene presented in front of them (YN waiting all day for Harry who didn’t even call to tell her he wasn’t coming; YN refusing to invite her friends because she wanted it to be just close family and she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her boyfriend) was pathetic as it was already.
She really didn’t think Harry had it in him to miss her birthday.
Everything YN could really think of was how thankful she was it was just her, Anne and Gemma. What would have happened if she had invited more people? She would have ended up looking like the fool who gets stood up at her own birthday by her own boyfriend.
They had been waiting since lunch time and it was already sunset, the now orange sky a dreadful reminder of how much time was passing and how late it was getting.
In her heart, buried deep under her hope, she knew he wasn’t coming. She knew his flight wasn’t late because he never boarded it in the first place, breaking the promise he’d made her that he’d be there for her birthday.
She tried to think about a birthday she passed without Harry, but nothing came to mind. Ever since they started dating, he’d always be there celebrating with her and making her happy on what is supposed to be a day all about her.
She tried to think how much she was willing to wait, she didn’t want to encounter in the possibility of having to wait until late night, but she knew that if she didn’t give herself an ultimatum she never would have stopped waiting for him.
“YN…” Anne interrupted her train of thoughts, once it started to get a bit chilly in the garden and the humidity was starting to get uncomfortable.
“I know.” YN interrupted her briefly, trying not to pay too much attention to the way her eyes were starting to tingle a bit, the humiliation being so bad it was starting to grow inside her like a balloon waiting to pop, “it’s okay.” She nodded, reassuring Anne, but maybe herself too - a little bit.
She shifted her gaze to Gemma, who frowned at the look on her face, “it’s okay.” She repeated, “I knew he wasn’t coming, after all, I knew.”
She could feel their eyes on her as she brought a hand up to her chest, hoping that maybe the warmth could soothe her aching heart; but nothing about her was warm.
She actually felt really cold, her hand on her chest only accentuated her panic and humiliation as she could hear her heart beat fast against her chest cage.
“I am so sorry” Anne said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly,
“We’re certainly not leaving him any cake” Gemma joked, but her humour fell on deaf ears, because neither YN nor Anne laughed. In Anne’s opinion, there wasn’t anything to laugh about, and in YN’s… well, she wasn’t really paying any attention to her surroundings.
“Let’s go inside, love” Anne repeated once again, but this time YN nodded and got up from her chair.
She inhaled a little before heading towards the door.
Once she was inside, she felt the warm air hit her cheeks, and the sweet smell of the cake cooling off in the oven invaded her nostrils.
The cozy ambience was becoming kind of overwhelming, and she wished she could just close her eyes and be out of that damn house. The house where she spent all her best days with her boyfriend. Was he even her boyfriend anymore?
She felt sick to her stomach thinking those kinds of thoughts, but how couldn’t she? There weren’t many things she cared about like she cared about birthdays, and Harry knew it all too well.
“I think I’ll just head home…” she sighed, a heavy weight on her chest was making it harder and harder to breathe.
“Don’t you want to stay? We could eat some cake and…”
“No” she shook her head forcefully, “I just need to go home, I have to wake up early tomorrow”.
“Okay, love. I’m…” Anne began saying, but she stopped herself. There weren’t many words to say to excuse her son’s behaviour.
“Just… drive safe, okay?”
-
YN felt very alone as she laid in her bed that night; it wasn’t later than 9pm, way too early for her bedtime, but she really didn’t care, at that point she’d do whatever worked to make the day end sooner.
What was worse (if there even was something worse) was that her phone hadn’t rang one time since she’d arrived home, and that meant not only Harry hadn’t shown up to her birthday lunch, but he didn’t even feel guilty about it.
That was everything she needed to know.
She’d always been convinced chasing dreams couldn’t be harmful in anyway, and maybe for Harry it hadn’t been… but for her? What about her? Was she selfish for getting in the way of his dream of a life time?
All these questions ran through her head, a sharp pain growing behind her eyes from keeping in the tears for too long. They spiked against her eyes but she refused to let them fall, she had cried too long for him. This was really all she could do, but without even realising, she had started crying long before even getting in bed.
“Stop it” she condemned herself, pressing the tips of her fingers on her eyelids to dry the tears. “Just stop” she sobbed against her hands.
She doesn’t know for how long she laid there, and at some point she thinks she eventually stopped crying, too exhausted to let anything else out.
Before succumbing to a what she knew would be a troubled sleep, she grabbed her phone and typed a message quickly.
It read: we’re over.
-
When YN sent that text, she knew they weren’t over. They never could be, not without talking it out at first, and Harry… well he’s very stubborn, and at first, it was a quality she liked about him, but when he started calling her back to back until she answered, she reevaluated that.
Text from: Harry
I won’t stop calling until you answer the phone
I’m not joking, YN
Answer
We’re not over
Are we?
We can’t be
You can’t leave me like that
Answer the phone please
I can explain
It took her two days to call him. Two days of uninterrupted messages, two days of tears and an ache in her chest she tried to get rid of by eating tons of ice cream.
Her finger had lingered a while on the green call button before pressing it, but it only took him two rings to answer.
“YN…” he started, and he sort of sounded relieved, she has to admit that.
Like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
“Stop pestering me with all those messages.” She said firmly, “I don’t want to talk to you”.
“YN” he sighed once again, “please let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain, Harry! You missed my birthday” she said, and she tried really hard to keep her voice from breaking, but it didn’t really work.
“I know.” He said firmly, “my phone broke, I couldn’t… I didn’t know how to reach you… and by the time I got a new one, I had a concert and I couldn’t… you don’t know how these things work YN, I can’t just drop everything and run to you”.
She felt his words like a bullet piercing through her chest, “you’re right, I don’t know how these things work, but I still deserve to be treated with respect”
“I know. I know you do”.
Sometimes YN wishes Harry had never auditioned for xfactor in the first place. She knows it’s selfish but she doesn’t care. If that makes her a bad person, so be it.
If he’d never auditioned they wouldn’t be here, and she wouldn’t have to beg him for the respect he’d always showed her in the past.
“We really tried to make this work, Harry” she said in a soft voice, at this point all she could feel was defeat.
The whole situation was simply too hurtful to keep going.
“No. Stop. Don’t talk like that.” He’s quick to reply, and she could hear him get up from the bed she supposed he was sitting on.
“You missed my birthday! What am I supposed to say?”
“Enough with this birthday! I explained how things went already. You can’t just leave me like that for a single mistake”.
“But it’s not just the birthday! it’s… everything” she snapped, tired of him dragging a situation that’s been difficult long before he missed her birthday.
“Everything? You’re being unfair, YN. I tried with all I could to be present”
“But you didn’t! You never call, you’re always busy doing god knows what! -
“I’m working, YN, what do you think!” He interrupted her, but she started again with a scoff.
“I feel like I don’t know you anymore, H… buying fancy cars, hanging out with models… what? am I not enough for you anymore? Is that it? If you want out, why don’t you tell me? Why don’t you leave me?”
At that point she was certain she was crying, she could feel the warm tears streaming down her cheeks, but, in the confines of her home, she didn’t really care. Plus, it’s not like Harry hadn’t really seen her cry before.
She cried when she got her first A in maths Harry helped her study for (she had studied really hard), she cried in his arms all night when her childhood dog died (he had died an happy death at 16 years old, but still, it didn’t dull the pain), she cried to him when a mean guy called her four eyes in middle school and Harry had threatened to beat the shit out of him (she realised she loved him then), and she cried with him when he received the call he’d been selected to audition on xfactor.
All these times she’d cried, he had always been there to console her, comfort her, rubbing her back, holding her close to his chest, caressing her face with his soft hands. Where was he now, then? Why, after she threatened to end their relationship, he didn’t drop everything and hop on the first flight home? Why was she crying alone in her room?
A beat passed before he answered, and she wondered if he’s mustering up the courage to leave her. To finally do it. She hoped he would, quick and painless.
“I don’t want to leave you, even if it hurts, okay? You think it doesn’t pain me hearing you cry and not being there? It does. But I won’t give up on us. Even if it hurts, I’m not giving up. Are you?”
“I don’t know” she started, uncertain on what to say.
“No, you know, you know you love me. You do love me, right?”
“Of course I do” she reiterated, sniffling with her nose.
“That’s all that matters. We’ll get through this, I swear.”
It took a little bit more of convincing until YN finally gave in. She didn’t know how long this would go on for, how long they could make it last before going off like a grenade and destroying everything around them.
All she knew is this time, he didn’t even promise he’d come back to her soon. What did it mean? Is something not said as important as what was actually said?
-
After six months he’s been away, YN realises she should have left him that night. She would have saved herself so many missed calls, broken lines, fights and once again, tears.
Her desire to keep watering a dead plant ruined everything in the end.
She wanted out the very first moment he started missing her calls, she wanted to end it, and had she done it, by now she’d be somewhat partially healed, hanging out with her friends, checking his profile maybe once a week when she was really drunk.
But no.
These six months without him only alienated her and hurt her, and she’s finally mustered up the courage to leave him like she intended to.
It’s not a threat this time, as she tries to find the best words to leave him with.
She’s typing her message when her phone screen turns black for a fraction of a second and then his picture invades the screen.
Call from: Harry
“YN” he breathes out, not even letting her say hi to him, “I’m coming home. They told us today, I’m coming home.” he repeats, so many times he doesn’t even let her process this new information.
She doesn’t say anything, the words she has longed to hear for a long time now seem dull, like a cruel joke she doesn’t understand.
“You’re coming home?” She gulps, trying to steady her racing heart.
“Yes!” He exclaims, and then he proceeds to explain the logistics of his trip back home, how all the guys had begged for some time off and how the label finally agreed on two weeks of rest.
All YN can think about is how this is all too overwhelming to understand.
It’s been six months since she’s seen him.
How will it feel? Seeing him again after so long? Touching him? She feels like she doesn’t really know him anymore. So many things he did without her, so many people he met she doesn’t know and she will never be introduced to, so many new songs written, some that aren’t even about her.
She really wants to be happy, trust me she does, but all she can think about is how it feels like, by now, they’re as close as strangers.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 5 months ago
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Hello this is my first time doing an ask. Would you be able to write Trey, Ruggie, and Jamil. (Maybe Azul if you can) Reacting to there darling cooking dinner and having obviously less food than them.
I'm sorry if this makes no sense. Also I love your writing. 🐙💜 Octo heart <3.
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A Giving Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Money is tight for an otherworlder and it’s a beautiful chance that you get a roof over your head at the very least. Maybe a small but oh so generous allowance is enough for one student at Night Raven. But you weren’t a student on your own–you were only one half of the puzzle. And you’re allowance doesn’t exactly understand that Grim’s lack of control doesn’t stop past the doorway of Ramshackle. It’s not all Grim but expenses pile up and sometimes you’ll make the ultimate decision to maintain the reserves you do have. And just because you’re struggling doesn’t mean the friends you cherish should suffer…it’s just that some sacrifices are meant to be:
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Trey Clover
“Hey Trey I just wanted to thank you for all the sweets you give me, so here’s a lunch I made!”
“Wow thank you (Y/n)! That’s so nice of you. Guess that’s why you told me not bring lunch today…(Y/n)?”
“Yes?”
“Where’s your lunch?”
“Oh don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!”
“I’m buying you lunch…and dinner.”
He’s annoyed 
Because you didn’t rely on him in the first place
He was sure that by giving all the sweets he did it would convince you he was perfect to share all your problems with
But it seems your selflessness knows no bounds
And luckily neither does his love
He’s happy the science club will finally be of use to him
He just needs something that will compel you to tell him all that’s going on
Sure he can talk to Grim but then that might get the monster to start talking with others
“But I don’t need–”
“Yes you do. I have to make sure your eating! How else are you going to live long enough to be my spouse.”
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Ruggie Bucchi
“Thanks for helping me roll our jerseys, (Y/n).”
“No problem! Hey I also made you dinner I left it on the table for you!”
“T-t-thanks..”
“Yay! Dinner!”
“(Y/n)...aren’t you eating too?”
“I’m actually going to keep at it! So enjoy dinner.”
“...”
He knows exactly what your doing
He’s seen his grandmother do that same thing 
He hates that you do that
He hates how much you remind him of himself
And he knows you’re too much of a goody two shoes to do whatever it takes to survive
Good thing he isn’t 
Guess he better fill up your cabinets more often 
And have Leona pay for more of your meals
Until then he’s got no problem hazing and stealing from whoever to make sure you’re eating
“I’m not going to let you go hungry. Laugh with me!”
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Jamil Viper
“You really didn’t have to cook for me, (Y/n).”
“Seriously Jamil don’t worry about it, it’s the least I could do. You’re always cooking for us when we go to Scarabia.”
“...(Y/n) is that really all you want to eat?”
he refuses to let such a thing go 
He almost finds it insulting that you serve him without feeding yourself properly
Especially since he knows just how much you can eat
He pays attention
He’s peeved because he has access to all sorts of resources as Al Asim’s servant 
And he knows Kalim would shower you if he even caught wind of it
He knows just how little you want to share
You’re so gullible and naive he almost feels bad that he has to take control from you
Not really
“Tell me what you’d really like (Y/n)? And I want you to believe that only I can give it to you.”
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divinesolas · 8 months ago
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Sneaking around | 2
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Summary: You had thought you finally managed to repair things between you and jacaerys but he seems to have begun avoiding you again and you begin to think the worst, as your wedding approaches you decide to confront him once more.
w.c: 1.9k
c.w: porn with (minor) plot, oral (m!receiving), p in v, jacaerys is a big idiot again, two idiots in love, misunderstandings, not proofread
a.n: part one for context ! hope you guys enjoy <3
dedicated to my lovelie mootie @aegonswife <3
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in the beginning you had though you were imagining things. maybe you were just so busy with wedding prep and were so busy and were just making it up. but after two weeks you had realized that it was true. jacaerys was once again dodging you at all costs.
it was not as drastic as it used to be but you can still tell. he says hello to you but quickly makes up some excuse to be excused, he will sit next to you during dinner but will engage in conversation with anyone but you. at first you didn't notice since you and your mother had begin to prepare for the wedding, it started to dawn on you when your mother expressed that she was meeting with jacaerys at a different time other than you for wedding prep.
“he does not wish to join us now?” she could hear the frustration in your voice and sighs rubbing her forehead, “he says it would be easier to meet apart as this is when he likes to train, i had told him we could move the time but-” “he does not wish to see me.” you look down at the ground in frustration and you hear your mother sigh as she walks closer to you and places her hands on your face gently lifting you up to look at her, “he is just scared my dear i know it, you should just ask him.” “but how am i to ask if he avoids me?”
“how did you get him to talk to you last time?”
it is once again dead in the night as you wrap yourself in a familiar cloak and quietly leave you room and head back down the familiar path to his room. you are not as scared as you had been last time. you don't march with a sense of desire in your steps, instead you are angry. you knock on his door harshly this time not caring for making too much noise.
the door opens to a shocked jacaerys who looks at you alarmed, “sister did you need something,,,” his words trail off as you push past him into his room and cross your arms staring daggers at him. “you are ignoring me.”
he pauses for a moment, fiddling around with the quill in his hand. despite your anger your eyes linger down to admire him and notice the spots of dark ink stained into the long flowy white shirt he was wearing. your eyes drift towards his desk where he must have been just sitting at littered with papers, some crumpled and some full but your eyes couldn't make out what they say. he clearly notices where you’re looking and swiftly moves to stand in front of the desk blocking the letters from your view. “i have been busy-” “but you do not wish to plan our wedding with me?” “that is when i train dear sister,” “ah yes mother mentioned that, and she also mentioned that she suggested to switch the meetings to a different time and you said no.” he looks down in defeat and you scoff at his lack of response.
“i had thought you were better than most men but it seems once you had me you want nothing to do with me.” you turn around and wrap your arms around yourself as you finally let your tears of frustration run down your face.
some beats of silence pass with the only sounds being your sniffling, for a moment you even fear he’s left the room but you soon feel his hands wrap around you and his head presses into your shoulder. “sorry is not enough, begging for your forgiveness is not enough it is all my fault, but you must understand there is no universe in which i want nothing to do with you my heart you mean more to me than anything.”
you press your head against his and you feel his arms grow tighter around you reveling in his touch. “i just wish to understand you.” he presses a kiss into your neck and sighs, “i have been nothing but a fool, out of my own tasteless fear i have once again drove an unnecessary wedge between you and i.” you manage to twist yourself in his grasp to look at him, “fear?” he hums cupping your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours, “i feared that should i spend too much time with you, i would lose my self.” you pull away and give him a confused look, “whatever are you talking about?” a bright red flush covers his face as he turns away from you before he speaks, “i desire you far too greatly that i fear i cannot control myself around you.”
Ah.
An embarrassed heat flushes you as you take notice of him poking against you and you push your head into his neck, “Jace,,” “it is because i am so weak minded i cannot even act like a proper gentleman-” “Jace,,,” “i am sorry i should grovel at your feet and punish myself-” “jacaerys!” you pull away from him and shake his shoulders lightly and he looks at you alarmed. you have a smile on your face and let out a light laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation cupping his cheeks and pulling him close and give him a peck. “i am just happy my future husband desires me.”
The look in his eye completely changes when he hears you call him husband and his hands quickly move to the back of your head to bring you into a heated kiss. due to the very sudden action you gasp and he uses that opportunity to push his tongue in your move and pull you even closer to him. your hands grip the back of his head and tug on his hair to pull him away from you, his dark eyes stared at you laced with desire and need.
“Allow me to please you this time husband.” he groans as you drop down to your knees and begin to work through unlacing his pants, “you do not have to-” “i want to.” his pants hit the floor with a light thud and you grip him in your hands and press kisses up and down him. he throws his head back and lets out a strained moan as he grips your head. “my love,,” you lick and suck at his bright pink tip as he continues to wither above you. for a moment you think about the irony of it all, a future king, your future king, completely bewitched by you at your complete mercy, “please do not tease me my love.”
your inexperience shows its head as you try you best to put him all in your throat but are unable to left to simply stroke anything left. he definitely doesn’t mind as his knees almost buckle and the grip on your head grows tighter, he is a very vocal man endless praise falls easily from his lips occasionally getting chocked up by his own moans and groans. “i love you, how are you so good at this?” you let go of him with a pop and give him a smile, “i guess i just imagined this far too often as one would say.” he if realizes your mirroring his own words he does not say as much, well he doesn’t say much of anything completely lost in his own pleasure.
You too also get lost in your own pleasure. you can feel your own wetness soaking your thighs, if your hands were not stuck on him you would have brought them down to begin to play with yourself. He suddenly pulls you off him and drops to his knees, “did i do something wrong?” he quickly shakes his head and kisses you. “i simply have somewhere else i wish to spend my seed.”
he leans you on your back and hovers above you his hands eagerly pulling up your night gown leaving you exposed to him. “i would take my time with you my love but i fear i have lost all sense of control to you.” he rubs his dick against your folds soaking himself in your wetness and you push your head into his neck gripping his arms, “please please husband.”
He quickly pushes himself into you and groans in your ear, “gods you’re so amazing my love.” unlike the first time where he had started out rather slow he seems to be desperate today quickly rutting himself against you. You certainly have no reason to complain and let him have his way with you. it was odd to see the usually very composed prince seem to lose all sense of composure, acting not of a prince but like an animal, if anybody were to walk in on the two of you now it would certainly be a show.
“tell me you are close my love please.” you nod your head and he brings his hand down to play with your clit, “please please come my beautiful wife and i will spend myself in you please.” he quickly manages to bring you to your release, shaking and bringing your hands to his head and kissing him as he comes inside you.
the two of you stay still for awhile the only sounds in the room being your pants and his heaving. he slides out of you and you let out a hiss he follows with a quiet apology and lefts you up bridal style and carries you to the bed lightly placing you down before he moves to take the place next to you.
for awhile no words are exchanged between you, you lay your head on his chest playing with the fabric while you cannot seem to drop the smile from you face. he makes you so happy you can barely believe you had been mad at him in the first place. you look back at his desk and remember all the letters on it. “jacaerys?” he softly hums in acknowledgement, his hand lightly tracing your back. “what are those letters on your desk?” he freezes and brings his other hand up to his mouth to let out an embarrassed cough, you can feel the skin you’re laying on heat up. “they are vows i plan to make to you during our wedding, i am struggling a bit,,” he trails off embarrassed and you sit up to look at him, “vows?”
he scratches his neck as he gives you a strained smile, “i wish to express my love to you with words but i am struggling to put them on paper for i love you too greatly.” your heart swells and you lean down to give him a peck not pulling too far away from him before you speak. “i love it.” “you do not even know what it says.”
“i love anything you make, because i love you.”
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fuctacles · 4 months ago
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wereshifter au pt 3, but things get dumber
<<2 | 3 | 4>>
Eddie avoids the park on the next day, doesn't leave the house much at all, really, but he runs into the dog on his way out of a supermarket. He smiles involuntarily, reaching out to pet him.
"Hi, bud," he greets it, and they start the walk back to his van. But before he opens the passenger door to put the groceries there and let the dog hop in, he freezes. He looks down at his furry friend, staring at him so eagerly and with so much trust, and his heart breaks. But nevertheless, he drops his hand away from the door handle, and takes a step back. 
"Listen, man," he says, then sighs before dropping to his knees to address the dog properly and look a little bit less insane while doing it. "This is stupid," he murmurs to himself, before continuing. "I can't take you with me, okay? No more house visits. I'd love to play with you at the park, or something, but you can't come with me anymore." The dog's ears drop, like he can understand everything. Eddie continues. "Turns out, one of my friends is allergic to dog fur, so I can't have you over." He reaches out, hoping the ear scratches will be enough consolation. "I know you have a family somewhere, you should go to them."
The dog huffs almost angrily at that, but seems too happy with Eddie's petting to leave. So he indulges them both with some more scratches before he stands up, hoisting the grocery bag along with him.
"See you around?" he asks, rounding the car towards the driver seat. His dog friend follows, but sits on the sidewalk to watch him enter the van. Eddie can almost sense the betrayal behind his stare. "I know, buddy, I'm sad too," he says, closing the door. They stare at each other for another second before Eddie turns on the engine and peels off. 
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After a week, he starts missing his little trips to the park, so he substitutes with reading a book on the porch. His free hand itches to scratch behind furry ears, so he gets some peanuts to keep it occupied instead. 
He hangs out with the boys like he always does, and he spots the kids on his way there, playing with his dog friend. When he hops over to say hi, it stops in it tracks, eyeing him warily. Eddie is lowkey afraid of losing a finger but approaches the dog anyway to give him a friendly (but not overly so) scratch.
"Hi, bud. Having fun?" he asks, and the dog presses more into his hand. "Okay, okay," he chuckles, giving into the silent ask for pets. When he looks up, everyone's looking at them weirdly.
Yes, Eddie Munson likes dogs, fuck off. 
He rolls his eyes and straightens up. 
"Everyone good for Hellfire on Friday?"
Looks like he's found new friends already, and Eddie doesn't have to worry. 
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"Hello?" 
"Steve! Hi!" Eddie perks up to the voice in his receiver. It feels like years since the last time he's heard Steve. "I've scrubbed the place, and myself, clean, and washed all my clothes twice."
He hears his friend snort on the other line.
"Congrats?" Steve offers, and Eddie can feel a dry smile pulling on his lips. 
"Har, har, Harrington, I'm talking about your allergy. It should be safe to come over if you're still interested. Or, I could just..." He leans heavily on the wall, picking at his cuticles while he offers the less favorable option. "Home deliver you a few joints."
Sure, it would be nice to have a guy friend his age who went through the same horrors as him. But if said guy didn't feel the same, keeping a casual connection would be enough for Eddie. Maybe Steve had enough apocalypse-fighting friends of his own and didn't need one more, a loser super-super-senior trailer trash, too. 
"No, dude, it's alright. I've just been busy, and kinda not feeling like myself, you know?"
Eddie wants to scream. He does know. Who else would know better, who else had his flesh eaten by demonic bats from a hell dimension?
"Uh-huh," is all he offers, though. He feels weirdly similar to that time in middle school when Cindy McGee said she didn't want to dance with him. 
"I guess I just need some space?" Steve said uncertainly. "You're still invited to the end of summer pool party, of course."
Well, good to know that he could come to the party they've all promised each other as soon as both the Vecna thing and school year were over. 
"Yeah, cool, quick question though." Eddie licks his lips, his anger rising. He bumps away from the wall, ready to strike and throw the phone down. "And be honest with me, because I hate liars. Are you avoiding me?"
There's silence on the other side.
"Eddie..."
"Steve," Eddie interrupts him. "I don't want bullshit. I want to know if I should fuck off. It will suck but I will take it. Just say you don't want to hang out with me. That's fine. Not the first or the last time it happened."
Steve sighs on the other end of the line.
"I do want to hang out," he says. "But I have a lot to think about and I need some space. Is that okay?"
Eddie is close to folding down, but not close enough not to add: 
"Do you need space from everyone or just me?"
"Honestly? Everyone. But especially you."
That was such a stupid fucking answer Eddie had to bite his knuckle not to growl in frustration. 
"Okay," he spat out, proud of himself for not yeling. "Don't tell me. Reach out whenever you feel ready." He's less proud of how he slams the phone on the cradles. He feels like shit as he looks at the machine for any damage he might have caused. 
He has his answers, Steve confirmed he doesn't want to see him, and he told his dog off too. So aside from the younger members of the Party, he had only Nancy and Jonathan to talk to. Argyle too, if he was still in town. Robin was out of the question, because she would babble everything back to Steve immediately. And he wasn't ready to talk to parental figures like Joyce or Hopper yet.
Eddie takes a few calming breaths and dials another number from his list. 
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's Eddie."
"Eddie!" Dustin's voice cheers up immediately and helps him brighten up as well. "What's up, how are you doing?"
"Eh, I'm managing." He shrugs. "Hey, do you think Steve is avoiding me?" he asks straight to the point. 
Dustin groans. 
"Yes!" he answers and Eddie's stomach sinks. "But he's been avoiding the rest of us too. And he's been weird for weeks now. But I promised I wouldn't tell anything." There's a frustrated groan on the other end followed by thuds, like someone was punching or kicking something close to the phone. "You have to ask him yourself. But I will grill him, and try coaxing it out of him. Give me a moment."
"No, Dustin-!" Eddie didn't want to make the situation ever more tense than it already was, but Dustin was already off with his own plan. He realizes far too late that he might not have been the best person to call. 
He has half a mind to call Steve again with a warning but he doesn't want to worsen his position even further. It will be bad enough when he finds out Eddie sent Dustin after him. Maybe the best course of action is to let it play out with minimal input and whatever happens, happens. In the worst-case scenario, he still has his Corroded Coffin guys.
Eventually, he holes himself up in his room, waiting for the storm to pass. 
see, and i forgot to tag, just like I said I would. Anyway: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie
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