#soda was the closest to almost getting on the show

[let-the-sun-shine-on]

Not to brand myself as the

✨ survivor girl ✨

but…

Soda would be a Sam fan (he too did not try a variety of fruits until the age of 24)

Marcia would be a Rachel fan

Cherry would have had her money on Genevieve

Darrel is partial to Kyle

Pony liked Andy (and then immediately regretted it after the first episode and ultimately become at peace with operation Italy)

[jensthwa]

i was made for lovin' you (PSH x reader)

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.

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 thesis 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. 

“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.

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. 

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 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 than 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.”

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. 

You hate that it makes you smile a bit. 

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. 

You shouldn't be flirting, you really shouldn't. 

His flirting back puts you in a dangerous zone, a territory you desperately want to explore but can't. Shouldn't. 

Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed? 

Probably. 

But you do anyway. 

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 his lips into a 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, threateningly “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. 

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 in 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. 

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 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 Bonneville 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 and he 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?”

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 see 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 worn 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 he 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 at 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 welcome 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 real 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!” 

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. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[cellophanejpeg]

two is better than one | s. hanta ft. k. denki

s: What was supposed to be a night alone with Sero turns into something more once you see Kaminari is just as a freak as you are.

w: threesome, recreational drug use, smut, explicit smut, sex, smut smut smut

n: heyy, i have two more chapters left for these series, however i've reached a writer's block, so i'm not sure when they'll be posted lol. feedback is appreciated and i'll miss this story so much when it's done (i might be stalling a bit ngl). anyway, beta read by jemifiss as usual! | read on ao3

previous | next | start here

“Are you kidding me?” You whisper, stepping into Sero’s apartment.

“Sorry.” He takes the bags from your hands and closes the door behind you.

It’s been almost two months since you and Sero had some time for yourselves and tonight you thought you’d have a private moment in his apartment. However, upon entering his apartment, you notice Kaminari slouched over the living room couch. His face tells you he’s high out of his mind.

“He just showed up,” Sero explains, leading you to the kitchen.

“I thought we were gonna…” You trail off, hinting at the one thing you've been expecting all week.

“I know, sorry…” He's still smiling as he digs into the snacks you've brought.

“Are you–” you push his shoulder so he looks at you, “Are you high right now?”

Sero looks like a deer caught in headlights. His smile falters for a second, his eyebrows curl upwards, and he shrugs, getting caught.

“Guilty,” he says, giggling as if he was caught stealing from the cookie jar.

You groan, “Alright, you know what? I can come back another day–”

You're already walking out of the kitchen, ready to put your shoes back on and leave, when he runs after you, wrapping his big hands on your shoulders.

“Wait, no! We can watch a movie! Kaminari brought some brownies you used to like.” He pleads with a soft voice.

A sigh leaves your lips, shoulders sagging, “Hanta, you know I don’t do that anymore…”

When the war was over, you had to go back to school and pretend nothing had happened, which was proven to be the worst to happen. You used to have panic attacks, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t handle loud noises – one time, you even lashed out at Bakugou for yelling in class –, so Sero introduced you to edibles, as a last resort. It wasn’t until the school had started offering mandatory counseling sessions that you finally started to fall asleep without getting high.

“Okay, okay, so hang out with us?” Sero smiles at you, still gripping your shoulders tightly, “I miss just being with you… Not just fucking your brains out.” He chuckles under his breath.

You sigh again, closing your eyes.

“Fine. But if he eats all my snacks, I’m leaving.”

“Look who it is!” Kaminari exclaims when you enter the living room. You smile, plopping down on the couch beside him. Of all Sero’s friends, Kaminari is the one you’re closest to. You don’t talk to him on the regular, but you’re definitely more comfortable having a conversation with him than with anyone else in the friend group. Maybe it’s because he’s so close to Sero. Or maybe because he makes you laugh just the same. “You gotta tell me…” He slouches an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, “How big is it?”

“What are you talking about?” You frown, grabbing the remote to choose a movie for the three of you to watch.

“You know, Sero’s dick.”

You freeze, heart dropping to your stomach. Slowly, you turn your head to face Sero, on your left side. He’s drinking from a soda can when you start staring daggers at him.

“What?” he asks, noticing your furious eyes set at him.

“You told him?!” Your voice is louder than you intended, but it still makes Sero startle and Kaminari remove his arm from around your shoulders.

“I might have…” Sero brings his shoulders to his ears, slightly scared of you. He’s never seen you so angry like that before.

“Aw, c’mon, baby.” Kaminari chimes in, coming closer to your ear, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s okay.”

“I’m not embarrassed!” You argue, trying to pull away from him, “I just never thought Hanta was the type to kiss and tell.”

Sero’s eyes widen as you stand up from the couch and face him. In a quick movement, he leaps from the couch and kneels before you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your lower belly.

“I’m sorry, angel!” He whines, “I was just so happy I couldn’t keep it to myself, I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“What are you talking about?” You try to pry his arms open to be free of him, but his grip is too strong. You look down at his bloodshot eyes and something stirs inside you. Maybe it’s the way he kneels to you, the submissive look in his eyes, but you feel your face so hot that you have to look away.

“I’ll eat you out,” Sero quickly says, pushing your skirt up, trying to bunch up the fabric to have access to you, “I know it’s been a while–”

“Hanta!” You try to hold his hands, very aware that his friend is sitting on the couch, watching the scene. Your fingers desperately grip the hem of your skirt as your eyes shoot to Kaminari, who’s made himself comfortable by leaning back on the couch, sipping from his soda. He has a weird look on his face, like he isn’t shocked about Sero’s actions, “Wait– Kaminari is here–”

“He likes to watch,” Sero mumbles as he finally gets access to your underwear, pulling them down and pushing your skirt up.

“What–”

“And Sero’s always a horndog when he’s high,” Kaminari says.

Sero’s fingers slip in your folds, opening you up, his tongue following right after. You hold back a moan as realization falls on you.

“You’ve done it before?”

Kaminari breathes out a laugh, setting his drink on the coffee table and standing up. Sero pulls your underwear even further, a hand wrapping around your ankle so you lift it up, freeing one leg from the undergarment. He dives into you further, putting your free thigh on his shoulder. In a second, Kaminari is behind you, hands slipping under your shirt and tickling your waist.

“You mean have we fucked before?” He says in your ear, “Or have we shared someone? Because the answer is yes, either way.”

The thought of Sero and Kaminari – and probably someone else – in bed makes your breath hitch. You’re shocked to find out your childhood best friend is a horny bastard, but the idea turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Or maybe it’s the way Sero’s tongue rubs deliciously against your clit as his fingers nudge your entrance.

“And you know what, angel?” Kaminari whispers, licking your earlobe, “I’m also a horndog when I’m high.”

His mouth latches at your neck, giving your skin open mouthed kisses, sucking and nibbling, and you can’t hold back anymore. Sero’s fingers finally press inside you, now that you’re wet enough, and you have to hold yourself on his shoulders for balance. If it wasn’t for Kaminari’s grip on you, you’d definitely have fallen over already.

“She likes that.” Sero mumbles against you, when you squeeze his fingers inside you, as Kaminari nibbles your ear, sending chills through your skin.

“Hanta…” Your hands tangle in his hair as you slightly grind on his face.

“Say the word, and we’ll stop.” Kaminari’s hands slip under your shirt further, until they reach your breasts. He grabs them with a light grip, massaging the muscles, until he finds your nipples and pinches them softly. A whine escapes your lips, your orgasm already building inside you.

A turn from your head and your lips press against Kaminari’s, kissing him fervently, the more you feel pleasure growing in your lower stomach. You squeeze your eyes shut as Sero’s fingers curl inside you, pressing on that spongy spot that makes you go crazy. A particular twist of your nipples, combined with a suck of your clit, have you coming undone, whining into Kaminari’s mouth. Your legs almost give out, but he holds you in place as Sero stands up and grabs your chin, pulling you away from his friend.

Sero kisses you roughly, hands pulling your shirt up to expose your breasts. His rough hands squeeze your breasts, harshly pinching your nipple and making you whimper. You notice he’s more dominant when he’s with Kaminari, who’s softer and gentler. Sero’s lips leave yours so he can kiss Kaminari, only pulling away so he can pull your shirt over your head, discarting it on the floor.

“Bed. Now.” He squeezes your cheeks before pulling you and Kaminari by the wrists towards his bedroom.

Kaminari undresses his shirt on the way to Sero’s room, unbuckling his belt as you reach the bed. Sero is already shirtless, pulling his sweatpants down, and rummaging his bedside drawer. He pulls a pack of condoms from it and rips one off, throwing it at Kaminari who laughs at his eagerness. Meanwhile, you try not to think about what is happening as you take your skirt off, finally baring yourself completely to the two men in the room.

Sero lies on the bed, back against the headboard as you crawl over to him. His cock sits hard against his lower abdomen when you wrap your delicate hands around it. You stroke him, licking the tip and going slow, like you know he likes. Kaminari positions himself behind you, fidgeting with the condom Sero tossed at him, and you twitch, anticipation pumping in your veins. He lifts your hips, having your ass up, runs his fingers through your folds.

“Fuck,” Kaminari whines as he pushes inside you. You’re so wet and open from your last orgasm that he slides in easily, as he refuses to give you time to adjust to his length.

A gasp leaves your lips as Sero’s hand flies to the back of your neck, the other cupping your cheek. You roll your eyes back as Kaminari sets on a punishing pace, much rougher than you’re used to. A squeeze of your cheeks makes you refocus your eyes on the man in front of you, who watches you intensely. If you weren’t being fucked out of your mind, you’d notice the moment of soberness in his eyes.

The way your body bounces back and forth with each thrust from Kaminari, the moans that leave your mouth, the trembling from pleasure of your hands as you stroke Sero – all these details give him a weird sensation in his chest. Is he having a panic attack? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened while he was high. But, no. This is unlike any other feeling he’s ever had. He’s always wanted to be with you in a carnal way, but this is something else.

He leans down to kiss you, soft lips a contrast to the rough pace of Kaminari, and then he pushes your head down, leading you towards his cock again. He doesn’t want to feel his heart thumping for no reason. So he makes you wrap your lips around him, pushing you further, until he hits the back of your throat and you gag. Your fingers tighten their grip on Sero's thighs as you force your way out of his hold, gasping for air.

“Can't breathe!” You exclaim, wet lips and tears running down your face.

Kaminari’s thrusts falter, recognizing the look of worry in Sero's face as he cups your face again and brings you to a kiss.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Sero whispers, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your nose, “I'm sorry, angel.”

The softness in his voice would've had your stomach doing backflips, if it wasn't for Kaminari pounding his cock inside you. Prompted by a look of reassurance of his best friend, Denki resumed his rough pace, making you gasp again. Sero pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you, at the same time Kaminari does the same, fingers digging in your hips and pulling you roughly towards him. You all adjust the position, so your face is resting against Sero's chest, but your ass is still up for Kaminari. 

“Can't believe you were keeping this cunt all to yourself,” Kaminari groans, slapping your ass cheek roughly as he pushes his cock inside you again. You yelp, shutting your eyes with pleasure.

“You like it?” Sero mumbles to you, “You like when he's rough like that?”

You murmur a whine in response that he assumes is a yes. Sero cups your breasts gently, such a contrast to Kaminari's harsh  movements.

“Are you gonna come all over his cock, like the good girl you are?”

“Fuck, keep talking like that and I'm gonna come all over,” Kaminari grunts, slapping his hips on your ass.

“That's a good thing I'm not talking to you then,.” Sero barks back, and you'd laugh at their interactions if it wasn't for the fact you felt an overwhelming orgasm coming.

Then, Kaminari does something that has you almost breaking down. He presses his thumb on your back entrance, as if he's going to finger it. It's just a tease, but it's enough to make you see stars as you succumb to your pleasure, letting all out on him, on the sheets, everywhere.

“Whoa!” Kaminari laughs, “Why didn't you say you were a squirter, baby?!”

Because I'm not, you want to say, but you feel like you're going to pass out. You barely register him slowing down his thrusts and cursing as he comes, following right behind you. You just collapse on Sero's chest, trying to focus on his face. He's half soft now, and you feel bad because you don't think you can handle one more round.

“You didn't come,” you whisper as Kaminari leaves for a moment to fetch a towel so he can clean himself.

“I don't mind,” Sero whispers back.

“But–” you try to wrap your hands around him again, but he just holds it, lacing your fingers together.

“It's okay, angel.”

Before you can argue further, Kaminari is back with a fluffy towel and, soon enough, he's wiping your legs, drying as much as he can.

“Bath?” Sero asks, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“Yes, please.”

“Your wish is my command.” He kisses your forehead, hopping off the bed and going toward the bathroom.

Kaminari scoffs as he lays on his back, wiping the sweat from his forehead and sighing heavily.

“What?” You ask, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest. Not that it would do anything to hide your body from him now that he's seen everything. You're trying not to think about how you're going to face him in the next group hang out, when he answers your question,

“He must really like you. Sero's never satisfied until he's finished,” Kaminari laughs again, “And running you a bath? I mean, he gives aftercare, but he's not exactly the king of it, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Confusion is clear in your voice as you lean on your elbow to face him better.

“All I'm saying is that, every time we've been together, he's never acted like that.” He explains, “Maybe he's got a soft spot for you…”

You try not to hold on to the hope he might have the same feelings as you, but it's stronger than you. The way he's been so soft to you during this entire night has the butterflies inside your stomach going crazy. Your heart skips a beat at the possibility of you and him staying together.

“What are you guys talking shit about?” Sero resurfaces from the bathroom, still naked, leaning on the doorframe. You hold back a dreamy sigh.

“You,” Kaminari replies, a shit eating grin on his face.

Sero groans, rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Anyway.” Kaminari jumps out of the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Same time next week?”

Sero groans even louder as you bark out a laugh.

@lousypotatoes @shoyosdoll @fresa-luna @crazyvalerie1236 @siillkie

[yelenasdiary]

A silly idea, but reader dressing up as Mac and cheese to get yelenas' attention.

Drabble || A Cheesy Plan

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You try to get Yelena's attention at Nat's halloween party.

Fluff

Warnings: This is not proof-read or corrected! | 0.7K

AC: I loved this idea so much that ofc it had to be a little Drabble hehe! I hope you enjoy! x

October Special Masterlist 2024

Inside a stylish penthouse in the heart of Brooklyn, Natasha Romanoff’s Halloween party was in full swing. The Avengers along with their plus ones all enjoying a drink of Halloween themed punch while music played in the background. You had been excited for this tonight since your roommate, Kate, handed you the invite. Weeks of thinking of the perfect costume soon came down to one costume, a costume you would hope would get the attention of one particular blonde. 

Yelena Belova, Natasha’s younger sister. The woman who gave you butterflies without even noticing, the woman who surprised you with her personality and will to never sugarcoat things. Not only was she Natasha’s sister but also one of the closest friends of your roommate, Kate Bishop. Although your little crush on Yelena was not a secret to the archer who was also one of you closest friends since childhood, she teased it about you almost daily. 

“So, what do you think?” you smiled nervously as you showed off your costume to Kate. There you stood in front of your best friend in a round washing basket with a mac n cheese logo on the front, the rest of your upper body covered in yellow painted crafts in the shape of macaroni. In your left hand you held a large hand make fork. 

“Well, if you don’t get her attention now, I have no idea what you can do” Kate broke out in laughter, “I love it!” she added. 

“Do you think she’ll like it?” you asked, unsure if Kate was being honest with you.

“I think she is going to love it” the blue eye woman assured you, “come on, we’re gonna be late” she added.

As you entered Natasha’s penthouse with Kate, you took a moment to take in the atmosphere and the decorations, twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, some guests danced to the beat of upbeat Halloween themed songs while others stood around enjoying small talk with a drink in their hands. Everybody was dressed up from Vampires to late celebrities. From across the room, your eyes locked onto Yelena as she spent more time taking in the city lights of New York from the window. 

“Do you want a drink?” Kate asked, distracting you from admiring Yelena who was dressed as Billy the puppet. “A soda, please” you replied with a soft smile. Kate nodded and wandered off to the bar leaving you behind to greet other guests such as Wanda, Thor and Scott before Kate would return with your drink. 

“Thank you” 

“Go over and talk to her!” Kate encouraged. 

“I will, just not right now” you looked at your friend, “gotta play it cool” you added.

As you took a sip of your soda, Yelena turned around and locked eyes with you and with a smirk on her lips she couldn’t help but wander over to you. “I’ll leave you to it!” Kate whispered before mingling with other guests. 

“What on Earth are you wearing?” Yelena chuckled, her voice cutting through the noise around you both, “did I miss the memo? Were we supposed to dress up as food?” she added.

“Are you mac’ing fun of me, Belova?” you asked with a chuckle. 

“Me? No, never!” She smiled, “I just didn’t expect this” she added.

“One could say I’m serving looks and a side of cheesy allure” you replied, causing Yelena to shake her head playfully at you, “the puns are painful” she added, chuckling. “You’re missing one thing though” she added. 

“What would that be?” you asked with a cocked brow. 

“I’ll be back, stay here” Yelena replied before she dashed off into a different room. Your cheeks felt warm from the light, playful flirting, you were sure this was going perfectly! 

Yelena returned in no time, “here, you forgot the best part, the hot sauce” she said, carefully placing the bottle of sauce on your costume, mangling it between some of the crafted macaroni. 

“Oh, how could I forget!” 

“Now you’re the best one dressed here” she smiled, “but the longer I look at you, the more I am craving mac n cheese” she added. 

“Well, If you wanted too and I am totally down for it, maybe we could get some after the party?” you offered. 

“Sounds good to me” Yelena smiled once more.  

Taglist: @marvelfan98 | @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @itsmelulu | @axolotllover225 | @koinsss | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | @marvelnatasha12346 | @mrromanoff | @umadirectioner | @starryskiesandboys | 

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[alittlebitofloveliness]

Ticket to Anywhere

This is my Valentine's gift fic for @qprpbj You mentioned Paul/Darry in your prompt and I saw a post of yours about the lyrics of "Fast Car" by tracy chapman being Peril coded, so I wrote a songfic based on that. I hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 2760

**************

You got a fast car

It’s a cold day in February of their junior year when Paul turns sixteen and shows up in the school parking lot in a brand new AC Cobra. It’s so shiny it gleams, painted a deep blue-black colour that’s almost a match for Paul’s eyes and a perfect match for his letterman jacket. For a second, jealousy flares so strong it burns up Darry’s throat until it chokes him, because he can pretend to be one of them all he wants, but he never will be, not really. He could never afford a car like that, not in a million years, one that costs more than his dad makes in a year, easy. His own birthday had passed a few months back, and the closest he got to getting any car was dad saying he’d start teaching him to drive and that once he got his license he could borrow the truck now and then. 

So he watches, envious, as Paul shuts the door, his stupid sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and Chrissy Smythe practically throws herself at him. She might as well be drooling, though whether it’s over Paul or the car, Darry isn’t sure. In any case, it doesn’t seem to matter, because Paul extricates himself from her simpering as quickly as he can without being rude and catches Darry’s eye with a grin.

“Nice car,” Darry says, because it is, any idiot could see that. It’s the kind of car Steve and Soda rhapsodize about, the ones Darry’s sure Steve is gonna try and steal one day. 

“Thanks,” Paul grins and tosses him a set of keys, “wanna take her for a spin after school?”

His eyes are twinkling, deep blue and mysterious and soft in a way Darry knows is just for him, a deadly secret swaddled in daydreams. Just like that the envy evaporates.

“Sure.”

Paul offers him a fist bump, the tap of their knuckles the closest they can get to holding hands in public. The contact still makes his heart race anyway. 

And I want a ticket to anywhere

“Theatre tonight?” Paul asks when they’re in the locker room after practice one Friday. He’s in just his boxers, towel slung haphazardly around his neck, hair still wet from the shower. Darry is being very careful not to stare, and even more careful not to hyperventilate. He should be used to this by now, after almost three years of being on the team together, but the thing about stars is that they’re hard to look away from, and Paul has always been the brightest star in Darry’s galaxy. It makes it hard to think. 

“Sounds like a plan. Who else is coming?” Is it date night or a hangout is what he’s really asking and Paul is even more casually nonchalant when he answers.

“I invited Chase and Angelina but they’ve got other plans, and Joey’s little sister is sick so it might just be the two of us, unless you got anyone else you wanna invite.”

“Maybe I’ll ask if Carla wants to come.” He says even though they both know he absolutely won't. 

“Cool,” Paul agrees, finally putting a shirt on, a soft looking Madras flannel Darry wants to steal. They bid their farewells to the rest of the team and Darry grabs both their duffel bags as they walk side by side out to the parking lot. 

Paul lights a cigarette while he tosses the equipment into the back of the Cobra. Darry pretends he doesn’t see the way Paul is checking him out, and flexes a bit more than is necessary when tossing around relatively light equipment bags.

Then Paul tosses him the keys to the car Darry knows he should never have had a chance to drive, and tells him to go faster until they’re flying down the back roads, sun in their hair and wind stealing the laughter from their mouths. They eat dinner at a greasy spoon in the middle of town between the east side and west side, and don’t talk about it. Paul pays for everything and Darry pretends it doesn’t send a familiar wave of embarrassment down his spine, even though he knows it’s the only way Paul knows how to show he cares sometimes. 

It’s getting dark by the time they reach the theatre and they’re running later than they meant to. Paul buys two tickets to the first movie he sees listed on the board, and neither of them have any idea what it’s about, but it doesn’t matter much anyway when they reach into the popcorn bucket held between them and their hands brush.

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

“You ever think about getting out of here?” Darry asks one night when they’re lying on the grass in Paul’s backyard, staring up at the stars. It’s a bit chilly out, but Paul is warm pressed against his side, head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. He smells like fancy cologne and fabric starch and beneath that, sweat, and it’s so uniquely Paul that it drives Darry a little crazy. 

It’s a soft night tonight, just the two of them in Paul's almost perpetually empty house, his dad on another business trip and his mom back in some rehab centre rich folks call a wellness retreat. Paul is in an even better mood than usual, bright eyes almost feverish in their shine, and he’d been the one to convince Darry that stargazing of all things was a better date night activity than watching a movie. Now, he lifts Darry’s hand in his to press a kiss to the back of his palm, and hums.

“Out of where? Tulsa?”

“Yeah.”

Paul laughs, once, a bright chuckle, like a firefly in a forest, there and then gone again, fleeting and beautiful. 

“I don’t just think about it, I’m planning for it.”

“Oh.” It’s times like these that the true gulf between them smacks Darry in the face, when he remembers how truly different their worlds are. For some reason he can sit in Paul’s thousand dollar car and visit his giant house and not feel it, but then they have conversations like this and he remembers it. Paul doesn’t need to wonder about getting out of Tulsa because it’s already a done deal, because he’s been accepted to any college he wants before he’s even applied because the Holdens sit on a fortune and his mom has connections at Yale. Darry on the other hand…well, they’re not even seniors yet and he’s terrified. He already spoke to coach about extra training over the summer, and he’s been saving every penny from his job at the diner, because even if he manages a full scholarship he’ll still have to afford textbooks and board and everything else. His grades are fine for right now, but next year they need to be perfect. He needs to be perfect because he doesn’t have the luxury of second chances. He can’t make a mistake.

Paul starts talking about MIT and Yale, voice soft in the darkness, and Darry thrusts the whole thing from his mind, pressing a kiss to Paul’s lips to shut him up, because Paul is getting out of Tulsa and Darry doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance to; and because it’s clear from Paul’s rambling that him getting out doesn’t involve keeping Darry, doesn’t involve staying them, and for some reason that stings more than the thought of never getting out of Tulsa at all. 

He wants to bring it up, wants to make him promise they’ll stay together even if it’s a lie, but Paul never makes a promise he can’t keep and Darry knows asking him to tonight would be a certain kind of cruelty he doesn't have in him. They kiss under the stars and Darry wishes there was some way he could love him and lose him without it feeling like an inevitable, final, ruining blow to the chest. 

Any place is better

He shows up on Paul’s doorstep one night, just two months into their senior year, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s always been big, broad shoulders and a tall frame, and it’s a terrible mockery of the universe, that he is such a big person and yet completely and entirely helpless, small in the face of the problems of the world.

He all but collapses into Paul’s arms, and Paul catches him like he always does, warm and solid and everything he wants and has but never completely, and he wants to leave Tulsa and never come back. 

Eventually Paul hauls him upstairs to his room, and they curl up together under his comforter. Paul is everywhere, and the sheets smell like him, and slowly the tears subside enough for Darry to hiccup out an account of Soda’s bruised face mottled black and blue, of Steve’s shattered ankle, and Ponyboy’s tiny, shaking hand raising a cigarette to his lips for the first time ever and far too soon while he watched dad put stitches in Soda’s sluggishly bleeding forehead. 

He tells his soc lover about his beat up greaser brothers and he is loyal to all of them and none of them and it doesn’t matter anyway because he’s helpless. He can’t stop the violence or the hate any more than he can save Pony and Soda, or even himself,  from their side of the tracks. For a second he hates Tulsa Oklahoma so much it sickens him, a slow poison sticking in his throat and choking him, making it hard for him to breathe or cry or think.

He had to get out, he tells Paul, had to get out of that house, away from his brothers’ fear and Steve’s anger, and the resignation in Pony’s frightened eyes that at only eleven years old were far too used to far too horrible things. He had to get out, just for the night.

It’s a lie. As he falls asleep, Paul’s arms warm and safe around him, he promises himself he will find a way out of Tulsa if it’s the last thing he ever does. One day, he swears, he’ll leave and never look back.

Starting from zero, got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself, I got nothing to prove

Darry was born on the east side to a father who worked construction and a mother who worked a factory job up until he was born and every odd job she could find afterwards. He��s a blue collar boy from a blue collar family, in a blue collar neighborhood. Needless to say, he’s no stranger to hard work. Still, as he moves into his last year of high school he works harder than he ever has before. If he isn’t playing football, he’s practicing it, and if he isn’t practicing it he’s doing homework, and if he's not doing homework or football he’s scrubbing plates in the dish pit at his job. Family, friends, and a social life take a backseat, sleep becomes an afterthought, and yet it will all be worth it when he gets a scholarship- any scholarship- for football or academics it doesn’t matter, to any college that will take him. All he needs is an acceptance letter with a full ride, enough money offered that he can leave, leave the second he graduates instead of sticking around for a year and working, trying to save enough to get out. He knows better than to try, knows if he doesn’t get his ticket out paid in full he’ll never leave this godforsaken town, no matter how much he wants to, knows there will always be something else holding him back. 

For the first time since he kissed Paul back in sophomore year, they’re fighting. Paul thinks Darry doesn’t care, is pouting in the way only someone who has only ever had everything can pout, and he refuses to see Darry’s side no matter how many times he explains it. Darry’s frustrated and tired and so stupidly, desperately in love that he promises to work on it, and Paul promises to try harder to understand, and things aren’t perfect, but they’re not gone, and Darry promises himself the slight distance between them will be worth it when he wins his scholarship.

In the end, it doesn’t matter at all and it never did. None of it is worth it, because Darry gets five college acceptance letters, and two partial scholarships, and neither of them are enough. 

He’s not going to college.

You got a fast car

And I got a plan to get us out of here

“Will you come with me?” Darry asks when Paul finds him, because Paul knows, better than anyone, how much he hates this town and how badly he wanted to get out. It makes sense then, that he knew without Darry having to say it how determined he still is to go somewhere, anywhere that isn’t here, even if college is off the table.

Paul’s deep blue eyes go very glossy very fast.

“I can’t.” 

Of course. Of course he can’t, and Darry knows why, knows all about the acceptance letter to Yale tossed carelessly on his bedside table, for a program Paul didn’t even want. Knows Paul would be beyond stupid to throw it away, and wishes he loved him enough to do it anyway. 

“Ok.” Darry nods, and Paul’s hands curl into fists because he hates apathy from Darry, for all that it’s his own weapon of choice. Darry figures he loves him enough and owes him enough to end it the way Paul wants, so they fight, and Paul leaves, and it hurts as much as he knew it would a year ago, that night when he realized this was the only way it could end. 

He finishes the semester with a bleeding heart that's been broken twice over, wondering why the curse of the east side meant he was never enough, even when he was the best of them all. 

And then Paul comes back.

Been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

He has money saved is the thing. Not a lot, but enough, every spare cent from the dish pit at Al’s diner carefully squirreled away into a fund that was meant to be for textbooks and now is meant for something different, something more. It’s a lifeline, not quite a ticket out, but an escape nevertheless. 

He hands in his resignation the same day he walks across the stage to get his diploma, and doesn’t look back. 

Won't have to drive too far

Just across the border and into the city

And you and I can both get jobs

Paul picks him up, the day they’re set to leave, in the same AC Cobra he let Darry drive back when they were sixteen. 

His parents don’t understand it, but they hug him goodbye and they love him anyway. Soda is understanding, but his eyes are sad, and Pony seems betrayed but there’s a look in him that’s beyond the kind of understanding Soda always wears, something Darry thinks might reasonably be called kinship, as he pulls away and Pony tucks himself into Johnny’s side like he was made to fit there.

Darry claps Dallas on the shoulder, hugs Two-bit tightly, and ruffles both Steve and Johnny’s hair before he hefts his bag and follows Paul back to the car. There’s a piece of him that wishes he’d spent more time with his family this past year, but it’s a hollow ache of a vague could have been, and it pales in comparison to the elation that comes with getting out, of the relief that comes with not being stuck. 

“You ready?” 

Paul is as beautiful as he’s always been, those stupid sunglasses perched once again on his nose.

“Yeah,” Darry sighs, and it feels like he can relax, finally, for the first time in his life, “I am.”

There’s a map in the cupholder, creased and scribbled on, with directions to New York City, and a note in his pocket with the address of their new apartment in his breath pocket. The air smells like adventure.

“Let’s go build a life together.” Paul smiles, carefree and happy, and Darry loves him so much he can’t even really describe it. 

The car turns the corner. He doesn’t look back.

Finally see what it means to be living

[fandomnerd9602]

Fake, Right?

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader (High School AU)

For @aloneodi

“I do not!” Wanda Maximoff finds herself stating to the rest of the group she called her clique.

“It is so obvious, Maximoff” Yelena states before chowing down on her mac and cheese.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Wanda” Natasha chimes in, “(Y/N) is cute. Your best friend for so long. It’s almost like a romance story”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “What about you and Bruce?” Natasha blushes at that remark.

“Fine!” Wanda huffs, “if it pleases you all, I’ll go out with (Y/N) and I’ll prove there’s nothing there!”

“The only one you need to prove it to is yourself” Natasha snickers.

Wanda leaves her gal pals and heads over to you.

“I need you to date me” Wanda takes you by the shoulders.

“hello you too” you smile.

“Natasha and Yelena think that I’m in love with you and I need to prove that I’m not.”

“So a fake date?” You look confused.

“Yeah. Fake. Can you help?”

“Uh sure?” You find yourself at a loss for words.

“Great. Pick you up at seven” she gives you a sisterly hug before rejoining her popular friends.

You’d do anything for Wanda. She was a good friend of yours for as long as you could remember. But a fake date just seemed a little off.

Wanda rejoins her friends. Natasha giggles as Yelena rolls her eyes.

“Enjoy your evening, lovebird” Natasha giggles.

“Shut up” Wanda rolls her eyes at the redhead.

You got ready for your fake date. A simple attire set up. You wrapped your lucky Hufflepuff scarf around your neck.

A familiar honk outside your door got your attention. You walk out just as Wanda strolls up to you in her favorite red hoodie and yoga pants.

“You look better than I do” Wanda giggles

“Come on” you smirk, “you could make a 50s sitcom outfit look amazing”

Wanda actually blushes. “So where to?”

“Wanna grab a burger and shake?”

“Sure thing, Hufflepuff”

“I’m surprised you’re not wearing your Slytherin scarf” you shoot back.

“Hufflepuffs and Slytherin only cause mayhem together” Wanda socks your arm playfully.

“Then let’s cause some tonight” you laugh.

You and Wanda make your way to the local diner. Wanda just about devours her whole chocolate shake.

“It’s been forever since I had one of these” Wanda practically moans as the shake runs down her throat.

“I missed these times” you admit. “I know you got the popular crowd now-“

“I could never sideline you” Wanda interrupts. “Nat and Yelena are fun but I can’t talk with them about the things we talk about”

“I don’t mind” you shrug. “I still see you every now and then. It’s not like you’re on Mars.”

“I missed our hangouts too.” Wanda shrugs “I feel like I changed so much”

“Oh really? Favorite vinyl?”

“Florence and the Machine. Lungs. Dog Days are Over”

“Okay. Favorite show?”

“Dick Van Dyke Show”

“Favorite movie?”

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”

You smile, “sounds like the same old Wanda to me”

“Wanna hit the record shop?” Wanda bats her eyes at you.

“I was hoping you’d ask”

You and Wanda make your way to the records shop. You spend the next hour rocking out to old vinyls and just enjoying one another’s company. Wanda felt so free. No cliques. No standards. Just her and you, allowed to be yourselves.

Your last stop was the movies. You just bought the closest showing you could. The movie was terrible but laughing along with Wanda made it worth watching.

It was close to midnight when Wanda pulled up to your house. Wanda didn’t want the night to end. Something about being with you just felt right.

“I had fun tonight” you smile at your best friend. Wanda giggles in response.

“Glad I could get you out of your shell, Hufflepuff” she laughs.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it again, Slytherin. Maybe next time we could have a Harry Potter marathon”

“I’ll bring the popcorn and soda” Wanda giggles.

“Well I’ll see tomorrow Wanda.” You walk up the steps of your house. Part of you doesn’t want this night to end either. You turn and look back at the young witch.

You look at her, she looks at you. And for the second time in a long time, Wanda feels a certain longing in her heart. A longing for you to come back down those steps and kiss her.

Sadly you walk up and into your house. What Wanda didn’t know was the strong urge you felt to go back down and kiss her goodnight.

As she walks away from your house that night, all Wanda could think was of how good she and you fit together. She could spend a whole lifetime with you and never grow tired. Well Tony did have that party coming up next week. An idea was brewing in that young witch’s mind.

Tags: @aloneodi @lifespectator @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @supercorpdanbeau @scarletwitch-n7 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @kingofthelizardpeople @jacelion @family-house-of-m

[spidybaby]

New streets

Summary: Trying to find your way into the streets of Barcelona by yourself for the first time is harder than you expected.

Warnings: none ❤️

Being new to the city was complicated. You moved from Tenerife to go to college in Barcelona, accepting Pedro's offer to move with him until you find your own place to stay.

You can't deny Barcelona was extraordinary, a city that has a lot of history, it's magical.

The problem is that you convinced yourself that you can start going out on your own without instructions.

When Pedro asked you to wait for him to arrive home so you could go to the market, you say no.

You already felt like a burden, having him drive you everywhere and not being able to do the same for him.

Fer even offer to take you and show you the streets, in any other occasion you'll say yes, but today you feel smart enough to do it alone.

"Estas segura?" (Are you sure?) Fer asked a little worried about you. "Si me dejas terminar con esto, te acompaño" (if you let me finish this, I'll go with you)

"Tranquilo Fer, voy rápido" (relax Fer, I'll be quick), you say, grabbing your things, ready to go. "Quieres que te traiga una Dr. Pepper?" (Want me to bring you a Dr. Pepper?")

"Por favor," he says, smiling. "Ten cuidado, cualquier cosa me llamas niña." (Be careful, call me if anything happens, kiddo.)

Once you're out of the house, you search on Google maps the closest market.

As you make your way down the street, you enjoy the views. Barcelona is breathtaking.

You were happy with how quickly you made it to the market.

Taking your phone to message Pedro, wanting to share your excitement with him.

(I know you're training and you'll see this later, but I have to tell you something 😋

I'm at the market, I got here alone and didn't get lost)

You block your phone and continue with your shopping spree, looking for the soda you said you were buying for Fer.

Your phone takes you out of your concentration when you are reading the back of a soda can.

("Hi baby ❤️ Actually I'm done with training.

😂😂😂😂 I'm happy for you"

"Do you want me to buy something for you?"

"No baby, I'm fine.

I'm noticing you're very close to the training camp. Do you want to come over here and then we go home?")

Not completely sure about it you Google the directions to get to where he was.

The trip to the market was easy due to it being an almost straight walk. The training camp was a more complicated way.

After a few minutes looking at the online map, you decide it was not that difficult, and you could do it.

("See you in a bit, I just have to pay, and I'm on my way. "

"I'll wait for you, please be careful")

You hurried with the last items and paid on a self checkout to be quick.

You followed the instructions as the map says, but you also decide to trust a little more than you should and text your friend.

After a few minutes, you noticed you were, in fact, not where you should be. You frown as the map says it's the right way, seconds mistake trusting that. You kept walking and texting, only losing the way more than before.

Ten minutes later and a different name on the streets as the gps says you begin to worry.

Not wanting to worry your boyfriend, you text Fernando.

("Remember I told you I was not going to get lost? ... Help")

You kept walking, trying to fix your mistake, little did you know you were making it worse.

("But 🤣🤣🤣🤣 you were getting five things at the supermarket, how did you end up lost?"

"Don't laugh at me, Fernando. I wanted to get over where your brother is, and I ended up lost"

"I can't help but laugh. Where are you right now?

"I don't know")

You tried to identify the streets to be able to tell where you were, no success.

The stress was getting over you, feeling dumb.

("Calm down, what stores are near you?"

"The Mercè library"

"You're on the other side of the camp, y/n")

The frustration was getting the best of you. Texting and walking on a road you didn't know was a bad choice.

The internal debate your mind was creating over two options, one, Fernando can give you instructions on how to take a bus or something, two, ask him what to do from now on.

Choosing the second option, you kept texting him.

("Any recommendations?"

"Yes, stay there and call Pedro, ask him to pick you up, please don't get lost.")

Sitting on a bench outside the library, you call your boyfriend.

"Preciosa, ya estas afuera?" (Baby, are you outside?)

"No, amor. Estoy por la biblioteca, del otro lado de donde estas." (No, love. I'm by the library on the other side of the city.)

"Qué pasó? Estas bien?" (What happened? Are you okay?)

"Si, estoy bien. Es que." (Yes, I'm fine. Is just.)

You doubt telling him the truth.

You know you don't have to be nervous over him knowing you're lost. Pedro would never judge you or make fun of you.

"Me perdí" (I got lost)

"Ay, mi amor. Esta bien, ahora voy por ti, quédate quieta que ya llego por ti." (Oh love, it's okay, I'm coming to get you, stay where you're I'm coming.)

You hang up after a small "Thank you."

Picking a candy from your grocery bag while waiting for him.

Your phone started ringing, it was Fer.

"Hola"

"Hola, llamaste a Pedro?" (Did you call Pedro?)

"Si, ya viene por mi, gracias." (Yes, he's coming to get me, thank you.)

Fernando senses the disappointment in your voice. As much as he wants to joke about it, he knows you wanted to do things on your own, not wanting to bother him or his brother.

"Ey no te pongas triste, es normal que esto pase, eres nueva en la ciudad y para ser tu primera vez sola no fue nada mal. Llegaste a la tienda por ti sola." (Hey, don't be sad. This is normal. You're new here, and for being your first time going alone, you did it great. You got to the market all by yourself.)

That makes you feel a little better.

"Gracias, te veo en un rato cuando Pedro y yo lleguemos." (Thank you, see you in a bit when Pedro and I get there.)

"Vale, los espero" (okay, I'll wait for you)

While you waited for your boyfriend to arrive, you saw the cars passing and finished your candy.

After a good ten minutes, you saw the black Maserati parking in front of you. Pedro pulled the window down smiling.

"Uber para la señorita más hermosa de España" (uber for the most beautiful lady in Spain)

You can't help the smile. He knows how to light up your mood.

"Gracias, pero no pedí un uber, de hecho estoy esperando a mi novio" (thank you, but I actually didn't order an Uber. I'm waiting for my boyfriend.)

"Bueno pero igual te puedo llevar, descuidado te deja esperando, te podrían robar" (well, I can still take you, careless dude, leaves you waiting someone could stole you)

You laugh and open the car door.

As you got in, he took the grocery bag and placed it onto the back seat.

"Hola preciosa," he says before kissing you.

The kiss was getting a little more heated than you expected, but the sound of a car horn made you separate but not before giving him a small kiss.

"Gracias por venir por mi" (thanks for coming for me)

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of his hand.

"No agradezcas, mejor dime como acabaste hasta acá" (don't thank me, tell me how did you end over here?)

You tell him with details how you got lost. He laughed but did the same thing Fernando did, reassured you it was okay.

Once you arrived at his house he helped you with the grocery bag.

Fernando was waiting for the two of you with some dinner ready.

"La pequeña Dora la exploradora regreso de su aventura" (little Dora the explorer came back from adventure.) He says as he hugs you.

"No la molestes" (don't make fun of her)

Pedro tried not to laugh at the jokes his brother was saying, but even you were laughing.

"Sigue así y tomaras agua del bater, capullo" (keep up, and you'll drink toilet water, idiot). You laugh as you organize the groceries.

After helping with setting the table, the three of you ate and laughed at jokes Fernando was telling.

You offered to wash the dishes as Pedro took a shower and Fernando organize something in his room.

You were concentrated in the song that was playing in the background, but a pair of hands on your waist take you back to reality.

"Me alegro que estés bien y que lograras llegar a la tienda y ahora sabes también llegar a la biblioteca" (I'm happy you're okay and that you got to get to the market, now you know how to get to the library too) Pedro joke kissing your shoulder.

"Eres un pesado, amor" (you're an asshole, love), you laugh. "Tal vez para el partido llegue al camp nou por mi cuenta" (maybe for the match I'll get to Camp Nou by myself).

"Por ahora tratemos de quedarnos cerca, no quiero tener que parar el partido para ir por ti." (Let's get close for now, I don't want to have to stop the match to come get you) he jokes.

"Acepto" (deal), you say, tuning around to kiss him.

Just like the kiss in the car, this one was getting a little more heated than necessary, but you weren't complaining.

"Consigan un cuarto o pierdanse." (Get a room or get lost) Fernando joked.

You two laugh, hugging.

Even though your first experience by yourself was not the best, it was not bad at all. You had two boys who will do everything to protect you and you were thankful for both.

[lizzy019]

Hello! I love your writing! Would I be able to request a fic where Ponyboy has a younger twin sister and the week he's away at the church she's just shutting down? Won't eat can't sleep even with Soda there to keep her company, and just keeps breaking down at tge thought of never seeing her twin again. Then when he does come home she's attached at the hip like sharing a bed and even getting sick because he was sick?

Hope that makes sense!

Ooo this is such a cute idea :D

~~~~~~~~ 🖤-> ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 💚! ~~~~~~~~~

The silence in the house was almost deafening, it was like a surround sound machine that was eerily loud.

Ponyboy was gone for a week, and you struggled to really wrap your head around the news. Your twin brother, the one you'd bicker with the most and steal cigarettes from was gone. Gone, like- for good? No, he wasn't, right? Maybe you were overthinking...

You felt yourself growing ill with depression. Gaslighting yourself wasn't helping, and you became glued to your bed or seated at the kitchen. You were emotionless, aimless. You felt no reason to have motivation when your closest sibling was gone.

Darry and Soda seemed to notice, and they tried hard to keep you happy. Darry would make the foods you enjoyed most, Soda would always offer to let you watch the TV whenever you came downstairs. But none of it felt the same, none of it felt the same without Pony making a mean comment or him fighting for a channel on the TV.

Even if you were immersed in the TV show, you weren't enjoying it as much as you should've. Soda's hand was reassuringly rubbing your back, an act of kindness to show you he was there. You couldn't find it in you to enjoy the things you normally would, such as his kind gesture.

It wasn't long until you passed the empty phase and headed into the tearful phase. You were crying almost every waking second of the day, you didn't know how to cope with the fact that someone so close to you could be so far gone.

You felt awful knowing you didn't give him a proper goodbye when he ran away from home, because now you felt like you were cold and distanced.

Sodapop was trying his best to be there for you and trying to manage his work. But he took many days off because you'd stay home from school, too emotionally unstable with knowing your brother could be out there somewhere, or come onto the news dead.

"It'll be fine, sis. Darry and I are worried too, but Pony's too tough to just give up, yeah?" He smiled, trying to get a somewhat positive reaction from you.

You just turned your head up to look at him, and you felt yourself admiring his positivity just a bit more than usual. Yeah, Pony was tough, but he'd been gone for a week. What if he didn't come back?

The next few days were spent alone in your room. You didn't want anyone to come in except for Darry and Soda, but on the occasion you'd let Steve come in just because he could be a bit humorous when you needed a pick-me-up.

But it wasn't until one day, the door opened loudly followed by a bunch of noise. It was obnoxious, stirring you awake and irritating you more than it should've. You lived with a bunch of boys, this wasn't uncommon, but still.

So you angrily got out of bed, wiping the tears that were already a bit dried from you napping before you slipped some proper clothes on and trotted out. The closer you got, the louder the noise grew, and you were just a bit too aggravated to handle it calmly.

But once you managed to pass by the kitchen and swerve into the living room, you froze instantly. No, was it really Pony? You waited for Darry to stop hugging him before you started bolting over.

"Pony!" You exclaimed, arms up and around Ponyboy's body as you clutched him tightly within your grasp. His arms did the same, squeezing at your shoulder blades and stuffing his cheek against yours.

"You smell like depression..." He teased, but his voice was shaky just like yours.

Ah, you couldn't argue with him, you were quite literally rotting away in your room anyway.

The next few days, you were right beside him. You made breakfast with him, brushed teeth alongside him, went and bought cigarettes together, hell, you even took naps with him. You were so grateful to have him back, you were so happy to finally be able to tease your brother after a whole week and a half.

But then again, he did kind of stink at times. Eating all the leftovers and hogging the TV. But, he was back, and he was doing all the things you missed while he was gone.

You couldn't really complain, could you?

[dullgecko]

Some fang hcs!

My hc has always been that in terms of fangs goblin and tieflings are pretty different in the sense that like tieflings were never really made for practical purposes, mainly for intimidation and any attack that takes some amount of time, so they’re more refined and clean, kinda vamipirish if that makes sense, while goblin fangs are very much for attacking in the blink of an eye and ripping meat apart so they are kinda jagged and rough

So while Fig is like constantly showing off (and being complimented on) her fangs, literally using them any chance she gets (which is 99% juice boxes and soda cans but after she becomes archdevil she learns how to be able to actually use them in battle more) because tiefling fangs are hidden anytime their mouths are closed, Riz is so self conscious about his and only shows them when he’s either eating something, in a battle, or when he’s like really emotional, because goblin fangs aren’t really “cute” to most people (emphasis on most Fabian loves them and Gorgug likes teasing Riz for having “little baby tusks”) but they do poke out a lot (kinda like how poisonous animals evolve to show other animals they’re poisonous) and Riz has to make an effort in hiding them, like he had a lisp for a while because he was trying to hide them but they do get in the way a lot when you’re not in immediate danger, it becomes a little bit of a game to see who can make Riz chill out enough to show his fangs, they have a scoreboard and everything in Adaine’s journal

Riz and Fig both like nibbling on things so many pencils have been lost to those two that Fabian just keeps an extra entire pack on hand for the party

Sklonda learns Fig has fangs and immediately pulls her aside to teach her about proper fang maintenance

Some kid tried to be genuinely mean to Fabian one time and Riz bit his hand so hard he had to go to the hospital

Fig tries to get Riz to give her hissing lessons but Riz has to let her down that hissing has nothing to do with him having fangs it’s just the fact that he’s a goblin

When Fig’s fangs started growing in Sandra Lynn almost had a heart attack (mainly because they only learned they were, y’know, fangs when Fig accidentally bit her tongue and it was bleeding way too much) and ended up coming up with some excuse of like “must be her wood elf genes!”

Riz did have one of those rubber chew necklaces when he was little. Once. He ate it.

Riz likes holding styrofoam in his fangs he says it calms him down

Fig finds out Riz got bullied for his fangs as a kid and is just so pissed that she actually accidentally summons Ankarna (who is also pissed and who definitely 100% doesn’t send really bad karma at those kids)

Kristen makes Riz a thing he can nibble on that can sustain his fangs because if he doesn’t have that when he’s really excited or overstimulated he will nibble on the closest thing he can and she cannot keep healing Fabian and Gorgug because “he seemed so peaceful”

Fig has discovered that no she cannot do the whole sexy vampire thing with Ayda it just tastes like a mouth full of feathers (Ayda offers to try a spell that turns her human for a few minutes but Fig would rather die than have her paramour change herself for Fig’s comfort)

Riz has natural instincts that help him with the fangs but Fig does not so when they first grew in Fig kept having to go to a healer because she would bite her lip or cheek or tongue and they would start bleeding profusely (the healer was very confused the first time because why does this elf have fangs but Sandra Lynn glared at them so hard when they tried to bring it up that they never brought it up again), after like the 5th or 6th time Fig just learned the way there by herself

One time some kid thought he was “helping” by cursing Riz so he had no fangs but Riz immediately panicked and hid in Fabian’s backpack (which doesn’t sound like a lot until you realize Fabian was at practice at the time and Riz was halfway across the school) until Adaine tracked the kid down and got the counterspell from him (it was some Helioic freshman and he felt so bad when it all got explained that Riz got cornbread in his locker for like 2 weeks after it happened)

Riz is very careful about whether or not he bites people because people tend to have a very bad track record about goblins biting them whether they’re in danger or he’s just really hyper, Fig however bites anyone and everyone she can get away with seriously if you give her an excuse she will bite you

Bonus tusk hc for Gorgug

Gorgug had to get braces when he was little but they had to go to a specialist (not because other doctors didn’t do tusks but because Wilma and Digby only trusted the best for their baby), Gorgug hated the braces with such a burning passion that he kept trying to use his tusks to get them off but they were very specifically made so that they couldn’t be taken off like that so he had to wait until his next dentists appointment where the first and only thing he said the entire appointment was “braces. Off. Now” (they took off the braces and got him a magic retainer instead)

Fig has sharp canines, both bottom and top, but otherwise pretty normal teeth. She can do decent damage whe she bites with them but doesn't have a huge amount of bite force.

Riz has pretty big canines too but his incisors are also pointed and wickedly sharp. Made for CHOMPING and stopping your prey from wiggling free because they curve backwards slightly. If one falls out they regrow in a couple days and he's been known to yank them out himself if they get chipped or broken in a fight (he doesn't like it but it's less painful than leaving it broken. Freaked his party out the first time he used his claws to yank out a cracked incisor after biting someone because it bleeds PROFUSELY).

Gorgugs tusks are basically ornamental but grow constantly. Orcs with big unbroken tusks tend the be the healthiest but they get in the way and he gets them filed down regularly. When he gets older he gets the ends capped with gold.

[chronicallyill-nephilim]

Parallel Dimensions #2

Clone Dipper, cause we all love the clones, long live the clones.

Really, I mean it, because this is the dimension where a clone survives, not Dipper.

So for set up to this timeline, we and our dimension Dipper know that things got out of hand very quickly. Dipper made to many copies of himself and the clones ended up revolting against the original Dipper all wanting their turn to be the real Dipper with Wendy. They tried locking the original in the closest (cause it's a kid show and murder can't always be the first option).

However, where the dimensions differ, "classic" Dipper doesn't realize he can use soda or water against the clones fast enough, and with all of them teamed up against him, they over power him and kill the original.

This leads to them turning on each other because they're all smart enough to know there can only be one Dipper. Dipper 2 (Tyrone) ends up figuring out the soda thing the fastest and he becomes the last Dipper standing.

Dipper 2 (Tyrone)

Reminder, no one else in the shack knew about what Dipper was doing, not even Mabel knew he was cloning himself because unlike other episodes he doesn't need to recruit her for help because he had his clones there to help him and by the time they turned on him and each other it was to late to alert her or anyone else.

Tyrone has to rejoin the family without anyone else knowing anything happened, but he has two very heavy things on his shoulders.

He's not the real Dipper, that Dipper, the one Mabel and everyone else in the shack knew and loved was dead. He was Dipper enough to know they'd never see him as Dipper if he told them, all Mabel would see when she looked at him was the clone that killed her brother. She would never see he still was a part of her brother, or that he still loved her like a sister. He can never tell them.

Secondly, he would have a deathly fear of water and any liquid. Something his family would see as a random and irrational new thing and something he'd be ruthlessly teased for. None-the-less he'd still be afraid because he knows it could kill him.

He also doesn't age, he's just a paper copy of Dipper when he was twelve, so he can't grow up. For the summer it's fine cause neither of them look very different by the end of it, he could even get away with it for another year- late bloomer and all -but two years? three? There's no good explanations to that.

The Beacon

By the time Bill creates the Book of Bill Tyrone has been living in extreme isolation for almost a decade. After Weirdmaggon started and he couldn't hid the truth any longer he had no other choose than to go into hiding, terrified of everything because the world was upside down and literal bubbles of water just floated through the air like giant pockets of death.

His dimension is one of the first the Theraprism sends Bill and Dipper to to fix, because I don't think there's a lot for Bill to learn here but more healing for Dipper to do. Getting to have another conversation with Tyrone like the one he and his Tyrone had on the roof at the end of the night. Bill mainly being around for comic relief this ep.

[alaskan-wallflower]

Ok I’m trying to think of some fluffy stuff

• the gang all trust each other so much that they’ve almost all fallen asleep on all of each other at some point. It means a lot for them tbh since people like Johnny and Dally, even Steve, have to be alert a lot of the time, so them being vulnerable with the gang really shows their trust

• just picture Darry teaching everyone how to swim and whoever is afraid/isn’t a good swimmer just clinging to him like a wet cat

• Soda is such a sleepy snuggler, if he’s getting tired he’ll cling to whoever is closest. Everyone has had to deal with a clingy Soda at least once, Darry and Pony are the biggest victims at home and Steve has to deal with it everyday at work but they don’t mind because Soda is just adorable and precious when he’s sleepy

• once Pony was sick but Darry and Soda couldn’t get off work so Two-Bit watched him and Darry came home to Pony bundled up on the couch and Two-Bit cooking soup and cleaning the kitchen like a housewife wearing a kiss the cook apron. He laughed so hard he cried but he was actually extremely grateful

• they’re all just so touchy and affectionate. More often than not it’s mainly wrestling, shoulder squeezes, stuff like that but also lots of hair ruffles, arms around shoulders or waists, lots of hugs :)

• idk if this is canon or not but Darry will just pick anyone up and move them out of the way. They’re all so used to it by now even Johnny doesn’t even flinch when he feels Darry just hoist him up and out of the way like a ragdoll

• all ticklish. All instigators. No one is safe

I hope these were fluffy and fun ❤️🎞️

awwwww! these are all so cute 😭😭 i love the fact that even johnny doesn’t flinch at them, it’s so cute 🥺 i love these fools-also dart kits being a rock for people who don’t like the water is so real. i wanna cling to him, i just know he would be sooooo warm too, ugh, i wanna cuddle him :/

these are genuinely so so cute :(

[vodika-vibes]

A Sudden Realization

Summary: Tup realizes that he has a crush on his best friend and does something about it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x F!Reader

Warnings: ridiculously fluffy

A/N: I typed this on my phone, so it's not going to have a taglist until later. (If I remember)

"Because I am an amazing person," Tup chokes on his water when he hears the sudden and familiar voice of his closest friend behind him, "I bring you gifts."

She drops in the chair across from him and sets three massive bags on the table.

"No, please. Sit." Tup says sarcastically.

"Thanks! I will." She reaches across the table and steals a fry, earning her a disgruntled look.

"I was eating that," he wraps his arm protectively around his plate, "I'm sure you have enough money to buy fries of your own."

She grins, "I only wanted one. Anyway! Ask me what I bought you." She almost bounces in her seat, "Go on. Ask."

Tup sighs and uncurls his arm. He takes one more sip of his soda, and then sets the cup on the table, "What did you buy me?" He asks, dutifully.

"I'm so glad you asked!" She shifts on her chair so she's resting on a knee and digs through a bag, "First, the hair salon I get my shampoo from was having a sale so I bought you your own bottles of the same shampoo and conditioner that I use, and I saw some cute scrunchies so I bought a couple so we can match—"

"Isn't your shampoo and conditioner, like, 50 credits a pop? With crushed pearls or some shit like that?"

"80, actually. And yes, it is." She grins at him as she lifts a bottle and shows him before setting it back in the bag. "And then I popped into the store next door and they had those boots that you really liked in your size, so I bought you a pair of brown and black—"

"...the 125 credit boots?"

"—And they're rated for use on military ships, so you won't have to worry about that." She continues as if he hadn't spoken, "And since they were having a buy two get one free sale, I got myself the cutest sandals, they were originally only 40 credits, but it seemed excessive to spend that much on shoes, you know—"

"...so you spend nearly three times that amount on shoes for me?" Tup asks dryly.

Again, she ignores him, "—and then, across the lot, they had the clothing store that I really like and I bought you a couple of shirts in colors you look good in and some jeans."

"This is excessive, don't you think?"

"Not really?" She glances at him for a moment before she digs through the biggest bag, "oh! I also got you some dress clothes, like for a date or an interview or whatever. A dark blue button up and some black slacks and nice shoes—"

"Uh...who am I dating?"

"Tup, you need nice clothes if you're going to woo someone. Trust me. I'm the voice of experience."

"You've never been on a date in your life." Tup points out.

"Excuse your whore mouth," she presses a hand to her chest in mock offense, "I'll have you know that I got married under the slide when I was 3."

"Yeah? And where's your husband at?"

Her lips twitch like she's trying not to laugh, "A deadbeat, apparently."

At that, Tup let's out a loud laugh. She holds out a moment longer before she also dissolves into laughter.

Once she's managed to calm her giggles, she favors him with a warm smile, "All joking aside, Tup, I want you to have the best shot at happiness. I just hope that some of this stuff helps."

"You didn't have to waste all this money on me," Tup says as he leans back in his chair.

"I wanted to. You're important to me, after all."

Tup's heart does a flip in his chest, and he takes a moment to look at her. To really look at her.

From her crooked smile that she has a tendency to cover with a hand because it's 'not pretty', up her slightly turned up nose, to her eyes that crinkle when she's genuinely happy.

Tup realizes that the only future he wants for himself is one when she's standing next to him.

She tilts her head to the side, like a curious tooka, "Tup? Everything alright?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. Thank you, angel. Really."

Her bright smile becomes smaller, gentler almost, and she averts her gaze as she absently plays with the end of her braid.

How had he never noticed the way she looked at him? The way she softens when he praises her? The way she averts her gaze when he's trying to be sincere with her?

How is it that he's seen her every day for months...and yet this is the first time he's ever actually seen her?

Tup makes a split second decision, and hopes, beyond all hope, that he's reading her right. "Hey, angel?"

"Yeah? What's up?" She casts her pretty gaze back to his face, and then her breath catches, audibly, when he leans in and kisses the corner of her lips. "You--I--um..."

This might be the first time he's ever seen her properly speechless. "Was that okay?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean—" she groans and presses a hand over her face, "Can we start again?"

He laughs, unable to help himself, "By all means. Let me start." Tup takes the hand covering her face and threads his fingers with hers, "It seems that I now how clothes that are acceptable to wear on a date. So how about we go out tonight? Just you and me. And we can figure out if you like my kisses or not."

She stares at her the joined hands for a moment, and then she huffs out a slightly flustered laugh, "I have nothing to wear."

"Well then, we can start our date now. With a well-deserved shopping spree." Tup replies, "If you don't mind showing off for me?"

And, finally, that tiny pretty smile comes back to her face, "Have I ever?"

[thequarterkid]

Teen!Michael Afton x fem!reader

Chapter 3

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(Main updates on Wattpad, same user)

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Y/N needed to pick up some groceries, their fridge and cabinets were running a little too low in her opinion. She went over to the closest corner store to get what she needed, although she had to walk because of her bike disappearing faster than a dad.

The walk wasn't too long but the heat of the sun did not help, but she was was relieved to feel the cool rush off air as soon as she went inside the store. It was like a very much welcomed hug, making her stand by the door a minute and take it in.

Y/N walked around the place, slowly scanning the selves for what she needed, the list in her head kept her focused. Eyes glued into the items, at few times she picked something and checked it off her mental list. She wanted to get a better look at the self so she backed up and bumped into the person behind her, she jumped when she did it and instantly whipped around to apologize.

The boy, Michael. He faced her wide eyed until he recognised her. "Bike girl!" He greeted her with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you so soon!" He held 3 packs of gum in his left hand and a soda in the other.

"Oh hey, uh, Michael!" She, forgot his name for a second which have her a mini heart attack. "Sorry for bumping into you." Y/N was really glad she didn't make Michael drop anything, it would have been so much worse. Also, 'bike girl'? What was with the nickname, did he forget her name as well?

"Nah, it's fine!" he waved his gum filled hand and dismissed it. "What are you buying? " Michael asked as the two started strolling down the small isles, Y/N 's gaze being on the shelves. Every step they took could be heard through the quietness of the corner store.

"I just need to pick up some groceries for dinner and what not, I'm hoping to cook up some soup- don't ask me what kind, I have no idea." She smiled as she talked and she was grateful that Michael was listening to her ramble. "I haven't made anything like that in a while so I hope it goes well." Y/N grabbed some cans off the shelf.

He had huffed out a laugh, "I'm sure it'll be fine, you're probably a great cook." His comment made Y/N shake her head, it was nice of Michael. He looked at her with a grin, showing off his rather white teeth. "I'm serious! You know, how about I come over for dinner, maybe help out a little, and taste test it for you! That way you'll know I'm right, like always."

She stopped walking and turned to look at him, although a smile was still plastered on her face. "Are you just trying to get free food out of me? Because if so.."

"What? No!" He laughed, "I'll carry your grocery bags all the way back to your house if you let me in for dinner, honest!" Michael had put the gum and drink he was buying onto the counter to be paid for. "Maybe just think of it as me saying sorry for almost smashing into your brother —because I am!" He felt the need to add on that last part.

Y/N signed sarcastically and rolled her eyes, she smirked as she dragged out the sentence, "I guess I'll have to let you." Y/N looked him directly in eyes, "I just couldn't let a poor soul like you starve!"

"Ha, ha." He responded to her sarcasm with a bit of his own, slamming the cash onto the counter. Never once did he stop looking at her, a single eyebrow raised.

—~~—~~—~~—~~—~~—~~—~~—

[chaotic-starlight24]

Cynthia's character page :)

Welp, here it is y'all. Cynthia's very large amount of information! Since she isn't a part of any fanfic so I can ramble for a while! It is organized in sections, so skip through stuff you don't care about! I hope the characters mentioned are in character!

Who is she?

Cynthia is a 17 year old, middle class teenager who lives on the top of her family’s soda fountain in Tulsa, OK. She has shoulder-length dark, curly hair and dark brown eyes, as well as skin on the tanner side. Around 5’7 ½ . She is a part of the group of families who are just between being a soc and greaser. Not as rich and emotionless as a soc and not as poor or wild as a greaser. But she mainly chooses to hang out with the greasers. She is very hard-working, her and her brother mainly running the soda fountain and can be quite stubborn. But she is also very caring, always letting greasers come in and helping patch them up if they’ve just been jumped. She does still go to school, she is quite good at math but other than that she’s pretty average. Some other character traits of her or little facts:

She can be extremely brutally honest. Like she can’t help herself but point out the negatives if you ask her. Which many can take offense to.

She has really good comebacks, mainly because she doesn’t exactly think before she speaks. It's good for rude people! But has gotten her into some trouble before…

Teacher: Now with those grades you have…Don’t expect to be able to join any sports, not that you had a chance anyways.

Cynthia: With that hairline, don’t expect to be able to get anyone to marry you. Not that you had a chance anyways.

She doesn’t hold any hatred for most socs, but she dislikes the ones who go looking to pick on greasers. Which means she also dislikes the greasers who jump random people. 

She just matches the vibe of whoever she’s hanging out with, but since she hangs out a lot with greasers she can take on more of their traits

Her dream is to be an actress, this is because her mother and her used to go watch movies together as their girls thing and now deep down she wonders if she’ll get her mother’s attention again.

Since she has worked at the aforementioned ranch, she has a plethora of strength that she likes to show off.

Cynthia can be very observant without really realizing it. It’s how she knows so much about a lot of her friends (the gang) or family members. Just by catching little details and remembering them whenever needed. 

Her closest family

Cynthia’s parents are ok people. Her dad mainly works at the family ranch that her grandparents’ own and her mother helps out with organizing the rodeo events they host. Her mother occasionally comes to help out at the soda fountain but Cynthia and her brother end up left to their own devices most of the time. Since both are almost adults anyways they’re ok with being alone a lot. (But it’s more on the unhealthy side how much they are with their parents since they just don’t come home like half the week. Cynthia blames it on their jobs taking over.) When they were younger, their parents raised them in a laid back manner. But certain things they definitely drilled into their heads. They would remind them about these rules very randomly. Like I’m talking:

*At the dinner table*

“Cynthia?”

“Yeah, mama?”

“I need you to remember this.” “...Ok?”

“Wait till marriage for the following things. 1#-”

Joey has let go of a lot of the rules he doesn’t like or just forgot them. Cynthia has held onto those rules more. (Probably because she wants the attention from her parents that she has listened to them just like they asked her to do.)

Joey is Cynthia’s older brother who is 19. He is a lot like Darry, but more like if everything went right for him. He acts a bit more like a soc but always helps out the greasers when he can. He got a scholarship from football but he enjoys baseball a lot more. He could win a Paul Newman look-alike contest (when Pony first met him he took a double take). With his literal movie star looks, girls have tried flirting with him at the fountain. But he is honestly really passive aggressive about the fact he has a girlfriend who he loves very much and her name is Roxie and did he mention he loves her very much? He is overall a very kind person who can also be very protective with Cynthia. (Especially with a certain hood *cough cough* Dallas Tucker Winston *Cough Cough*) Though he is still pretty young, he is usually the voice of reason in a lot of situations. He is a bit bitter that he can't really leave for college yet because of the soda fountain and Cynthia can't be left alone. But he's seen people like Darry so he's more at peace with it. He is the best bros with Angel's older brother Todd. (@ollenotter27 other OC)

Their cousins Rosemary and Tessa also basically live with them at this point. Rosemary is a 21 year old hairstylist with her own salon. She is extremely independent and a big fighter for women’s rights. She enjoys different arts and crafts but especially crocheting and knitting. She has also become a pretty good friend to the greasers and can be very mom-like to them all and with that become great friends with Darry. She helps him out a lot even if he insists that he doesn’t need it but he does really appreciate it. She’s also just there for him to have someone to talk to that is his age. Sodapop and Pony definitely think they should be dating.

Tessa is Rosemary’s younger sister at about 14 years old (and a half). She is extremely outgoing and sassy whenever she’s comfortable. She really enjoys hanging out with the greasers (especially Pony and Johnny) but is terrified of Dally. If there's anything Rosemary has taught her, it’s that you shouldn’t let the enemy know she’s scared. So Dally just believes at this point she’s a very rude person. Rosemary has also taught her how to do great hairstyles and how to fight. Rosemary is her main caretaker after their father left and their mother was just not mentally ok enough to take care of them. Rosemary initially didn’t want Tessa to have to constantly sleep in the salon so she would send her over to Cynthia and Joey. She grew up not being able to lean on others, leading to her being extremely independent and that was why she didn’t stay with them at first. But she was eventually won over. 

(If y'all want to know anymore about the details of these goobers let me know :)

Her friendship with the canon characters

Ponyboy- She has noticed that he (and Johnny) can be very quiet so she tries to talk to him about his interests and just lets him ramble about all sorts of different things. So a lot of times he can be found after school drinking a Pepsi and talking about the newest movies while Cynthia cleans the dishes. 

Sodapop- Soda is her best friend out of anyone in the gang (besides her boyfriend) and they hang out when they’re not working. They both have the understanding of having a more undecided future and also love for horses. She is one of the few who have actually heard about his insecurities, one of the few to know that he isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. She also has a dislike for Sandy (not in a jealousy way) because she doesn’t trust her. She just feels something off about her and how Soda seems to be the one to care a lot more. But she never says anything. At some point Soda talks about Mickey Mouse (the horse). After hearing some about Mickey Mouse, she realizes that her grandparents recently bought a horse that used to do rodeos and stuff and gets Soda to tell her what he looked like. She makes the connections and takes Soda to see him. He most definitely just fell to his knees when he saw him and it recognized him.

Darry- She likes him enough as a person. But she hasn’t really gotten to know him since he is working so much. She feels bad for him, especially knowing that he is friends with her brother, who is basically him if his life went the expected way. She knows most about him from Rosemary and is also a Rosedarry shipper.

Johnny- Like with Pony, she noticed that he was extremely quiet. But she also realized that it is more towards the point that she can’t get an answer out of him. She decided to leave him be and let him reach out if he really wanted to. But they ended up becoming friends of sorts when he learned that she just says what comes to mind and she learned that he can say some more rude things after picking it up from Dally. So their main thing is just people watching and judging. (Some people may see that as ooc but I’ve seen a lot of headcanons that Johnny has picked up traits like that from Dally so…)

Steve-She’s not exactly good friends with him. She has hung out with him and Soda before so they have done some chaotic stuff together. But it’s more the kind of trio where two of the people don’t really like each other, they just happen to both be besties with the one. But she does trust him and knows a good amount about him.

Two-Bit- She likes him a good amount. She wouldn’t exactly hang out with him alone but she thinks he’s a fun person. She learned about his younger sister and offers to help out with her when she can and he appreciates that. So in general, they’re nice to each other and everything but not besties. 

Cherry- Cherry has come to the fountain with her friends several times so they are acquaintances. They’ve also seen each other at school or at Rosemary's salon. So they’ve had a couple chats but not much more than that.

Non-Canon Characters

Angel- (Angel is a soc oc created by @ollenotter27 :) They are both great at roasting other people and Angel has bruised Dally’s ego several times. So they sort of teeter on the friend and enemy line. Though once she starts dating Sodapop, they become better friends.

Dally will be covered in the relationship post! I promise y’all I’m not basic, I just like their dynamic

[sterekchub]

Maybe Stiles has a spell put on him without his knowledge and it makes him a thoughtless glutton? An almost hypnotic effect + some rapid weight gain? He manages to text Derek that he doesn't feel great before his mind can only send him hunger signals, and by the time Derek shows up he's cleared out the fridge and the pantry and has ordered a comical amount of food to be delivered, his mind only focused on more. As much as Derek would love to get to the bottom of whatever spell is messing with Stiles, he gets roped into feeding him instead. Eventually he has the rest of the pack come by to help, getting their ditzy human comfortable before feeding him almost non-stop. The spell wears off after a few days, but by then Stiles can't lift a finger, and his packmates are happy to keep pampering him and teasing him for being so greedy.

There is something great about the "eats so much his stomach is practically the size of the room" until the spell passes and Stiles finds his stomach shrinking down - but the pounds piling on and softening him up everywhere. So - this is a little bit of...comically fat and fantasy BIG (but I love that trope so...) When Derek gets Stiles' text, he rushes over. Happens to run into the delivery guy who is carrying several boxes of pizza which Derek pays for and carries in to some confusion. He walks in to see Stiles sitting in front of the empty freezer and fridge, belly packed tight and resting proudly in his lap. "Did you eat all of this?" "'m hungry," Stiles burps. Derek sort of kicks through the remains of jars and ice cream containers. "You ate a jar of mayo?"

"I guess. Don't remember." "These pizzas were FROZEN, you're supposed to cook them!" Stiles shrugs, then clutches his belly with both hands as another wave of hunger hits him. "I'm so hungry, Derek." Derek texts the pack an SOS, as Stiles continues to groan and complain he's hungry. Derek gets Stiles to his feet, and Stiles immediately heads over to the pizza boxes and bends over the counter and starts eating. He finishes in record time and Derek can see that Stiles gut has gotten visibly wider. But despite having eaten 3 pizzas, Stiles is still nearly crying that he's hungry. He sounds almost like he's in pain so Derek gives in and runs to the pantry and starts emptying it, tearing off wrappers and tossing the contents to Stiles. Cookies, granola bars, plain cereal, even uncooked Pasta seems to happily satisfy Stiles' growing need. **** When the pack arrives, Derek sends some of them off to research the spell, and the others off to buy food. When it becomes clear that Stiles is eating faster than they can feed him - Derek gets desperate. He can't handle the desperate "N-Need ...*gulp*... more ...*gnash*... I'm ...*slosh*... s-sho hungry." coming from Stiles. Delivery takes too long, there's no food left in the house..so the solution becomes move Stiles to the food. Takes a bag of snack food Scott ran to get from the closest gas station, and then Stiles in the car, the entire time holding his beach-ball-sized belly nearly in tears asking Derek "why won't you feed me? I'm so hungry. We need to get food..." (In some fantasy bullshit move - Derek just throws a good chunk of the Hale fortune at the local grocery store owner - maybe the spell extends some level of hypnotic effect to him too- and he agrees to just - sell Derek everything in the store and closes down.)

Stiles RUNS in, belly bouncing in front of him, and the first thing he comes across is the soda display. He wastes no time- starts unscrewing the caps, tossing them to the side, and guzzling the 2liters down in under two minutes. (The entire pack stops and stares and asks Derek if they should let him keep going, and Derek doesn't have a good answer other than "Yes, or he gets upset." Which...he knows is terrible and enabling but what else can they do?) Stiles guzzles his way through about 200 liters of soda before he falls to the ground with a sloshing noise like waves hitting the beach, his belly so comically wide it was now covering his feet.

"D-Derek, ...*hfffbUAARRP*... I ...*uhhhnn*... need ...*Buaaaaarp*... m-more ...*burRRPPpp*... I'm ...*uhhmm*... shtill ... h-hungry." "Feed him!" Derek orders. They all spread out and start rushing food over to Stiles. Cooked or not, frozen or not, it didn't seem to matter to the black hole that was Stiles' growing belly. When the tubs of ice cream were out? He started sucking on bottles of hot fudge. The entire bakery depleted and all the loaves of bread? He started sticking two fingers into jars of jelly and peanut butter to make quick work of emptying their contents. His middle keeps expanding. The pack piles up food on his belly, until Stiles arms start being able to reach less and less and then they start cramming the food directly into his mouth. Butter. Tubs of sour cream. Heavy cream. Milk. Mountains of chocolate bars. Cookie dough. With eat bite and swallow, Stiles was growing wider and wider until he started vanishing into a massive fat sphere of his belly. When the store is mostly depleted, Stiles finally seems to wake out of the spell. Looks around in confusion before, " N-No ...*urrRPPphh*... more. ...*ehhphh*... I'm ...*hnnff*... t-too ...*uhhhmm*... full. ...*nggnhh*..." Derek just stares at the mountains of trash, the to Stiles, who is far too fat to get out of the front doors or even the loading dock, and wonders what the hell to do next. Doesn't have anything to really say except "Oh, are you finally done? Are you sure?" "You ate the entire store!" "I don't think you're fat enough, should we roll you to a chocolate factory next?" The spell hits the next phase- Stiles eyes are rolling back in his head as an orgasmic feeling hit him - all that food packed in his belly starts turning to fat. Derek watches him go from a "belly the size of a house attached to a skinny body" to double chins, flabby arms, belly shrinking to the size of a full-person beanbag. He's still too fat to stand, panting and eyes fluttering as the sensation fades, but he can at least now wiggle his toes and move his arms once more. "We....we can fix this, right?" He looks to Derek. "Right?" Derek doesn't answer.

"Should we keep feeding him?"

"I bet he could clean out a Costco!"

"He's already too fat to move...it doesn't matter if he gets fatter."

Stiles looks nervous. "N- no. I can lose this! I can walk! Can someone just...help me up?" Derek goes over to him, poking a finger into Stiles' side. It disappears into his fat roll. "Yeah, let's keep feeding him."

[mute-call]

@immortalitythroughdeath // permanent starter call.

The animatronics do always get a little more rambunctious as the week goes on, but this is ridiculous, even by Steven's standards. Foxy refuses to cut him a break, and he can't help but feel a little hurt--he's always been fond of the pirate, but right now, Foxy doesn't exactly seem to return the feeling.

Sweat sticks Bell's hair messily to his forehead and he swallows thickly, keeping perfectly still until Foxy's done trying to break down the door and the coast is clear again. Everything's fine, as always. ...except maybe the amount of power he has remaining for the rest of the night, but all he needs is for the band to relax for a moment or two so he can ration out the rest of his energy and he'll be golden. Couldn't be easier, he tells himself, ignoring the way his chest has tightened uncomfortably.

Surprisingly, his hopes and prayers seem to be answered. The robots stop showing up at his office doors as frequently, appearing almost distracted in a way that's as relieving as it is disconcerting. Not one to look a gift-bear in the mouth, Bell lets himself relax into the sudden quiet until--

"Huh?" he says aloud, squinting at a dark shape on the monitors that definitely shouldn't be there. It looks almost humanoid, and Steven's caught off-guard by the possibility that he might actually have to perform his original job description and stop an intruder from coming in as opposed to ensuring that no one and nothing wanders out.

He's in the middle of contemplating how to go confront the stranger without crossing paths with Bonnie when the issue solves itself. That is, the figure comes to him, and it takes concerted effort for Steven not to act on muscle-memory and slam the heavy metal door in the person's face when they appear in the entryway.

Steve scrambles to stand, brandishing the closest thing at hand (a half-empty paper soda cup), until a vague sense of familiarity overcomes him. Squinting at the intruder, Steven blinks rapidly a few times before dropping his makeshift weapon. What in the world...?

"Evan? I mean, um--" This was William Afton's son. Is Bell supposed to use some kind of honorific, considering who the guy's dad is? "Mr. Afton-- Evan Afton-- you, uh, really shouldn't be here right now."