#still on my baker au

[fictionfordays]

Flowers

Main Masterlist | Tolkien Masterlist

Maedhros enjoys flowers. So much so that he takes it upon himself to study them, pressing flowers on a page in a special journal with notes written about it.

While he doesn't study herbs the way someone like Tyelkormo would, he does study the edible and medicinal uses of flowers, making it a point to include flowers in some of the pastries he makes. Topping salads with sugared dianthus, tea cakes made with a creamy chamomile tea, mixing lavender with blueberries in a dish similar to a soufflé pancake, even rose and apple scones.

He loves to look at them. He doesn't mind picking enough to make a seasonal crown, or getting his hands dirty in his own personal little garden. He doesn't mind the thorns on the rose bush that seem to always catch his hair, untangling it from the loose braid he put it in earlier. Or the way raspberry thorns snag on his clothes. They can be mended, after all.

If you prick your finger, he'll dote on you: kissing your little scrape with a small smile. He'll affectionately tell you to be kinder to the roses next time so you won't get pricked again~

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Tags: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @eunoiaastralwings @manjirwo @stopisa @wandererindreams

I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2024.

[doctorsiren]

A few questions for the Prosecutor Phenix au

1. Are the tattoos actually tattoos or like the water or sleeves.

2. who takes care of Trucy.

3. Is Wright still convinced and if so how does that turn out.

1. Yeah they’re real tattoos

2. Edgeworth adopts Trucy

3. I’m guessing you mean convicted and by that I’m guessing you mean disbarred, and that’s a no. Miles is hired as Zak’s defense (he’s only able to beat him in poker due to many games played against Phoenix with Miles trying to win and losing each time…but since he’s trained so much in an attempt to beat his friend in poker, he’s just good enough to beat Zak in poker)

Miles is therefore then the one disbarred, but he doesn’t fall to being how like Beanix is. He gets a job as like a librarian or something like that and he is kind of more responsible than Phoenix when it comes to raising Trucy (lmao sorry Phoenix but it’s true) but he still has that fake friendship with Kristoph to dig up evidence

[steampunk-llama]

Finally getting to work on an mlp infection au of my own >:3

[engagemythrusters]

modern au kanan scheduled to be in a baking contest but that was set up pre-injury, and now he's blind, so he's got ezra in the kitchen with him scrambling to do everything while kanan just goes "okay did you remember the flour this time. yes, great that you found the cinnamon. but the flour, ezra..."

[divinekangaroo]

There's a "Solomons Accountants and Advisors" firm and a "Shelby Autos" company that I drive past regularly, both of which only opened up in 2023 . Obscurely pleased every time I see them no matter the mood of the day.

[phosphorus-noodles]

thinking about the miraculous joli au i haven't made yet again

[constellation-skirmishes]

*crahses through door covered in blood*

RESI 7 WITH LUKE AS ETHAN AND REY AS EVELINE *EXPLOIDES*

[coffee-and-geto]

LET ME WARM YOU UP

summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?

cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).

wc: 721

When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.

Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.

“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”

Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?

Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.

He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.

The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.

“Will that be all, young man?”

Satoru nods.

“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”

A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”

Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.

He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.

He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.

With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.

“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.

You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.

“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.

“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”

He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.

Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.

Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.

“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”

“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”

Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.

a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

[endlessdreamworld]

My Sinful Little Angel

a short AU fic featuring secret priest! Sunday of a small village x baker! gn reader

"Thank you again, Mr. Oak," you said as Sunday, the town's resident tailor finished repairing the frayed hem of your apron. "Here," you offer him a half dozen of today's special treat, powdered sugar shortbread cookies filled with raspberry jam.

"Thank you," he gave you a soft smile that made your heart melt. "Here," he offered you up some coins, more than he should but still a paltry amount the judgmental villagers would consider good and proper.

It was part of your little arrangement. You showed up one day out of nowhere, and the town's bakery took you in. You had a roof over your head and a belly full of food, but they paid you next to nothing.

"Tomorrow we're going to be maki--" a knock interrupted your sweet little announcement. It was the baker's son. Sunday didn't miss how your gaze fell to your hands clutching your newly repaired apron, how you seemed so very bashful in the presence of your peer. Oh God in heaven, please smite this wicked fool who dare intrude upon your shared sacred peace and tempt you so.

You gave him a small wave as you headed for the door, "I have to go Mr. Oak, duty calls." You were always so polite and sweet to him, so diligent, always doing more than you should. Sunday noticed the powdered sugar you had graced him with when he paid you for your work and brought it to his unworthy tongue. An ambrosia he didn't earn, one he didn't deserve. You were an angel made flesh, and far too good for a backwater place like this. One day, he swore, he'd do something about it.

As the sun set, he flipped the sign in the window from open to closed before heading off to his second job. Every flock needed a shepherd, and who better to play the role as he? And so the town's church offered a confessional booth service where he served as the confessor.

He settled in behind the screen and prepared his heart for the service. People always had such ridiculous things plaguing them so, but who was he to deny them salvation?

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

It was the sound of your voice. He held his breath. He couldn't help but hear how nervous and deflated you sounded. What heresy could you have committed to feel so low? "Speak freely, child," he spoke in an unrecognizable drawl. Sunday preferred anonymity. It was better when people didn't know who they were speaking to.

You sigh inwardly and steel your resolve, "I've been having sinful thoughts about another. One of my fellow peers."

Sunday has heard those very words before, and he didn't like where this was going. He was quite fortunate to be able to steer you away from such an unholy sin. "What sorts of thoughts?"

He listened to the sound of fabric brushing against the confessional screen, the sound of you squirming from discomfort. "Carnal ones I'm afraid. Whenever I'm with him, I pray his hands linger more than they should. Every night, I dream of clandestine meetings -- of the perverted sort."

Sunday hears how very affected you are, and he isn't going to allow some degenerate sully your pure soul and infect your mind. He was almost certain it was that baker boy with the way you could scarcely look at him, but if he were to do anything about it, he would need to be sure. "Those are quite heavy sins, my dear, but the lord forgives all who wish to repent."

"Thank you Father." He can hear the smile in your voice and he has you right where he needs you.

"To repent, it would be best to disclose the name of this wolf in sheep's clothing that assaults your thoughts and faithful heart."

Yes, give me a name. This whisper campaign to your excommunication will be as delicious as it'll be unsurprising. It'll be my revenge for whoever dares touch you so frivolously, my sweet angel.

You got quiet, the sound of conflict. Sunday's chest tightened, anguished by your misplaced sense of guilt. You were trying to shield whoever this dastard was by the kindness of your soul. He knew you needed one final push. "The lord forgives all who sin, even the serpent who tempts you so."

"Well," you swallowed thickly. Agony permeated your words as you work up the courage to oust the blasphemer, "it's Sunday Oak."

[xooonism]

Caitvi x reader (modern AU)

*You´re laying in bed, making out faint noises, pulling you out of your dreams. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights of the morning sun, before you make out Vi´s face. "Morning, peach", she spoke while smiling. "Did you sleep well, love?", Caitlyn says, who´s laying behind you, her body pressed against yours.

*contains: sexual activities, lesbian sex, threesome, making out, pussy licking, scissoring etc. MDNI

*wordcount: 2.1k

*authors note: This is my first ever fanfiction so please tell me anything that i could improve! Enjoy!

You groaned, feeling hazy after being pulled from your sleep. Feeling the warmth of both women on your body made it hard to stay awake. You always sleep this way, squeezed in between of Vi and Cait, enjoying their warm and soft bodies. You never complained, because you really loved the feeling of protection, helping you fall asleep quicker.

You managed to open your mouth to mumble a soft ´morning`, while streching your body, almost hitting Cait in the process. "What time is it?", you asked unfazed.

Cait answered, "It´s half past seven". You looked at her. Cait´s eyes looked heavy, telling you that she must´ve woken up briefly before you.

"Do you have to work?", you asked looking at both women. "No. We can spend some time together today". You smiled at this. Days like this, on which all of you had a free day from work, didn`t happen often. So you enjoy every moment you have together.

Vi leaned in, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. "Can we just stay in bed all day?", she asked. Right in that moment her stomach rumbles, making you chuckle. "Looks like we can´t. Can´t have you starving.", Cait chimed in.

"I can make pancakes.", you spoke into Vi`s neck, breathing in her scent. She smells soft but pungent at the same time, like sandalwood and cinnamon. You gifted her a shower gel that smells just like this, making you smile at the thought that she liked the present.

Your mention of pancakes made Vi´s head shoot up, making you chuckle. "Pancakes?". Vi looked like a little puppy, getting a treat.

"Yeah, but we have to get up first." You felt a small protest from them, who hugged you thight. Eventually they loosend their grip, Cait being the first to leave the bed. You followed suit, having to peel away Vi´s arms, to get her to stand up. She acted like a baby in the morning, cuddling up to Cait and you. You loved it.

You followed Cait into the bathroom, splashing water onto your face, before doing your skincare routine and brushing your teeth. You left before Vi and Cait, opening your drawer in the bedroom, pulling out a white tanktop and some sweatpants and changing your clothes.

Your girlfriends still haven´t left the bathroom, probably playfighting or snickering about something stupid. You walked into the kitchen already, using this moment alone the prepare some pancake batter. It´s always messy when Vi´s in the kitchen while you bake. She tries to eat some of the dough or batter, or smears some on your or Cait´s face. You didn´t hate it, but it could lead to you spending hours in the kitchen, throwing flour at each other and having to clean up the kitchen afterwards.

You prepared the pancakes, putting them on plates just in time, as both women walked into the kitchen, sitting down. "It smells so good, Peach. I love it when you bake.", Vi admits making you smile. You placed the plates with pancakes infront of the women, sitting down with your own plate. Cait looks at the food in front of her, smiling before she takes a bite. "I agree, Vi. She´s the best baker around.", she says before turning to you. "Thank you sweetheart."

You blushed slightly at the compliments, before taking a bite of your pancakes. You´ve told them countless times not to thank you for your baking, because you honestly just loved to see their satisfied faces.

Vi and Cait started to talk about your plans for today, suggesting staying in and watching a movie. "Peach, what movie should we watch?", Vi asked. You thought for a while, before speaking up, "How about Spiderman?". Vi smiled, noding her head. You know that Vi loved to watch spiderman, always accepting the invitation to watch the movies with her.

"Again? We´ve watched it like 5 times this month.", Cait says. Vi looked at her dissapointed, making Cait give in. "Fine. Let´s watch spiderman.", she sighed.

You all moved to the couch, settling in. When the movie started, Vi laid in between your legs, while Cait settled onto Vi´s stomache. Your attenion drifted to the movie. You placed your hand on Vi´s head, stroking her pink hair. Her warmth in between your legs made you hot. You started to fantasise about those moments, late at night, when Cait sat on your face while Vi slurped you up. Your face heated up at that thought, you legs unconsciously closing around Vi’s hips, pulling her attention from the movie.

“Is everything alright, peach?”, she asked, also pulling Cait’a attention from the movie, which surprised you, because she ‘apparently’ hated spiderman. “Yes”, you answered, “Just getting comfortable.”

Vi placed her head on your boobs, turning her head to kiss them trough your shirt. They were satisfied with your answer, turning their heads to the TV. Vi’s head remained on your chest, which made you drift off to those memories again.

The dynamic between both women and you was always strong. Like a match made in heaven. You three never had problems in the bedroom, one always taking on the dominant role, switching once they pleased you. You always took care of each other, making sure everyone reached their climax, often reaching for more then one. Sometimes, when one of you had to work, you also spend your times with one of them. Licking Vi´s pussy, or scissoring with Cait. Or them eating each other out. You don´t mind it, always catching up.

You thought about touching them. Tracing your hands down Vi´s abs, or squeezing Cait´s thighs. You love them, and their beautiful bodies. It was exciting, taking of each others clothes, kissing their necks. You felt youself getting wet, trying hard not to grind onto Vi´s back. You wrapped one arms around Vi´s shoulders and out around her waist, reaching for Cait´s head, now stroking her hair. Vi placed her hand in yours and Cait sighed at your touch. You felt at peace.

But also incredibly horny.

Vi looked over her shoulder, noticing that you´re not paying attention to the movie. She thought about your thighs proped up against her waist. They are soft. She can feel it, even trough your pants. You saw her gaze on your face, catching her eyes, pulling her away from her thoughts. You stared at each other, making you smile. You leaned in and kissed her lips, Vi moving her head to give you better access. Her lips felt soft against yours, which made you want more. You slipped your tounge into her mouth, Vi moaning at the feeling. This cought Cait´s attention. She smirked at the sight of you two making out.

She never felt left out. Watching you both enjoy each other´s body always made her feel hot, heat pooling in between her thighs. Cait got on her knees, Vi´s thighs on hers. She placed her hands on Vi´s boobs, which made Vi gasp into your mouth. You took this advantage, thanking Cait in your mind, to deepen the kiss. There you were, making Vi loose her cool right in front of you.

Cait roamed her hands over Vi´s body, her hands reached her pants, slipping her fingers under her waistband. Vi lifted her hips, giving Cait permission to take of her bottoms. After she pulled them off she admired the view of Vi´s pussy. She could make out her wetness in between her lips. Cait slid her finger trough them, teasing her clit with the collected slick. Vi moaned. Her sound is like music to your ears.

You pulled away from the kiss, Vi following your lips before settling her head on your boobs again. You cought Cait´s gaze, smirking at her, pulling her in by the neck. Your lips connecting right in front of Vi´s face, made her bite her lip. She buckled her hips onto Cait´s fingers, moaning at the feeling of them touching her pussy.

You broke away from the kiss, looking into Cait´s eyes. She suddenly stood up, Vi whining at the cold feeling on her pussy. You watched Cait undress herself, her pants hitting the floor. You chuckled, knowing what she was planning.

She lifted Vi´s leg, placing her own over Vi´s hip. She moaned after feeling Cait´s pussy on her own. They started to grind on each other, moaning and groaning at the feeling. Cait leaned forward, connecting her lips with yours again. Your hands traveling to Vi´s boobs, pinching her nipples, which pulled a whine out of her mouth.

Their noises filled the living room, your own joining after Cait slid her tounge into your mouth. Your mind was spinning. You felt your nipples grazing against your shirt, making you buckle your hips onto Vi´s back.

Vi moaned, feeling overstimulated by the feeling of her clit grazing against Cait´s, your finger pulling at her nipples, Cait´s boobs right beside her face and your hips pushing against her. She felt her climax approach, her moans doubling on volume. Cait´s clit slid against Vi´s, making her cum, her loud moans letting you know that she reached her climax.

Cait slowed her hips, coming to a stop. Your hands left Vi´s chest, laying against her stomach. Vi cought her breath. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Cait´s.

"How you feeling, baby?", your voice pulling Vi from her mind. She sat up answering, "Horny." You chuckled at her answer, placing your hand on her cheek, stroking circles onto her skin. Cait looked at you two, her pussy dripping. She reached for you, her hands catching the bottom of your top, pulling it off of your body.

She smirked at the sight of your boobs, your hardend nipples catching her eyes. Vi watched you both, before pushing Cait on her back. "Let´s take care of you two, Yeah?"

You smiled, watching Vi crawl down Cait´s legs, her mouth reaching Cait´s clit. Both women groaned, one enjoying the taste, the other melting into her mouth. You sprung into action, pulling your pants of and tossing them on the ground. You walked up to Cait, your thighs placed around her face. She opened her eyes, grinning at the sight of your wet pussy. She placed her hands on your hips, forcing you on her mouth. She lapped at your slick, sucking on your clit. You held onto the couch, throwing your head back, a moan leaving your mouth.

You looked over your shoulder, watching Vi´s tounge dissapear into Cait´s pussy. The sound of moans filled the room again, your nipples hard because of the cold air. Yet the room was hot. Sweat appeared your face. The feeling of Cait´s fingers massaging your pussy pulled your attention to her again. You watched her other hand travel up your thighs, her fingers resting on your hole. She stared into your eyes before her fingers sunk into you. You groaned at the feeling of her streching you out. Your warm walls left her satisfied, her mouth connecting with your clit again.

Vi also brought up her hand, coating her fingers with Cait´s slick, before sinking them in. Cait moaned, which made you clench on her fingers. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, moans and groans filling the air, aswell as the sound of the movie, playing on the TV, which was long forgotten. You felt yourself getting closer, Cait´s tounge on your clit and her fingers stroking in a steady rythym, made your climax approach. Your hands cought your boobs, your fingers tugging your nipples.

Your climax hit you like a wall. Your hips riding Cait´s face, as your moans got louder. Your walls thighten until Cait couldn´t move her fingers anymore. You fell on Cait, your arms catching you as you looked down onto her. Cait pulled her mouth off your clit and her fingers out of your pussy, as she felt her own climax approach.

Vi quickend her pace, devouering Cait, as you pulled yourself off of her, your feet catching the ground. Cait threw her head back, a loud whine leaving her lips and her body stiffening. She rode out her orgasm, satisfied moans leaving her mouth.

Vi pulled away from Cait, sitting up as she gave you a proud look.

You loved free days.

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[callmeagardengnome]

✗ sugar and sin ✗ | PARK SEONGHWA

pairings  ✃  mafia! seonghwa x fem! reader

genre  ✃  mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis  ✃  

seonghwa goes above and beyond to eliminate his targets: going undercover in places they go to most. when you happen to spend your time in a secluded bakery, seonghwa decides to bake your treats with doses of poison - yet somehow, you keep surviving.

in which you thought you made a new friend in your local bakery, when in reality - your ‘baker’ keeps mistaking laxatives for poison.

w.c  ✃ 9.1k

c.w  ✃ dark themes, some desc of gore, poison, drink-spiking, kiss scene but no smut, very very slight yandere behaviour, cursing, reader + seonghwa are in their 20s (not too relevant to plot), reader wants to be an architect.

author’s note: ngl, this story ended up a little more wholesome than i anticipated but oh well. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

it was official. you were a walking, unkillable creature sent to test seonghwa’s patience. 

you had to be at this point. that was the sixth poisoned-cream puff he’d given you this week and you were still talking on the phone about some guy you met at work. 

seonghwa’s fingers curled around the register, his knuckles turning white. when was the last time it took him this long to kill someone? five years ago?

time flies by fast - and yet it’s going painfully slow to take. you. out. 

“oh my god, no way-“ you laughed suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. 

seonghwa sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. he turned around and headed for the kitchen. if you weren’t going to die quickly, the least he could do was distract himself. 

“back to baking,” he muttered through clenched teeth. 

1 MONTH AGO - SIGHTSEEING

the early morning was cool, damp and filled with the scent of rain. the light drizzle from the grey sky above pattered against the balcony railing as birds chirped louder than the traffic below.

seonghwa sat on the metal chair, placing his steaming cup of tea onto the small table next to him. 

the balcony door slid open. 

a yawn was heard from behind him. “are you people-watching again?” hongjoong asked, rubbing his eyes. 

seonghwa didn’t look back, only nodding in response.

“you’re on food duty now, remember?” hongjoong stepped onto the balcony, sitting on the chair beside his friend. “you don’t need to look for targets..”

seonghwa leaned forward, mumbling, “is it wrong to have hobbies?” 

the morning rush was in full swing - people running with umbrellas over their heads, cars splashing through puddles and delivery workers speeding on bikes. it was oddly satisfying to watch, especially when you weren’t a part of any of it.

hongjoong rested his chin on his hand. “i don’t pay you to kill anymore. i hope you know this.”

“yeah, yeah,” seonghwa said absentmindedly, like he’d done many times before - though something caught his attention.

his eyes narrowed, focusing on a girl - must be in her early 20s, hurrying down the sidewalk with a large stack of papers in her arms. her steps were rushed, nearly bumping into the people ahead of her.

and then it happened.

she tripped over her own foot, causing her to stumble forward. the papers flew out of her grasp, scattering onto the crowded pavement. she dropped to her knees, scurrying to gather them.

but before she could, a gust of wind swept most of them down the street.

seonghwa got up from his chair abruptly, his tea long forgotten.

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “did you see something?”

seonghwa didn’t answer. his attention was fixed on you, your hands moving as fast as possible to salvage the remaining papers. just as you managed to grab a few, a van sped through a nearby puddle, splashing you from head to toe.

you froze, shivering. and to make things worse, the light rain turned into a heavy downpour. “...fuck!”

seonghwa’s eyes lit up in fascination. 

he’d never seen someone as unlucky, unfortunate and pathetic as you in all of his years. 

you were perfect.

“seonghwa-?”

a slow, almost predatory smirk spread across seonghwa’s lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you - the defeated and helpless girl that stood frozen on the pavement, completely drenched. 

“i found my target.”

2 WEEKS AGO - IT’S CALLED EMPLOYMENT 

the smell of fresh bread and melted butter greeted you as you pushed the bakery door open, the small bell jingling. 

“ah ‘____’!” the old baker, mrs earl, said with a smile. “it’s good to see you again.”

you gave her a bright grin. “i brought you the new crossword,” you placed a folded newspaper on the counter.

“oh honey, you’re an angel,” she thanked.

you waved off the praise, already making your way to the display case. you grabbed your free muffin (it wasn’t technically free, but mrs earl adored you enough to turn a blind eye) and took a bite.

as you ate, she wiped her hands with a dishcloth. “you know, a boy came in today. said he wanted a job.”

you raised an eyebrow. “someone applied?” 

“mhm,” she nodded, her smile widening. “i was quite shocked, he’s very young- around your age.”

“..huh,” you said, unsure of how to respond. it was hard to imagine someone else your age showing interest in such a bakery.

mrs earl’s eyes twinkled as she giggled, “he was such a gentleman, too. handsome, if i may add.”

you grinned. “mrs earl, are you into him?”

she laughed heartily. “of course not! i still have my boys at the country club..”

“..anyways,” she continued, slightly softer. “with him around, i don’t need to come in anymore.”

“...really?”

she nodded firmly. “why not? i think he’s capable enough to manage things while i go on vacation.”

“..if you say so,” you replied, a little doubtful. 

you’ve grown so attached to mrs earl that the idea of someone else stepping in felt.. strange. even then, you quickly pushed those thoughts away. you weren’t going to stop her from having her well-deserved break.

but little did you know - across the street, seonghwa sat on a weathered bench, his eyes following you. 

you were an open book, he realised. your patterns were consistent, your routine almost boring in its predictability. lunch breaks at the bakery. post-work visits for a chat and a muffin. your world revolved around this tiny little bakery that it made you so so easy to track.

it was perfect.

and now all he had to do was wait.

1 WEEK AGO - HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY

holy shit. 

mrs earl wasn’t kidding when she said the new hire was handsome.

a man stood behind the counter, arranging pastries with meticulous care. his hair fell perfectly, right out of a shampoo commercial, while his skin looked impossibly flawless and clean. 

“...wow,” you breathed out before you could stop yourself.

the man turned, his sharp features softened by a slight tilt of his head. 

you blinked rapidly, scrambling to recover. “i mean- hi!” you blurted with a nervous laugh. “i’m ‘____’, i’m a regular here,” you stuck your hand out.

it took a second before he shook your hand, giving you a small, polite smile. “mrs earl told me about you.”

your rubbed the back of your neck. “good things i hope..” you chuckled, earning a nod. 

“you’re..” you looked down, squinting to read the name tag pinned neatly to his apron. “seonghwa..?”

“correct.”

as seonghwa moved to the display case, you couldn’t help but watch him. everything about him was so polished, so graceful - it was like he belonged in the movies. 

when you saw the row of pastries he was arranging, you raised an eyebrow. that’s different. 

he glanced at you. “sorry, i don’t make muffins as good as mrs earl,” he admitted sheepishly. “but i think my cream puffs are up there.”

you stared at the tray of golden, perfectly piped pastries, your mouth watering. “c-can i take one?”

his lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes darkening slightly. “of course.”

PRESENT - PLOT ARMOUR GOES CRAZYY

outside, the world bustled with its usual chaos, but inside the bakery? everything felt calm - too calm for seonghwa, whose patience was wearing dangerously thin.

from behind the counter, he had an excellent view of you. you chatted animatedly on the phone, the sunlight streaming in making you look annoyingly serene for someone who shouldn’t be here. 

“girl- the guy at my office is cutee,” you said as you stirred the remnants of your coffee.

seonghwa’s jaw tightened. the coffee you were sipping had enough poison to kill a sumo wrestler. you should’ve been dead on the floor by now.

so how the hell were you still alive?

blissfully unaware of his glare, you laughed at something your friend said. “are you crazy? why should i make the first move?”

when he first saw you, seonghwa thought you’d be his easiest target yet. he almost pitied you. your sheer unluckiness practically screamed death. 

yet here you were, as if life itself decided to mock him.

as you hung up the call, you stood up and strolled to the counter, rummaging through your bag. “how much do i owe you?”

seonghwa shook his head, sighing. “it’s on the house,” he said. 

you paused, slipping your phone into your pocket. “seonghwa, you really need to stop giving me free food,” you pulled out a ten-dollar bill.

“but i want to,” he shrugged. 

you studied him for a moment, tilting your head. “then can i get another coffee to-go, please?”

his eye twitched.

it was such an harmless request, something seemingly so simple. yet it felt like an insult to his entire career.

still, seonghwa forced a smile, taking the cash. “of course.”

turning to the coffee pot, he poured another cup. when you looked away to check your phone, he sprinkled a little extra poison into the drink - just to be sure.

“thank you so much,” your face lit up as you took the cup from him. “you’re a lifesaver.”

the irony hit him like a truck, but he simply nodded.

as you turned to leave, he stared at the coffee pot, his mind spinning.

how? how?

you were unkillable. immune. an anomaly wrapped in plot armour so thick and absurd it made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name. 

obsession, frustration, fascination - it all blurred together into one singular thought:

he needed stronger poison.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“..helloo?” a hand waved in front of seonghwa, snapping him out of his thoughts.

seonghwa blinked, turning to find wooyoung standing beside him, wooden spoon in hand, his apron splattered in sauces. 

“you’re sanding the plate,” wooyoung smirked before turning back to the bubbling pot on the stove. 

the sound of running water filled the hideout’s small kitchen, together with the clanging of pots and pans. seonghwa stood over the sink, yellow rubber gloves on his hands as he washed the dishes.

seonghwa looked down - and to his horror, he’d been scrubbing the same spot on the plate for who knows how long. a noticeable mark formed, the glaze nearly wearing off. 

wooyoung glanced over his shoulder. “you okay?”

“yeah,” seonghwa replied.

a short silence followed before wooyoung spoke up again. “…you still haven’t killed that girl.”

seonghwa rolled his eyes, nearly breaking the ceramic in his hands. “don’t remind me. she’s invincible.”

“invincible?” wooyoung barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “to you?”

seonghwa’s lips pressed into a thin line, sighing. the memory of the coffee earlier was still fresh in his mind. “my poison doesn’t work on her.”

wooyoung paused. “we have poison?”

“yeah,” seonghwa muttered, rinsing the plate and setting it on the drying rack. “the blue ones in the cupboard.”

wooyoung’s face shifted slowly from confusion, to realisation, to then poorly concealed amusement.

“seonghwa..” he began carefully, facing him. “you know those are laxatives, right..?”

the sponge in seonghwa’s hand nearly slipped into the soapy water. “..what?”

“they’re laxatives,” wooyoung repeated. “i mean, they do look the same, but they’re laxatives.” 

seonghwa stared at him. “those are the only ones left- what happened to my poison?”

“we uh-” wooyoung hesitated, shifting on his feet. “we crushed it up and made paint..”

the air in the kitchen turned deathly still.

“you what?”

“i thought no one used it-!”

“i use it-! who makes paint with pills?” seonghwa snapped, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. “now i have to get more from that dealer.”

“uhh..” wooyoung cringed.

seonghwa turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “don’t tell me..”

wooyoung gulped, nodding slowly. “...san killed him.” 

WEEK 3 - TOUCH GRASS

the sound of your best friend’s voice echoed from your phone as you sat by the window, nibbling on the cream puff seonghwa gave you - again.

“i know this is TMI,” you said quietly. “but i’ve been shitting a lot lately. i don’t know if it's my period or lactose intolerance acting up.”

as you took another bite, the cream puff melted in your mouth, its sweetness making you temporarily forget about your bowel issues. 

rejecting it felt stupid - it was free. sure, it was weird that seonghwa kept giving you free food, but mrs earl trusted him, so why shouldn’t you?

still, you couldn’t quite figure him out. the man had a habit of glaring at you from across the bakery. were you that pretty? yes. but his glares didn’t feel like he was admiring you. they leaned more towards… anger.

your friend on the other end of the call burst out laughing - and you joined her for a moment. but before your friend could reply, your phone screen went black. 

“ugh, seriously?” you grumbled, tapping the screen repeatedly. with an annoyed sigh, you stuffed the dead phone into your bag.

with nothing else to do, your attention shifted. your eyes eventually landed on seonghwa, who was watching you with a blank face. 

it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, right? after all, you see him everyday - and since your phone died, maybe it’s finally time to get some real human interaction in.

you gave him a wide smile. “hey, seonghwa.”

he blinked, visibly startled. “i uh-”

“-why don’t you sit with me?” you asked. “you’re not busy, are you?” 

for a moment, he seemed frozen. but somehow, you managed to convince him to sit across from you.

“so...” you began. “how are you?”

“good.”

you blinked. this wasn’t the riveting conversation you were hoping for.

unfazed, you continued. “how’s work been? stressful?”

he exhaled softly, shaking his head. “it’s fine. how about you? how’s work?”

“it’s alright,” you shrugged. “it’s gotten better since i started coming here. the vending machines at work are always broken.”

he nodded, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “yeah- it’s even more convenient since it’s walking distance, right?”

you paused. 

“...how do you know that?”

seonghwa’s fingers froze mid-tap. 

“mrs earl,” he said finally. “she said a lot of her regulars work in the area.”

“oh, that makes sense,” you said, your suspicions fading quickly. you glanced out the window, your face softening. “i miss her..”

seonghwa let out a quiet sigh of relief, nodding as though he agreed with you.

but inside, his mind was screaming. that was way too close. 

focus.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you kicked your shoes and slumped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. the day had been.. something. your chat with seonghwa was pretty awkward, but more than anything, it made you miss mrs earl.

reaching for your phone, you dialed her number.

“‘____’! my favourite customer,” she greeted cheerfully, the background noise filled with chatter and clinking glasses.

“mrs earl!” you replied. “how are you? are the boys at your country club treating you well?”

“oh, you know how they are,” she giggled. “trying to impress me with golf and fancy dinners. it’s nice to relax for a change.”

you chuckled, sinking deeper into the couch. “that sounds perfect. you deserve it.”

the conversation flowed easily unlike the one earlier. you updated her on the usual - work and office gossip. but eventually, the topic drifted to the bakery.

“i hope the new boy hasn’t burned the place down,” mrs earl began.

“he’s actually a pretty good baker,” you said. “his cream puffs are unreal-”

you paused for a moment before you added. “though i have to say, they make my stomach hurt whenever i eat them.”

the line went quiet.

“...please elaborate,” mrs earl chuckled softly.

“i mean- i don’t know,” you shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “after i eat his pastries, my trips to the toilet are… traumatic.” you let out a small laugh. “but they’re so tasty, it’s worth the lactose intolerance.”

another silence followed, longer this time. you frowned slightly, shifting on the couch. 

“mrs earl?”

her voice finally came through, slower this time. ��that’s.. impossible, my dear.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, sitting a little straighter.

“well,” she began carefully. “the bakery strictly uses oat milk. we don’t use any dairy products in our pastries.”

“...what?”

“the cream, the milk- everything is plant-based,” she continued. “it’s been that way for years. didn’t i tell you that when you first came in?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

mrs earl’s voice broke the silence again. “it could be something else. you’ve been stressed, haven’t you?”

“yeah..” you replied automatically, though your thoughts were far from the conversation.

“take care of yourself, honey,” she said gently. “i have to go, but call me again soon, okay?”

you nodded. “okay.. bye, mrs earl.”

“stay well, ‘____’.”

the call ended, leaving you sitting on the couch, phone in hand. for a long moment, you stared at the screen, her voice echoing in your head. 

the bakery strictly uses oat milk.

MONTH 1 - I WAS SPACING OUT

you sat at your regular table by the window, flipping through your notebook while sipping on your coffee.

you tapped your pencil against the table. yes, ‘traumatic’ was probably an exaggeration for your bathroom trips - but if there was no dairy in seonghwa’s cream puffs, then what was messing with your stomach?

you quickly shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘too weird to think about,’ you thought to yourself. whatever it was, the food was worth it.

you returned back to sketching, taking out your ruler to make straight lines. but as you drew, you couldn’t help but feel a certain someone’s eyes on you. 

“you’re staring again,” you said without looking up. 

a long pause settled over the bakery before you heard a, “..no, i wasn’t.”

you glanced up, a smile tugging at your lips. “wanna see what i’m working on?” 

and that was how seonghwa found himself unusually close to you, sitting beside you as you showed him your sketches - clean lines forming buildings, bridges and intricate floor plans. 

“you like drawing?” he asked.

“yeah,” you nodded, flipping to another page. “i wanted to be an architect.” 

seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly. “then why aren’t you doing it?” 

you let out a laugh. “because i’m broke,” you said simply. “i’d rather work in an office than take out student loans.” 

you flipped through more sketches - some labelled with small notes in the margins while others had more detailed calculations. “it’s just a little hobby of mine.”

seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and the notebook. “this doesn’t look like a hobby,” he muttered.

you raised an eyebrow. “what does it look like then?”

“it looks like something you’re serious about.” 

you paused, blinking at him before leaning closer. “i’m serious about a lot of things, seonghwa- but that doesn’t mean i make a career out of them.”

the silence between you stretched as you flipped through the pages. the energy shifted to something you couldn’t quite explain - and as you tilted the notebook to show him a certain sketch, you realised that his eyes weren’t even on the paper anymore, they were on you. 

you sighed, closing the notebook. as you slipped it into your bag, you noticed how his eyes were still following you, sharp yet strangely soft with concern.

“don’t worry-” you said, smoothing out your clothes. “i’m perfectly content with where i am now.”

“are you?” he asked.

you met his eyes for a moment longer than usual. “yep,” you finished the last sip of your coffee. “how could i not be? free cream puffs and all, right?”

seonghwa didn’t respond.

“thanks for looking at my sketches,” you smiled, turning away. “hope i didn’t bother you.”

as he watched you walk out the door, he let out a slow sigh he didn’t realise he was holding, running a hand through his hair.

he stared up at the ceiling, leaning back into the chair. and for the first time in a long time, seonghwa felt sympathy. 

MONTH 2 - FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC 

over the past few weeks, you developed the habit of waving seonghwa over to join you whenever you stopped by the bakery. what started as polite small talk turned into embarrassing work stories you had.

this afternoon was no different. you sat across from him, coffee in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other, complaining about your friends’ latest questionable decision.

“yeah, she doesn’t listen to me,” you took a bite out of the cookie. “like- why fuck him if you hate him, y’know?”

behind his usual composed self, you caught the faintest twitch of seonghwa’s lips, followed by a sound so soft you almost missed it - a low chuckle.

you froze mid-bite. “did you just.. laugh?”

seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “yeah..?”

you leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. “i’ve never seen you laugh before.”

“i’m sure you have,” he blinked.

“no, i would’ve remembered it,” you shook your head, grinning. “i like it.”

seonghwa choked, caught off guard. before he could even respond or process what you said, his phone buzzed in his apron pocket. he glanced at the screen and frowned.

“excuse me,” he said, heading to the small kitchen in the bakery, leaving you slightly confused.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa pressed the phone to his ear. “what?” he asked.

“i got your poison ready,” san’s voice came through.

seonghwa nearly dropped his phone, swallowing the lump in his throat. “...really?”

“yeah- you wanted it extra strong, right?” san continued. “it took some tweaking, but it’s ready to go.”

the baker’s eyes darted to the half-open kitchen door. he could almost picture you sitting on the other side of it. “right… good.”

this was it. no more laxatives, no more delays.

it’s real now.

the thought of finishing the job left a strange knot in his chest - not dread exactly, but something close to it.

he wasn’t supposed to feel this way - no, he’s never felt this way. his work had always been detached. he never tried to make connections outside of the world of crime, didn’t deal with people who weren’t tied to his web of blood.

not until you came along.

you talked to him like he was.. normal. like he was a regular guy in a regular bakery.

he was finally seen as a person, not a killer. 

it was refreshing. 

“hello?” san’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“i uh-“ seonghwa cleared his throat, realising that he was silent for too long. “just leave the poison on my desk. i’ll get it later.

“sure,” san replied before adding, “but don’t overthink it, okay? just get it done.”

seonghwa hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.

just get it done.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

from your seat, you only caught bits and pieces of seonghwa’s call. you didn’t mean to listen in, but your ears got carried away. 

his voice was low and hard to hear, muffled by the thin walls of the bakery - but one word stood out: poison.

your brows furrowed as you leaned back into your chair, the word echoing in your mind. poison? like food poisoning? did he get it? was that what you had?

you pushed those thoughts out of your mind. after all, what were the odds that your new friend seonghwa said something like ‘poison’ in a bakery of all places? you must’ve misheard.

the door creaked open as seonghwa stepped out, dusting his apron off as he walked back to the table.

“sorry about that,” he said, sitting across from you.

you tilted your head. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he replied - but you swear you caught a hint of guilt in his eyes. “where were we?”

MONTH 3 - THIS ISN’T FUN ANYMORE

you wandered through the aisles that had shelves lined with tools, appliances and decorations. mrs earl invited you out for a little shopping spree, wanting to pick out a few things for her house.

as she inspected a stack of plates, something caught your attention - a small set of colourful forks, each with cute designs of fruits and animals.

“these are adorable,” you muttered as you picked it up.

mrs earl looked over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you liked these things.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “oh- i do, but this is for seonghwa.”

“for seonghwa?” she raised an eyebrow.

“yeah,” you nodded. “he’s always giving me free food. i just thought it’d be nice to get him something.”

mrs earl’s lips curved into a knowing smile, though she said nothing. instead, she patted your shoulder and moved to examine another shelf.

over the past few weeks, seonghwa had become quite a good friend of yours. after all, you saw him everyday and you started to look forward to his presence whenever you stopped by.

and honestly? you’ve been wanting to pay him back for ages. all the free pastries, coffees and times he let you ramble on about work without looking annoyed. he needed.. compensation, if that was what it was called.

you sighed. what if he thought you were weird? well, it didn’t really matter - you wanted to do this.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the bakery was quiet and empty. seonghwa stood at the counter, his fingers gripping a small packet of crushed pills in one hand and the coffee you ordered in the other.

the poison felt heavier that it should, sinking into his palm as a reminder of what he was about to do. his mind spun, his thoughts fuzzy.

was this really happening?

he stared at the packet, his breathing shallow. it took him longer than usual to go near the wretched thing, let alone hold it. now, standing with the poison scarily close to your coffee, the reality set in.

your life was in his hands.

seonghwa’s chest tightened. he could just stop, throw the poison away, pour the coffee down the sink and pretend that none of this happened. after all, no one was forcing him to do this - except himself.

he sighed shakily, his fingers trembling as he began to shove the poison into his pocket.

but then the door swung open. you weren’t supposed to be back yet.

“hey seonghwa-!”

your voice startled him. his eyes snapped to the door as you walked in with paper bags, followed by mrs earl.

“i got you something-“ you said before your smile faltered, your eyes landing on the packet in his hand. “is that.. wait- is that drugs?”

seonghwa coughed, fully shoving it into his pocket quickly. “no- it’s not-”

your eyes narrowed - and before seonghwa could react, you went behind the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out the packet.

“wait-”

your lips parted as you read the label. “...poison?” you breathed out.

the words hung in the air.

your eyes darted to the coffee cup still clutched in his other hand. it was unmistakably yours, your drink order obvious. and it didn’t take long for the pieces to click.

“are you-“ you gulped. “...are you trying to kill me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

seonghwa stood frozen, unable to respond. 

mrs earl, who was trailing behind, looked at the packet in your hand, then at seonghwa.

“what is the meaning of this?” she demanded. she stormed over to him, grabbing a nearby towel and smacking it across his shoulder. “i trusted you with my food! my bakery! and this is what you do?!”

seonghwa flinched but didn’t resist. his eyes, however, weren’t on mrs earl - they were on you.

you were completely still, the poison clutched in your hands. 

seonghwa opened his mouth to say something - anything, but the words died before they could form. you couldn’t even look at him, your eyes wide and unfocused.

ignoring how his chest tightened, he turned and dashed - leaving nothing but silence in the bakery.

mrs earl paced angrily, muttering curses under her breath. but you didn’t hear her - you couldn’t. your eyes remained fixed on the packet, your breathing heavy.

you sat down, throwing the poison far away from you. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder than the last. 

holy shit.

he was going to kill you. 

MONTH 4 - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

you leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms above your head. you powered down your computer, your office building quiet - working overtime seemed more tiring than usual.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder when your eyes landed on a small box tucked into the corner of your desk.

the fork set.

for weeks, you avoided looking at it. the sight of it was a reminder of the bakery - your now-dead friendship with seonghwa and the moment you realised he tried to kill you.

why did you even keep this?

you didn’t want to bring it home. you didn’t want to keep it at all. maybe it was time to throw it away and be done with it. 

you stepped out of your office building, the streets eerily silent. the only source of light you had were the streetlights that shined yellow light onto the pavement.

you clenched the fork set in your hands.

poison.

the word did circles around your mind, sending an uncomfortable feeling throughout your body. was that why your stomach always hurt after eating his pastries? was he actually trying to poison you the whole time?

the idea of it stung. you thought back to all the times you trusted him, to all the times you talked.

was any of it even real?

your thoughts were interrupted by the faint sight of movement you caught from the corner of your eye.

you stopped, glancing to the alley to your left. at first, it was hard to make out what you were seeing, the shadows dark. but then you froze.

a man stood there, holding a gun.

and someone else was infront of him, pinned against the wall.

your breath hitched when you realised who it was.

seonghwa.

his eyes locked onto yours, wide with fear as the gunman barked something you couldn’t hear. his face was bruised, blood smeared along his jaw and soaking his shirt.

you gulped.

this man tried to kill you. you could just.. walk away, pretend this didn’t happen.

you took a step back, everything in your body telling you to leave. but then, seonghwa’s trembling hand reached toward you, his fingers shaking as he silently pleaded.

shit.

you don’t know what compelled you - pity or something else entirely, but your grip tightened on the box in your hand. quickly, you opened it, grabbing the first fork you saw.

without thinking, you chucked it at the gunman.

the fork struck his shoulder with a dull thud, making him whip around in shock, pointing the gun at you.

your heart stopped. this was it.

but seonghwa worked fast.

grabbing the fork, he lunged forward with all the strength he had, driving it into the gunman’s neck.

the man stumbled, choking as he clawed at his throat, slumping to the ground.

seonghwa collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as the fork clattered from his hand to the pavement. blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling around him as he pressed a hand to his side, trying to stop his wound from bleeding.

“...thank you,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

you stared at him, your chest heaving. you stepped closer, looking down at his bloodied state. “damn it.”

seonghwa glanced up at you, his eyes filled with… gratitude? sincerity? relief? or was that desperation?

you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re lucky i’m a nice person.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“i’m sorry-”

“don’t talk to me,” you cut him off, shoving a cold can of soda into his hand.

you brought seonghwa to your office, the only place you could think of where he wouldn’t be found - or bleed out. he sat in your coworker’s chair, guilt written all over his face.

with a heavy sigh, you sank into your own chair across from him, leaning back as you tried to catch your breath.

for what felt like an eternity, the two of you sat in silence, your eyes locked in an unspoken fight. dark red tissues piled up beside seonghwa as he pressed another one to the cut on his cheek, wincing.

you didn’t want to feel sorry for him. you didn’t want to care. but seeing him like this - injured, his clothes stained with the horrid look of blood, made it impossible to ignore the way your stomach twisted.

“...how did you end up like this?”

your words cracked, betraying the hurt and confusion you tried so so hard to bottle up.

“i-” began before stopping himself, his voice faltering. he pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away from you. 

EARLIER THAT DAY

“wha-? you can’t say no, seonghwa,” hongjoong snapped. “this is your job.”

seonghwa slouched deeper into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes followed his boss as he paced around the room. “i don’t want to go.”

“‘i don’t want to go’,” hongjoong mocked, stopping mid-step to glare at him. “i’m not asking you to go, i’m telling you.”

seonghwa stayed silent.

“come on,” hoongjoong ran a hand through his hair. “we got a tip they’re loitering around these streets. the least you could do is check it out.”

‘they’.

aka the drug cartel that had been bothering hongjoong and the group for months. even then, seonghwa shook his head, refusing his boss’s orders.

hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh. “you’ve been like this ever since you failed to kill that girl. you’re depressed- go outside.”

seonghwa’s head snapped up. “i’m not depressed,” he glared.

“right,” hongjoong chuckled dryly. “because moping and lazing around is normal behavior for you. wake up.”

seonghwa bit back a retort, his nails biting into his palms. he wasn’t depressed. he wasn’t.

was he?

a heavy silence settled over the room. sure, the last few weeks have been.. off. he hadn’t been sleeping well. his appetite was nonexistent. and everytime he thought about you, he felt an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite shake.

it wasn’t depression. it was just a.. slump.

he was not depressed. 

seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes. “whatever,” he muttered finally. he pushed himself up. “i better be paid good for this.”

PRESENT

seonghwa gulped, staring at the bruises on his arms. finally, he met your eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “...it’s just my job.”

you crossed your arms. “your job?”

he said nothing.

“seonghwa-” you began, leaning forward. “what kind of job leaves you looking like this?”

his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment - you thought he wouldn’t answer. but then he sighed, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. 

“if i tell you,” he said. “you need to promise me something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “promise what?”

“that you won’t tell anyone.”

a dry laugh escaped your lips. “i’m not promising anything. spit it out.”

“...i’m in a gang.”

“wha-” you stared at him, your face blank for a second before you let out a snort and cackle. “you’re joking, right?”

but when he didn’t laugh, you froze.

“wait- you’re not joking?” you asked, your voice quieter.

he shook his head.

his words hit you like a wave. your mind spun, connecting the dots - the poison, his sketchy behaviour, the guilty look in his eyes - it all fell into place.

“...is that why you tried to kill me?” you asked after a long pause. “what did i do?”

“that’s..” seonghwa trailed off, looking away. “unrelated.”

you rolled your eyes. “of course it is.”

his face softened into something almost remorseful. “i don’t really know how to talk about this,” he said. “but i know i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t have to save me, but you did,” he leaned forward. “and i keep wondering why- because if it was the other way around, i don’t think i would’ve done the same.”

you raised your eyebrow.

“i’m sorry, really,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know what else i can say, but i just.. i don’t want you to think i’m taking any of it lightly.”

you stared at him, surprised by how sincere he was. “seonghwa..”

“i know an apology won’t fix anything,” he said. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“whatever it takes?” you asked, furrowing your brows. 

he nodded quickly.

you scoffed, leaning in closer, your eyes piercing his. “if you really mean that, prove it.”

“i will,’ he said immediately.

“…uhuh,” you looked him up and down before standing, grabbing your bag. “you can start by cleaning the blood off of my coworker’s chair.”

he let out a faint chuckle, though it was more self-deprecating than anything. before you walked away, you paused, turning back to him.

“seonghwa?”

“yeah?”

you stepped closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you. “before you try anything stupid, remember this: i still have that poison of yours.”

MONTH 5 - WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

you had to admit - it was convenient having your own personal assistant, even if the circumstances were… complicated.

it wasn’t like you asked for this arrangement. seonghwa brought it upon himself, showing up whenever you called. 

printer jammed? he’d be there in ten minutes. out of pens? he’d have a pack delivered to your desk. of course you didn’t trust him with tasks involving your drinks or food, but even then - he made himself useful with other things.

over time, you got used to calling him for simple errands - and he never complained. 

it was most definitely awkward though, especially when he tried to make small talk with you.

“..your hair looks nice,” he said once as he stood by your desk.

“thanks,” you replied, not looking up from your screen.

a moment passed. you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow when you noticed he was still standing there. “...do you need something?”

he quickly shook his head, turning away as he muttered an apology.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it amusing. as much as you hated to admit it, having him around wasn’t unbearable. 

as days turned into weeks, the distrust you held so tightly began to loosen its grip. it wasn’t like you forgot what he did, there were just moments when he seemed normal.

“you’re terrible at this,” you smirked, watching him struggle to assemble the new office chair you ordered.

he looked up at you. “i might be terrible, but at least i can read the instructions.”

you laughed.

but then you’d remember.

you’d remember the poison, the fact that this man tried to kill you for what seemed like no reason. 

and everything goes back to square one. 

MONTH 5.5 - T.G.I.F BY KATY PERRY

that friday, your coworkers insisted on dragging you out for a night at the club.

“let’s get wasted!” they said. “it’ll be fun!” they said.

that was probably a lie, but you gave in, changing your clothes before heading out.

neon lights shined erratically, painting the crowd in shifting shades of red, blue and green. bass-heavy music filled the club, so loud that it felt like waves went through your body. it was chaotic and packed to the brim with bodies swaying and stumbling.

it’d only been ten minutes and you already lost sight of your coworkers in the sea of people.

“shit,” you muttered under your breath, trying to find the exit. 

you pushed through drunk, clumsy dancers, finally spotting the door. but as you approached it, two towering men stepped infront of it, their shoulders forming an impenetrable wall.

“wha-?” you frowned, stopping. “i can’t leave?”

they didn’t respond.

“fine, whatever,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. if you were going to be stuck here, might as well grab a drink.

you made your way to the bar, squeezing between a group of rowdy patrons to get the bartender’s attention. but just as you opened your mouth to order, you heard a voice behind you.

“hey, angel.”

you paused, glancing behind to see a man standing way too close. he was quite well-dressed, but an unsettling smirk settled on his face.

“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“can i buy you a drink?” he purred, leaning closer. “i think i’ll regret it if i don’t.”

you blinked. “no, it’s okay-“

“-two shots of tequila,” he called out to the bartender, cutting you off. 

you stared at him, barely processing his words before a shot glass was placed infront of you, the clear liquid weirdly fizzing. 

“thank you, but i don’t-“

“drink.”

before you could react, his hand was at the back of your head, tilting it back as he pressed the shot glass to your lips. the liquid burned as it slid down your throat - making you cough violently while the heat seared your chest. 

“wha- what is happening?” you mumbled. your limbs felt heavy and your head was spinning as your vision blurred. 

the man’s smirk deepened, his face inches from yours as he gripped your wrist. “let me ask you something, angel.”

you blinked, your thoughts sluggish and messy.

“what do you know about a man named park seonghwa?”

the name hit you in the face, your breath hitching. “i-”

his grip on your wrist tightened painfully. “answer.”

“he’s just a baker,” you said quickly.

the man chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “are you sure?”

you nodded, unable to form a response.

he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “then why did he poison my boss a few months ago?”

poison. 

that stupid stupid word haunting you again. 

the man laughed again, low and ominous. “you had a reaction there- you know something i don’t?”

you shook your head weakly, the motion making your dizziness worse. your knees buckled slightly, making you grip the edge of the sticky counter to steady yourself.

suddenly, the man’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, still holding you firmly in place.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “i got his girlfriend right here.”

your eyes widened. “i’m not his girlfri-”

before you could finish, his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your words.

“sleep,” he whispered, your world fading to black.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa laid in bed, staring at the ceiling where his fan spun. with a sigh, he shifted under the covers, letting sleep take over him.

but just as he closed his eyes, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. his brows furrowed as he reached for it.

he swiped to answer it, not looking at the screen. “yes?”

“hey seonghwa,” a low, gruff voice was heard on the other end.

instantly, he was wide awake, sitting upright in the bed. his grip on the phone tightened. “...who is this?”

the voice chuckled. “i got your pretty little girlfriend right here- knocked out like a light.”

seonghwa paused. “...girlfriend?”

“yeah,” the man replied. “the chick you’re always hanging around. surprised you weren’t with her, thought i’d have to put up a fight.”

seonghwa’s blood turned cold as the realisation hit.

you.

he didn’t waste another second. he hung up immediately, throwing off the covers as he leapt out of bed, grabbing his jacket.

his footsteps echoed through the hideout as he stormed toward jongho’s room. he barged through the door without knocking, startling jongho who was hunched over his gaming setup.

jongho spun around in his chair. “what the hell-?”

“trace this number. now,” seonghwa shoved the phone into jongho’s hands.

jongho blinked. “i’m in the middle of a game.”

“i don’t care.”

jongho groaned, taking his headset off as he tapped the phone screen. “fine.”

seonghwa paced around the room like a caged animal - his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm himself down. if they’d taken you, it was most definitely his fault. 

“got it,” jongho said after a while, typing something into his laptop. “you want me to track the phone too?”

“yes-” seonghwa snapped. “hurry.”

jongho glanced up at him, his brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”

“someone has her,” seonghwa muttered.

jongho’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “i thought you were over her?”

“wha- no,” seonghwa glared at him. “just find her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you slowly woke up, your head throbbing. your first attempt to open your eyes was met with darkness. no - something pressed against your face. a blindfold. 

your body felt stiff, the coarse bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. inhaling shakily, you realised something else: your mouth was muffled by a towel, trapping your cries before they could escape.

panic ran around your mind as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. the surface beneath you swayed gently - and you could hear the occasional creak of metal together with muffled voices. a vehicle. you were in a moving vehicle.

but out of nowhere, you heard a shout.

“shit!”

the vehicle swerved violently, the tires screeching against the asphalt with a sound sharp enough to make you wince. your body jerked with the motion, the restraints keeping you in place. tears spilled beneath your blindfold, your breaths shallow and rapid against the towel.

the screeching came to an abrupt stop, followed by the jarring slam of a door.

what came next was a symphony of screams and the sickening, wet sounds of a blade piercing flesh, bodies hitting the ground. you clenched your fists, trembling.

the next door opened. 

another scream. 

another stab.

then silence.

your chest heaved, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. was this it? were you next?

then your blindfold slipped away.

your eyes fluttered open, the tears caught in your lashes making your eyelids feel heavy. when your vision eventually cleared, the first thing you saw was him.

seonghwa. his face splattered with blood, his dark eyes wide as he searched yours. his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

“are you okay?” he asked, removing the towel from your mouth.

tears spilled down your cheeks faster now, your emotions overwhelming you in a way you’ve never felt before.

seonghwa’s face softened as he wiped your tears with his thumb, the blood on his hands smearing across your skin.

he moved to the ropes binding your wrists and ankles, his hands working quickly. 

“i’m sorry,” he said softly. “i’m so sorry- shit. i should’ve stayed away from you.”

the moment you were free, you threw your arms around him. he stiffened at first, caught off guard, but then his hands moved to your back.

your body shook against his as you cried. over his shoulder, you saw the man at the bar - his lifeless body crumpled on the ground, stab wounds dotting him.

“i’m so sorry,” seonghwa whispered again, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “this is all my fault.”

you pulled back slightly, your face still wet with tears. his hands stayed on your shoulders. “did they hurt you?” he asked softly.

you shook your head.

the vehicle fell into a heavy silence, the only sounds being your sniffling.

seonghwa gulped. “i’m sorry-”

“-thank you,” you said at the same time.

both of you froze, your words overlapping.

you chuckled, tears still clinging to your lashes.

“i’m really sorry,” he said once more, his voice cracking.

you studied him for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, the blood on his skin and the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“...were you sleeping?” you asked, noticing the pajama shirt peeking out from under his jacket.

“yeah, i was about to.”

your eyes widened. “you saved me even though you were about to sleep?”

he raised an eyebrow. “was i not supposed to?” 

you stared at him, stunned. “...thank you.”

MONTH 6 - JUST DO IT

you’ve been staring at the text for hours, the words glowing on your phone screen.

let’s meet up.

seonghwa sent it to you that morning. no follow-up, no explanation, just those three words. and yet, they felt more heavy than you could even imagine.

what could you even say?

you tried to distract yourself, grabbing your laptop and scrolling through social media, but nothing held your attention for more than a second. your mind kept drifting back to the message.

your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with another notification. not him. but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the text again.

let’s meet up.

‘he saved you-’ you reminded yourself. ‘-but he also tried to kill you.’

it should’ve been simple. black and white. a clear boundary between trust and mistrust. but nothing about seonghwa was simple.

when you thought about him, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the poison or the lies. 

it was his hands, trembling as he untied you. 

it was his voice, breaking with regret as he apologised. 

it was the way he looked at you, like he didn’t deserve your forgiveness but was desperate for it anyway.

you hated it.

you hated that he saved you. hated how jumbled your feelings were.

and most of all, you hated how much time you spent thinking about him and his stupidly flawless face. 

you groaned, tossing your phone onto the couch. “this is ridiculous.”

this wasn’t what you needed right now. you grabbed your bag and went out the door. maybe grocery shopping would clear your head.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the store was crowded, filled with after-work shoppers. you walked aimlessly, picking up a few essentials here and there, but your mind was still on that text.

you stopped at the fridges, grabbing a drink. but as you turned to place it in your basket, you collided with someone. “watch it-” you began.

your words fell short when you realised you bumped into seonghwa, his phone in one hand and an awkward expression on his face. his eyes widened - and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“hey,” he said finally.

you blinked, letting out a nervous chuckle. “hey,” you raised your free hand in a small wave.

“...can we talk?”

you nodded slowly. “yeah,” you put your drink into your basket. “what’s up?”

seonghwa glanced around, looking at the other shoppers nearby. “maybe not here.”

you nodded, heading to the checkout line without another word.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you sat beside seonghwa on a wooden bench, your grocery bag resting at your feet. the both of you settled down in a park, a quieter and less busy place where you could actually breathe.

you reached for your drink, opening it. “thirsty?” you asked, holding it out to him.

he shook his head.

“i didn’t poison it,” you smirked.

seonghwa gave you a look, his ears turning pink. “you know i feel bad about that,” he muttered.

you chuckled softly, taking a sip. “sorry, sorry,” you said, turning to face him fully. “what did you want to talk about?”

he paused, hesitating as he fiddled with the edge of his jacket. “i just wanted to apologise,” he said finally.

you sighed setting the drink aside. “seonghwa- this is the hundredth time you’ve said that.”

“i know but-”

“i forgive you,” you said, your mouth moving faster than your mind.

his head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “what?”

“i forgive you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.

“...really?” he asked, completely shocked.

“yeah,” you shrugged. “you saved me. and it’s not like i can stay mad at you forever.”

seonghwa blinked. “you definitely can,” he said. “i wouldn’t blame you for it.”

silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. 

his fingers brushed against yours accidentally - and he instantly pulled his hand back, his face turning a shade of red. “oh my god- i’m so sorry-”

“seonghwa,” you interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently - his fingers slightly calloused. “stop apologising.”

“i can’t help it,” he admitted quietly.

everything seemed to come to a standstill.

the distant sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling faded into the background. your eyes locked, time pausing.

neither of you spoke.

slowly, almost unconsciously, you both leaned closer. the faint warmth of his breath brushed against your lips, uneven and nervous, mirroring your own.

you blinked, your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how close his face was to yours. “woah..” you whispered.

seonghwa immediately leaned back, clearing his throat. “sorry-”

before he could retreat any further, you reached out instinctively, your fingers curling around his jaw - his skin hot under your touch. “stop saying that,” you mumbled, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.

he froze, his eyes searching yours for something - permission, reassurance or maybe a blend of both.

you saw how he looked down at your lips for a split second, his adam’s apple bobbing. “...is this okay?” seonghwa breathed out shakily. 

you smiled softly, your thumb tracing slow circles on his jaw. “of course.”

the moment his lips pressed against yours, the world disappeared. 

his shoulders relaxed as he leaned into you, his hand rising to cup your cheek. his touch was careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you in some way.

your lips moved together in a soft, slow rhythm, the warmth of him spreading through you like a comforting fire. 

the sensation was intoxicating - and you found yourselves melting into each other’s touch. 

seonghwa’s breath hitched as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. his heart pounded against yours, a blush creeping up his neck, leaving him lightheaded.

when you finally pulled back, your lips were tingling. and before you could say anything, seonghwa leaned forward again, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.

“hey!”

a voice broke the moment like a needle popping a balloon. both of you jumped, your heads snapping toward the sound.

a parent stood not too far away, their hands clamped over their child’s eyes. “please do this at home or something,” they said, glaring at the two of you before walking away quickly.

you and seonghwa exchanged a look, your cheeks flushing as you tried to stifle your laughter.

“yeah,” he said, looking into your eyes, then at your lips. “let’s do this somewhere else.”

series taglist [OPEN] - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2 @devilzliaison @scary-thingz @gaonashi @jonghosbrainrot @mintchocoyum

BONUS SCENE - CUE THE MARIACHI BAND

you stirred awake to the faint aroma of something tasty wafting through the air. groggily, you rubbed your eyes open, only to find seonghwa standing by the bed, a tray in his hands.

“happy anniversary,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile.

you pushed yourself up on the pillows, your eyes wide with surprise as you took in the tray - a plate of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs.

“thank you..” you mumbled, half-asleep but touched by the gesture.

seonghwa stepped closer, carefully placing the tray on your lap. he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “eat quickly,” he said with a hint of excitement. “i got you something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i thought we said no gifts this year.”

he shrugged, smirking. “i lied.”

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. you grabbed a piece of bread and started eating. it was perfect, just like everything he made.

when you were finished, you slid out of bed, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself. you walked to where seonghwa was, sitting next to him.

“seonghwa,” you began. “we agreed- no gifts.”

“i know,” he said, reaching for something on the coffee table. “but i changed my mind.”

your eyes landed on the envelope in his hands. you stared at it as he handed it to you, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s this?” you asked, taking it hesitantly.

“open it.”

sliding your finger under the seal, you pulled out a letter. as your eyes skimmed the words, your jaw dropped.

“...is this-?”

“yeah.”

“you paid for my school?!” you exclaimed in disbelief.

he nodded. “you wanted to be an architect, right?”

“i do but..” you looked at him in shock, the letter trembling in your hands. “isn’t it expensive?”

“so?” he leaned closer to you, pulling you gently towards him.

your lips parted, trying to form words. “but you paid in full-”

“it doesn’t matter,” he cut you off softly, pecking your cheek. “i wanted to do it. for you.”

you searched his eyes, completely stunned. he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. 

when you eventually pulled away, he didn’t let you go fully. instead, he smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “happy anniversary.”

deleted scenes | other fics

[scorpiosbite]

actress!reader x drew starkey social media au

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── what you got up to, your first week in LA through social media.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: these posts were made during actress!reader’s first trip to LA, so around august 2024 at this point of actress!reader and drew’s relationship timeline, they’ve hooked up once and went on a date together. actress!reader is going to remain in LA for the time being to film her new movie ‘anora’.

yourusername

liked by drewstarkey, madelyncline, bellahadid and others

yourusername swore i’d never like LA… still don’t, fucking love the people tho

view all comments

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tayrussell damn you’re so hot

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mimikeene i miss you bby come back to london

yourusername i miss you more wifey

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yourusername mwah baby

bellahadid y/n active era? we prayed for times like this!!

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yourusername says you babes

y/nstitties HOLD ON Y/N HANGING OUT WITH MADELYN DOES THIS MEAN SHES MET THE REST OF THE CAST??!???

targaryenstan yea, paps got pic of her and obx cast at a club

rafeswhore DREW IN THE LIKES I REPEAT DREW IN THE LIKES

y/nsno1fan HE NEVER LIKES PEOPLE’S POSTS, I SHIP!!!

sitonmyfacey/n i’m beating my shit to this rn

sitonmyfacey/n just came, 10/10 nut

ilovey/n she’s so mommy, but so daddy

visenyasdragon FUCK SHES ACTUALLY POSTING!!!!

drewsballsack DREW IF YOU SEE THIS HOP ON THAT MAN!!!! SHE SO FINE #NEEDTHAT

tmz

tmz Y/n L/n and Madelyn Cline seen arriving at an downtown LA club this past weekend, the two stars were seen partying with the rest of the Outer Banks cast, with the Game of Thrones star seen getting hot and heavy while dancing with a particular man.

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y/nvisenyatarg WHO????! WAS IT DREW?!? PLEASE PLEASE LET IT BE DREW!!!

starkeystan OMG PLEASE YES I SHIP SO HARD!!

y/nismother WAIT WAS IT DREW??!! cause i’ve been shipping them ever since maddie said in that interview that she made the cast watch GOT and drew blushed when she mentioned y/n and they way they both say their honoured when complimented is soulmate shit

y/nsspinetat I SAW PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT THAT ON TT

daddyy/n my friend was at the club it was drew

y/nismother HOLY SHIT

daddyy/n yea, they were grinding and apparently left together

y/nsspinetat NO HE STOLE MY GIRL!!!!

y/nnews

y/nnews Y/n will be living in LA for the next few months while she films her new movie “Anora” by director Sean Baker, the film rights have been purchased by A24

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y/natoenails damn i’m so proud of her

randomuser she fucking killed it on the first season of GOT, can’t believe that was her first acting gig, im so excited to see her do this film

y/nfan what’s her character like in this?

y/nmylove shes a stripper

y/nfan oh im gonna flood that theatre

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully

ok, here's the first instalment of the social media au of actress!reader x drew starkey enjoy and let me know what you think!!!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU

Link to Part Two

Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.

So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.

Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"

Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.

To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.

"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."

Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.

"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"

And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"

It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"

"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"

"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."

"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."

"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"

Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.

It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"

"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."

But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.

There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"

"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"

And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.

"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.

Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"

Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"

Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.

And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.

Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-

"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"

Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.

The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."

"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."

"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"

Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Twelve.

previous (chapter eleven). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - And throughout it all, no matter what - there was Lacie.

pairing - dad’s bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - cursing. alcohol consumption.

word count - 5k

authors note - to all my girls who have their girlfriends backs no matter what, who wipe their tears and fix their hair and tell them everything is going to be okay, who will always pick up the phone regardless of the time or place… this one’s for you.

masterlist. inbox.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Honey, please. You’re making me nervous.”

You foot stills where it was banging against the cabinet, the words halting your movements. You’re perched up on your kitchen counter, watching as Bucky makes you breakfast, both of you illuminated by the morning light. He’s shirtless and wearing short shorts that show off the tanned, corded muscle of his thighs, skin all sun kissed and begging to be bitten.

There’s an energy coursing through your veins, prickly and warm. You woke up feeling like this - uneasy and on edge - like a grey cloud was looming in the distance, getting closer with every passing minute.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he moves to stand between your legs, warm hands splaying across your thighs.

“I’m fine,” you answer a little too quickly, avoiding his gaze. “S’nothing.”

Bucky takes your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmurs. “I can feel your anxiety in my chest. If it’s bad for me, it’s gotta be awful for you.”

“I don’t know what it is,” you whisper, playing with his fingers. “Just woke up with this… feeling.”

He leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, lips warm on your skin.

“Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed, baby. We’re going out.”

“But what about breakfast?”

“We’re bringing breakfast with us.”

You stare at him for a moment, before nodding and hopping down from the counter. Padding across the kitchen tiles, you make your way into your room, your nerves too fried to worry about what your soulmate has planned.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The world passes by in a blur as Bucky speeds down the road, the steady roar of his truck soothing the buzzing in your bones. You arrive at your destination before you know it, coming to a stop next to a familiar path.

“Our house,” you breathe, looking out over the coastal plot.

“Our soon to be house,” he smiles, slinging an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him. “Thought we could have a breakfast picnic.”

“That sounds… perfect.”

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat to settle your nerves.

“Come on, honey baby. Let’s put down a blanket and eat while the everything is still warm.”

You get settled on the old, worn throw that Bucky keeps in his trunk, looking out at the ocean view that you’ll be blessed with for the rest of your lives.

“I may be the baker here, but you’re a damn good cook, sir.”

You practically moan as you bite into the sandwich, rolling your eyes when your soulmate can’t help but laugh at you.

“You blow up my ego too much.”

“Well, someone has to, I suppose.”

He shoves you in the shoulder lightly, chortling at your dramatics when you throw yourself backwards.

“If you’re done with the theatrics, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, sitting up and finishing your breakfast. “Show me, Buck.”

He reaches into the picnic basket, pulling out rolls of paper and unfurling them in front of you.

“Official house blueprints. Got them all printed properly so we can mark them up and make adjustments.”

You run your fingers over the designs, trying to picture it all in your head. You trace journeys through the house - living room to kitchen, bedroom to bathroom, front door to backyard. Bucky watches you, gentle smile etched almost permanently onto his face. He wishes, for a moment, that he could speed up time - that the house was built and finished, so he can swim in the pool with you on Sunday mornings, stay up late watching movies on Friday nights, listen for your car pulling into the driveway after a long day at work in the week.

“I’ve been thinking about the little things, you know. That I’d want in the house.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile, all hopeful and content, and every worry Bucky has ever had vanishes into thin air.

“Tell me.”

“I think we’re - I’m - gonna need a pantry. If I try new recipes at home, I have to buy copious amounts of flour and sugar and all that jazz. I think a pantry would make everything a little bit easier.”

Bucky pores over the blueprints, pointing at a certain area of the spacious kitchen.

“We could add one here? Build the walls into this cove section, close it off.”

“Perfect,” you grin, leaning over to kiss him sweetly.

He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, allowing the warmth of your skin to seep into his.

“Also,” you murmur against his lips, “I was thinking that we should make sure the shower is plenty big enough for two people. Hmm?”

Your soulmate groans, closing the gap between you to press a kiss to your smirk.

“I agree,” he hums. “I couldn’t agree more, actually. Might put a bench in there for good measure too. You know, just in case.”

You can’t help but chuckle, pecking him again before sitting back to get a better look at the designs.

“As long as I’ve got lots of kitchen storage and countertop space, I’m happy. Everything else is a bonus. I could live anywhere with you and be happy, actually.”

Bucky’s looking at you like you are the sun, bright and blinding and brilliant. A couple of years ago, if anyone looked at you like this, you’d have shied away, shrunk into the shell of yourself to avoid the gaze. Now, you revel in it, soaking up the warmth that being the centre of someone’s universe brings.

“I love you so much, my honey. And I can’t wait to build you a house.”

“I love you so much. And I can’t believe you’re going to build me a house. I mean, how many girls can say that?”

You shift over to slot yourself into Bucky’s side, the heavy weight of his arm around you anchoring you to the present. Resting your head on his shoulder, you try to exhale all of your anxiety, focusing on the coastal view instead.

Your eyes are drifting closed when you’re startled back to reality by your phone ringing. You grab it and show it to Bucky, who smiles at the sweet picture of Lacie that lights up the screen.

“Hey, Lace.”

“Hi babe! Has your Mom texted you?”

“Not this morning, no. Why?”

“I just bumped into her in the grocery store, and she invited me over for dinner tonight. She said we’re well overdue a catch up, just like old times. I figured she’d call or text you when she got home.”

“Ugh, that sounds amazing. I’ll call her in a minute and double check the details, but… I can’t wait.”

“Yes, call her! I’ll bring both red and white wine, just to be sure. I’m so excited you wouldn’t even believe. It’s been too long since I’ve spent the evening with my second family.”

“And I’ll make you that cake you like for dessert, the raspberry and peach one.”

“Eeee! You’re the best. See you tonight, babe!”

“See you tonight, Lace. Love you.”

“Love you too. Later!”

You’re grinning when you press the red button to hang up, content with the sudden addition of evening plans. Bucky presses a kiss into your hair, happy to see you the most relaxed you’ve been all morning.

“You wanna join us, Buck?”

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you in so you’re sat in between his legs, back to his chest.

“No, it’s okay. It’ll do you good to have a night with your family, honey. Besides, I have like two weeks worth of laundry to catch up on.”

“Stop it. I’ll be having fun with my best friend and you’ll be… doing laundry?”

“Might clean my oven, too.”

“Stop,” you laugh, leaning back into him. “You’re making me feel guilty.”

“Well,” he hums against your ear, “seeing as they’re stealing you away from me tonight… how about we go sailing today? Promise I’ll get you back in time to get ready for dinner.”

“I’d love that,” you breathe, twisting around to plant a kiss on his stubbled jaw. “We haven’t been out on the boat in forever.”

“Then let’s go, honey girl. The ocean awaits us.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Being on the sailboat with Bucky takes you right back to the day after your Tethering.

Salty breeze whipping through your clothes, sun beating down on your skin, wooden boards creaking beneath your feet. Your soulmate stands on the deck in his pale blue linen button up, adjusting the sails with experienced precision. He’s the image of grace, like a statue made of marble carved by an ancient sculptor.

“You thinking about that day?”

You didn’t even notice he’d moved, too fixated on his backlit silhouette and how beautifully broad his shoulders look.

“Yeah,” you grin, propping yourself up on your elbows where you lay. “That was a good day.”

“Yeah, it was.”

He sits down on the deck in front of you, rubbing circles into your calf with his thumb.

“A lot has changed since then, huh?”

“Yes and no. We’re still just as clueless about the soulmate stuff as we were back then,” you chuckle. “But we’re happier now. Less afraid.”

“And we still haven’t talked to your parents about it.”

“But we will. Very soon. Oops.”

Bucky shakes his head, smiling as he does it. You move to sit in the space between his spread legs, allowing his arms to wrap around you and cage you into him. The two of you stay like that for a while, embracing the calmness that time has brought you.

You close your eyes, slowly letting yourself relax as the gentle waves and the anchoring of your soulmate ease your nerves. Bucky hums lowly into your hair, a tune that you can’t quite place your finger on.

“Have I heard that before?” you ask in a murmur.

“Maybe. It’s an old song, my mom used to sing it to us as a lullaby.”

“That’s sweet.”

The mental image of a tiny little Bucky all wrapped up in his blankets while his mother sings to him is almost too much for your heart to handle. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the melody.

“You never talk about her.”

“Hmm?”

“Your mom. You never mention her.”

“I don’t really have much to say.”

You contemplate it for a moment, before deciding to just bite the bullet.

“You know my mom mentioned something about your sister the other day, and I had to sit there and nod and pretend that I already knew it. When in reality, I didn’t even know you had a sister, Buck.”

You can feel him tense up behind you, muscles going stiff where they’re wrapped around your arms.

“It just never came up.”

“Never? In almost two years of us being soulmates, it never came up?”

Bucky’s silent - perhaps the most silent you’ve ever heard him. The sound of the ocean waves is suddenly amplified, filling the empty space.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, honey.”

“Anything. Literally anything. I just… why do I feel like I don’t know anything, all of a sudden? Your family, your upbringing, nothing.”

“Because it’s not relevant. I’m not just gonna bring it up out of the blue for no reason.”

“I’d say our pasts are pretty relevant, Buck. They make us who we are. I’m not gonna sit here and push you to talk about something you don’t want to talk about, because that’s not fair. But I also don’t think it’s fair that you know everything about me, and I feel like I don’t really know that much about you.”

You’ve turned in his arms, sliding back so you can face him from a distance. You’re expecting him to look angry, or sad, but instead he looks… guilty. Caught out, even.

“You know more about me than anyone else in this world does,” he says eventually.

“Maybe. But I couldn’t tell you your mom or sister’s names, where you grew up, any of it. It makes me feel like there’s a piece of you, however big, that you just don’t want me to know.”

“I… don’t know what to say.”

“Okay. Well, neither do I, anymore.”

The two of you sit for a minute, waiting to see if the other one has anything else to add.

“We’ve done this in the wrong order, I think.” You’re whispering, but he hears you loud and clear. “We think we know each other just because we’re soulmates, but we don’t.”

He goes to interject, so you continue quickly.

“We’ve avoided tough conversations because we thought it’d make things easier, but now they’ve come back to bite us. Buck… do you know how much we haven’t talked about?”

He bites at his bottom lip, gaze never leaving yours.

“We’ve not spoken about marriage, or kids, or any of that stuff. I mean, do you even want kids? Do you know if I do? Would you want to get married? God, did we think that by not having these conversations that they’d just… go away?”

“I- I didn’t want to scare you off with the hard topics too soon. You were overwhelmed at even having a soulmate, never mind marrying or having kids with one.”

“Yeah, but Buck… we’re past that now. We should be able to talk about everything, and we’ve just pulled the wool over our eyes in blissful ignorance.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his windswept hair.

“I don’t have the time that you do.”

“Hmm?”

“Kids. On my next birthday, I’ll be forty. I don’t have the time to wait around, wondering and debating if I want kids or not. You can wait another ten years if you want to - but I can’t.”

The reality of that statement hits you like a freight train, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“I can’t be an old dad. A little older, sure. But no one needs their dad to be fifty when they’re a baby. Seventy when they’re twenty one. Dying when they’re not even forty yet.”

A tear slips down your cheek, landing on your thigh with a tiny splash.

“I’m not ready for kids,” you confess quietly. “And I don’t know when I will be.”

Bucky nods in understanding, careful eyes taking you in.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

In this moment, nothing anyone says will make anything any better. You can feel each others sadness in your chests, blue and heavy and constricting.

Bucky sails you back to shore without another word, both of you quietly contemplating. He drops you off outside your apartment building, the roar of his trucks engine the only sound that can be heard. You gently rub your thumb over his cheekbone where he’s caught the sun, before picking up your bag and unlocking your front door without looking over your shoulder.

You can’t bear to meet his eyes. You don’t dare to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You spend the rest of the afternoon baking.

It takes your mind off of everything, at least temporarily. You throw yourself into the recipe you’ve made at least ten times, all for Lacie. This is her favourite thing you create, and you’re absolutely determined to make it perfect for her.

You place the final raspberry on the top of the cake, and burst into tears.

It feels like everything you’ve built - that you believed was solid - actually has cracks running throughout. You want to convince yourself that you’re not mad at Bucky, but you think that maybe you are. He’s made the conscious choice to never share parts of his life before you with you. Even knowing that he didn’t do it with any malicious intent doesn’t seem to make it any easier.

Taking a deep breath, you pop the cake in the refrigerator to keep it from melting, before making your way to your bathroom. The water you splash on your face makes you feel a little more alive, the coolness of it shocking you back to reality.

You inhale, watching your reflection in the mirror as you exhale shakily. A noise from your phone rings out from where it sits atop the vanity, a text from Lacie lighting up the screen.

-

From: Lace <3

Can’t wait to see you tonight babe!! Are you wearing a skirt, or are jeans the vibe?? Shorts maybe?? Send me a pic of your outfit <33

-

You smile as you type your reply, picturing her face in your head as she reads it.

-

To: Lace <3

No outfit picked yet - will let you know what I decide. Definitely not wearing jeans, skirt is a maybe. Made your cake though <3

-

You press send and hop in the shower, hoping that the hot spray of the water will wash away some of the tension in your muscles. Trying to turn your brain off, you decide to focus all your attention on getting dressed and ready, putting on some music and pouring yourself a glass of something fruity.

Tonight will be a good night. You’ll make sure of it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You wait for Lacie out on the street, just like old times. If she was ever coming over when you were kids, you’d stand at the end of your driveway, too excited to stay on the front porch.

She tries to run towards you, but her wedge heels don’t let her get too far. She hobbles over instead, half hopping, half jumping to get to you faster.

“I am so excited!” she practically yells into your ear as she hugs you tightly. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Lace,” you laugh, “I saw you last week.”

“Too long!” she declares, grabbing your hand and leading you towards your front door. “Let’s have the best night ever, yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s.”

Your parents are overjoyed to see Lacie again.

“You got taller, kid?” your Dad asks as he ruffles her hair, much to her dismay.

Your Mom’s laughing, shaking her head as she pulls her in for a quick cuddle.

“You look beautiful, sweetie. Have you changed your hair? Is it lighter?”

“You like it? Did it a couple of months ago. Wanted a change.”

“I love it. I need to make an appointment with you soon, I’m well overdue a cut.”

“I’ll make space for you anytime, Lori. Just text me and I’ll fit you in.”

“Wine, anyone?” your Dad yells from the kitchen doorway. “Lacie, I know you’ll have some!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she teases, giggling. “But yes, I will. The biggest glass you have, actually.”

You grin as you sit down to your place at the dinner table, Lacie taking the chair next to you. She’s already launched into a story about a nightmare client at work, making all of you double over with laughter.

The stress leaves your body the more you smile, all four of you wrapped up in this perfect bubble of nostalgia and friendship and memories and love.

Just like old times.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We’re going for a walk. You girls want to come?”

Your parents are stood hand in hand in the doorway, looking at you expectantly.

“No thanks, you two go ahead. Think we’re gonna have a drink on the porch.”

“Okay, sweethearts. See you later.”

They’re giggling at something when they leave, the melodic sound of it hanging in the air behind them.

“You wanna raid the bar cart?” Lacie asks, looking at you with mischief in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, standing up and pulling her with you.

The two of you find a bottle of coconut rum, half empty but still in date. Your best friend holds it in her hand as if you’ve discovered buried treasure, face lit up with excitement.

“Let’s sit out the back, maybe see some stars.”

You get cosy on the porch, both of you curled up under a blanket to keep the evening chill at bay. You pass the rum back and forth, content to just be in each others company again.

“Remember when we were like sixteen, and your Dad caught us trying a cigarette out here?”

You smile at the memory, casting your mind back to that day you sat in this very spot.

“And instead of yelling at us, he told us that we were lighting it wrong?”

“And then he called us losers while he walked off laughing.”

You both shake with laughter, recalling the look on his face.

“I thought we were so grounded, but then I just felt kinda lame.”

“That’s my Dad for you. He’s always had his own method of parenting. And honestly? It’s worked pretty good so far.”

Lacie looks at you with a measured gaze before taking your hand in hers.

“Have you guys talked to your parents yet? About everything?”

“No,” you reply a little too quickly, bottom lip wobbling. “Not yet.”

“Hey, hey.”

She scoots over so she’s practically sitting in your lap, legs tangled with yours under the throw as she slings an arm around your shoulders to pull you close.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You didn’t realise you were until she said it, now feeling the warm tears drip down your face. There’s a lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of, and you wonder momentarily if it’s your sadness or Bucky’s.

“Me and Bucky had a bad day.”

“What happened?”

Her fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into the skin of your shoulder, her soft eyes watching you encouragingly. She’s always been the most patient person with you - as if she knows you’ll tell her everything eventually, even if it takes you a while.

“I just had this - this, this sudden realisation? That I don’t feel like I actually know that much about him, or his past, or his family. And when I said this to him, everything got weird and tense and he was all closed off.”

“Did you ask why? Why he hasn’t shared this stuff with you?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “He told me he just didn’t have much to say.”

“Well that’s not really an answer.”

“Exactly. Am I being crazy? You’d tell me if I was being crazy, right?”

“Of course I’d tell you, you know I would. And you’re not being crazy. He’s so involved with your family, so why shouldn’t you at least know a little about his?”

“This is what I mean,” you breathe, relieved that someone finally understands. “He’s purposefully never mentioned his parents, or his upbringing. You know I only found out he has a sister last week?”

“Woah. That’s… that’s kind of a big deal.”

“I just don’t know if he could see it from my point of view when we talked about it today. And I didn’t want to push and push just in case I pushed too far, because that isn’t fair and he wouldn’t do that to me. But at the same time… sometimes he closes himself off, whether he realises it or not.”

She squeezes you tightly, reassuring you with a simple gesture.

“I love you. You know that babe, don’t you? Even if we don’t see each other as much as we used to. I love you more than anything.”

She’s only making you cry harder, a mixture of happy and sad tears.

“I know, Lace. I love you so much.”

She rests her head atop yours, hands and hearts intertwined on the back porch.

“I just…” you take a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. “I’m sad. And I’m angry. I’m angry that this is the hand I’ve been dealt. Not Bucky - never Bucky - God he’s the best soulmate I ever could have asked for. But I’m mad that we’ve had it so hard. Soulmates are supposed to be easy and simple and written in the stars and all I’ve felt is stress because our Tethering is so complicated.

I feel so uncertain of the future and who I am and who I want to be. And I never used to feel that way, but Bucky has changed everything. I love him so much, and that has altered my entire life and my entire future and the way I look at and think about the world.

I guess I’m just sad, at the end of it all. Because this should have been a magical honeymoon period for us, and instead it was filled with so much worry and hiding and confusion. And how is that fair? Why do some people have it easy, and others don’t?”

Lacie takes your face in her hands, forcing you to look into her big green eyes.

“Listen to me, babe. Nothing worth having ever comes easy.”

You’re expecting her to continue, but she doesn’t. She just watches you process, thumbs wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

“Nothing. Worth. Having. Ever. Comes. Easy.”

You’re nodding, letting her words sink in.

“You’ve been dealt a tough hand. You’re right. But when has that ever gotten you down before? You’ve always picked yourself up, dusted yourself off, and kept going. It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”

A ghost of a smile threatens to take over your face, and she laughs.

“It’s true. And it’s not going to solve itself overnight. It’s going to require a lot of talking, a lot of listening, and a lot of patience. But the two of you will do it. Because you’re soulmates, and you’re meant to be. Literally.

Have some time apart, put a little space between you. And then come back together and work through this. It’ll do you both some good to take a step back and look at everything from a different perspective in a few days. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, tucking her hair behind her ear so it stops blowing into her face. “Yeah.”

“And you know where I am if you need to talk or rant or scream or cry or all of the above.”

“Always,” you chuckle, resting your head on her shoulder. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

The two of you abandon the rum, instead choosing to make some tea to drink out on the porch. You watch the stars for hours, just like you did when you were kids.

“You wanna have a sleepover tonight?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If Cameron doesn’t mind.”

“He won’t, don’t worry. I’d love to.”

Your Mom and Dad watch through the kitchen window, as the two girls who were once four years old running around the garden are now grown women, sitting out on the bench and holding hands like they used to.

They’d pause time, if they could. Just for a moment.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You feel like giggly teenagers when you both snuggle up under your blankets in bed, the light of the moon casting shadows across your features.

You’re all tucked up, facing each other and whispering in the dark. These would be your favourite nights when you were kids, especially during the summer. The promise of no school tomorrow, staying up and sharing secrets until the early hours of the morning, trying to keep your voices down so your parents didn’t hear. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed it until now.

Lacie moves a piece of hair away from your face, her manicured nails against your skin making you shiver. She reaches for your hand under the duvet, linking your fingers firmly.

“You know, I was never worried about meeting my soulmate,” she murmurs into the dusk. “I was always excited, but never worried.”

“You weren’t? How come?”

“Because I’ve had a soulmate since I was four years old. And she is the most important thing I have. Even if I never met my romantic soulmate, I would have been okay - because I know what true love is.”

A tear slips down your cheek and onto your pillow as you shuffle sideways, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m so lucky,” you sniffle. “And emotional. I think the rum has gone to our heads.”

Your best friend laughs a little too loud, both of you trying to muffle the sound with your hands.

“I’ve always been a teary drunk,” she chuckles, squeezing your fingers. “Before we both fall asleep because the wine has hit us, let me just say that I’m proud of you. Going to California, having the courage to come back, opening yourself up to Bucky… all of it. You guys will be just fine.”

“Yeah, we will. I couldn’t have done any of it without you, though.”

“We make a good team,” she grins.

“We always have. We’ve had twenty years of being a good team.”

“Here’s to twenty more,” she whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“And twenty more after that,” you whisper back, snuggling into her.

You fall asleep like that, still tangled and clutching each other’s hands like you’re children again. You can almost feel the love in the room, all warm and soft and glowing.

No matter what happens… you’ve known what true love was since you were four years old. And that is something that no Tethering can replicate.

tag list

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[courtofblooming]

my favorite elriel fics. 🦇♡

a long masterlist of my all time favorite elriel fanfictions on ao3, after being a fan of this couple for 4 years. all these fanfictions are special to me and i hope i can help other elriels that have been looking for recommendations. ✧・˚

— info: all completed fics. <3

!! ₊ ˚ ୨୧ ⋅ ̥ യ . 𖥔

“Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow” by Violetasteracademic, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf, forbidden love, angst, fluff, smut, long fic. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54831724/chapters/138983473)

“A Court of Bones in Bloom” by ladyveravincent, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf, forbidden love, long fic, slow burn, eight court theory, angst, eventual smut. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58554709/chapters/149179024)

“Pretty Little Angel” by DottieLovegood, canon compliant, elriel’s story after acosf with a twist, BDSM, azriel owns a club, smutty. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30617429/chapters/75532637)

“Freshly Baked” by elainsroses, canon compliant, series with three oneshots in it, fluff and domestic, elriel are together and happy, baking, kisses and a pregnancy plot, pure fluff. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2759089)

“Wildest Dreams” by tswaney17, canon compliant, established relationship, elain and azriel’s children, happy endings, pure fluff, elriel have a little family together, soft azriel. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55844830)

“Stargirl” by duskandcobalt, canon compliant, elain and azriel are spending some time together when elain has a vision, smut, sneaking around, secret relationship, stolen moments, kitchen sex. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50867182/chapters/128505301)

“For A Taste Of You (I Will Do Anything)” by keeparecordofthewreckage, one shot, post acosf solstice, smut and smut and angst, set on starfall, did i mention smut? (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36913843)

“A Tapestry of Dreams and Reality” by ImaginativeInk, canon compliant, elain’s cauldron powers, elain and azriel find themselves in the mystical realm of dreams and their connection continues to unfold. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53269846)

“Be still, my foolish heart” by roselensedeyes, canon divergence, adoption, original characters (children), adopted children, elriel are mates, wedding + pregnancy, elain volunteers at an orphanage in velaris. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/50680402/chapters/128026141)

“Love Confessions, Meddling Brothers and Raspberry Tarts” by obisidian_witch, canon compliant, angst with a happy ending, secret relationship, secrets, chosen love, post acosf, elain learns the truth about what transpired on that dreadful solstice night, from both azriel and rhysand. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/57625048)

“Across the Hallway” by tswaney17, modern au, elain is a baker + azriel is a detective, small fic (5 chapters), elain has a cat! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39325395/chapters/98412099 )

“Night of Wings and Roses” by ThatTrable, canon compliant, fluff and angst, post acosf solstice, feyre as the wingwomen. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43561515)

“all’s well that ends well (to end up with you)” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, set on acofas solstice, elriel are mates, the bond snaps in front of everyone, potatoes. ♡ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40069968/chapters/100352508)

“To Dine Like Gods” by elainsroses, canon compliant, pure smut, body worship, azriel has found god between elain’s thighs. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56211508)

“Too Sweet (for me)” by slythrhys, canon compliant, forbidden love, pure smut, secret relationship, azriel can’t get elain out of his head. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55180729/chapters/139943131)

“Kneading Dough” by tswaney17, canon compliant, one shot, fluff and smut, in the kitchen, mostly smut + shadow play (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40041990)

“Crimson Clover” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, blood kink, azriel reacting to elain carrying out an extreme act of violence, protective elain, auntie elain, lain protects nyx, its bloody. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42530709/chapters/106825986)

“Bound in Ivy” by yourstarsmyscars, canon compliant, secret relationship, elain’s powers, forbidden love, smut, elain has a secret, azriel wants to find out. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46678417/chapters/117559789)

“The Bet” by DottieLovegood, modern au, pure smut, established relationship! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34488118)

“I Do Bad Things with You” by tswaney17, modern au, long fic, mob boss azriel, doctor elain, angst and smut, ex lovers + slow burn. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31926901/chapters/79064530)

“Woman Made of Flowers” by yourstarsmyscars, medieval au, enemies to lovers, azriel kidnaps elain, azriel and elain are from enemy kingdoms. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44467921/chapters/111848692)

“We Don’t Have To Dance” by Separatist_Apologist, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, set on hewn city, elain makes azriel quite literally beg on his knees, jealous azriel, elain taking her revenge after the solstice, smut. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44899510)

“The Pointe of Love” by pinkrasberryfish, elriel + nessian centric, modern au, nesta and elain are prima ballerinas, they dance at the velaris ballet company. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43076520/chapters/108246912)

“Freefall” by yourstarsmyscars, one shot, canon compliant, elriel angst, pining, smutty ending, post solstice, yearning. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43696293/chapters/109975251#workskin)

“The First Solstice” by NikeTheStatue, one shot, canon compliant, re-imagining of the acofas solstice in azriel’s pov (headache power + gardening plans till 3am) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43749949)

“Breathless” by miss_belivet, one shot, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, forbidden love, smut, sneaking around, elriel do the dishes after a family dinner. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46398019)

“Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones” by citizenofvelaris, azriel and elain sequester themselves in the townhouse, mating bond frenzy, elriel are true mates, some peace and quiet. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53212210/chapters/134650879)

“Guilty As Sin?” by fawnandshadows, one shot, modern au, elain moves to a new apartment after her breakup and gets a hot firefighter as neighbor, azriel is a firefighter. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55702369)

“6/8” by Shulkitten, alternative universe - music, azriel plays the piano, one shot, vanilla elriel, smut and fluff, elain has a hand kink, azriels is elains piano teacher. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40513584)

“Touch Me, Hold Me, Tell Me” by miss_belivet, canon compliant, post acosf solstice, azriel disobeys rhys orders, plot what plot?, forbidden love, secret relationship, azriel is feral, elain is his princess. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53566822)

“Under the Weeping Willow” by duskandcobalt, canon compliant, forbidden love, secret relationship, sneaking around, azriel and elain have their best time at the garden at night. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/53309260)

“I choose you and me, religiously” by slythrhys, canon compliant, one shot, forbidden love, secret relationship, sneaking around, fluff and smut, clandestine meetings, sweet & spicy. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55701385)

“The First Flight” by NikeTheStatue, canon compliant, one shot, set on acowar, azriel flies Elain from the house of wind to the townhouse. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56840626)

“Cruel Summer” by citizenofvelaris, canon compliant, forbidden romance, secret relationship, smut, elain finally finds some relief from the hot summer nights of Velaris. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46476226/chapters/117022795)

“Gasoline” by yourstarsmyscars, modern au, one shot, smut, azriel is a biker, azriel agrees to teach elain to ride a motorcycle, it’s not the only thing she wants to ride. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42909471)

“crumbs” by Demarogue, canon compliant, established relationship, fluff and smut, baking, kitchen sex, elriel future, sometimes, learning how to bake is foreplay itself. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42695196)

“Silver Linings & Raspberry Fortunes” by slythrhys, modern au, bartender au, fluff, flirting, azriel is a bartender and elain is in a blind date. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55628383)

“Let Me” by obisidian_witch, canon compliant, established relationship, elain is in love, azriel is in love, fae cycles, pure fluff, it’s that time of the month for elain, lucky for her, azriels sole purpose in life is to care for her. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58103275)

“The Housewarming” by hozierhys canon compliant, post acosf, fluff and smut, forbidden love, getting together, or five times Elain and Azriel almost kissed, and the one explosive time they did. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54361855)

“Salted Cashews” by NikeTheStatue canon compliant, a fic inspired by the the “fated mates” quiz on sjm’s website, fluff, elain gets azriel. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56795722)

!! ₊ ˚ ୨୧ ⋅ ̥ യ . 𖥔

the end.