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#one is just much more embarrassed than the other
kenntolog · 2 days
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𝝑𝝔 an: taking a lil break from writing requests but the inbox is still open, all the information about requesting is here!! do whatever you want hehe, i will come back here a little later, i need to study, bye now!! love you all <33
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cool boyfriend sukuna usually doesn’t care what you wear, content with the clothes you choose — normally something bleak and not eye catching at all. but when he asks if you own skirts and you say ‘no’ he feels like it’s his duty to buy you one.
(he just really wants you to dress up in something he buys you and maybe be a little perverted about it. but he’ll try to keep to himself, he said as he imagined your pretty figure in something short and skimpy.)
which takes you both to this moment here;
“i feel silly, ryo!”
“maybe if you’d get out of the damn bathroom i’d see what’s the deal with that.” he shouts impatiently from your room, and you’re sure that he’s rolling his eyes as usual.
you whine at his words, covering your face with your hands before you look at yourself in the mirror one more time and peek your head out of the bathroom. sukuna’s laying on your bed like it’s his own, legs spread out comfortably, one arms under his head while the other holds his phone above his disinterested face.
“sukuna?” you call out meekly, his head immediately turning in your direction. he throws his phone away and sits up against your headboard.
“come out and gimme a show, loser,” he smirks at you, one finger luring you in.
you sigh heavily and come out shyly, staring down at your feet. the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin is a bit foreign; just like the skirt, the frilly hem of it barely touching the middle of your thighs. the matching top isn’t better, sitting just a bit higher than the waistband of the skirt.
sukuna’s silence makes you want to hide under your bed, but that’s not the best option so you opt to head back into the bathroom, too self-conscious to look at your boyfriend. he doesn’t let you though, fingers closing around your wrist to stop you.
sukuna, on the other hand, looks at you like you’re dream come true, his eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly hanging open. he steps away, turning from side to side to get a better look at your pretty figure, taking in the way the skirt and top reveal your skin and the pink that matches the colour of his hair suits you so perfectly.
“‘kuna~” you whine, covering your face in embarrassment, but sukuna is quick to pry your hands away, the wide grin on his face making you feel all warm inside.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he smoothes back the hair out of your face, unable to resist the softness of your expression as he places a couple of kisses on your pink lips.
“i am?”
“the prettiest.” the scream you let out is, thankfully, internal. “gimme a twirl now.”
you giggle quietly, obeying his words and spinning around bashfully as he chuckles along with you.
“‘m gonna buy you a closet full of skirts and dresses.”
you’re pretty sure your face is going to melt from how much it heats up, his words having too much of an effect on you. you whine his name again, leaning your head against his shoulder and the smile on your face is so wide that sukuna feels it against his skin, putting his hand on top of your head lovingly.
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murdrdocs · 3 days
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masturbation mention; handjobs; college!art; fem!reader; no spoilers MDNI 18+ w/ ART DOANLDSON
when art donaldson gets a boner, it's nearly impossible for it to go down. he's tried everything in the book. well, everything in patrick's book—taking a cold shower, thinking about his grandmother in her underwear, changing his position. but nothing has ever worked, leaving him to excuse himself at inconvenient times so he could fist his cock until he was satisfied.
but being here with you, art can't do that. he's already flaked on your study sessions one too many times and he really, really doesn't want to have to flake again. for a reason as trivial and embarrassing as a boner at that.
he really didn't mean for it to happen. but he just happens to be in your space, surrounded by your trinkets, watching you move around in a pair of shorts that reminded him of the pair tashi wore that night. which got him thinking about the situation he was in just a year ago. which made him imagine you and him in a situation similar, perhaps even with tashi and patrick there.
you're speaking to him. your hands are moving in patterns that art should recognize, and you're lips are moving, too. but he's distant. distracted.
he blinks twice, shaking the overgrown blond curls out of his face as he fixes his gaze on you again.
"'m ... i'm sorry. what were you saying?"
you drop your hands and place them in your lap. you look disappointed.
"dude. i'm really trying to pass this midterm."
art drops his head. he initially does it in an act of shame, but then he notices your hands resting along your glistening skin and he's suddenly made aware of his boner once more. he groans, resting his elbows into the decorative pillow covering his lap as he covers his face with his hands.
"i know, i know. i'm really, really sorry." he sniffs, straightens up, and focuses all of his attention on studying with you. but now it's you who's distracted.
you tilt your head and eye him up and down. art, worrying that you might have fucking x-ray vision or something, adjusts the way he’s sitting. he thinks he's being casual, but then he clears his throat and looks off to the side and he can hear your small 'oh'.
“haven’t tried thinking about your grandmother?”
art, embarrassed at having been caught, says nothing.
“want me to help you out?” you offer. you say it like a joke, so art laughs. but then you don’t laugh, too.
you’re staring at him, a small smile on your lips as you push your weight into your hands behind you. the twin XL bed can only allow so much room, so even as you’re leaning away from him art feels like you’re right there.
“you’re joking, right?”
you take a second, and then you shake your head.
and that’s how art ends up digging his hands into your sheets as he watches your hand glide over his cock through heavy eyes.
you’re sitting with your feet tucked under your butt, one hand scratching through art’s hair and the other working on his cock.
art’s free hand is pressing into the line of skin between your top and shorts.
you’re doing so well, making him feel so good, but you still ask for confirmation through a low voice.
“does this feel good?”
and your face is so much closer to him than he thought. your voice is right next to his ear. it travels down through him, making even more blood rush to his cock if even possible.
art nods, tearing his eyes away from your hand wrapped around his cock to look at you. but you’re already looking at him, your hand pulling on a loose curl of his while you smile. art smiles back, just before you pull him closer and press your lips to his.
kissing distracts you, so art takes over. he shifts his cock up into your hand, doing the work for you. he circles his hand around your back and pulls you closer until he can feel your breasts pushing against his arm through your shirt. whatever bra you’re wearing must be thin, because art can feel your nipples poking him.
he means to warn you. he wants to let you know before it happens. but you regain some of your focus and your thumb presses into his tip, and he’s thinking about how you told him he had a pretty dick, and he can feel your tits and suddenly his hips are lifting and cock is twitching and he’s cumming all over your hand and his thighs.
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sahkuna · 3 days
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SHOW ME HOW
SEPERATE ! sukuna + gojo showing you the other ways they like to get you off— other than their dick. a/n can u tell that I was listening to/inspired by show me how by men i trust…
content warnings: 18+ minors dni, sukuna x afab! reader, gojo x fem!/afab! reader, fingering (sukuna), cunnilingus (gojo), ooshy gushy wet ass pussy (from you, ooo), gojo uses the term "good girl" once and only once!
divider by cafekitsune
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SUKUNA RYOMEN
You want to crawl and hide.
The light behind your bedroom’s closed curtains begins to fade and grow dimmer, effectively casting your room into a dark and shadowy state setting for a serene and comforting scene. However, right now you felt anything but calm.
You swallow down another wave of embarrassment that confronts you once you hear the wet squelching coming from between your legs. Despite how you fidget and make a feeble attempt to squirm off the bed, Sukuna keeps your back firmly pressed against his broad chest. 
“Listen,” Sukuna murmurs, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you to bring emphasis to the noises you were making. His fingers prod at your walls, curling up against that one spot that makes your thighs squeeze in on themselves. “You hear that?”
Yes. Of course, you can fucking hear it. The room was so quiet that you could hear your next-door neighbour’s conversation if you reeeally strained your ears.
The unmistakable sounds of your arousal and pussy being played with by the hand of another were all too much and all too loud. It was clear you were enjoying this, and you found yourself growing more and more shy the longer Sukuna dragged out stimulating your body.
Fervently shaking your head, you bite back a wanton moan that threatens to pour out once you open your mouth. Instead, you choose to exhale a bratty, “No.”
Sukuna doesn’t bite though. He brushes past your stubborn nature to toy with you some more. You feel the heel of his palm press down meanly against your clit, which evokes a small whimper out from you. “You like lying, huh?” 
Before he pulls his hand away, his middle and ring fingers make a small scooping motion and gather all the slick accumulated between your thighs. Without hesitation Sukuna brings it to eye level, showing off the mess you made on his hand. 
“Look at that...” His thick, long fingers spread apart, only connected by the wet glistening string of your arousal. “Looks pretty wet to me.”
You press your eyes shut and twist your face away from Sukuna’s taunting hand. If you could, you’d bury yourself into the material of his sweater right fucking now.  “Quit talking like that!” you whine, knocking his hand away from your face. “Just… get on with it already!”
For a second, Sukuna doesn’t move and you’re worried you may have pissed him off a little. The only thing to go off of to determine his mood is the slow rise and fall of his chest. 
Then, you feel something. You’re relieved to find that his hand has slid its way back down to your inner thigh. It squeezes once, then twice. “You asked me to show you, right?”
More like begged. You’ve never orgasmed from just your fingers before, often growing too frustrated to keep up the slow build-up towards your climax and immediately jumping to something more convenient and alleviating to get the job done.
You give him a sheepish nod. Your own eyes skate down to where his hand rests, teasing your most sensitive areas.
“So, let me show you.” It doesn’t take him long for Sukuna’s fingers to go back to slipping up and down your folds, pressing gently at the entrance of your cunt before he dips inside once again. 
A warm haze clouds your thoughts, so much so that you don’t realize that the same squelching sounds that you shied away from tripled in volume as Sukuna began to finger you with more fervour. “You just sit there and stay quiet.”
“Ah!” You cry out, when his other hand slips down, the pad of his fingertips roll sensually against your clit. His ministrations prompt you to curl in on yourself and you suddenly become hyperaware of the rising, hot sensation of tension building right below your navel until it finally breaks. “Oh my— Fuuuck…” you heave.
Whatever you say or exclaim next gets lost in translation. With your eyes screwed shut, you orgasm hard against Sukuna. Your back pushes up against him, trying to escape his hands as he continues to overstimulate you. 
“Or don’t.”
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GOJO SATORU
“Stare too hard and I’ll kill you, Satoru.”
After the expression of your threat, striking blue eyes flick away from the lower half of your scantily dressed body and drag up to gaze at your flustered, scowling face. 
Your comment hits him like a feather would to a ton of bricks. It does nothing. “To die between your thighs would be a wonderful way to go.” He says, right before doing the very thing you asked him not to do.
Long, delicate fingers gently trace the lining of your lace panties. Careful not to put too much pressure, his fingertips skim the band of your underwear. “You’re too tense,” Gojo comments from beneath you, still eyeing your clothed cunt. “You’ve gotta relax or it won’t be enjoyable for you.”
Your brows furrow with confusion and you shift a bit on the plush bed, seeing if that’s what he meant. “I am relaxed. What do you mean?”
His eyes soften at this. Propping himself onto his elbows, Gojo rises from where he once lingered near the seat of your panties and positions himself so that you’re caged between his arms.
“You telling me you’re gonna ‘kill’ me if I stare at you too hard is not relaxed and you know it.”
Something warm and knowing bubbles in the pits of your stomach, being this close to him aware of what’s bound to happen next has got you in this heady trance. Exhaling softly, you shudder a quiet, “I know.”
White wisps of his hair tickle your cheeks when he presses a chaste kiss below your ear, grazing your jawline. With his lips still on your skin, Gojo asks, “You gonna let me look?
It’s a simple question, but it has you squeezing your legs trying to dull the wanting ache throbbing between your thighs. Your hands find purchase onto the soft white linen of his bedsheets and bunch them into your hand. You offer Gojo a steady nod.
“Yeah?” He inquires to which you nod again, watching with unwavering eyes as Gojo lowers himself back down to where he was between your legs. “Yeah… good girl.”
Holy.
Your breath is quick and heavy once Gojo closes his eyes and mouths at your clothed pussy in a slow manner, taking his time with you. You’re not even bothered by the fact that he hasn’t moved your underwear to the side… yet.
His fingers are back to fiddling and teasing around the lace. “Satoru…” You practically purr his name, prompting him to smile— one that you feel— against you.
Gojo gives you a few more seconds of his tortuous teasing before he withdraws his mouth from you to tug down the black lace covering your slit. Once he gets them off he tosses them unceremoniously behind him into a random corner of his room.
He rests his cheek against your left thigh and sighs. Glossy, pink lips split into a slow, lazy smile as he takes in all of you.  “Y’know, I’ll still take you up on your offer…” 
Your eyes can barely open, too blissed out and waiting for the moment you’d feel his pink tongue dart out to press into you to gauge what your boyfriend’s saying. “Hah?”
“Of dying here.” Gojo’s hand smooths down from your hips, fingers grazing your folds to spread you wide open for him. “So beautiful. So, so beautiful,” he continues. 
Your body temperature runs hotter when you clock in the fact that he’s talking to your pussy. You’re just about ready to reach your hand down and press your palm against his forehead to steer him away.
“Shut— Ah!” You cry out the moment Gojo’s mouthing at your cunt, tongue sloppily pushing past your folds with his nose nudging at your puffy, sensitive clit. Your back arches off the bed when his tongue brushes up a particularly tender spot inside you.
Throughout it all, the licking, the sucking, the fingering, Gojo’s large hand finds yours and grasps it. While he eats you out, his fingers thread between yours— it's an innocent action, really, but it has your heart leap into your throat. He grips you a little tighter and holds you a little closer with each and every high-pitched exclamation you let out.
When Gojo pestered you over and over about the things you haven’t tried in bed before, he was shocked— and albeit relieved— when you told him you’ve never been eaten out before. Let alone, orgasmed from it. He begged, convinced, and promised you that he’d show you how good it feels to have your breath stolen away through other means.
There’s a fluttering sensation that tremors throughout your body, most prominent where Gojo’s mouth is currently pressed. Pulling away, you peek down at him once more with glassy eyes. He looks perfectly debauched.
He buries a secretive smile into your thigh. “How many times do you think I could get you to do that?” He asks.
If anything, it was Satoru who’d be the one figuratively killing you tonight.
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charliemwrites · 4 hours
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Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
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You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)
You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.
“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.
“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.
“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”
“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.
The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”
“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
“Maybe,” you allow.
“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.
“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.
“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”
Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.
He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.
“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.
You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”
He groans. “Five. Minutes.”
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.
“This is fine,” he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.
Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”
You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”
“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”
“I set an alarm?”
You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.
“Yeah, next time.”
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
“Where was this?”
You frown. “At the grocery store…?”
“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”
You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.
The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.
As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
“Careful,” you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”
“I know, but I like this shirt.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”
You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”
“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”
Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”
He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”
“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.
“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”
You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.
“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”
“You two,” you sigh happily.
He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”
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siscon-stsg · 1 day
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Can we get Toji’s daughter pleasing him after a stressful job 💗
(CW: incest, name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, brat, etc), toji calls reader 'princess' a few times, toji-levels of bad parenting, daddy kink ofc, chokehold, rough sex, cockdrunk reader, titty slapping, teasing, a weird mix of degradation and praise i think, begging, toji cums on reader's chest and face, toji makes one joke about prostituting reader)
i'll let you guys know i am physically unable to thirst for toji because my daddy issues are just like tHAT, but i did my best for y'all guys, if this ain't a proof of how much i love you idk what is. ~BLOSSOM
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TOJI is not an exemplary dad, though that is something you already knew. it was almost fun how little effort he put into hiding it, even laughing sometimes that you'd expect him to be better. him.
“brat, i'm home,” you heard him grumble from the main door before he slammed it shut. you barely acknowledged with a hum from the comfort of your own cramped bedroom, such as was usual between you two; never the type to interact much. TOJI hadn't been home for well over a week, barely letting you know through a phone call that the job he'd taken proved to be more difficult than it seemed.
for a few long minutes, TOJI was but a ghost in the apartment, the one sound indicating he was even there being the water running form inside the bathroom. and as you made your way to the kitchen, looking for something to drink, he coincidentally walked into the adjacent living room, leaving the bathroom in a puff of steam.
water droplets ran, still warm, down the outline of each muscle and vein and scar; stopped only by the towel that hung suspiciously low around his hip. black hair was damp, carrying with it the scent of that cheap shampoo he'd get on a discount pack.
maybe you focused a bit too long on the other hairs tho, the ones trailing down his belly to his crotch. maybe.
“your brother?” TOJI asked, in a tired mumble, as he plopped down on the couch with a sigh; head tilted back, manspreading even when he didn't have boxers on. you averted your eyes from the hot embarrassing sight your father made, taking a sip from your glass of tap water, throat feeling oddly constricted all of a sudden.
“out. didn't say where,” you answered, honestly. you and your younger brother megumi hadn't been in the best terms since he turned into a teen. knowing TOJI would be home any minute, tho, megumi usually disappeared.
the knowledge that you two were home alone didn't sit right in your belly. though at this point, it was hard to discern whether you loathed these moments with TOJI, or looked forward to them.
thing were never very normal between you anyway.
the non-committal, husky hum your dad made only proved he, and you, were on the same wavelength after all. it didn't require much more than a simple “c'mere” from him to feel your legs, though jiggling like jelly, take you across the kitchen to the living room, to couch, and then to him.
TOJI's hands were always so big, rough and heavy, even when he wasn't applying any force. he squeezed them just right on each of your hips, pulling you down until you took your usual place on your daddy's lap.
“'m tired,” he grumbled, hands absent-mindedly rubbing your thighs, following the curve they made up to your ass. he pushed your body closer, digging his fingers just enough on the squishy flesh to make your breath hitch. “and i won't see m'payment 'til a few more days, cuz the shitty client's mad the job took more days than we agreed on. so,”
without warning, one of his hands tangled in the roots of your head, gently tugging until your mouth slanted over his. his kisses were sloppy, filthy, even when they had no tongue.
“y're gonna help daddy out”
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“who y'runnin' away from, lil' girl?”
TOJI's voice was a husky, breathy mess. a deep growl compared to your high-pitched moans and squeaks; and nothing on the filthy, wet slap of his thighs on yours.
he was spooning you from behind on the couch, both fully naked. but when you tried to run away, TOJI snuck an arm under you and curled it around your neck; thick bicep bulging, chin slotted right in the crook of his elbow. the wheezing sound you let out got a chuckle out of him.
“such a bitch, runnin' from my cock. after i work my ass off f'you and your stupid brother”. TOJI spoke right into your ear, relishing each shiver and whimper he got out of you. it was either the bass his voice doing it, or the slap of his balls against your clit, or his toned muscles practically molded against your smaller frame.
“s-... so-...!” your brain was broken beyond the point of coherency, but still you felt like he expected a response. “AH!” only that this particular one earned your tit a slap and a nasty squeeze.
“don' say sorry, you slut, jus' take my fucking cock. yeahhh, like th'tt”. TOJI growled, momentarily slowing down just to bully his thickness slowly, from fat tip to even fatter hilt, inch by punishing inch. his pubes were a sticky mess of your pussy juices that so unapologetically dribbled down the couch. “pussy's so wet 'n tight, might start t' think you were waitin' f'me to do this”.
TOJI slipped out of you with a nasty squelch, manhandling you onto your back and dragging you like a rag doll to kneel between your open thighs. his fat cock rubbed fast and slick against your drooling slit, your chest heaving each time it caught on your pretty clit.
“daddy!”
“yeah, princess?” he hissed, teasing your hole only with the head, then he pulled back and kept rubbing at your sloppy cunny. “what' d's my girl want?”
you could barely even think. when TOJI was inside it felt like you'd never get used to his sheer girth and all, but... now you didn't have him and it just felt like your body was missing something; empty.
whining at this, pathetic and through tears, your hips bucked into his. your daddy answered so nicely by pinching your clit until you cried out.
“use y'r words, slut. or 's your brain fucked out already?”
TOJI hovered over you, trapping your body oh so right under his mass and height. the tenderness in which he sought your lips and tongue only made your fuzzy brain even more dizzy.
“yeah... thatta girl,” he purred when your legs lifted and wrapped around his hips. hissing as his tip caught your hole once again, this time your daddy didn't pull back: instead he grabbed your chin, grazing your bottom lip with his thumb as he said: “now speak”.
“y-your cock, please”. your squeaked plea made him chuckle. “please, need it s'bad!”
“hmm, can' wait?” TOJI murmured; hissing as he slowly, slowly sank back to the hilt. “such a whore for y'r daddy's cock...”
he barely gave you a breath to adjust before resuming his previous pounding. it got you screaming, nails digging into his back and heels into his hips as your daddy battered your cervix to tears.
each thrust made it more and more difficult to breath, you were even surprised the old couch managed to keep up with TOJI FUSHIGURO slamming into your pussy like he hated it. your belly felt more and more tight and stiff, thighs caught in between being tense to break and jittery.
“dad-! daddy!” you wailed between choked gasps. he groaned into your neck, calloused hands bruising your skin from how hard he was gripping onto your hips.
“cum f'me. c'mon, bitch, cum on this cock!”
two or three thrusts more, and your body snapped. all the moans you'd been choking on came out in a pathetic, sobbing, loud whine, body trashing from the sheer strength of your orgasm that made you forget about the neighbors. your eyes rolled back and you floated painfully on cloud nine, for long enough that it made you question if you dreamed the whole thing.
but no, because your pussy squeezed so hard it tore an actual moan out of TOJI and you heard it. he pulled out in a frenzy, kneeling over your chest as his thick fist blurred in vicious strokes and
“shit!” your daddy came. over your chest, some of your face; specially when he nudged your red cheek with the dripping tip, slowing down more and more with each stroke as he throbbed through his orgasm.
TOJI savored it, licking his lips and brushing the hair out of his handsome face: the sight of his pretty daughter with cum, his cum all over her skin, was a sight he'd pay to engrave behind his eyelids.
“fuck... you're good at this,” he panted, grinning down at your fucked out face. “how much would they pay for a pussy like yo-? ow! don't hit me, you fucking brat!”
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astonmartingf · 6 hours
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WE COULD HAVE A GOOD TIME —
— you ended up on this random stranger's bed and suddenly the next thing you know you're moving in with him to raise a baby
P1 ★ WHAT DO YOU GET WHEN YOU KISS A GIRL?
amgf implied sex, unprotected sex, ons thingy? look don't do this in real life, even if the person is as hot as jenson!!!! use plan b and stay safe! okay hehehehe so this was supposed to be the first part but i had internal issues so i made that part zero, enjoy this 👍
previous ★ masterlist ★ next
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"You're earlier than expected, I assume things went well with her?" Mark raises his head, greeting Jenson who just arrived.
Jenson shifts to the side revealing the woman from the night before. "She's here with me actually..."
You reveal yourself from the side, waving at the two drivers sitting at the table. "Hello, I'm YN." Stretching your hand, before taking a seat next to Jenson and the Spaniard from across the table.
"I'm sorry if this is unconventional for you, but I wanted to get over with the NDA before you left." Jenson starts a conversation with you, ensuring to keep his voice down to a minimum knowing both drivers aren't exactly trying to hide that they're listening in to his conversation with you.
You shake your head waving your hands off, "No worries, I guess it's better eating while waiting instead of being stuck in the hotel room waiting in awkward silence. It is unusual since one night stands usually involve more fucking than talking—"
The driver beside Jenson coughs, caught off guard at your statement causing you to chuckle at his reaction. "But, considering the situation from last night... this was probably inevitable." You shrug it off continuing to eat the waffle in front of you.
The Spaniard beside you raised his brows, "You seem normal about this, no offense but have you done this before?"
You nod your head, "One night stands, not much but I'm fairly knowledgeable in NDA's, I'm studying law. And before you get worried, no I won't find a loophole to talk about this, I can maybe help you drag a good NDA if there are clauses lacking. But considering you offering the NDA maybe it's you who have done this before?"
You turn around to face Jenson with raised brows, causing the other drivers chuckling under their breaths.
"No! Like you said, considering the thibgs we've done last night— it's safe to say this was needed." Jenson quickly deflected the rush of blood pushing through his cheeks, it could be from the embarrassment or from thinking of last night's activities.
You shrug your shoulders in silence, "Well, I guess I need to exercise my silence, with the whole NDA thing— and I don't kiss and tell." You wink in his direction, leaving Jenson jaw slack, shaking his head in disbelief.
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★ WE COULD HAVE A GOOD TIME — @cosmoscoffeee @astral-cowboy @minkyungseokie @ximaginx @thearchieves @scuderiadevils @black-fireproofs @evie-119 @hannannannannannah @evesfile @vi0letblu3s @judelina @siannaplmn @myescapefromthislife @ivyvlair @persiar9 @hsfallingsky @asmoothoperator @vettelsbees @hc-dutch @tallrock35 @akkklys @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @booksandflowrs @champomiel @jeffs77 @escapism-writer @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @whatislifebutlemons @snapeeballsack @casperlikej @woozarts @hellowgoodbye @tallrock35 @lady-bennet
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songsofadelaide · 2 days
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Satoru loves having you around whenever he visits Megumi and Tsumiki in their apartment. The kids adore you more than they let on, after all. He loves the fact that they quickly warmed up to you, especially Megumi, who's known to be such a prickly child.
But what Satoru loves the most is having you all to himself without the school's watchful eyes on you both. He admits that he gets a little handsy when it's just the two of you on a mission together, not that you ever really minded since you loved him so much.
You were fixing Megumi's bedroom when Satoru slinked over and winked at you. He raised a finger to his lips, beckoning you to maintain your silence as he coiled his arms around you and drew you into a warm kiss.
And you nearly lost yourself in that kiss, too, your own arms wrapping around his neck—
"Gojo-san, I need your help."
If there was a world record for dismantling a kiss, you'd probably set the record. You couldn't help but look down at your lap in embarrassment while Satoru rose from his seat across you to approach Megumi, whose hand was still on his door.
"What do you need help with?"
"Why is your face all red?" Came the question from the young boy. You couldn't see his face but you knew from the sound of his voice that he must have a little grimace on. "Please don't do any perverted stuff in my room."
"Okay, that's enough, wise guy. Why don't we..." Satoru stated as he closed the door behind him, the click of the doorknob resonating in the room. In your hands was one of Megumi's half-folded shirts and oh, my gosh, what was I thinking? Was I really about to make out with Satoru here? In Megumi's bedroom?!
When you visited the following week, Megumi was helping you fold his clothes in his room this time, a rather pensive expression on his face as he asked you, "Do you two always do that?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Kissing."
That wasn't exactly the most surprising question. Megumi has always been a precocious child who knew far too much for his young age. "O-Oh, well... Not really always. Satoru was just being silly, for the most part."
The blue-eyed boy cocked his head as he turned to you. "And you don't do it with other people?"
"No, I don't. I can only kiss Satoru because he's my most favourite person in the world," you replied to his question with a little shake of your head and a small smile on your face. "I'm sure you'll find that person, too, Megumi-kun. The one you'll want to kiss forever. Perhaps not now, but sometime in the future."
The two of you looked up in surprise when you heard the bedroom door creak open but no one was there.
Satoru had a strange spring in his step on your way back to campus. He held your hand, his grip both tight and tender, and you curled your fingers around his digits to hold him right back.
An excited grin made its way to your lips as you spotted the familiar glint of light from a convenience store. "Oh, Toru, while we're here, do you think I can grab some snacks to share with Shoko, Kento and Kiy—"
As you turned your face in his direction, you were met with his lips suddenly on yours and very little resistance to your favour.
"T-Toru!—"
Satoru stole the grin from your face, his eyes concealed under his sunglasses but you knew exactly how they vanished into his smile. "Grab whatever you want, it's on me. Anything for my most favourite person in the world."
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ghostofhyuck · 1 day
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NCT Dream trying not to get caught that they're dating you. 
Mark Lee
Oh this one's hard for both of you. Whenever you're around Mark's face lights up. LIKE. He's just there glancing at you nonstop, and just smiling and giggling randomly. He thinks that he's being slick but he's not, everyone is convinced that he had eye-fucked you the moment you enter the room. Sometimes he's more bold like when you're alone in the kitchen, it'll be a perfect opportunity for him to sneak up on you and hug you while no one's around. 
Huang Renjun
Renjun is much much bolder than Mark. He'll try his best to have physical touch with you subtly. Like when you're greeting the members one by one with a hug, he has to make sure to leave an extra squeeze on you before you two separate. Or when he's passing by you while you're sitting on the sofa, he'll be the type to ruffle your hair. If you two are seated together, he'll hold your hands under the table or places his hands on your thighs. 
Lee Jeno
Jeno is great with hiding his relationship with you because he's an introvert. But it'll pique curiousity when he's always on his phone and is smiling widely, sometimes he even lets out a small chuckle. Whenever he's asked who he's talking to, he'll say that he just found a funny video something like that. And he just never gets caught because he has your contact saved with something you and him only understands or maybe an emoji to be more secretive. 
Lee Haechan
Haechan's eyes never lies, so I feel like he's not subtle about his relationship with you. Like his eyes just never leave yours. He'll glance at you at any opportunity that he can find and it's obvious because he turns his head at your direction!! Sometimes when your eyes meets his, he'll either: look away embarrassed or be bold enough to wink at you. If you hit back by giving him a wink, he'll be left blushing red. (his members are going to ask why is he so red.) 
Na Jaemin
Jaemin feel like he's more secretive now that he has his own place, so you just usually hang around at his place. But whenever he's with his members and he's calling you, he's not subtle that he's dating someone, it's just who he is dating is a secret from them. And that's because he calls you with endearments, "Love, sunshine, baby, my love." whatever call sign as long as it's not your name so that you two wouldn't be caught.
Zhong Chenle
Oh Chenle would be the type to dragging other members into the mess. Especially Dreamies. He'll be the type to ask them to cover up for him whenever you two go out on dates. Or if he did get caught, he'll be brush it off, "What do you mean a girl? That was Jaemin-hyung, why would I be with a girl?" he's the king of lies and excuses and it sounds so convincing because Jaemin will pull up and say, "yeah that was me." 
Park Jisung
This one takes the cake because no one will know that he's dating someone until the dating news will be published online. WDYM JISUNG OUR PRECIOUS YOUNGEST IS DATING YOU ?????? When did this happened !?!?! I feel like dating Jisung is so casual because it's like hanging out with a friend and the members wouldn't find it malicious that you two are close. He probably isn't that talkative and just, "do I really need to tell you guys about my love life?" 
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carmenberzattosgf · 2 days
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Just wanna make Carm cum in his vintage jeans is that too much to ask 🥺
Mmmmmmhhhh I so get it.
Straddling inexperienced Carmy while he’s sitting up on the couch at his place. There’s pure desire in his eyes as he looks up at you. His hands lay beside his thighs on the couch cushions, like he has no idea where to put them.
“You can touch me you know, Carm. I don’t mind.”
“I uh, I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”
“It’s not disrespectful at all. I want you to touch me.” You take each of his hands by the wrist, guiding him to hold your hips. “There we go, that’s better.” Carmy’s hands tremble slightly on your waist. He’s nervous out of his mind.
“K-kiss me?” Carmen asks. His voice comes out merely as a whine.
You meet his lips without hesitation, pressing your tongue on the seam between his lips. It takes him a second to catch on, but as soon as he does, he opens his mouth to let you in.
Carmy groans into your mouth as your lips move against his. His hands grip your hips tight enough to bruise. Naturally, your hips grind down onto him. He’s rock hard underneath you, straining against the fabric of his jeans.
You don’t slow down your hips, relishing in the desperate whimpers that leave his throat. His hands have slipped underneath your shirt to feel your bare skin. He doesn’t dare travel upwards though, no matter how much he wants to.
Your hands have moved to comb through his curls, pulling tightly. Carmy’s can’t get enough of you. He’s strong arms press you down on the hardness in his jeans.
His lips can barely stay connected to yours, too overwhelmed by you. He can’t stop the helpless groans that come out of his mouth one after the other. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before working down his face to his neck.
Carmy’s hips buck up against you as you suck on the pulse of his neck. “Fuck—“ he moans completely unabashed. His head falls back against the couch, giving you full access to his neck. When your teeth lightly scrape down his pulse point, a sharp whine escapes him.
You continue your movements on top of him, but that stops when he clutches at your hips, stopping you with his arms. “T-too much.“ Carmy can barely get the words out.
Carefully, you sit up and stare at the sight before you. Carmy is still lying with his head thrown back. His cheeks are bright red, and he’s refusing to open his eyes and make eye contact with you. It’s then you put the pieces together. You realize the bulge in his pants is gone. Now, a small wet spot grows on the front of his jeans.
“Oh—“ You really don’t know what else to say. You haven’t had a guy ever cum from dry humping before now.
He finally opens his eyes to look at you. “Shit, m’sorry.”
“What are you sorry about?” Your hand combs through his hair soothingly.
“It’s embarrassing. I-I finally have a girl back to my place and I can’t even—“ he groans in defeat, letting his head fall back.
“I dunno Carm. I thought it was pretty hot.”
His head perks back up at your words. His blue eyes blown wide. “You what?”
“Yeah— I’ve never had a guy uh, like that so much. It feels like a compliment more than anything. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“C-can I return the favor?”
“Oh—I mean you don’t have to! It’s totally fine if you—“
He cuts you off before touching can finish your sentence. “I want to. Please.”
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worldofkuro · 1 day
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile VIII
<- Previous Chapter
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, well, well. Here another chapter for you my dears ! I hope you'll enjoy it! Reader and Alastor are getting closer and closer it's adorable...For now.
You went back inside with Alastor, his jacket still draped over your shoulder. Alice waved at you before staring at Alastor then at you, with a big smile. What? You sat back down on your chair and listened to the conversation which was now about the war. You didn't really want to talk about that for Christmas but..
You felt Alice nudged you, making you look at her confused, she was observing you with a teasing expression. You raised your eyebrows, before leaning toward her, she immediately whispered in your ear as you took a sip of water.
“ Your lipstick is smudged.”
She leaned back with an amused grin and pointed discreetly toward Alastor. You followed the direction she pointed and almost choked on your water. Alastor had lipstick on his lips ! You blushed furiously, did somebody else notice it ? You looked at everyone  around the table but they were way too focused on the conservation, even Alastor was talking with them. You hide your lips behind a napkin , staring at Alice with wide eyes. 
She seemed delighted ; hiding her smile behind her gloved hands. Should you go to the bathroom, to wash up? But it wouldn’t clean Alastor’s lips. You touched Alastor’s tights with your palm, which made him take your hand in his, his gaze turning toward you. You tried to point to his lips but he only smiled wider before tilting his head toward you. You leaned toward him and opened your mouth but he cut you off.
“ You already want another one?”
You threw yourself back against your chair as Alastor was laughing, throwing his head back. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the both of you, confused and curious. You took your glass, hiding your face behind it as they tried to coat you to tell them what had happened. It was Alastor who spoke first.
“ I just reminded my dearest friend that being gluttonous was bad,” he said with a cunning smile. Oh, he looked so full of himself ! You wanted him to be flustered as you were! “ You might get addicted!”
“ Unlike you, I don't have food all over my mouth.” You closed one eye, staring at him with the other as you drank from your glass. Take that Alastor! And please read between the lines… “ and as you know my dear Alastor, since our younger age, you always were the glutton one.” you smirked as you remembered how he would eat so much for the tiny body he used to have.
Alastor just smiled with a teasing expression. You stuck discreetly your tongue at him as the guests were laughing with Alastor, saying how a grown man like him needed to eat so he shouldn’t feel bad for eating so much. You’ve never seen Alastor naked but you knew that he was strong. He could easily throw you on his shoulder when he wanted to do something you didn’t want.
“ You know that when I like something, I can’t help but crave more until there is nothing left for others to share.”
You almost spat the water on the table, your eyes wide open. Was he still talking about food ? You felt your body suddenly getting warmer. You didn’t understand why a sentence like this could make you react like this.
“ Ooh Alastor, you have such a way with words. What else can that mouth do?” said a lady, who seemed to have drunk more alcohol than water. You blushed as she leaned toward Alastor making her chest bigger with her arms. What was she doing ? You almost hid your face, feeling so embarrassed but you wanted to see Alastor’s reaction. Did he like this kind of woman?
“ It bites.” He said with a dangerous smile. You could see your lipstick on his lips, making it seemed like it was blood. You didn’t know why you liked it. You shook your head, what were you thinking? A bloody Alastor wasn’t attractive ! The sweet juices must have been alcohol for you to think such a thing about your friend. You finished your glass, you were getting tired now, and frankly you wanted to go home. You were feeling cold even with Alastor’s blazer on your shoulder. You ignored the lady’s giggles as you stood up, Alastor following soon after you.
“ Well, I think we are ready to go back home.” you smiled at Alice and John who seemed sad that you were already leaving. You hugged Alice as you explained that your feet were killing you, you danced all night and you weren’t used to those kinds of heels. Alastor shook hands with some people and you went toward a butler who gave your coat back.
You gave back his blazer to Alastor and then you left the mansion which was still buzzing with energy and music. You looked at the sky and sighed. Come on, only 35 minutes and you would be able to throw off your shoes. You could almost feel your legs trembling because of the pain.
“ Hold onto me.”
You squealed as Alastor crouched before you and lifted you in his arms, just like a bride. He began to walk. You were impressed, he had danced even more than you and yet he could carry you without breaking a sweat. You touched his lips with your cold fingers, making him look at you.
“ You know you have lipstick on your lips?”
“ Well, yes.” You stared at him, eyes wide opened. What did he say? He knew? How? “ Dear, when you kissed me I could see that your lipstick wasn’t as clean as before. And with Alice’s reaction, it just confirmed my thoughts.” he smiled teasingly at you but his eyes were full with warmth. 
“ But… Why did you not wipe it?”
He kept walking in silence for a moment, even making you believe that he wouldn’t answer you. Sometimes Alastor would just stare at you and not answer your question and you knew that it meant that he wasn’t ready to share what he thought, so you would just give up and talk about something else. You sighed in relief as you saw your home. Finally.
“ I wanted to feel you a little longer.”
You looked at him as he put you on the stairs in front of the door. You tilted your head, he wanted to feel you a little longer..? You took his hand with yours and smiled softly at him, you knew from his expression that he didn’t want to have that conversation right now, even with his usual smile. You quietly opened the door and realized that nobody was up, you could see bottles of wine on the living room’s table but your mothers were nowhere to be seen. You took off your shoes and almost moaned in bliss. Finally…
You went upstairs and took a peek inside your mother’s bedroom and smiled. Marie and your mother were both asleep on your parent’s bed, you could feel Alastor leaning his chest against your back as he stared at his mother. You guessed he wanted to be sure she was okay.
You went into your bedroom and fell on your bed, you just wanted to sleep..
“ Nu-uh miss, you are going to wash your face and take off your clothes.” you felt Alastor’s hands on your waist as he dragged you toward the bathroom. You groaned, you were so tired… You could wash up tomorrow.. He made you sit on the bathtub’s edge and he kneeled before you. He took a tissue and began to take off your makeup, beginning with your eyes, forcing you to close them. 
“ Alastooor…” you moaned, trying to to coat him in letting you go. “ I just want to sleep…” 
“ And I want you to go to bed clean, so be quiet and let me work.” he said as he wiped your lips. You nodded while opening your eyes, the faster it was done, the faster you could go to bed. “ Good girl.” he smirked at you with a mocking glint in his eyes.
You bit his finger, the one which was still wiping your mouth. You stared at him, trying to look dangerous. You… didn’t like when he was saying “good girl” in that tone, like you were someone he could easily manipulate, someone that wasn’t special to him. He looked calmly at his finger then at your eyes. You didn't know what he was thinking and it was killing you. Yes, you could read him easier than most people but Alastor stayed a mystery for you sometimes… Like right now.
He leaned toward you, making you lean back, keeping his finger between your teeth, until your back was at the bottom of the bathtub. He climbed above you, his eyes never leaving yours.
“ I recall being the one who said that I bite…” he looked at you calmly as you stared at him with angry eyes. You smirked, keeping his finger against your teeth, you always loved  when you succeeded in  surprising him. It was such a thrill.. What could you do now.. Oh! You let his finger go and smiled sweetly at him.
“ You wanted me to be clean, right?” He titled his head before you quickly opened the water. You hid underneath his body as the water fell upon his body. You laughed as you saw his face. His eyes were wide open and his smile looked like a grimace, but he was staring at you. He quickly turned off the water and fell on you, his face near your neck. “ Ouch! Alastor, you’re heavy!” 
You felt his arms holding you against him, squeezing you so hard that you could feel your chest being crushed against his torso. He was getting your dress wet now! You tried to run away but you couldn't move from his hold and you could feel his smile on his lips against your neck. You sighed, giving up. You took a strand of wet hair, it was beginning to be curly. You smiled, you liked his curly hair, it was cute! 
“ I think it’s past midnight , so Merry Christmas.”
“ Merry Christmas, Alastor.” you closed your eyes as you hugged him as hard as he was squeezing you. You felt him gasped against your skin, tickling you. You stayed like this for a moment before you were feeling really cold. Alastor helped you get out of the bathtub, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were clean! You went into the bathroom and looked at the dress. How were you supposed to take it off without tearing it? Last time, Alice was the one to help you take it off.
“ Alastor, can you help me with my dress?”
“ Of course dear” he approached you and dragged the zip down. You thanked him but didn’t move when you felt his gaze on your back. You turned your head toward him with a curious expression. He was looking at your back with a straining smile. “ I hope nobody will ever backstab you… Can I..?” he whispered as he held his hand toward your back. You nodded and closed your eyes when you felt his other hand covered your eyes. For years, you kept this game you had created, hiding your eyes and telling a secret.. And Alastor loved using this game against you.
 You felt the tips of his finger caress your naked back. You shivered, you wondered why? Were you cold? His touch was timid, but when you took a step back to get closer to him you felt his palm against your body. He moved his hand from your spine until he back of your hair. You tilted your head back. You didn’t really know what was happening.. The moment was a little scary, but because it was Alastor, you were feeling safe. He moved your hair from your back, sliding it on your shoulder.
“ Keep your eyes closed…” he took his hand from your eyes and then you felt both of his hands on your back, touching your hot skin. 
God…
You sighed as he slid his nails against your epidermis. It felt like he was tracing lines. Was he writing something ?
“ Alastor..” you whispered and he hummed in response. “ Can I… Can I do the same..?” you felt him flinching and you bit your lips. Were you too greedy? Did you break the moment you were having? You knew that Alastor was being vulnerable right now… You knew he had problems with others' touch. Something you had to learn even if it did hurt you when you were younger. 
“ If you keep your eyes closed.”
You gasped as his finger dipped softly into your skin.? He said yes? He said yes, he said yes, he said yes. 
He took his hand off your back, which you were already missing, and you heard him take off his clothes. You kept your eyes closed, you would never betray his trust. Never. Youknew it was another step in your friendship.. Was it a friendship… Was Alastor just a friend? …
Did you want Alastor to stay as a friend? 
“ I will be sitting down, my back toward you.”
You felt his hand take yours and bring it toward him. You didn’t want to touch his skin right now, you could feel his hand shake a little. You put your hand on his curly hair and stroke it. You wouldn’t touch him unless he was relaxed.
“ Tell me if you want me to stop. Tap me somewhere on my body.”
He didn’t answer but you could feel him squeeze your hands. You breathed and began to trail your hand near his shoulder. You caressed them softly, from the tips of your finger, just like Alastor did.
Just like he did, you would make him feel safe.
You slid the tips of your finger on his back and you felt him tensed. You stopped, waiting for him to tell you it was too much. He didn’t speak and you waited for his body to relax once more before touching once again his back. You began to put more pressure on your touch, your fingers were caressing his hot skin. Was he sweating ?
“ You are beautiful, Alastor.”
“ You say that because you keep your eyes closed when you are with me.”
“ Then, let me open them.”
“...No, not yet.”
“ Alright.” you smiled a little, you didn’t want him to feel like you were upset. Right now, he was giving you more than he could imagine. You leaned toward your hands and pecked his skin. You felt him tense immediately. “ I’m sorry–”
“ No.. No, it’s okay.. I.. I was just surprised.”
You leaned your forehead against his back, your eyes still closed. Has Alastor ever been backstabbed ? Was that why he was so protective of you? Was that why he always held distance with others? You remembered him telling you once when you were children : 
“ A betrayal always comes from your own house.”
Was he talking about his dad? You only knew that Alastor didn’t like his father but that was it. You didn’t like his father because you felt like Alastor wasn’t safe with him… 
You felt Alastor moved and you leaned back. You kept your eyes closed, as long as he didn’t tell you to open them, you would keep them close. You would accept all of Alastor when he was ready. You waited for him to talk but you could only hear your own breathing.
“ Alastor.. Where..?”
“ I’m here, you are caged between my legs right now.” 
You scoffed at the choice of his words.
“ I’m caged ?” you teased him, tilting your head against his legs. You were beginning to be very tired…
“ With me.” you felt his lips against your forehead.” Would you like that? Being caged with me?” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. Was he afraid of your answer? Should you be afraid that you didn’t hesitate ?
“ Yes.”
You gasped as he tugged you against his naked torso, hugging you so hard, you were almost choking but you embraced him even harder. You desperately wanted to see his face but he wasn’t ready right now. So you would wait…
He let you go and you waited a moment before he said you could open your eyes. You turned to look at him, he was wearing a pajama that belonged to your father. He went downstairs and you put on your nightgown.
What had just happened ? You felt like your bond, who was already deep, just deepened once more. You turned your head toward the door as you saw Alastor with your cup, you could already smell the  sweet scent of hot chocolate. You smiled at him as he gave you your cup and you drank eagerly.
“ I hope you’ll get warmer with this… disgusting brevage.”
“ Alastor, you have no taste. Who drinks coffee without sugar or with some sweets?”
“ Me.”
You shook your head, laughing quietly. You didn’t want to wake up your mothers. You finished your cup and went under the cover. Alastor joined you; you looked at him. You couldn’t see any trace of fatigue.
“ You think you’ll be able to sleep a little?”
“ Mhn… Who knows.” he closed his eyes with an amused smile. You rolled your eyes at him before falling asleep not even five minutes later.
You woke up hours laters, drooling on your pillow. What time was it..? You looked around, you could hear noises downstairs and Alastor wasn’t next to you anymore. You yawned as you stretched your body just like a cat. Thinking of cats, you’ll have to visit Husker next time. 
You took your robe and went downstairs, going straight toward the living room where everyone was. You hugged your mother and Marie wishing them a Merry Christmas. You looked around, Alastor wasn’t there?
“ How was your soirée sweetie?” asked Marie with a soft smile. You told them how big the mansion was, how there were so many guests, how you sang with a band, that you and Alastor danced. It was a really good soirée. You looked at the Christmas’s tree, you didn’t even notice the presents below the tree. When did you mothers put it here, it wasn’t there when you came home last night.
“ Well, it’s time to open the presents!” said your mother with absolute glee! She went toward the tree and gave Marie’s your present. She seemed really touched. You smiled at her, Marie’s was someone important for you now, so of course you would make something for her ! 
“ You bought my Mother a gift?” you felt Alastor leaned against you with a happy grin.
“ I made it, she is the one who has to support you everyday, she is a real hero!” you kissed both of his cheeks with a teasing grin. 
“ Oh dear, did you make it ?” she smiled at you as she showed everyone your handkerchiefs. It wasn’t perfect but you did try your best. You nodded and she stood up before hugging you. You sigh in relief, okay, it went well.
Everyone gave their presents. You were surprised when Alastor gave your mother a gift, thanking her for everything she has done for his mother. Your mother almost cried but she composed herself quickly. It was a perfume! Wasn’t that scarily expensive ?
Marie gifted you a book with all of her recipes. You couldn't wait to try it! Alastor suggested that you should wait for him to be with you if you wanted to try some of them, for security’s purpose. 
You took the gift you had for Alastor. Alright, now or never. You walked toward him with, you hoped, a relaxed smile but from his observing eyes, you must have failed. You put the little package in his hand.
“ Merry Christmas Alastor.”
He stared at you but opened his present. His eyes widened as he saw a beautiful watch.  You had a hard time buying a watch that looked luxurious but wasn’t too expensive. Thank God Alice had contacts everywhere.
“ Well, dear… I’m flattered.” he said with a genuine smile, already putting the watch around his wrist. You relaxed, every gift was given, you could relax now. You sat on the sofa with a sigh. Who would have thought Christmas could be so stressful? 
“ Stand up dear, I still didn’t give you my gift?”
You tilted your head but stood up. Alastor made you turn your back to him after he put his gift in your hand. You looked at him curiously but he just made a movement with his head toward the gift. You opened it carefully and gasped.
Into a beautiful white cloth  was a beautiful necklace who looked like gold with a red stone hanging from it. You stared at him, your mouth wide open. How..?
You felt Alastor getting closer, carefully taking the necklace.
“ May I?”
You nodded as he put on the necklace around your neck. You touched the red stone with a moved smile. You would never take it off. You saw from the corner of your eyes your mothers giggling behind their hands as they watched you. You rolled your eyes, amused. Who were the adults here? You felt Alastor hands on your shoulder and he whispered in your ear.
“ Merry Christmas, my dear.”
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz@boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi
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— shooting stars!  || park seonghwa
loosely inspired by the drama shitting stars!
Most people aren’t interested in the truth. They just casually gossip to entertain themselves. No one takes responsibility for the caused pain.
idol!seonghwa x prmanager!reader
genre: angst, fluff, smut
trigger warnings: vanilla sex, honestly there's not much just kissing, touching, and... lovemaking. really soft smut. it's embarrassing, jealousy, argument, emotional distress, career-related stress, and difficult decisions
words: 8.2 k
reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! this is my longest story so far! i've been working on it like crazy for the past few days and here we finally are. so the smut... it's not really a smut but still? i tried oh god, i feel so embarrassed but yeah i just decided to go for it. it's again requested work but i actually changed some of it to fit into my idea... anyway thank you so much for requesting!
love, monika. ♡
if you enjoyed this post, i'd be so grateful for a little love – a like or comment would truly make my day!
The office in Mapo-gu, Seoul, felt stiflingly hot, despite having already downed three cups of iced coffee. With the air conditioning out of order and repairs not scheduled until two days later, you found yourself drowning in a sea of work. Who would have imagined that working at a medium-sized entertainment agency would entail such an overwhelming workload? You should have felt grateful for landing this job, considering the effort you had put into securing it, but at times, it felt overwhelmingly demanding. Being the head of the PR department at KQ Entertainment was certainly something to boast about, especially after ATEEZ's success. You joined the company a few years back when you were the sole member of the PR team. If you claimed you believed in the company's success from the beginning, you'd be lying. When you first entered, fear outweighed optimism regarding the future. Indeed, it was no small feat for eight teenage boys to shoulder the weight of an entire company, but ATEEZ rose to the challenge with unwavering determination and passion. Now, with two active bands under KQ's wings, you find yourself constantly occupied.  
Managing the members of ATEEZ was undoubtedly a challenging task, and surprisingly, it wasn't due to any misbehavior on their part. Despite their young age and the temptations that come with fame, the ATEEZ members remained remarkably grounded and focused on their careers. You truly admired that. But when a band from such a small company starts gaining momentum, rumors are bound to circulate. Your main priority was to prevent those rumors from leaking. Which wasn't easy, as people can be cruel when they're envious. But still, to this day ATEEZ has not been involved in any major scandals, which made you proud.  
In a small company like KQ, everybody knows each other. Initially, stepping into that environment, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous around the members of ATEEZ. Their presence seemed to exude a magnetic energy that was both captivating and intimidating. As you interacted with them more and more, you realized that their aura was indeed something special. Each member brought their own unique charm and personality to the table. You and the members of ATEEZ grew slightly closer than others, due to your similar ages, but it was Seonghwa who stood out to you the most. His effortless humor, kindness, and genuine care for others made him a favorite. Right from the start, you felt drawn to him. However, you maintained a professional demeanor, knowing all too well the potential consequences of getting too close, especially considering his status as an idol. But at some point, company dinners and parties became regular occasions, where you celebrated each of ATEEZ’s success together. And as the alcohol in your system increased, your professionalism decreased. Your bond with Seonghwa deepened, you found yourself drawn to him more than ever before. Whether it was sharing drinks, engaging in playful games, or simply relishing heartfelt conversations over company dinner, you cherished every moment spent in his company. With each passing interaction, your admiration for him grew, and before you knew it, you were falling head over heels for him. Despite the looming fear of crossing a line you couldn't return from; you couldn't resist him. What started as a professional relationship evolved into something much deeper and more profound. The shy touches and lingering glances exchanged between you spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words alone couldn't express. In the midst of loud music and bustling crowds, you found yourselves leaning closer to each other, seeking solace in the warmth of each other's presence. His hand naturally gravitated to your waist whenever you stood side by side, a silent yet undeniable declaration of the connection you shared. 
The day had been long and exhausting, and you were just about ready to call it quits when the sudden intrusion of your boss jolted you from your thoughts. Startled, you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, a look of excitement and urgency written across his face. 
"Y/N! Have you heard?" he exclaimed; his voice filled with anticipation. You blinked in surprise, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you leaned forward in your chair.  
"Heard what?" you asked, curiosity piqued. Your boss couldn't contain his grin as he delivered the news.  
"ATEEZ just sold out an entire US Tour!" The words hung in the air, sinking in slowly as you processed their significance. And then, without warning, a surge of elation washed over you, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, a joyful scream escaping your lips. 
"What?" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. Without a second thought, you rushed forward, enveloping your boss in a tight hug, overcome with happiness at the incredible news. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a testament to the hard work and dedication of everyone involved in ATEEZ's journey. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. The excitement in your boss's voice was contagious as he patted your back, a wide grin spreading across his face.  
"We are celebrating tonight!" he declared with enthusiasm, his words echoing through the office. A surge of anticipation raced through you at the prospect of celebrating ATEEZ's incredible achievement.  
"Absolutely!" you replied eagerly, already picturing the party ahead. With a playful wink, your boss continued,  
"So go back to your place, doll up, and I'll see you here at 7 sharp!" You nodded enthusiastically, a smile stretching from ear to ear.  
"You got it!" You exclaimed, already mentally planning your outfit for the evening. As you made your way out of the office, the excitement of the impending celebration filled you with renewed energy. With a spring in your step and a heart full of anticipation, you packed up your belongings and bid farewell to the office for the day. The thought of celebrating ATEEZ's success and the prospect of finally seeing Seonghwa filled you with an infectious excitement that bubbled within you. As you made your way through the bustling streets, the anticipation only grew stronger. The familiar sights and sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the promise of the evening ahead. Tonight was a night for celebration, a chance to toast to ATEEZ's success and revel in the joy of being surrounded by friends and colleagues. But above all else, it was a night to be reunited with Seonghwa, and you couldn't wait to see where the evening would take you. With a smile on your face and excitement in your heart, you pushed open the door to your apartment.  
After a quick shower to freshen up and wash away the cares of the day, you set about styling your hair and applying my makeup with meticulous care. With the luxury of extra time on your hands, you paid attention to every detail to ensure that you looked and felt your best for the evening ahead. After finishing your make-up, you reached out for your phone resting on the nightstand, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Seonghwa's name flashing on the screen. A surge of excitement coursed through you as you answered the call, eager to hear his voice after what felt like an eternity apart. 
"Hello?" You said, your voice tinged with anticipation as you brought the phone to your ear, butterflies dancing in your stomach. 
"Hey, it's me," Seonghwa's voice came through the line, warm and familiar, sending a rush of warmth through you. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,  
"Hi, Seonghwa. I was just thinking about you." There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft chuckle.  
"Funny, I was just thinking about you too," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I will see you tonight, right?"  
"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for anything," you replied without hesitation, "We definitely need to celebrate!" 
"Honestly, the only thing that matters is that I will finally see you," Seonghwa's voice came through the phone, filled with warmth and affection. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,  
"Same here, Seonghwa. I've missed you." And as you exchanged a few more words of affection and excitement, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to be reunited once more. With a renewed sense of anticipation and joy, you ended the call, a sense of warmth and happiness lingering in your heart. Tonight was going to be a night to remember, and you couldn't wait to see Seonghwa's smiling face once more. 
Choosing the perfect outfit for the evening was challenging. On one hand, you wanted to look your best – to make a memorable impression on Seonghwa after being apart for so long due to his overseas schedule. But on the other hand, you didn't want to appear overdressed or out of place at the party. After rummaging through your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on something. Opting for a timeless and sophisticated look, you selected a classic black shirt for the evening's celebration. Deciding to add a touch of allure to the ensemble, you opted to leave the top few buttons of the shirt undone, revealing a hint of skin. It was a small gesture, but it added just the right amount of intrigue to the outfit. Paired with a simple black skirt that hit just in the middle of your tights, the combination was effortlessly sexy. The monochromatic palette created a sleek and cohesive look that was eye-catching. With a few carefully chosen accessories – a delicate, gold necklace, a pair of understated earrings, and a sleek clutch – you completed the outfit. As you admired your reflection in the mirror, a sense of excitement washed over you. Tonight was going to be a night to remember. 
You entered the company building, the air was filled with electric energy, a tangible sense of excitement pulsating through the air. Everywhere you looked, you could see signs of preparation – colorful balloons swaying gently in the breeze, banners hanging from the walls, and a festive atmosphere that filled the space with warmth and joy. A smile spread across your lips as you took in the sight before you, feeling a surge of excitement building within you. It was clear that everyone had gone to great lengths to ensure that tonight's celebration would be a night to remember, a fitting tribute to ATEEZ's incredible achievement. With each step you took, the anticipation continued to build, fueled by the excitement of finally being reunited with Seonghwa and the rest of the ATEEZ members. After exchanging greetings with everyone and soaking in the festive atmosphere, you found yourself nestled in a cozy corner of the room, a drink in hand. As you scanned the bustling room, your heart skipped a beat with each familiar face that passed by, hoping to catch sight of Seonghwa among the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found.  
"Y/N!" As you heard your name called from across the room, you turned your head in the direction of the sound. Through the sea of people, you spotted a familiar face. 
"San!" You greeted him enthusiastically as he approached, a genuine smile spreading across your face at the sight of him. San was always such a warm and friendly presence, and you were genuinely glad that he had come over to you. "Congratulations!" you exclaimed as San pulled you in a warm hug. With a smile, you pulled back from the hug, meeting his gaze with genuine happiness in your eyes. "I'm so happy for you, San," you said sincerely, knowing that his success was well-deserved.  
"It's truly incredible," San replied, a smile tugging at his lips as he raised his glass to clink it against yours. The sound of glass meeting glass echoed through the room, a toast to success. "It's moments like these that make all the hard work worth it," San said, you nodded with agreement. "Here's to many more successes and celebrations to come." with a smile, you took another sip of your drink, savoring the moment and feeling grateful for the opportunity to share it with a friend like San. 
''Y/N! You look amazing!' You didn't notice when Hongjoong approached you, 
"Thank you!" You replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Before you could react, Hongjoong took your hand and spun you around gently, causing laughter to bubble up from within you. His eyes scanned you appreciatively, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks under his gaze. It was a simple gesture, but it filled you with a sense of happiness.  
"Am I interrupting something?" As the question hung in the air, you turned your gaze away from Hongjoong and met Seonghwa's eyes, feeling a rush of emotions wash over you. His presence seemed to fill the room, drawing you in with an intensity that was both exhilarating and unnerving. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes, a silent exchange passing between you both. In that moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you standing there, caught in a moment. 
"No, not at all," you replied, as you tore your gaze away from Seonghwa's, turning back to face San and Hongjoong. "We were just catching up." your mind remained fixed on Seonghwa, unable to shake the feeling of his presence lingering in the air.  
"I was just telling her how amazing she looks tonight," As Hongjoong's words filled the air, a warm smile spread across your face at his kind gesture. It was a small reassurance amid the tension that lingered between Seonghwa and you, 
"Thank you, Hongjoong," you replied with genuine gratitude, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back to face Seonghwa once more. His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts lay behind Seonghwa's gaze. 
''We will leave you two alone and say hi to the rest of the team.'' San spoke, as he took Hongjoong by his arm, and pulled him behind. 
"Of course," you replied, nodding in understanding as San and Hongjoong made their way towards the rest of the team. They disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. 
“I don’t like the way they look at you” Seonghwa's words hung in the air, breaking the silence with a weight that you couldn't ignore. His voice was soft, tinged with a hint of concern that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity at his sudden confession.  
"What do you mean?" you asked. There was a depth to his words that hinted at something more, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to elaborate. Seonghwa sighed, his expression troubled as he struggled to find the right words.  
"I mean... I just don't like the way they look at you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. His admission caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for how to respond. "It drives me crazy." As he downed his drink in one swift motion, you could see the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.  
"Seonghwa, are you... jealous?" you asked tentatively, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widened at your question, and for a moment, he was speechless. 
"Jealous?" Seonghwa repeated, seemingly taken aback by your question. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the answer himself. After a moment of silence, he let out a soft chuckle, his gaze dropping to his hands. "Maybe I am," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The intensity of his confession made your heart flutter, and a blush crept up your cheeks. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, a sign of his nervousness that you had come to recognize. 
"I just... I care about you, you know?" He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that you hadn't seen before. It was a look of protectiveness, of possessiveness, but also of vulnerability. And in that moment, you realized that perhaps Seonghwa's feelings ran deeper than you had initially thought. Your moment was abruptly interrupted by someone calling his name from across the room. Your heart sank slightly, realizing that you wouldn't have the opportunity to delve deeper into the conversation. Seonghwa glanced at you apologetically, his expression filled with regret. 
"I'll be right back," he promised, his voice tinged with disappointment. You nodded in understanding, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering questions in your mind.  
"Take your time," you replied, watching as he made his way through the crowd, his figure disappearing into the throng of people. Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder about the true meaning behind Seonghwa's words. His confession had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within you, and you longed for the chance to delve deeper into it. But for now, all you could do was wait, hoping for the opportunity to continue your conversation when the time was right.  
As the night wore on, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of conversations and celebrations, the opportunity to continue the conversation with Seonghwa slipping further and further away with each passing moment. Seonghwa seemed to be caught up in the festivities as well, pulled in different directions by the demands of the evening. Despite your best efforts to find a moment alone with him, the bustling atmosphere of the party made it difficult to carve out the time for a private conversation. Seonghwa was constantly surrounded by friends and colleagues, and you found yourself pulled in different directions as well, engaging in lively discussions and catching up with the rest of the team.  
The atmosphere in the company was quiet, with only the faint echoes of the recent party lingering in the air. As the party slowly wound down and the last of the guests trickled out of the door, you found yourself alone in the room, left to clean up the aftermath. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached, and you turned to find Seonghwa lingering in the doorway.  
"Can I help you clean up?" he asked, his voice gentle and earnest. You nodded, appreciating his offer of help and the chance to speak with him once again. 
"Of course, thank you, Seonghwa." You replied, welcoming his company. Together, you started to pick up the scattered cups and plates, the silence between you comfortable yet filled with anticipation. Seonghwa worked diligently, making quick work of the mess. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring his focus. When he finished, he looked up and met your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. 
"It's much easier with two people," he commented, breaking the silence. You agreed and thanked him again for his help. The room was now clean, but neither of you made a move to leave. Seonghwa finally broke the silence.  
"About what I said earlier," he began, hesitating slightly. You nodded, indicating that you were listening. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he continued. "I meant what I said. I care about you... more than I probably should." His words echoed in the empty room; the atmosphere suddenly heavy. You looked at him, surprised by his confession but also relieved. His feelings mirrored your own, and you found yourself smiling at him. 
"I care about you too, Seonghwa," you replied, his face lit up at your words, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 
"Can I kiss you?" His words sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, and without hesitation, you reached out to gently cup his face in your hands. 
"Yes," you whispered, Seonghwa’s eyes twinkled with happiness at your answer. You could feel your heart pound against your chest in anticipation. Seonghwa’s touch was gentle yet commanding as he pulled you closer by your waist, drawing you into his embrace with a magnetic force that was impossible to resist. As his touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, your body reacted instinctively, responding to the electrifying sensation with an intensity that took your breath away. Every nerve seemed to ignite with a fiery spark as his fingertips grazed your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensation. Seonghwa's lips were warm and soft against yours, each gentle brush sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. The moment his lips met yours, everything around melted away. All you could feel was him; his lips on yours, his heartbeat echoing your own. The kiss was soft, tender, filled with all the emotions that had been building up between you. With each press of Seonghwa’s lips against yours, you felt yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his embrace. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, a steady rhythm echoing the urgency of the desire that coursed through you. With each caress, your senses were heightened, attuned to every nuance of his touch. It was as if a spark had been ignited within you, setting your entire being ablaze with a fierce longing that threatened to consume you whole.  
"Seonghwa, we shouldn't," you whispered breathlessly against his lips as you pulled away, a pang of hesitation gnawing at your heart.  
"Why not?" He murmured, his breath hitching as he stared at you with a look of surprise and confusion. His words resonated within you, forcing you to confront the fear that had been lingering at the back of your mind. You swallowed hard, your mind wrestling with the feelings that had been building up inside you. 
"You're an idol, Seonghwa, and I... I work for your PR team," you started, your voice barely a whisper. You watched as the confusion in his eyes shifted to understanding, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. "The rules... the... the consequences," you stuttered, your heart pounding as you tried to put your fears into words. "We could get caught... I could lose my job... and it could ruin your career." For a moment, Seonghwa was silent, absorbing your words. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his feelings and the harsh reality of the world you both lived in. But then, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"I understand," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest. "But I can't help how I feel about you. We'll figure this out... together." You tried to say something, to voice the concerns still swirling in your mind, but Seonghwa shook his head and placed a finger on your lips.  
"Shhh... I've waited too long for this," he murmured, and before you could respond, he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left no room for argument. His touch was electrifying, his lips hungry and insistent against yours, and you found yourself returning his fervor with equal intensity. There was no gentleness, no tender caresses. Instead, your kiss was raw and unbridled, fueled by a primal hunger that threatened to consume you both. With each brush of your lips, the barriers that had once held you back crumbled, giving way to an overwhelming surge of desire. In the heat of the moment, there was no room for hesitation or doubt. All that mattered was the fiery connection that blazed between you, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing second. And as you lost yourselves in the intoxicating rush of passion, you knew that there was no turning back. As the world around you melted away, you found the courage to voice the words that had been on the tip of your tongue.  
"Let's go to my place," you breathed out, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his response. Seonghwa looked at you, a slight surprise in his eyes. Then a slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features into a look of pure happiness.  
"I'd love to," he replied, his voice husky. You reached out, gently grasping Seonghwa's wrist and pulling him to follow you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was a glimmer of excitement mirrored in their depths. With a sense of urgency, you swiftly took your purse. Every movement was propelled by a heady mix of anticipation and desire, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rapid pace of your thoughts. As you made your way to the back door, Seonghwa paused for a moment, reaching for his jacket, glasses, and a mask before stepping outside. You were struck by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. In that simple gesture, you saw a glimpse of the considerate and caring person he was beneath the surface. With a soft smile, you followed, grabbing your own jacket and slipping on a mask before joining Seonghwa outside. The cool night air greeted you as you stepped onto the pavement, wrapping you in its embrace. Feeling the warmth of Seonghwa's hand intertwining with yours sent a jolt of electricity. With your fingers intertwined, you set off together, following the familiar way that would lead you to your apartment. You couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude as you made your way through the quiet streets, it was a relief to know that your apartment was only a short distance away from the company. 
As soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, Seonghwa pulled you hard into his chest, your bodies pressing on each other. His kisses became more urgent, his grip on you tighter as if he was afraid you would disappear. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless, his taste intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. In this moment, there was no room for remorse or second thoughts, only the overpowering need for each other. You were lost in him, in the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his taste, his scent. As the intensity of your shared passion escalated, Seonghwa moved to unbutton your shirt, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. 
"Wait," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and filled with desire, but he stopped at your words, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he waited for you to continue. "I... I just want to make sure we're both on the same page," you said softly, voice trembling slightly with the weight of the moment. "I care about you, Seonghwa, more than I can put into words. But I want it to mean something, for both of us." As you spoke, you searched his expression for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was a profound sense of understanding and respect. In that moment, you were sure that Seonghwa shared your desire for something deeper, something more meaningful than just physical intimacy. His lips curved into a tender smile, and he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand.  
"I understand," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want this to mean something too, Y/N. More than anything. I’m not leaving you." With those words, the last of your doubts melted away, leaving only a sense of trust and connection between you. His touch, careful and loving, trailed down your body, taking the time to appreciate every inch of you. Seonghwa’s fingers traced over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. He took his time, his hands exploring you as if he was memorizing every curve, every line of your body. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands. He let out a soft groan, his hot breath fanning against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again, stealing your breath away with the intensity of the kiss. His hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it aside. His gaze was full of admiration and desire as he looked at you, his eyes taking in your form.  
"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with emotion. You blushed, a smile spreading across your lips at his words. Seonghwa leaned in, pressing kisses along your neck, collarbones, down to your chest. His hands finally moved to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His touch was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of pleasure through your body. Seonghwa was patient, taking his time to make you feel loved, and cherished. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him closer to where you needed him. "So impatient," Seonghwa commented as he moved back up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. Craving the feel of his skin against yours, your hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. You took a moment to admire him, your gaze trailing over his muscular chest, and the defined abs. Seonghwa was beautiful, every inch of him perfect. You reached out, your fingers tracing over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Seonghwa’s hands roamed your body, the touch igniting a fire within you. He moved lower once again, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. His hands moved to your skirt, unzipping it and sliding it down your legs. Seonghwa’s lips found the skin on your thighs, his hands gently creasing them, each touch sending waves of desire coursing through you. His lips moved up your tight, his lips finding all your sensitive spots, making you arch your back and gasp out his name. You felt his breath dangerously close to your panties, which by now were soaked completely with your arousal.  
"Seonghwa," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you arched your back, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that washed over you. "Not here," you murmured, your voice trembling as looked down on him with a mixture of desire and urgency. "Bedroom... Let's go to the bedroom." Seonghwa, with a deep and magnetic gaze that held you captive, guided you gently towards the bedroom. He led you to the edge of the bed, his hands never leaving your body. Carefully, with an affectionate touch, he laid you down on the soft sheets. Seonghwa's gaze was intense but tender, as if he was committing every detail of you to memory. The look in his eyes held a fervor that was both thrilling and comforting. The last piece of your clothing was slowly discarded, your lace panties landing softly on the floor. His hands, now free to explore, traced a path of heat down your bare body, each touch igniting a spark of anticipation. He kissed you deeply, a promise of more to come, before his eyes met yours once more. Seonghwa's gaze was full of adoration and hunger, a testament to the intimate connection that was about to deepen. Slowly, Seonghwa began to undress himself, his movements unhurried and deliberate. As the last piece of his clothing dropped to the floor, he positioned himself atop you, his bare skin against yours sending tremors of desire coursing through your veins. His eyes continued to hold your gaze, their depths reflecting the shared anticipation of the intimate moment that was about to unfold. 
"Is this alright?" Seonghwa whispered against your lips. 
"Yes," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Yes, Seonghwa... I'm yours." Your affirmation seemed to ignite something within him. A slow, intoxicating smile spread across his face, his dark eyes twinkling with a mixture of love, desire, and a hint of possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine. His gaze never wavered from yours, maintaining eye contact as he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a searing, passionate kiss. One of his hands, tender and firm, cradled your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheeks. With the other one he steadied himself between your legs, and you finally felt him entering you slowly and gently, his movements measured and full of care. The feeling was intoxicating, overwhelming in its intensity but filled with a tenderness that only Seonghwa could provide. As Seonghwa moved, you felt a surge of pleasure that left you gasping, your fingers trailing over his back, your nails gently digging into his skin. His name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper, the syllables intertwining with the soft moans and gasps that filled the room. Each thrust heightened the pleasure, building up tension that had you moaning his name louder. He responded to your every sound, his movements shifting and adapting to your responses. It was as if he was attuned to every part of you, each touch designed to elicit the maximum pleasure. 
"Seonghwa," you moaned, as he continued to move, his rhythm steady and deliberate. He looked down at you, his gaze filled with love and desire, his expression mirroring the pleasure coursing through you. "I’m close" you whimpered as the pleasure started to overwhelm you. 
"I know, baby," he responded, his voice low and soothing. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze as the room around you both seemed to fade. Each of his movements were measured, calculated to draw the maximum response from you. He knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and he wasn't afraid to take his time in delivering it. Seonghwa was completely in tune with your body, knowing just how to touch you, how to move, to bring you to the edge. A gasp escaped your lips as his rhythm increased, the intensity building as he moved. His name was a whispered prayer on your lips, the only word you could manage as you clung to him. The world around you narrowed to the feeling of him, the sight of him, the sound of him, the scent of him. 
"Let go baby," he murmured against your ear, his voice a soothing balm, grounding you in the moment. With a few more deep movements, he guided you both to the peak of your shared pleasure. The feeling was indescribable, a release of tension that left you both panting and gasping for breath. And through it all, Seonghwa was there with you, his gaze never leaving yours, his love and desire for you clear in his eyes. As the waves of pleasure subsided, Seonghwa collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, his heart beating in time with yours as you both lay there in silence, the echoes of your shared climax still reverberating through your bodies. Seonghwa’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, a soothing gesture that eased the lingering tremors racking your body. His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the tenderness of the gesture making your heart flutter. 
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. His concern was palpable, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.  
"More than okay," you assured him, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his sweaty forehead. His answering smile was warm and genuine, a sight that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. 
"Good," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His breathing slowly became more regular, his body relaxing as he basked in the afterglow. You laid there, tangled in each other's arms, your heartbeats syncing in the quiet. There was no need for words now, the silence between you was comfortable and familiar. As you drifted off to sleep, his arms tightened around you.  
You were suddenly awakened by the sound of Seonghwa's voice, harsh and irritated, a stark contrast to the gentle tone you had grown accustomed to. His distressed voice pierced the calm tranquility of the early morning as he was on the phone, pacing around the room with furrowed brows, clearly in frustration. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed your phone blinking on the bedside table. Forty-three missed calls. A wave of chilly dread filled you as you unlocked your phone to see the flood of messages and notifications. The first one you clicked on made your heart drop. Pictures of you and Seonghwa, walking to your apartment, your hands intertwined, were plastered all over various media outlets. The headlines screamed about Seonghwa's secret relationship, a shocking revelation that seemed to have hit the fandom like a lightning bolt. The comments section was a whirlpool of emotions - shock, betrayal, and surprisingly, support. As you scrolled through the articles, you could barely register the words. This was your worst nightmare coming to life, the very reason you hesitated to start a relationship with Seonghwa in the first place. Seonghwa finished his call and turned to you, his face unnaturally pale.  
"It's all over the news," he said, his voice barely a whisper. The room felt suffocating as a heavy silence descended upon it, both of you too stunned to utter a word. The reality of the situation was sinking in, unfolding a terrifying scenario that you both had dreaded. Your mind was racing, scrambling to make sense of the situation. All your worst fears were coming to life - the fear of getting caught, of losing your job, and of potentially damaging Seonghwa's career. This was the adverse consequence of your secret relationship, the one you had feared and tried to prevent from the very beginning. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Your anger flared as you dialed your boss's number, your hands shaking as you held the phone to your ear. He picked up on the second ring, his voice tense, 
"You need to do your job and stop this information from spreading," he demanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You felt your heart clench at his words, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you fired back,  
"How am I supposed to do that when I'm the one involved?" The line crackled with tension as you braced yourself for your boss's response, knowing that your conversation was about to take a heated turn. 
"You're involved!?" His voice was sharp, laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. "How could you let this happen, Y/N? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into?" His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you felt a surge of anger rising within you.  
"I didn't 'let' anything happen," you shot back, your own voice rising with frustration. "This isn't something I planned or wanted. And as for the mess, believe me, I'm well aware of it." There was a tense pause on the other end of the line, the silence filled with unspoken accusations and bitter recriminations. You could practically feel your boss's disappointment radiating through the phone, a heavy weight pressing down on you with each passing second. 
"We need to contain this," he said finally, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Handle the damage control on our end, write a press release. Stay out of the public eye, keep your head down, and for god's sake, don't make things worse." You clenched your jaw, struggling to keep your emotions in check as you listened to his instructions.  
"And what about Seonghwa?" you demanded, unable to suppress the edge of desperation in your voice. There was another pause, longer this time, as your boss considered his response.  
"Seonghwa knew what he was getting into when he chose this life," he said finally, his voice oddly cold and unsympathetic. "He's a public figure, and he needs to accept the consequences of his actions. Just like you do." The words hung between you, a bitter reminder of the harsh reality you were both facing. As you hung up the phone, a sense of resignation settled over you, knowing that no matter how much you wanted to protect Seonghwa, there were forces at play far beyond your control. Seonghwa, who had been a silent witness to your conversation, finally broke his silence. His sobs filled the room, each one stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You turned to him, your eyes filled with regret and sorrow.  
"I was supposed to be the one protecting you," you said, your voice choked with tears. You could see the pain in his eyes, reflecting your own as you confessed, "This was a mistake. I'm going to get fired, Seonghwa. There's no future for us." His face crumpled at your words, a look of utter devastation replacing his earlier confusion. 
"No, Y/N, please..." he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you." he retorted, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and despair. His words hit you like a punch to the gut. As the silence settled in the room, you felt a lump forming in your throat. The harsh reality of the situation was too overwhelming to comprehend. The words that had been exchanged between you two still echoed in your ears, haunting you. The room, once filled with love and warmth, now felt cold and distant. The air was heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Seonghwa, his eyes red and swollen from crying, looked at you. His usual cheerful demeanor was now replaced with a look of sadness and despair. He seemed like a completely different person. Seeing him like this broke your heart even more, the reality of the situation dawning on you. 
"I... I need some time," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He got up from the bed, picked up his clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, numb and silent, as you processed everything that had happened. You felt a sense of guilt wash over you, realizing that your actions had led to this mess. Picking up your phone, you answered the incoming call from one of the reporters.  
"This is a delicate matter, and we are currently fact-checking all the information," you replied, maintaining a professional tone. "We will be releasing an official press statement soon regarding the matter. Thank you for your understanding." 
For the next several minutes, you found yourself answering a seemingly endless stream of phone calls, bombarded with the same questions over and over again. "Who is this girl?" "Is it really Seonghwa?" "Is it official?" With each call, your heart ached a little more, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were the reason behind this mess, and with each question, the weight of your actions became increasingly clear. Seonghwa finally emerged from the bathroom, he was fully dressed, his hair neatly combed back, and his face, although still showing signs of distress, was more composed. He settled down next to you, the distance between you heavy with unspoken tension. You could feel his gaze burning into you, his eyes searching for answers in the depths of your own. But as he heard you denying what happened during countless phone calls, a flicker of hurt flashed across his features, overshadowing the mask of composure he had worn moments before. 
"Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "Why are you doing this? We can't keep pretending like nothing happened." His words cut through the silence like a knife, leaving you speechless in their wake. You could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, demanding honesty in the face of your denial. But as you met his eyes, you saw the pain reflected in their depths, and a pang of guilt surged through you. You had hurt him deeply with your words, and now, as you continued to deny the truth, you were only adding to his anguish. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze any longer. In that moment, you felt more alone than ever, trapped in a web of lies and deceit from which there seemed to be no escape.  
Once the calls ended, with a heavy heart, you began to draft a press release denying the rumors. As you typed, your mind raced with thoughts of how to properly word your denial, how to ensure that it would put an end to the rampant speculation. Seonghwa, who had been observing silently, finally spoke up, his tone filled with discontent. "Why are you denying it?" he asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and frustration. 
"Seonghwa, we have to," you tried explaining,  
"No, we don't," he retorted, his voice steady and determined. "We don't have to lie. We don't have to hide." 
"Seonghwa, we can't just admit to this. The backlash... it could ruin your career," you argued, your voice tinged with desperation. 
"And what? We lie? We hide?" Seonghwa countered, his voice filled with frustration.  
"We need to think about the consequences. The fans, the company... it's not just us we have to consider." you countered, trying to maintain your composure. 
"I don't care about that," he said, his voice softening. "I care about you. I care about us. I don't want to lie about that." 
"But this isn't just about us. There are other people involved. Our actions have consequences." you responded, your voice breaking slightly. 
"I know that" he said, his tone resolute. "But isn't our relationship worth fighting for?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. As the weight of your situation bore down, you felt the sting of desperation clawing at your heart, driving you to speak words you knew would hurt Seonghwa deeply. 
"What relationship are you even talking about, Seonghwa? We hadn't even had a 'what-are-we' talk, and everything is ruined," you spat out, your voice laced with bitterness and regret. "We kissed less than 24 hours ago, and now we're all over the news." The words spilled out of you like poison, each one laced with the bitter taste of reality. You could see the pain flicker across Seonghwa's face, his eyes clouding with hurt and confusion. But you couldn't stop yourself, couldn't hold back the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. "We need to protect you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "There's no 'us' in this, Seonghwa. It's just you, and your career, and the future you've worked so hard for. I won't let you throw it all away for me." Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to bear the weight of Seonghwa's gaze any longer. In that moment, you knew that you had hurt him deeply, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret those words. For better or worse, they were the truth, the raw, unfiltered truth that lay at the heart of your impossible situation. 
"You don't get to decide that" Seonghwa replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "You don't get to decide what I throw away or keep. It's my life, my career, my future. And you... you're a part of that, whether you like it or not." His words hung heavy in the air, an undeniable truth that weighed down on your heart. "We're in this together, and I'm not letting you walk away just because you're scared. So, let's face this together. Let's fight for 'us', for our future. Because, in my eyes, there's no 'me' without 'us'." You stared at him, your heart pounding. His words echoed in your mind, raw and powerful. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear. Could you really fight for this? For him? Suddenly, the weight of your decision seemed more significant, more daunting. 
"I... I don't know, Seonghwa," you stuttered, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can do this. If I can put you at risk like that." 
But Seonghwa just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's not for you to decide," he countered gently. "I'm ready to face whatever comes our way. And I want you by my side. So, will you fight with me?" 
148 notes · View notes
livingformintyoongi · 15 hours
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BTS fic recs
I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.
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Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK
summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.
Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.
Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG
Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.  I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.
Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK
Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.
S'more than friends by @borathae MYG
Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.
Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK
Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.  Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….
Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK
summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.
Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH
Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.
17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK
summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.
Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS
JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.
The proposal by @hansolmates JJK
summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.
Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH
Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.
Orange tulips by @kainks JJK
Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.
What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime
Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).
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badasbebi · 3 days
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home is where the heart is ➛ ♡
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?
✦ word count: 14k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.
✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3
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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness. 
 You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.
While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.
Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.
The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.
As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.
Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair. 
"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."
The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars. 
She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. 
"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her. 
"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. 
"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.
She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.
"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.
The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them. 
"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.
Maybe not those words.
"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"
You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"
"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."
"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."
"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway. 
"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.
"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"
You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.
You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."
She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."
"Yup."
You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut. 
As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again. 
You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.  
The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life. 
As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you. 
Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to. 
In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.  
You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.  
By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips. 
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 "I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"
You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.  
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat. 
"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.  
Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.
You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off. 
You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked. 
"You okay?" a voice asks.
You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands. 
Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions." 
Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better." 
Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"
You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful." 
Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!" 
You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."
Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.
"What would I do without you?" you ask.
Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.
The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree. 
"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.
"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.
"Are you at least going home soon?"
She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."
You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."
You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.
As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.
The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.
Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.
You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.
When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.
You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.
You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything. 
As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up,  your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours. 
A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.
You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.
"Bada?" you question, bewildered.
"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock. 
She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization. 
"Since when?" 
She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."
"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."
Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."
You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"
You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.
"Hey, wait."
You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"
Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"
She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."
You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"
"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."
"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."
"Gotcha," she replies.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."
She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."
"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.
When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.
You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy. 
You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind. 
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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.
You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.
You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.
You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this. 
Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.
Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes. 
"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"
"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"
"I-"
"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."
"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”
Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."
"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”
You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”
He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?” 
You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"
He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”
He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.
"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.
"What?" His mouth hangs open.
You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”
"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."
His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”
Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.
"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her. 
The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”
"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."
"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.
"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."
The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.
Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk. 
Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off. 
Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”
You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."
Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."
"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."
Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”
You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."
Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.
She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.
"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.  
"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.
"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry. 
You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them." 
She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."
Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."
She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one. 
You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.
But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?" 
"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”
"I'll hold you to it."
"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs. 
"Everything alright?" you ask.
She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."
You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"
"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."
Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."
"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh. 
You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."
You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry." 
She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."
You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."
She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"
"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops. 
"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter. 
She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"
Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."
She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.
And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.
You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand.  She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street. 
The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.
"What's up?" she questions.
You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work. 
"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"
"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."
"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"
She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."
You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.
As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."
"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"
"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."
You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.
"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?
But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?
"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.
"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."
She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.
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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.
But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident. 
Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor? 
After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering  what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip. 
A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends. 
Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!
Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?
Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.
y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.
You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.
You're about to stand up when you get a response.
Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(
y/n: i won't.
Jasmine: good.
Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?
You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.
y/n: yes.
Jasmine: OMG!!!
Jasmine: details plz!
You laugh.
y/n: it's none of your business, lol.
Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!
y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything
Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.
You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.
You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.
"Hey!" you greet.
"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is. 
"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.
"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."
"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."
"Yeah, definitely."
She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package. 
Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?
There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.
"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"
You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more. 
Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.
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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.
It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!
Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”
You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.
You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.
Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.
You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.
"Hey!" you greet.
She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."
"How are you?" you ask.
"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.
"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.
"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.
"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”
"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire. 
You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented. 
"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"
"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.
"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."
"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."
"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”
”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”
"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.
“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"
"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.
You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."
You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.
When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff. 
"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."
Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators. 
You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.
You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.
You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.
You'd be fine. 
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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.
"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.
"Honey, please, don't make a scene."
"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”
"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.
The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.
And now…
"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.
"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.
"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.
"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."
You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.
"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.
"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.
"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."
"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"
You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream. 
"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.
"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.
She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."
"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.
"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"
"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"
A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.
"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.
"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.
Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."
"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close. 
Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"
You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.
The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.
"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.
"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.
"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."
"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.
"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.
"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open. 
"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door. 
You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.
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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"
She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."
"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."
You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."
Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.
"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head. 
The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back. 
Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.
"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"
Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"
"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."
"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."
After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."
She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.
Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.
"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.
"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.
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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.
"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"
"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.
"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"
"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."
She blinks. "You would?"
The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no. 
Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."
"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."
You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building. 
"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events. 
"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"
"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.
I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."
The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.
"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.
"Huh?"
"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”
"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."
"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face. 
"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.
"My girl?"
"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"
"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.
"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."
"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.
"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in. 
"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.
"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute. 
"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."
"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again. 
"You were clearly having a good time."
"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.
"Well, at least we're even now."
"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.
Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything. 
"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.
"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.
"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.
"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.
"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.
"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh. 
"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."
"Y/n!"
You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.
"Fine," she finishes with a pout. 
The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease. 
"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."
"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.
"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."
"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."
"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."
"Please stop."
"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"
"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.
"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected. 
She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."
You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.
"You're ridiculous," you retort.
"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.
"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."
"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.
She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"
Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"
"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.
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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time. 
You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment. 
"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.
"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled. 
"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."
You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.
"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.
"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you. 
She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.
"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.
"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.
"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.
"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.
”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”
"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.
"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."
Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"
You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.
"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.
"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.
"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.
You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”
She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.
"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."
"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.
"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.
"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."
You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.
"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."
She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more. 
"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.
"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”
Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.
"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."
"I'm here for you too," you whisper.
A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.
"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”
You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.
"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.
"And by pretty good, you mean..."
"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."
"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.
"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.
"Yes, please."
"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.
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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face. 
You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.
"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.
"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.
"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"
You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."
You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.
"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.
"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.
"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.
"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."
"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."
"Really?"
"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.
"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.
The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.
She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.
The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.
"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.
She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.
"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.
"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.
"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.
"So, I was right about you wanting details?"
"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.
Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.
When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.
She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.
Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.
"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.
"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.
"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.
You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.
"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.
She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.
You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.
"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.
You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.
You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.
"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.
"Good?"
"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."
You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.
"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.
You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.
Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s
"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"
You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."
She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.
"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.
She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.
"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.
Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.
She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.
When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.
"How are you doing?"
"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.
"Then let's go to sleep."
You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.
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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.
The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.
"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.
"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.
"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."
"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.
"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.
"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."
"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.
"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.
"But what? What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.
You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.
"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'
Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.
"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.
"I don't know."
"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.
Y/N,
This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?
"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.
"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.
"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"
"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.
You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?
130 notes · View notes
suempu · 14 hours
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Looooving the Laios content!!!! If you have any nsfw headcanons for him we would love to hear those too👀
<3 i tried to keep it as gn as possible. reader is on the receiving end
laios wouldn’t really be interested in sexual things unless you ask him about it.
getting intimate with him would have to happen at random or unplanned.
he’s really just content with kissing and hugging you, he’s never once thought of sex. one kiss is enough to get him so high and happy.
please makeout with this man, it gets him going. he loves your lips, the way you hum into his mouth, and the gentle caresses you leave on his arm while you do.
your first makeout session gets him hard. normally, you two only exchange sweet kisses and touches, so he was shocked when you decided to crawl over his lap to hold his face better.
his mind explodes from there.
he’s a whimperer, please guys agree with me on this. a lot of quiet gasps and surprised voice cracks are gonna come out of him.
“mmf… nghh… mMph-!”
he loves it when you tug on his hair, when your fingers dig into his roots and firmly pulling it back while you grind down at him.
laios likes putting his hands around your body, he embraces you while moaning into your mouth, eager for more of your taste.
dont get me started with the whole “taste” thing.
this man loves to eat, we all know that. but he loves to eat you.
the first time is awkward, as he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch you and he’s quite hesitant.
“i just… don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
“laios, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it, okay?
you’re both learning each other’s bodies, and after much reassurance he leans in and nips at your neck.
he’s a… mouthy person. loves sucking on your skin, biting your ear (gently of course), moaning into your shoulder. one thing he loves to do, which isn’t inherently sexual, is to wrap his arms around you while nosing and kissing the skin between your jaw to your shoulder.
he trails his lips all over you, making you giggle and moan at the same time. he just likes feeling you out tbh
laios is def girthy, nothing extreme, just a bit thicker than you’d realize. he’s kind of shy at first, no one has ever seen him like this so he doesn’t know if he’s considered “sexy” or attractive
until now, he paid no mind to his body, didn’t care if people found him hot or anything, but he’s suddenly embarrassed when its you.
“i-is it good enough…?”
“you’re literally bigger than 4 of my fingers combined.”
but yes, please praise this man. tell him you love him and that he’s beautiful.
laios eats up the praise, he has a dopey smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. he loves knowing that he can satisfy you, it makes him feel fulfilled.
once you actually get to it, his body was trembling from the heat and warmth. he moans shakily while nuzzling his face into your hair, murmuring about how good you feel and how much he loves you.
he’s really loud. he’ll moan in your ear with no hesitation and you tease him about it afterwards.
aftercare with him is comfy and cozy. you both are spent as you cuddle into each other, basking in the afterglow.
he has such a loving gaze, he looks so much like a big puppy that it makes your heart melt.
“that… was really good.” he sighs, lips nuzzled into your hair. pulling back from his chest, you rub his cheeks as you relax into the pillows, staring up at him with a smug face. “i can tell. with the way you came after 10 seconds.”
“please don’t.” he groans.
don’t worry, after a few times he will memorize all the sensitive spots in your body and get you to cum a thousand more.
laios has good stamina and he can go for at least 2 or 3 more rounds. if you’re too tired, he’ll use his remaining energy to carry you to the bathroom and wash you both off.
will unintentionally get hard while he’s cleaning you, so please forgive him for that. he’s just really attracted to you lmao
“next time maybe you can try pulling my hair.” you lean back against his chest in the tub. “or maybe a tug?”
“i don’t know… i wouldn’t wanna accidentally hurt you.”
“……”
“…”
“laios are you hard right now?”
“i’m sorry.”
after that, you both will have a relaxing routine of drying each other’s hair and brushing your teeth before sleeping.
laios is eager to learn more about your body and he’s genuinely excited to figure out what gets you going. 100/10 lover, he can’t wait to go again.
129 notes · View notes
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To the Edge of Chaos
Chapter 1
Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)
Safe to say your initial plan at robbery back fired in more ways than one. The second attempt went much much worse yet somehow by the mercy of God you aren't dead. Just trapped...on a ship...with no way out. Well not until you pay for your indiscretions made against a certain sailing master that is...
Was this a blessing in disguise? Or did you just enter a new kind of hell?
Warnings: MNDI mention of death, trauma and difficult situations, embarrassing moments, fluff and teasing, slight bullying, mention of kissing and other touching but nothing explicit, slight dub con if you squint, talk of death and mourning, crude language, attempted SA and torture (not by Gaz or the 141), Lots of blood and some gore towards the end of the chapter, talk of revenge, talk of heritage, sorry if I missed any.
Pictures are for aesthetic purposes only. They do not indicate the reader.
To the Edge of Chaos
Masterlist
Words: 7.1k
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The Sun was sweltering, practically beating down molten rays on your delicate skin. You weren't used to feeling the burn of the afternoon sun. Your fragile composition wasn't adequately prepared for the dehydration that followed. Especially not with the light reflecting off blue waves almost blinding you. White entered your vision, shooting a stinging pain throughout your eyes.
You were overwhelmed, overbearingly so. So much was going on at once. Too much to pay attention to if you wanted to stay sane for a while longer. Burning heat, sweating palms, queasy stomach. Your legs found themselves moving towards the railing in a hurry. Strong winds, crashing waves, people shouting. Your ears buzzed, your brain's way of signaling an oncoming headache. One that was threatening to throw you overboard. Much like your breakfast.
Sweat trickled down your back as your body lurched with the motions of the ship, It caused your stomach to clench with unease. Your hands gripped the railing so tight that you were afraid the wood would come away with your swaying. But you still held on with difficulty. Why did everyone else make it look so easy?
You clearly weren't built to walk on ships it seems…
The hussle and bussle of your new surroundings was a welcomed distraction. Moving bodies, resulted in a busy mind. Busy minds had no time to mourn or to think about past sins. You preferred it like that. You hadn't had the time to fall apart. Not among strangers that is. A change in scenery would probably do you some good. But you'd be lying if you said you were adjusting well to it.
Having never done manual labour, you had a lot to prove to gain any ounce of respect from your new companions. Regardless of the fact that your presence here was forced. By your own doing but still forced. Escaping pirates was a lot more difficult than you anticipated. There was no use dwelling on your unfortunate circumstances that had led you to try to rob him a second time… the first time you chickened out pretty quickly.
Calls could be heard overhead for sails to be adjusted. It was probably the Captain. Captain Price as you were to call him. You haven't spoken to him since Gaz had all but begged for you to be let on board. Nothing out of the ordinary of course he was a busy man.
It was a busy ship. Easily over a 100 men and women, mostly men though. You hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to everyone but a few familiar faces were starting sticking out to you now. Some you definitely preferred to avoid.
Despite not knowing anyone closely you've already accumulated a nickname among the diverse crew. You didn't want to dive into the details of how they had decided on it. You were still lamenting the stupid decision that led to it.
“Watch yer head Fish boy!” The awful nickname rings out as the other crew members brush past you. You don't get the time to feel embarrassed as Farah calls for ropes to be adjusted from the crowsnest. You duck out of their way to the best of your ability. Your legs are still a little unsteady forcing you to grab onto the nearest structure to hold you up. Which unfortunately happened to be a person.
Whoever it was, they laugh as you clutch onto them for support while the rest of the crew go about their duties. It's only when you turn your head that you realise you've made a dire mistake. Dire to your self esteem that is.
His mirthful blue eyes bore into yours while apologies dripped from your chapped lips. Not that it would spare you from what you were about to experience. You flail about, desperately trying to find something else to hold onto. Desperately trying to find an escape from whatever it was he was about to subject you to.
“Come on lad! Find yer sea legs! Farah likes ‘er deck in tip top shape,” you watch the man who you now know as Soap or Johnny as Ghost liked calling him grab you by the back of the collar as you quickly wipe your mouth clean.
He seems a little childish to be stationed as a Master Gunner. But you didn't run this ship so it shouldn't bother you who had what job. But it did…it very much did.
Him having easy access to guns made your blood run cold because he was also the man who wanted you dead not long ago (not that he realises who you truly are). You shiver envisioning a situation where he did know. What would he do to you?
He hauled you over to where you were needed or ‘stationed’ to be more accurate. Not that you knew what you were doing but cleaning shouldn't be too hard. Or ‘swabbing the deck’ as Farah (the Boatswain) had put it. You just needed to stop making a mess first.
“Oh ye fragile thing! Come on scrub like ye mean it!”, he continues his teasing while you grab a brush to scrub the deck. The other men watch snickering to themselves at situations you've found yourself in.
“What? Never worked ah day in yer life? Ah don't think we'll keep ye long if ye don't cop on.” the men around you laugh again at his words, enjoying the torment he was putting you through. A right of passage if you will. Not that you appreciated it one bit. How many days will it go on for? You knew you weren't the strongest or the smartest for that matter but you were sure you could be of some use. You just needed to find out what it was.
“I'm sorry sir…I'll try harder”, you tense your aching muscles trying to put more weight down on the brush to appease the man behind you. The threat of being left behind at the next port wasn't settling well in your stomach. You felt you were about to be sick again. You looked around hoping to spot Gaz to aid you in this teasing but he wasn't around. Your heart sinks in disappointment as you continue scrubbing.
“Come on fish boi! Earn yer keep! You can't keep relying on Gaz to save you.” The crew around you join in on the jeering while shame creeps up your neck right to your ears. With your already heated skin. The situation was making your skin crawl.
You hated people looking at you so closely. It puts you on edge. Especially now that you couldn't wear your veils anymore. You were so used to being hidden that the attention wasn't at all welcomed. You haven't worn them since you escaped the dungeons of the palace. The whole ensemble would draw too much attention especially when you were disguising yourself as a boy.
“Ah pretty face ain't gonna cut it here. Not like it did for Gaz that is,” before Soap could reduce you to a pile of tears you watch Farah climb down from the crows nest pulling up her sleeves as she strides on over. Her mere presence demanded all your attention.
And what a woman she was..so much confidence in her stride alone. It made you feel both safe and inadequate all at once. You wanted to be like that, resilient like her, strong like her, fearless like her.
She delivers a hefty smack just as Soap's about to open his big mouth again. Which again is met with laughter from the crew. You see quite a few women laughing now too.
“Thats rich coming from someone who's warms the bed of our Quartermaster don't you think?”
“Hey that hurt! And besides ah have other uses apart from my pretty face unlike fish boi,” Soap rubs the back of his head to alleviate the sting while he turns to face the shorter woman. Yet it seemed somehow Farah stood taller, leveling him with an unamused look. You were surprised he was so open about his relationship but then again everything goes on pirate ships it seems. But before Farah can defend you another voice rings out across the deck.
“Actually he has plenty of uses, you just won't have the pleasure of experiencing them..”, the warm sultry voice that you hated yourself for liking makes itself known in the form of Gaz climbing onto the main deck from the side of the ship.
Must have been fixing something.
Your eyes roam his body, keying in on the sweat dripping down his open beige shirt. His brass necklace gleams around his neck. The amber stones adorning it as beautiful as they were, didn't come close to the beauty of his eyes.
Once you realise you were ogling you try to look away quickly as you could. But Gaz being the sly man he is, catches you at the last second despite continuing his conversation with Soap. A sinister smirk graces his features. One that you're all too familiar with. Especially when you share a hammock with him at night. He winks at you openly causing the crew to whistle at his gesture.
“I can't believe the captain allowed ye tae bring yer boy toy on board.” Soap jokes wrapping his arms around Gaz. They looked like old friends who enjoyed teasing each other. Soap certainly loves any chance to tease anyone in his vicinity.
“You hardly have the right to complain when you get to share a private room with Ghost.” Soap laughs at his comment and there's no offense in his eyes. You suspected he liked the attention.
“Perks or being pretty and useful it seems. I'm sure Ghost would have loved you too but I think I'm more his type.”
“Didn't know ‘annoying’ was his type. But then again it must be if he’s going to deal with your drunk ass all the time.” The crew join in on the jeering until Soap starts up again unfazed by it. Thick skin unlike you.
“You forgot about the part about me being extremely handsome.” Soap flexes his muscles earning him chuckles from the men and women around him.
“I think the power is getting to your head mate. Might have to put in a formal complaint with the captain.” Gaz smacks Soap's arm when he doesn't stop his ridiculous flexing. You watch as Farah rolls her eyes at their stupid banter before ushering Soap towards the hull.
“Run along, don't you have some actual work to do? Unless you want to go report to your lover as to why you have a handprint on your cheek,” she looks at him sternly
“Aye ah was just on meh way,” But before he leaves Soap pulls you into a headlock. It takes you by surprise as you try to worm out of his thick biceps.
“Work hard fish boi,” he laughs as you continue your struggle to escape. He lets go quickly but ruffles your hair which you assumed was his way of apologising.
He sends you off with a hefty smack to the shoulder. One that almost sends you flying to the floor. Farah shouts at him from behind voicing her annoyance. While you rub your shoulder to alleviate some of the ache.
Were men always this rough? Your experience with them was minimal so you weren't all that used to the touching or the rough treatment for that matter. You're shocked they even bothered to allow you on board after you tried to rob their star treasure hunter and Sailing Master but then again Gaz had insisted on you being here (to pay him back more specifically).
Your weary eyes find his again only to see him supporting an amused expression. He gives you a final wink before following after Soap.
“Ok back to work everyone! Ayah! Alex! On the foremast ropes, make sure they're secure.”
“Aye Didi” “Yes ma’am” You watch as another veiled woman and a blond man make their way to the foremast deck. The foreign words aren't lost on your ears. You recognise the few you learned growing up. Mostly from your wet nurse and your personal maids after your mother's passing. You bet she would have taken great joy in teaching you, were she alive today.
You only have old portraits to reference her appearance to. Well not even that anymore given your circumstances. Many of the crew members either spoke the language fluently or in broken terms. It left something wanting in your heart. Having been denied learning anything to do with your mother's heritage, a bitterness settles on your tongue at the loss of something you never got to experience.
“Don't mind him. He doesn't mean harm. The men here like playing about,” you hear Farah approach you with sympathy. You just nod at her, unable to look her in the eyes due to your mixed feelings.
The next hour is spent with Farah teaching you to keep steady and how to scrub the deck efficiently despite probably having more important work to do. She was patient and kind but still stern enough to get the message across. Like an older sister. She made it clear you'd need to pull your weight or you wouldn't be staying long on this ship. Once she leaves you go back to throwing water on boards and scrubbing them to the best of your ability. At least your nausea wasn't so bad anymore.
-some time later
You try to focus on work, truly you do. But your body was sore from the events of a couple nights ago. Events that have led you to work on this boat. Whether you wanted to or not.
Gaz was near the captain now with a map in hand planning their next destination to god knows where. It wasn't like you had a say in where you were going. Definitely not after what happened at the river.
The skin on your lips tingle with the memory of what he did to you in the early hours of today. Salty winds sting the broken skin where he last touched you. Where he last set your skin alight. Automatically your hand reaches up to the pendant around your neck. The fiery crystal hums under your fingertips.
The magic hiding your identity, tingles across your heated skin, a constant reminder that you weren't safe here. Not completely that is.
You were convinced that he was the devil's incarnate with the way he had you pliant within seconds of having his hands on you. The last couple of nights have followed a similar structure. With him ushering you to his private corner to do unspeakable things to you. Only a filmey curtain hiding you from the sleeping crew.
He must be the devil. It's the only logical explanation as to why your mind is riddled with thoughts of him even now when you should be focusing on earning your keep and staying safe.
But despite the chiding you've given yourself, your eyes still gravitate towards his radiant face. They still seek his mischievous smile for what feels like the hundredth time today. Probably over a hundred.
You've caught yourself looking at him far too often for it to be considered normal by any means. You'd think growing up in a royal household, your lessons in decorum would kick in at some point. But no, your mind has completely betrayed you and your body was following closely behind. You couldn't trust yourself to act with rationality especially not under his smoldering gaze. It's gotten so bad that you've even gotten a couple crew members teasing you for your crush. Despite everyone but Gaz thinking you were a boy.
You needed to get a grip on yourself. You had way more important things to worry about. Like surviving longer than a couple of days on this ship.
You didn't understand why that was proving more difficult than convincing someone pigs could fly. Hell, you'll have an easier time convincing someone pigs could fly than convincing them you didn't have a crush on Gaz.
You try to shut off your brain, try to focus solely on the tasks assigned to you. But flashes of his beautiful face still haunt your mind. They infect your senses forcing you to relive the moments you keep trying to push down. Memories of his hands on your waist, his lips on your skin, his breath fanning your face. Amber eyes striping you of your defenses.
You needed to get a grip. Easier said than done.
Those kisses don't mean anything to him. Not the kisses, not his feverish touches. That's what you keep telling yourself. It couldn't have meant anything to him. He was a pirate for one and two he had plenty of women throwing themselves into his arms.
What were you in that sea of women?
...Just another grain of sand…
That's what you've kept repeating since the incident at the river. Despite this you find yourself licking the sweet remnants of his smile off your sore bitten lips, the lips he forced apart with his tongue. The lips he stole the very breath from.
You're still unable to get the feeling of him holding your jaw ever so delicately out of your mind, or the way his hands found themselves over your throat the second you had touched his coin purse at the moment you had tried to rob him. Or earlier today how his hands slowly found their way to your hips and then to your…
Your eyes burn into the wood of the deck you’re scrubbing as a way to distract yourself from the forbidden events that occurred in the early hours of this morning.
-midnight, four nights ago
You were a fool, an utter fool.
God knows what gave you the confidence to think you could seduce a pirate. And a very handsome pirate at that. One that was surrounded by beautiful women while you were dressed like a servant boy.
The alcohol probably compromised your thinking for a little bit. Glad you came to your senses then.
The red pendant on your neck heated against your skin indicating it was working to conceal your feminine features. It was only a light glamour at best you still had to bind your chest in case anyone tried touching you unexpectedly. It was too dangerous to take everything off just to seduce him. He had a harem of women already hanging over his every word, what need did he have for you?
You could hardly compete with their full bosoms and beautiful curves. Not dressed like this anyway. You weren't competing with anyone dressed like a street rat. Maybe you could just ask for some work to do in exchange for some coins and then you'd be on your merry way to safety. Yeah that option was more diplomatic. You didn't want to steal if you didn't have to.
You mull around for a bit, coming up with the best approach to guarantee your success. The second you work up the confidence to approach him, you stride over with all the poise you can muster.
That was your first mistake. Because not even a second later the eyes of nine ferocious felines descended upon you like hell fire. You freeze in front of them like a lost cub. Playing the part of someone who was clearly out of their depth. Your hands shook as you tried to introduce yourself but you couldn't even find the resolve to utter a single word. Let alone maintain eye contact with anyone. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, much to the amusement of the woman and men watching you. Fuck..say something idiot.
Any poise you had prior to this vanished in the time it takes for a pirate to down his rum. Which you watched the majestic man do as you stood there frozen in place. The umber liquid trickled down his throat as you stared at his adam's apple bob. His sharp eyes studied you like a hawk on the lookout for prey. Licking off the remnants of the sweet nectar of his lips, his kohl covered eyes scrutinize you up and down.
Curiosity was evident all over his face. Heat followed his eyes as if he was appraising your worth, appraising your value. Practically sizing up meat to put on a butcher's block. The other men weren't much different. They eyed you with suspicion but also intrigue. You presume not many people come up to them asking for things.
The longer they stared, the quicker you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, wanted the shadows to consume you, wanted to dissolve in nothingness. The men of his crew began snickering to themselves while a woman put her arms around the handsome man's neck making sure to whisper seductively in his ear. But his eyes never strayed from yours nor did his expression change. Or the expression of the man beside him.
The woman's hard eyes locked with yours before she and her friends burst into laughter. You had no idea what she had said and you definitely didn't want to find out. Mortification painted your face while heat licked at every inch of your skin. With your nails digging into your palms you hastily backtrack still unable to voice a single sentence to save any ounce of respect one would have for themselves.
You escape with your head down low as the crew bellowed in laughter, clearly entertained by the spectacle you made of yourself.
You rush out into the cold night not looking where you were going only to collide with a brick wall. Great, make an even bigger fool out of yourself, why don't you.
You stumble back only for two large hands to steady you before you fall. Strong but gentle hands steady your feet.
“Careful there boi. Watch where you're goin,” a gruff voice rings out. Your body shuts down for a second before jolting back to life. You tint your head up only to realise you've bumped into the very man you told yourself to stay away from. His obsidian eyes pierced into yours, paralysing your tongue with fear akin to venom. The night air tore into your delicate flesh as you trembled in his oddly gentle grasp.
He was a ghastly sight. That alone was enough to have you shivering with fear. With a broken skull that seemed fused to his face it looked as if death had come to deliver you to an early grave. But before you could scream or try to say anything another person joins the conversation.
“Ghost…*hiccup* please..one more.. just..one more glass…promise ah'll be.. ah’ll be good old boi *hiccup*,” you watch the man with odd haircut stumble his way away from the walk to clutch onto the back of the beastly man who was holding your shoulders. The man let's go of you with a defeated sigh only to gently hoist up his friend who clearly had too much to drink.
“Enough of that Johnny I'm taking you back to the ship.” The man called Ghost gives you a final nod before helping his friend onto his back to carry to wherever their ship was. You watch the drunk man mumble his frustration as he rests his head on the bigger man's shoulder.
Maybe you were too harsh to judge him. He seemed decent enough for a pirate if not a bit rough around the edges. He didn't seem malicious though.
You take a second to catch your breath before tightening the cloak around you. The night air was chilling you to the bone and you had nowhere to rest. Best to keep moving. It was safer that way.
-a little while before dawn
The sky took on a lilac hue as the cold air eased up on its bite. You were exhausted, truly exhausted. Your feet were now trudging along with difficulty, but despite this you knew you had to keep going.
There were many streets you shouldn't have ended up on last night. Many times forcing you to make quick detours for your own safety. But somehow you still managed to almost get dragged into an alley, twice in one night alone. Thankfully you had a dagger on you, courtesy of your uncle.
It was an heirloom from your mother's side. Gifted to you on your coming of age ceremony by your father. The ceremony you remember disappearing from the second the important parts were over. The nobles never really liked you.
You laugh remembering that you spend the day hiding in the kitchen rather than greeting guests. That was this time three years ago. You don't think you've attended many events after that, not if you could avoid them that is. You wonder if your uncle was ok. Was the royal council in shambles at your disappearance? What were they going to do once they found out the execution wasn't going to happen?
Your mind wanders as you spot some merchants wheeling their goods to the market. The smell of freshly baked bread caused your stomach to constrict in pain. It's been a while since you've eaten well. The dungeons weren't the most accommodating towards you.
The food reminded you of more simple days when your personal maid would bring you fresh fruits and scones for breakfast. Faiza was her name. The daughter of your mother's personal maid. She was one of your best friends. One who'd often conspire with you on the best plan to avoid your classes for the day. That memory seemed so distant now. You wondered what happened to her after your arrest.
Law studies were never really your forte nor were any of the other boring and tedious classes you were forced to attend. Not that you actually attended them. It was done out of spite really. You hated the royal tutors as much as they hated you.
They denied you the knowledge you wished to attain. It was often snatched from you. Books ripped to shreds when you were caught with them. Your mother's history, her native language, her home, her heritage. You were denied everything. You were denied parts of yourself.
You don't understand why the marriage happened between your parents if all the noble families hated your mother so much. At least your father loved her.
Your father tried to help the best he could but his hands were often tied. Because of the guilt he held he never forced the role of crown princess on you despite you being the only heir to the throne. He valued your happiness above anything else. You suppose he gave you all the freedom he could.
But you're understanding now how selfish that was of you. Especially when you had duties to look after, people to care for. Funny how you only realise how good life was once everything gets taken from you. There was so much guilt in your heart, you felt disgusted with yourself. There was an urge to claw at your skin in rage. But you held yourself back.
You couldn't fall apart right now, not when you were so weak. The men here would eat you alive at the first drop of blood. Like hounds sniffing for prey, any cut on you would lead wolves to your den. You steel yourself the best you can, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over.
Your heart ached with the memories of your father and a mother you never got to know. Now left alone with no family to turn to. You pulled your cloak around you tighter, mimicking the way your father would often tuck you into bed when you were little.
He was a kind and forgiving king and an even more forgiving father. Far too kind, far too trusting for his own good. But so were you. You had learned it from him. Neither of you saw this situation coming until it was too late.
Now death haunts you while guilt runs through your veins. You needed to prove your innocence. For your father's sake if not your own. But for that you needed money to survive. Which you didn't have much off. The last few pennies chime in your hidden purse. It wouldn't be enough, you know it wouldn't.
This side of the city was very different to the streets you were used to. There was an air of pain here you couldn't really describe or explain. Things were gloomier, more stout, less vibrant. You see children as little as four doing menial labour to survive. A sight you were never accustomed to. You keep your head low as you wander near the stalls.
One bread wouldn't hurt to take, right?
But that wasn't the right thing to do. You were raised better than that. The merchants seemed to be struggling themselves. Maybe you could ask to help in exchange for bread. The only reason you were going to steal from the pirates was because you looked like they had plenty to spare and the majority of it was probably stolen from some nobles anyway. So that knowledge made it somewhat acceptable in your mind.
You make your way towards the baker to ask if you could work in exchange for some food but before you can reach the market centre some naval officers saunter in from the east side. They were clearly drunk as they stumbled down the cobblestone road while mirthfully laughing at their own stupid jokes. You could practically smell the booze off them from where you stood.
“Oi pretty girl! Yeah you! Do ye have permits to sell here!” You watch one of guards stumble his way towards the stall of a pretty young woman. It's not long after that his friends are crowding her too. You watch them puff out their chest, trying to appear bigger than they were. They looked like fools.
“Permit? I w-wasn’t told about any permits”, the poor woman stands there perplexed by the question, unable to come up with an answer to the rapid words the men were spewing at her. She's fresh faced, new to business anyone could see that from a glance. Her stall is small with only a few flowers and medicinal herbs on display. Cowards picking on someone smaller than them.
“Yeah, a permit! You think just anyone is allowed to sell around the market!?”, you watch as a younger guard slur out his words at the poor woman. He was practically spitting his annoyance at her.
“I'm sorry sir I didn't know! Please forgive me! I'll pack up right away!” The woman hastily tries to pack and get away from the vile men but a blond bearded guard snatches her arms as she tries to put away her goods. Something boils in your blood as you watch the mannerisms they were subjugating her to.
You looked around perplexed that no one was willing to help. Everyone either ignores what was going on or looks away hastily to avoid making eye contact with the guards. How often did this happen?
“No can do sweetheart. We'll have to lock you up for the sale of illegal goods. Come with us!”, you watch as they try to haul her feeble figure across the road with them. She struggles and begs but no one does anything.
“Please sir! I have a sick sister to care of! Please spare me! It won't happen again!”, you're trembling with rage as you watch on but still unable to move. Fear grips your limbs cementing you in place.
Coward, do something! You have a dagger! Do something! Do anything!
“If you don't want to go to prison love, we have other ways for you to repay us,” the naval officers laughed as if this whole situation was a joke to them. You watch one of the men squeeze the woman's hips as she cries in pain.
At that point you don't know what came over but you grab the biggest rock laying nearby, hurling it towards the man who had his hands on her.
“Ah fuck! Who threw that!” The rock hits him square in the head, pretty hard at that too. Blood pools on his receding hairline as he clutches his head in agony. But you can't seem to care. Your nerves were vibrating and if no one was going to help, you would!
The whole group turns towards you in anger while hushed whispers circulate through the market. You watch as people duck behind their stall for safety anticipating the brawl they were about to witness.
“Me you stupid Pig!” In for a penny in a for pound as they say. You've already hit them once. What's a few more times going to do?
“Run!”, you shout at the sobbing woman before hurling rocks at the drunk officers. Adrenaline courses through your veins while you continue throwing your projectiles at them, taking great joy in their anger and pain. You watch the rocks soar through the air, landing on with a satisfying thud and a musical scream that follows.
At least your archery lessons paid off in some sense. Your understanding of range was pretty good. It was the most alive you've felt in a long time. Not counting the time you managed to slip truth serum into the punch at a ball. That was an extremely good day. So many snobby nobles got punished for insulting the royal family.
Well insulting you more specifically for your mixed blood. It's the reason you wore veils at events and in public. It would piss them off to no end. Since it was something your mother often used. Even your portraits are all with some sort of veil obstructing your face. You used it so often everyone's forgotten what you look like.
But now you couldn't wear it, it would draw too much attention since it was associated with your identity. And now that technically you were considered a boy. A cloak was the best thing you could find adjacent to what you used to wear.
“You stupid little prick! We'll drag you through the gutters for th- Fuck! Stop!” You continue to land hit after hit as you watch the woman finally put a decent distance between herself and the men. She runs like her life depended on it while you continue your onslaught.
That is until you realise the guards were getting far too close for comfort.
“Just wait till we get our hands on you!” Their faces were flushed red from rage and it gave you some sick satisfaction that you were able to piss them off. Filthy swines, they deserved every ounce of pain!
You send a final rock soaring directly into the loins of the blond man before turning and running away as fast as you could.
“Ugh! I'll fucking skin you alive boy!” You don't get to hear the rest of his cursing as you skid and duck into a nearby alley. The men give chase, hot on your trail despite them being drunk. But you were well aware of how dangerous drunk men could be like. Especially men who had any ounce of power to wield.
You navigate the winding alleys with difficulty but are still able to manage to stay ahead for the time being. Buildings blur past you as you stay vigilant on your path. But running was proving to be difficult on an empty stomach. And your muscles seemed on the brink of collapse not long after weaving through alleys.
Winds whips by your face as you hold your hood in place to protect your identity. The small streets split into many smaller routes causing you to panic in your choice, you run right not familiar with the area.
A very bad choice it turns out to be. A wall blocks your way. The stone abrasive over your panicked hands. You hear their voice gaining up on you but you can't turn back. You'd be caught between them if you did.
Your mind races with a solution and the only thing you can do is try to climb over it before it's too late. Sharp stones dig into your delicate flesh while your arms scream in pain as you pull yourself up with great difficulty.
Your only halfway up when they come into view. Their bodies hunched over as their faces scrunched up in rage. Your legs dangle down as you try pushing yourself over. You're able to hurry over just as they try to drag your legs down. Their inhibitions were clearly lacking as they slurred curses at you as you escaped. You laugh as you hear the men groan in frustration.
Your relief is short lived to your utter shock. What you hadn't taken into account was that one of them had taken a different route and was now blocking your exit when you had climbed down, essentially trapping you between him and the wall.
“Nowhere to run now little mouse. We'll show you what we do to disobedient little boys.” He lears at you. The bleeding man looks ready to rip you to shreds. Your blood runs cold all the bravo you were experiencing had vanished in the matter of seconds. Despite this you prepare yourself to run past him.
But luck isn't on your side anymore. You try to swerve him in a panic, only to be thrown to the ground. Pain shoots up your elbow that slams into the stone. Fuck that hurt.
You hope you didn't break it. The rest of the men had climbed over by this point so there were three to your back and a large man to your front. Hastily you try to scramble to get off the ground despite the shooting pain everywhere, only to be kicked back down.
Your muscles scream in pain as the younger officer steps on your leg to keep you imobile. Your bone bends under the pressure threatening to break into two. Your nerve endings beg you to stay down, they beg you to surrender lest you break something. But you don't listen. You couldn't not when you knew what they were about to do to you.
“Don't touch me you pigs!”, you fight, you kick, you scream, you do anything to get out of their hold. Your body was ignited with rage you've never experienced before but it wasn't enough to escape the hold of four men.
“Shut it you brat!”, the man you had hit on the head tries to cover your mouth with his grimy hands while the rest of the men hold you down. But you bite down hard resulting in him back handing you as he screamed in agony. You spit out whatever filth entered your mouth, afraid it'll give you some disease. The second time he backhands you, you feel your lip slit. The metallic taste felt heavy on your tongue as blood coated your mouth.
“Hold him down idiot!”, the vile man shouted. While you continued to fight with all your might.
“I'm trying!” Greedy hands roam your body trying to unbutton your cloak. But you continued your fight, continued the struggle. Your skin crawls with disgust. This time you land a mean kick to the groin of the person trying to take your clothes off.
“Ugh You stupid bastard!” Their pain gives you enough momentum and shock value to grab the dagger in your boot to slice across the men holding you. They scream and move back enough for you to dig the dagger deeper into the man blocking your exit. The vile bastard you had no remorse for.
A spray of blood splatters across your face as you pull the dagger out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. The warm liquid felt odd on your chilled skin. It pooled around you like a spreading disease.
Blood curdling screams bounce off the walls surrounding you. But your hearing is obstructed by blood rushing to your ears. The noises don't deter you as you continue slicing across the air and their skin as they try approach you.
You're pretty sure you might have sliced someone's finger off since it lay on the floor beside you. But you couldn't stay to make sure it was your doing.
Everything from that point is a blur, you're covered in crimson. Red sticky fluid painting your hands and knees. Your body forces you to block out their curses and screams. The walls are stained red. Bodies lay covered in pools of blood. It was all too much.
You run, you don't look back, eyes always ahead. Dagger heavy in your hand you continue running, passing by unfamiliar streets and houses until only your heartbeat could be heard by you.
Red stained your vision. It haunted your sight. It was everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Blood on the ground, blood on the walls, blood on your hands. Skin marred with deep gashes and cuts. Sticky substance coating everything. Severed body parts. Streams of red chasing your feet. A river of red was carving its path towards you. The trail was leading to you.
You push it down focusing on yourself. Your heart, your breathing, your pain. Nothing else, only you. Only you. You needed to worry about you. Streets blur until they start getting sparser and sparser giving way to familiar green lush. A serene haven at the edge of what felt like a crimson hell.
It's only when you break away completely from the hard stone roads do you collapse onto the grass gasping for air like your life depended on it. The wretched smell of metallic iron finally dissipates if only a little bit. You left like you could breathe again.
You look back making sure the city is out of sight before you try sitting down for a second. Your heart continues to hammer as you look down at your blood stained hands, dagger still held tightly.
What have you done..Did you kill them?
You don't get the time to dwell on it when you hear distant shouts of people screaming. They know…the blood is on your hands..of course they know…
Hide! You needed to hide!
Using a nearby tree to haul yourself up you try to find your footing again. Your muscles scream at you to stop and rest but your mind told you to run. And run you do. Deep into the forest where the trees shrouded your sins. Where they blocked out the screams.
You needed to find water to clean the blood away. Something to wash away the sin….
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
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g1rld1ary · 2 days
Text
you never disappointed me - part five
part one part two part three four
➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; luke tries to apologise for the party, but it takes you a while to forgive him (10 things I about you AU)
➻ word count: 3753
➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, swearing
➻ did this take a month? yes. am I sorry? yes. will it happen again? absolutely
TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth @maraudersmyloves losergirlcrowley amortencjja wisecrownpaper iammightsadyall odeasforyou rlqfpdl
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You were humiliated. You’d spent all night crying, mortification setting in thick over your body as you lay on your bed. However, despite how embarrassed you were, you were mostly angry. Angry at Luke for acting so affectionate, for making you believe that he really liked you then pulling away at the last second. Angry at yourself. Angry that after all these years, all it took was one stupid boy to bring down all your walls; angry that you let yourself be led into this situation.
And so that morning, instead of letting yourself mope around about it anymore, you picked yourself up with a new determination. You were angry, and everyone was going to know about it. Your braids were pulled extra tight, not in the mood to deal with flyaways or gentleness, and the smudged eyeliner around your eyes served as a reminder of the tears you’d wasted.
There was a much shorter line at the Lava Wall than usual. Although skipping out on activities could earn you some shitty chores or revoked dessert privileges, your bad mood had seeped into the whole area, practically lowering the temperature around you. You only had a few newer campers dare to enter your territory, and it took a Herculean effort to not snap at them for even coming near you.
Luke watched you from afar, hidden away in one of his typically safe smoking spots. He was trying to gauge your mood, see if anything was fixable. His prospects currently looked grim. He watched in anticipation as a young girl made a dumb mistake. Luke thought it wouldn’t have been her fault — Chiron had made him tour her around camp only a few weeks ago and she’d been pretty beat up before she got to camp. He watched you yank her off the Lava Wall moments before disaster, and held his breath as you both seemed to falter. The girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, and your face was unreadable, which was usually not a good thing. Just as he thought you were going to take out all your feelings on the scared kid, you crouched down to her level, thumb wiping away her spilled tears. You spoke softly to her, bringing her down from an impending breakdown with a gentleness that didn’t often emerge at camp.
The interaction gave Luke some hope, maybe your heart hadn’t totally closed off. That thought was quashed, however, when minutes later you ripped Travis Stoll a new one for being an ‘egotistical dickhead’ as he fooled around on the wall. Luke was genuinely shocked at the volume which came from your body, he could have mistaken it for a conch horn. Even Travis seemed a little taken aback at your outburst. Usually your bad moods were pretty easy to avoid — stay out of your way and you stayed away from others. Clearly today, though, you had anger to get out of your system, and you weren’t hesitant in expressing it.
You were still upset by lunchtime, and your day only got worse.
“Dance for me, cowboy,” Katy Gardener yelled, evil grin shining across the Dining Pavilion. You kept your head down and ignored it, hurrying to your table. A body popped up in front of you, blocking your path.
“What do we owe you for the table dance, babe?” Ethan crooned, and if you were in a slightly more private setting you would have decked him. You grumbled out a “Fuck you,” and shoved past him towards Drew, knowing that at least she wouldn’t reproach you in public. Ethan clearly wasn’t done with you yet, though, and began an all too innocent conversation with Mr D.
“Why don’t you ask how her weekend was, Mr D?” He said, throwing a casual glance over to you.
“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb ass, Elton, I don’t wanna hear it.” You could have kissed Mr D, and then immediately recoiled at the thought. Ethan’s embarrassed expression was enough to please you though, and you sunk into your meal silently, but at least not active with anger.
After lunch Luke tried to apologise to you, or explain himself at least. He knew you were upset, but he was still feeling good about himself. He had noble intentions, and was doing objectively the right thing by not taking advantage of you when you were drunk. None of these sentiments were expressed, though, when you stormed right past him, making sure to land an extra aggressive stomp on his foot as you went. Chris couldn’t hold back his loud laugh, clapping Luke on the back in semi-sympathy as he headed to his own next activity. Luke stood dumbly in his spot for a few minutes, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Clearly you were more upset than he thought.
Your own next activity was Ancient Greek with Mr D. You didn’t know why he taught it at all given you personally thought he was hardly fluent, but it was one activity you actually didn’t mind, especially as you got older. Whilst the younger kids had lessons focused on getting used to the alphabet and language, the elder campers who were more fluent had more traditional ‘english’ classes — learning about texts and languages, only in Ancient Greek so the dyslexia didn’t slow you down as much.
You shot Mr D a tightlipped smile as you walked into the pavilion, hoping to get by the lesson unscathed, though you didn’t have much hope. Both Ethan and Luke were in this class, and you really didn’t want to see either (though Luke usually skipped, so he wasn’t such a pressing issue).
Just your luck, Ethan was already in his unassigned assigned seat behind you, filling in the campers who didn’t attend the party about your escapades. You just rolled your eyes, trying to seem somewhat graceful about your own actions, but the leering eyes of your peers was making it supremely difficult. For once you did regret not making many friends at camp — if you had, maybe your humiliation wouldn’t be such a hot topic, but the very presence of your class reminded you why you had no interest in being friends with them.
The room thankfully quietened down when Mr D walked in, the whole camp somewhat wary of his temper. He started the lesson: Shakespeare. You perked up a bit from your slouched position in the chair. Whilst school wasn’t exactly your strong point with the ADHD and dyslexia, Shakespeare was something you actually kind of understood. When you were younger your Dad had taken you and Silena to a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you’d loved it ever since. Shakespeare translated into Greek was maybe your dream.
Mr D started talking about sonnets, and you got the distinct impression that he didn’t totally know what he was talking about — or just didn’t care enough to go into any detail. You figured that was more correct since he was the god of theatre, but you could never be totally sure with Dionysus. Regardless, he’d moved on from explaining the basic form of a sonnet and had set you a project: write your own version of Shakespeare’s sonnet 141. You sat straighter in your seat, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto your face. You raised your hand, slightly offended by Mr D’s eye roll.
“Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?” He sighed, but you persevered nonetheless.
“Do you want it in iambic pentameter?” You asked.
“You’re not going to fight me on this?” He hesitated, and you revelled in the fact that you could still surprise him after all these years.
“No, I think it’s a really good assignment.”
“You’re just messing with me, right Barton?”
“Beauregard,” You corrected for the thousandth time, “But no. I’m really excited to write it.” You picked uncomfortably at your cargos as the class watched your exchange.
“Go see Chiron.”
“What?”
“Get out!” He yelled, not quite angry but you weren’t going to be the one to test him. There were rumours of previous campers who’d been turned into dolphins and you did not want to continue that legacy. You wandered out of Greek class, still slightly confused at what had just happened, and headed back to your cabin, not bothering to go see Chiron. With the cabin to yourself you tried to get a start on Mr D’s project, but inspiration was lacking and you resorted to taking a nap instead.
The rift between you and Luke became public knowledge at that night’s campfire. Without even realising it you’d started sitting with him most nights (or rather he sat with you, bothering you until you submitted to a conversation). Then suddenly you were avoiding him like the plague, spitting out a harsh “Get fucked, Castellan,” when he called your name softly, almost begging you to talk to him. You were never one to back down from your decisions though, and left him in the dust, taking a seat next to Clarisse. You could tell even Chris could see something was seriously wrong as he pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s hand and disappeared somewhere, presumably to sit with Luke.
You didn’t even really know why you were at the campfire in the first place. You’d been only a handful of times before you knew Luke, and now you didn’t want to know him yet here you were. Clarisse tried to keep you entertained with her quiet comments — which did admittedly make you snort a laugh once or twice, but you were otherwise miserable. You sure as hell weren’t going to participate or chat to anyone, and you were really regretting not just pursuing your usual routine of getting to the top of the Aphrodite cabin for stargazing. Plus, you could feel Luke’s eyes following your every move, and you were getting fed up with the kicked puppy act.
Your final straw was the singing — why was everyone in Camp Half-Blood so obsessed with singing? The second some douchebag from Apollo brought out a guitar you were done, launching yourself out of your seat and stomping back towards your cabin for some peace and quiet. Just as you were crossing the threshold out of the amphitheatre a hand grabbed your arm and you whirled around to face the culprit, ripping your arm out of his embrace.
“Touch me again, Castellan, and I swear to the Gods I will make sure you have no hands to use.”
“Look, I just wanted—”
“I don’t care, Castellan. We don’t always get what we want, do we?” You knew you were being mean, but you frankly didn’t care. When Luke was shocked into silence, mouth slightly open as he searched for anything to say, you took the opportunity to leave him in the dust, trying to keep your confident walk even as your legs were shaking slightly.
“Bro, what did you do to her?” Beckendorf approached Luke up near the exit of the amphitheatre.
“I didn’t do anything,” Luke snapped, before taking a beat to calm himself down, “She would’ve been too drunk to remember.”
“But the plan was working!”
“What do you care? I thought you wanted out.” A slight blush crept on Beckendorf’s face, accompanying the dumb grin.
“Yeah, well I did, but, um, that was until she kissed me.” Despite his own bad luck, Luke couldn’t help but be happy for Beckendorf, slightly hating the fact that the lame younger boy had grown on him significantly. He let Charles ramble about the kiss for a bit despite his decreasing interest in the conversation, very glad when Percy joined them.
“So I talked to Clarisse,” He said, and Luke knew by his tone the news wasn’t going to be good. Beckendorf was still hopeful (or just naive) though, and pestered him for more details. “’Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ is the direct quote.” All three of them grimaced, yet Beckendorf persisted.
“Hey, we don’t know. She might just need a day to cool off.” Luke thought back to the bruise you’d left on his foot earlier in the day.
“Maybe two.”
The Aphrodite kids were all in archery except you, who’d claimed to be sick to get out of it. So, Silena was on her own and vulnerable to Ethan approaching.
“Hey there, Cupid.” He popped up behind her, not noticing the grimace creeping onto Silena’s face.
“Hi, Ethan.” She refused to look at him, focusing instead on aiming her arrow.
“I want to talk about the end of summer dance.” Silena rolled her eyes as the rest of her siblings pretended to mind their own business despite their innate need to know what was going on.
“Look, you know the deal. I can’t go if my sister doesn’t.” The end of summer dance was exactly what it sounded like; a big party for all the kids at camp to celebrate the three months they’d spent together and send off the kids who weren’t staying all year round. Though the actual dance was supervised, it was a well known secret that all of the older campers stayed out through the night drinking and dancing, and most of the folk around camp turned a blind eye for the night. Usually, your dad would pick you up just before the party started, which would inevitably result in a fight between you and Silena. Now though, Silena wasn’t quite so against leaving early, wanting out of the boy drama she’d found herself in.
“Your sister is going,” Ethan said, puffing out his chest as if it made him look more manly. Silena’s surprise was genuine.
“Since when?”
“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it,” Was all Ethan said before walking away, confident swagger in his step as he passed in front of your siblings, and Silena wondered how many of them were holding back the urge to let go of their arrow as he crossed them.
Still, Ethan had to make good on his word, so he found himself approaching Luke again. Rummaging around in his pockets, Ethan presented him with 200 dollars in cash. Luke raised an eyebrow, not bothering with words.
“This should take care of everything for the dance. I’m sure you don’t own anything presentable so this is for a new outfit, flowers for her, whatever. As long as she comes to the dance.” Luke stared at him, and was disgusted at what he was feeling. He might’ve been growing a conscience, something that would be greatly inconvenient for his life as the scary, unsociable older guy at camp.
“I’m sick of your game,” He said finally, pushing the cash back towards Ethan, who frowned. Luke got the distinct feeling he’d never been told no before — except by you, of course. Ethan exaggerated a huff and reached back into his pocket, pulling out one more hundred dollar bill. Luke faltered. He was sick of hurting you, but three hundred dollars was a lot of money. And without any way of making income as a year-rounder it was only more attractive. So Luke swallowed his pride and his morals and took the money. Though, getting you to ever consider going out with him again was basically a hopeless case.
So Luke began his new quest of getting you to speak to him again. He’d shown up to the Lava Wall full of audacity and enthusiasm, and waited patiently in line as you helped the other kids, pretending you couldn’t see him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to leave — or have his turn on the climbing wall — until you acknowledged him, you rolled your eyes aggressively.
“What are you doing here?” You snapped, gesturing for the Athena kid standing behind Luke to have her turn.
“I want to improve my time,” He smiled, and you could tell he thought he was being cute. You only partly secretly agreed.
“You’re so…” You trailed off, unable to find a word appropriate for your audience of children.
“Charming?” He asked, and there was that smile again. “Wholesome?”
“Unwelcome,” You settled on, turning back to your duties.
“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” You froze for a second, then told the kid waiting to start to hold on until you could get rid of him.
“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.”
“Ohh, someone still has their panties in a twist!”
“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” You scoffed, subconsciously adjusting your denim shorts.
“Then what did I have an effect on?” Despite the two of you clearly arguing, there was a surprisingly vulnerable look in his eyes. You ignored it.
“Other than my upchuck reflex? Nothing.” You turned on your heel, making it clear the conversation was over.
You were absent from that night’s campfire, which Luke was grateful for since Percy and Beckendorf had much to say about the plan, none good.
“So she’s still majorly pissed,” Percy started and Luke snorted.
“Yeah, got that, genius.”
“Well the question is, how do you stop a girl from being mad?” Beckendorf asked, and Luke could only cringe at how they sounded. With the way the three of them were talking, any passerby would surely think they were three prepubescent virgins. From next to them, Annabeth sighed harshly.
“Look, Luke. You embarrassed her, her ego’s taken a hit. Devastating for any girl, especially damaging for a daughter of Aphrodite. You need to get on her level; even the score and embarrass yourself for her.” The boys sat back, stunned. One by one they processed the instructions, nodding slowly. Thank the Gods for Annabeth Chase was the only thing Luke could think.
With much planning and a little bit of outside involvement (Luke swapped some of his chores with Clarisse’s to get her to agree), the plan was set in motion.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can make fun of the little kids singing Disney songs?” Clarisse lay on your bed as you cleaned your bunk area and you looked at her skeptically.
“Why tonight? We never go to the sing alongs.”
“Dunno,” She shrugged, “Something to do. Plus, summer’s almost over and soon we won’t get to spend any time together.” You grinned, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.
“Aw,” You cooed, “I knew you liked me deep down.” Clarisse swatted your hand away but smiled nonetheless, and the two of you stayed huddled up on your bunk gossiping until dinner.
Swayed by Clarisse’s begging, the two of you ended up at the sing along, much too close to the front for your liking. You struggled through the karaoke songs, only staying to commentate to Clarisse. You’d heard one too many awful renditions of classic childhood pop songs when the amphitheatre went quiet, no one knowing who was meant to be leading the next song.
“You’re just too good to be true,” The voice rang out into the night, unaccompanied voice making you gasp immediately in recognition. This was your favourite song, but hardly anyone knew that. It was the song you used to dance to with your dad when you were a kid, before you even knew you were a demigod.
“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” People were murmuring now, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and who it belonged to — no one who’d sung before for sure.
“You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” You gasped again as you saw the figure emerge from the darkness. Luke Castellan was singing at the camp sing along. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as he continued to sing a cappella, coming into the light of the stage. He seemed to be searching for something though, eyes roving over the audience.
“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” His eyes locked with yours; he found what he was looking for. Before you could dwell on the incredibly cheesy act, music swelled to life, the Apollo musicians seemingly having learnt the piece beforehand. You wondered how much planning went into this. Your joy only increased as Luke began to dance; dorky, outdated moves that made you laugh out loud — a sound so unfamiliar that a few campers had to look back to check it was really you. You laughed and clapped along with everyone else, thoroughly enjoying Luke embarrassing himself in front of the whole camp.
The performance had to end at some point though, and you found yourself rising out of your seat to give a standing ovation, whooping and cheering along with everyone else. By chance you caught a glance of Clarisse’s face to see her already watching you, a satisfied look evident on her face. You were confused for a second before a memory struck you — a late night on the roof trading drunk secrets and stories where you told her about your childhood connection to Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. You were floored, and also kind of flattered. You knew it would have taken a lot for Luke to go to Clarisse for help — she was scary when she was pissed, and she was definitely pissed at Luke after the party.
You felt that little ball of light start to flicker in your chest again, and you were scared. But more than that you were excited. Despite everything else about you, you were a daughter of Aphrodite and a teenage girl, and the most romantic thing to ever happen at camp just happened to you. You guessed Luke had probably grovelled enough, and you would’ve told him that immediately if he hadn’t been swarmed by campers congratulating or laughing at him. Deciding you couldn’t put yourself in the middle of that crowd, you settled on telling him in the morning.
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