#enemies to lovers type stuff between these two...

[dandeelioncomic]

Awesome little DANDEELION skit I made This is a pretty good demonstration of Claymore and Daffodile's relationship...

Additionally, I tried something different by drawing this all out traditionally and editing digitally, so ye! 'Was pretty fun uvu

[wooyoungiewritings]

Red Dress - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: It's time for the annual trip to the mountains to celebrate Christmas with the Parks. That including the human version of a headache, their son - Park Seonghwa. You've never gotten along, you'd even go so far to call him your worst enemy. But something happens on the trip, something neither of you can explain. It leads both you and Seonghwa into unknown territories, but one thing is for sure. It's all thanks to the red dress.

Word count: 20.6K

Genre: Fluff (!!) enemies to lovers, smut (yall.. seonghwa in this one... WOOOH it's getting hot in here)

warnings: "Enemy" Seonghwa with fem reader (fem pronouns). Hwa's mother has passed away, calls reader "sunshine", Seonghwa is a tease and he loves it, Hwa is a D-O-M, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, aftercare (he's so sweet please), lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

You zip your last bag, trying to gather some kind of overview. Your main luggage bags and two smaller bags filled to the brim. You made sure to pack thoroughly. It would be dreadful to forget something important while staying in the mountains, with the possibility of being snowed in.

A quick buzzing sound came from your phone, your hands grabbing it from your back pocket. You don’t even realize the deep sigh escaping between your lips as you read the name on the screen, somehow you hear the annoyance in the simple text.

Seonghwa i’m here

You type back, wanting him to elaborate.

You at the main entrance?

Seonghwa no i’m on top of the building i just landed my helicopter

yes i’m at the main entrance

You 2 minutes

You roll your eyes as you throw your phone on the bed, looking around your apartment for the last few things to pack. The next few hours are gonna be horrific, being squeezed in your car with the human version of a headache. 

Park Seonghwa.

Despite the two of you not being able to get along, your families do, and they use every possible opportunity to do things together. The annual cottage trip to the mountains for Christmas is no exception. His dad and his sister are all very nice people, watching over you like your own family. His mom was also the kindest woman you’ve ever known, but she sadly passed away six years ago due to sickness. When you were kids, everyone got along just fine. Not the best, because you still thought Seonghwa was teasing you a lot, but it was still manageable. But after his mom’s passing, your relationship with Seonghwa got even worse. 

You never spoke to him about her, because you were simply not that close, but that just resulted in you and him not getting along at all. He got more snarky, which resulted in you getting more snarky.. And now whenever you two spoke, it was always with a hint of teasing and/or mockering. 

You jug to the door as a knock echoes through your apartment, and you open up to see Seonghwa looking unsatisfied on the other side. You can already hear him complain about having to walk up a few sets of stairs, so you turn around before he opens his mouth.

“I’ll be ready in a second.” You say as you walk away, hearing him close the front door as he enters your apartment. 

“Take your time, it’s not like we’re the only ones who aren’t there yet.” Seonghwa mumbles sarcastically, loud enough for you to hear and you bite your tongue before something slips out.

You try your best to carry most of your bags to the front door where Seonghwa is waiting, arms crossed over his chest. He’s still wearing his boots and bomber jacket, not showing any signs that he’s willing to help you carry your stuff. His hair is annoyingly perfectly set, despite it being 7 in the morning like he had all the time in the world to get dressed.

“You know we’ll only be gone for two weeks, not a year, right?” He asks as you put down the bags on the floor in front of him. 

“Seonghwa, it’s 7 in the morning. Can you at least wait until the sun is up to be a pain in my ass? How are you awake right now?” You can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth when you glance at him. 

“I’m an insomniac, this is normal.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You’re not in the mood to continue the conversation so you go back for the last bag, carry it to the front door and Seonghwa (thankfully) helps you carry the bags down the stairs and to your car. His luggage is waiting in the lobby, he probably didn't want to carry it to your floor after traveling with it to your apartment building. 

Both of your families left for the cottage yesterday, but you and Seonghwa had to wait a day to travel because of busy schedules, and at the end of the day, it was just easier to travel together. You and Seonghwa agreed to take your car to the cottage, so you walk outside where your car is parked, and Seonghwa lunges your bags into the trunk.

“Holy shit, what did you put in this bag? A dead body?” He complains and you throw in your bags in the backseat. You open the door to the driver's seat, but look back at him as he loads the trunk.

“If we’re gonna make it through this trip, you have to stop being ironic in every sentence.” You get in the car and turn it on, hurrying to heat up the vehicle. Fog leaves your mouth as you speak, and you rub your hands to create some warmth.

“Fine,” Seonghwa simply answers before closing the trunk and making his way to the driver's seat where you are sitting. “Get out.” He looks down at you with the unreadable expression he always wears, and you scoff.

“Out? It’s my car?” You state, almost like a question. 

“Yes, but I’m driving.”

“Give me one good reason”

“Well, it’s 7 in the morning and you’re not a morning person, your road rage gets 50 times worse in the morning, especially when the roads are slippery. So you should take this as me doing you a favor. Now move.” Seonghwa cocks his head towards the passenger seat, confidently standing in the door to the driver’s seat, leaning up against the car. His face is hard to read, but every word he spoke had a truth behind it. Despite you and him not getting along, you’ve grown up close together, resulting in you knowing almost everything about each other.

A deep sigh leaves you as you step out of the car, not wanting to admit how he’s right.

“You have a lot of nerve talking like you’re the one owning this car.” You say as you enter the passenger seat, getting comfortable. 

“I just want you to be my passenger princess, is that too much to ask?” Seonghwa sends you a smirk before driving the car away from your apartment complex, and you’re headed to the cottage where both of your families are waiting for your arrival. 

A couple moments in silence pass, and the city starts to wake up as the sun brightens up your surroundings. Generic Christmas music plays on the car radio, a channel that has played ‘Last Christmas’ and ‘All I Want For Christmas’ nonstop since the middle of November. 

“Is your sister coming?” You ask, looking out of the window to your side. 

“Not this year. Her boyfriend offered her to celebrate Christmas with his family.” Seonghwa’s focus stays on the road as he answers.

Seonghwa’s sister is two years older than him, but you and her have always gotten along well. One of your fondest memories with her was when you were kids and forced Seonghwa into their mother’s clothes, and you and his sister used him as a canvas to test your makeup skills. That was the time when everything was fun and everyone got (somewhat) along. 

Not like now.

“Have you gotten better at skiing or do we get that atrocious fall again?” His voice has a tease to it as he glances over at you beside him. 

“It was a year ago, and it wasn't my fault.. I’ve gotten better.” You sound confident as you look over at Seonghwa who has an eyebrow raised suspectfully. On your last trip to the cottage with the Parks, you fell while skiing, which resulted in you being unable to walk for the rest of the trip. You promised yourself to never let that happen again.

“Oh yeah? You’ve been practicing?” He has a smug smile on his lips as he talks. 

“I’m better than you, we both know that.” A smile creeps up on your lips, doing your best to annoy him. A scoff leaves Seonghwa before he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and you know you said the right thing.

“That almost sounds like a bet.” He says.

“And what if it is?” You ask daringly, up for a challenge. 

Yes, you and Seonghwa knew how to bicker, but what could make you both excited was a competition. Anything from board games to extreme sports, you love competing with each other. Or hate it. Love to hate it.

Seonghwa smiles with his annoyingly straight teeth, looking over at you for a second to see if you’re serious, before nodding. “Then I hope you’re okay with losing,” He answers confidently. “What’s the challenge?”

“Who gets down the slope first. Easy.” You shrug.

“What color are we talking?”

“Black, of course.” You try to read his expression, challenging him to ride the most dangerous hill on the mountain. 

“Black? You remember the black slope on the mountain, don’t you? You wanna race down from that?” There’s something unsure about his voice, but it only makes you want to continue going through with this bet.

“Are you scared?” You tease, looking at him with a smile. Knowing Seonghwa your entire life, you know exactly what buttons to press to get your way, and when a confident chuckle leaves his body, you know this bet is on.

“Alright, sunshine, let’s do this.” He smirks, looking at you briefly.

“Anything you wanna bet?” You ask, trying to hide your excitement that he fell into your trap and agreed to this.

Seonghwa takes a few seconds to think, tapping the steering wheel before he speaks. “The loser will do what the winner says for an entire day.” He suggests. 

Somehow you expected this penalty, so you roll your eyes as a scoff leaves you. “Boring, but fine,” You say before looking over at him. “I can’t wait to make you my little puppy.” A huge smile decorates your lips at the thought of Seonghwa in the palm of your hand for 24 hours.

He has a big smile on his lips as he leans back in the driver's seat, getting comfortable. 

“Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. I already have some things in store for you.” He doesn’t even look at you while talking, but he’s wearing his confident smirk as he speaks like he’s imagining what he’ll make you do if he wins. 

You can’t wait to remove that cocky smile.

***

After a few hours of driving, you finally arrived at the cottage. There had been a delay due to some accidents on the road. The further you made it to the mountains, the slippier the roads got, resulting in a few accidents. Luckily, there were no big accidents, and you and Seonghwa made it safely to the cottage.

Your family greeted you, as well as Seonghwa’s dad.

As you mom helps you take off your jacket, she sends you the warmest smile and tells you that your room is on the first floor, which you will be sharing with Seonghwa.

“Thanks, mom.” You send her a smile back and look around the cottage. It looks the same as always. The fireplace is heating up the entire living room, and Christmas stockings for each person hanging over it, including Seonghwa’s sister and mom. There’s a smell of cinnamon hanging in the air as you grab your stuff and head upstairs to unpack. The long hallway with three doors leads you to your room, and you know your room is at the end of the hallway. You pass the closed door to Seonghwa’s room and a bathroom, already excited to have a shower in the huge shower stall. 

As you step into your room, you notice that it has the same warm tones as the rest of the house, giving off a cozy feeling. The room is furnished with a massive bed, and at the end of the room, there is a large window that provides a breathtaking view of the mountains. On the bedside table, there is a lit-up candle, adding to the room's warm and inviting atmosphere.

You throw yourself on the bed, happy to finally be at the cottage. 

This is gonna be a good trip.. hopefully

***

“Last chance to back down, sunshine.” Seonghwa looks at the slope in front of him before looking at you. A confident smile spreads on your lips, knowing you’ll win this one.

“Over my dead body, Seonghwa. I’m so excited to have you wrapped around my finger for a day.” 

It was your first official day at the cottage, and of course you and Seonghwa had to settle your little bet, trying to figure out who was best down the mountain.

“You’re a lot of talk, no bite. Let’s see how your mouth runs when you’re going to be my servant for an entire day.” He sends you a smirk. Your eyes roll back, used to these comments.

“You always claim to be a gentleman. Is this how you normally speak to girls? No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“They wouldn’t be able to handle me. Only you can.” The smirk is still evident on his lips. “Besides, I am a gentleman. In fact, I’ll even let you get 10 seconds as a head start.”

You try to read his face to see if he’s kidding, but when it looks like he means what he says, you scoff. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“I never regret anything when it comes to you.”

You both stare into each other’s eyes for a long second, and this only make you more excited. You love winning. Even better when you win over him. 

“I’ll see you down there.” You send him one last smile before making your way down the mountain. You use your poles to help increase the speed, using every opportunity to get down the mountain first. 

10 seconds isn’t a lot, but if you use them well, this win would be even easier. Wind rushes in your ears, snow flying as you go side to side down the slope. You don’t look back, not wanting to focus on Seonghwa behind you, so you stay in your own head, doing your best to come down as fast as possible. 

You feel your legs burn in the best way, having missed this feeling.

The feeling of being free and no one telling you to stop. The wind blows faster as you move quicker down the slope, following the trail. Suddenly, you see a figure, and lo and behold, Seonghwa is next to you. You can’t see his face due to his helmet, but you bet he's sending you a smile behind the glass. He sends you a wave before he passes you on his snowboard, and suddenly he’s in the front. 

Your poles help you increase the speed even more, and you bend your knees to go even faster. Further down, you start to see the finish, and despite being behind Seonghwa, you still have a chance. He moves quick and even manages to be slightly daring on the way down, but you can take him.

You’re sure of it.

Well, that’s until a kid suddenly falls in front of you, and you quickly have to make your way around them. You make a turn, a little too sharp, and pass the kid lying in the snow. The last thing you see is Seonghwa reaching the bottom of the slope before you fall forward and roll a few meters in the snow. Confused, you lay still for a few moments, trying to gather what just happened. All you see is white from the snow until a figure comes into sight.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa’s concerned voice suddenly speaks, and you look up to see him hurry to you. You try to move, realizing you’ve somehow lost both of your skis in your fall.

“I’m fine, ow.” A sharp pain shocks through your leg, starting from your ankle. The pain is enough to suddenly send a stinging feeling in your eyes, tears slowly forming. 

“Is this how you make me feel bad for winning?” Seonghwa tries to help you up from the snow, grabbing you under your arms.

“It doesn’t count, I fell. We should try again to see- OW!” 

Another sharp pain shocks you, even worse than before, and you give up trying to get up this way. You sit up, no visible injuries, only the pain in your ankle. 

“Can you stand up?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Get on my back.” Seonghwa moves in front of you, kneeling down so you can jump on his back. You shake your head, not wanting to admit how bad your ankle hurts.

“No, it’s fine.” You try to stand up, but wince when the pain only gets worse.

“Can you stop being stubborn and let me help you? Get on my back.” His voice is serious, and it’s clear you won’t get it your way. You do your best to get on his back without putting too much pressure on your leg, and he stands up with you. He holds you under your knees while your arms hold around his neck. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah..”

He manages to get you to a bench, and after a few moments of him checking up on you, looking for any visible damages, it’s clear that the pain in your ankle is getting worse. You (or more like Seonghwa) make the decision not to ski anymore, so he ends up carrying you to the cottage. 

You feel grateful on Seonghwa’s behalf that it’s close to the ski resort so he won’t have to carry you too far. Both of you still in your ski clothing, you know everything is heavier than normal. 

And despite you telling him that it’s fine and that you can call for someone else to help you, he acts like he doesn’t hear you and continues to carry you home. 

Not a word is said between you, he makes his way inside the cottage with you on his back. He helps you out of your jacket and ski pants, so you’re left with your long-sleeved shirt and leggings. He quickly takes off his own ski clothing before suddenly carrying you bridal style, making his way to the stairs. 

Your arm encircles his neck as he carefully walks up the stairs, ensuring your foot doesn't touch anything.

“You don’t have to do this.” You almost whisper.

“I know.” He responds, seeing the door to your room. He walks in and puts you on the bed softly. You wince when you move your ankle, and Seonghwa notices immediately. “Where does it hurt?”

“My ankle, and down to the heel.” You point exactly where it hurts, and he looks at your foot before grabbing his phone from his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” Is the only thing he says before he makes his way out of your room and you hear him walk down the stairs. You have no idea what he’s doing or what you’re waiting for. You just use this moment to be thankful that you didn’t get hurt anywhere else.

After a few minutes, you hear Seonghwa’s voice get closer as he makes his way up the stairs. You hear him talking on the phone.

“Yes.. Alright. No, it looks a little swollen. Okay, thank you.” He appears at your door with some ice in a towel and walks closer to your bed. He sits down by your legs and places the ice on your ankle. “Here, keep this on for 15 minutes and then off for 15 minutes. Then repeat as much as possible.” 

“Who’d you talk to?” You ask.

“I called the local doctor. If it gets worse you have to do a checkup, but for now, you just have to rest. Try not to walk on your foot, so call for me if you need anything.” He looks at you briefly before standing up. You’ve never seen this side of Seonghwa before, and having him take care of you like this, is making you feel something strange in your stomach. 

You look up at him from the bed, not knowing what to say. “Thank you.” You barely whisper.

He sends you a quick and awkward smile before he turns around and walks out of your room. He closes the door behind him, and you realize you’re stuck in bed after a fall, just like last year. You sigh, annoyed that this happened, but there isn’t much you can do about it. 

Laying in your bed, you suddenly feel your eyes getting heavier. It isn’t like you have anywhere else to go, so you use this opportunity to close your eyes and take a nap. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you allow yourself to sleep until you wake up.

***

It’s still bright outside when your eyes open, but when you look at the clock on your nightstand, you realize that you’ve been sleeping for a few hours. You don’t hear a sound from the rest of the house, and you wonder if Seonghwa left or if he’s asleep as well.

There’s still a sharp pain in your ankle, the ice has melted a bit. You sigh and look around the room. There isn't much to do when you’re stuck here. But the dryness in your mouth tempts you to leave your bed and get something to drink.

You know Seonghwa said to call for him if you needed anything, but a quick run to the kitchen couldn’t cause any more damage to your ankle, right? Besides, maybe he’s sleeping, and you don’t want to wake him up.

You manage to get out of bed, limping down the silent hallway. Thankful for the staircase, it helps you take it slow and hold you as you make your way down the stairs. It does hurt when you put pressure on it, but not as much as the fall last year. 

Finally, you make your way to the kitchen. It’s a little cold down here, so you want to prepare something hot. Drinking hot drinks after skiing reminds you of when you were younger. The feeling of the warmth running through your body and-

“What part of ‘call me if you need anything’ didn’t you understand?” Seonghwa’s voice makes you jump and you look behind you to see him enter the kitchen.

“I was just getting something to drink.” You mumble, standing by the cabinet to get a mug.

“You can’t walk on your foot.” He sounds like an annoyed dad as he finds a stool and places it by the kitchen island. He cocks his head towards the stool and you sit down on it. He’s showing a very bossy side of himself, and you’re not sure how to respond to it.

“I made it down here, didn’t I?” You mumble mostly to yourself, but he hears and sighs deeply.

“It’s not gonna heal if you walk,” He makes his way to the fridge and looks inside. “What do you want?”

“Hot cocoa.”

He looks back at you. “You couldn’t have said water?” His brow shoots up, looking slightly annoyed, but you shake your head.

“You asked what I want and I want hot cocoa.” Your voice is talking at a low volume, and you’re sure that if you were a dog, your ears would be hanging low and your tail would be between your legs. Seonghwa takes a second to think for himself, watching you before another sigh leaves him. 

“I guess I’m making you hot cocoa then.” He tilts his head to the side before grabbing a mug and finding the ingredients to make you some hot cocoa. You don’t say much as he prepares it, enjoying seeing him do something like this for you. 

“I thought since I lost our bet that I was being your servant for the day.” You tease, trying to fill the heavy air with some conversation.

“Well, that was before you decided to fall and make yourself useless,” He looks back at you and sends you a teasing smirk. “Besides, I’ll just save it for another day. Don’t think I’ll forget, sunshine.” 

You can't help but smile at his teasing. Usually, you want to rip his hair out, but right now, you're actually enjoying being in the same room as him.

He’s making your hot cocoa, and you feel slightly useless, sitting and staring at him. The couch is in your sight, so you step down from the stool, but as soon as your (healthy) foot touches the floor, Seonghwa’s eyes are on you. He stares at you as you freeze, scared you’ve done something wrong.

“What?” You ask. 

“Where are you going?” He’s quick to ask back.

“To the.. couch, if that’s okay with you?” 

Seonghwa doesn’t waste a second, dropping the tablespoon on the counter, taking you up bridal style again, and walking towards the couch.

“Seonghwa, you don’t have to do this,” You know saying it won’t make him stop. He’s as stubborn as you. He carefully puts you down on the couch, raising your leg so it rests on the extended part of the couch before he runs back to the kitchen. He appears a few seconds later with your hot cocoa in hand and places it on the table in front of you. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?” He asks, standing up in front of you. You look behind him at the TV, your eyes catching the remote lying on top of a shelf behind him.

“The remote..” You point.

He hands you the remote. “Alright.. If I see you walking by yourself again I’ll chain you to the couch, understood?” He looks you deep in the eyes, and for some reason, you almost think he’s serious. 

“Yes, sir.” You say teasingly, and he scoffs at you before disappearing again with a smile. 

A smile that looks dangerously good.

***

Every year you go out to have dinner at the fancy restaurant in the city close to the cottage. But due to your little stunt on the mountain yesterday, you all had to go for dinner today, as you couldn’t possibly use your foot. But it’s already getting better, and it isn’t as swollen as yesterday, so you felt even more ready for a nice evening out.

Maybe all the carrying from Seonghwa did help after all.

It’s also a fun excuse to dress up for a night and eat delicious food, so you remembered to pack the fancy dress you bought for this special occasion. A maroon-colored dress with a bare back, dropped shoulders and it hugs your body perfectly, ending on the middle of your thighs. You look in the mirror one last time before making your way downstairs to the others. It’s fun to see your parents in their fancy attire, looking like they just fell in love with each other again. 

You smile to yourself as you look around and immediately notice a set of eyes staring you down.

Seonghwa is leaning against the back of one of the couches, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt as his gaze falls on you. You can't help but smirk in response. His eyes meet yours, and you can't resist glancing down at his attire.

He is in his black blazer with black pants, but instead of a regular button-down underneath, he is wearing something a runway model would wear. A white silk shirt with ruffles and lace is showing under his jacket, and no part of you is surprised by his choice of clothes. Whenever he can wear something a little different, he will, and he always pulls it off. 

Is he the biggest pain in the ass? Absolutely. 

Is he also very attractive? Oh, absolutely.

It’s actually irritating how beautiful this man is, but no way in hell you would ever tell him that. He knows he looks good, no need to boost his ego.

You decide to look away from him before you make yourself too obvious, as you get the sense that it’s time to leave soon. You decide to wait outside by the door as you’re waiting for the two families to leave. Suddenly, a presence is standing next to you, but you don’t need to look to see who joined you.

“Like what you’re seeing?” You ask teasingly, not even sparing him a glance.

“You look like my dream girl.” Seonghwa says confidently as he steps in front of you, looking down into your eyes.

His tall frame takes up most of the space in your sight, and you look up to meet his dark eyes. For some unknown reason you feel your heart beating faster, and it only increases when he puts some hair behind your ear.

“Really?” You manage to get out.

“I never said what kind of dream,” he says, slowly leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You’re my fucking nightmare.”

Seonghwa leans back to send you a wink along with a smirk before turning around to walk away and enter one of the cars waiting outside, leaving you behind, baffled. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous he is, mentally cursing yourself for showing a slight reaction to his words. You brush off the feeling inside you and you enter another car waiting outside to take you to the restaurant in the city. 

You all drive for a few minutes, each family in each car, before entering the city with Christmas lights hanging everywhere. The restaurant is also decorated outside with lights, a group of Christmas carols singing on the other side of the street. 

It’s not like you’re from a rich family that goes to expensive restaurants a lot, but this was a tradition you’ve always shared with the Parks, so you would of course do it again this year. 

A male waiter follows you to your table, and you notice it’s a rather busy night, not seeing a single empty table. Christmas lights are decorating the ceiling, as well as generic Christmas instrumentals fill the air. A table for five comes into view with lit-up candles, and you find your way to the end. Your parents are busy talking with Seonghwa’s dad, laughing at something that happened before you arrived earlier today, leaving you in your own world. The waiter hands out a menu for you, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on you for a few seconds, his dimples showing when you make eye contact. You can’t help but smile back at his warm eyes, feeling the heat in your cheeks. He disappears again after having handed out the menus to the rest of the table, and you look across the table by chance and notice how Seonghwa’s eyes are staring at you. 

Something you can’t read is evident in his gaze, but you choose to quickly shoot your eyes to the menu. For some unknown reason, Seonghwa is making looking at him harder than usual, and you can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. 

A few moments pass, and the waiter comes back to take everyone's orders. He saves you for last, sending you a warm smile.

“And what can I get for you, miss?” His dimples even show when he’s talking. 

“I’m torn between the smoked salmon and the scallops.. Do you have a recommendation?” You send him a smile.

“Ohh, that’s a tough one.. Personally, I would be in for salmon, so that would be my choice. But that depends on you, of course.” He smirks, trying to continue the casual talk between you. You’re too lost in your conversation with him, figuring out what to eat, to realize the piercing eyes across from you. Seonghwa’s eyes shoot between you and the waiter, for some reason feeling annoyed with him. 

You end up choosing the smoked salmon, and handing him back the menu. A wink is sent in your direction before he makes his way to the kitchen. Casual talk then spreads across the table. Mr. Park looks in your direction, wanting to hear how you’ve been doing since the last time you spoke.

“I’ve been doing very well, Mr. Park, thank you for asking.” You respond to the kind man across the table.

“That’s good! And you’re still enjoying your job?” 

"Definitely. It is a bit far away though, so my car is very necessary. But it is having a hard time driving, especially in the winter months, so I’m considering saving up for a new car or finding a job a bit closer.” You answer, your parents adding to the conversation and carrying it on. 

“Maybe you should ask the waiter what he thinks you should do.” Seonghwa says across from you, low enough not to cause any attention to him from the rest of the table, but you hear him loud and clear. 

Your eyes glare at him, but he only responds with an annoying smile. You roll your eyes, trying to focus on the conversation between your parents. 

A few moments later your food arrives, and the salmon is placed in front of you. You all start eating, and you do your best to ignore the eyes looking at you from time to time across the table. 

Giving him attention will only make it worse, you think.

“How are you enjoying the salmon, miss?” A voice speaks behind you, and you look up to see the waiter sending you another smile. Cheeks heating up again, you do your best to answer confidently. 

“It’s really good, definitely the right decision.” 

“I’m glad, personally it’s my favorite item on the menu.” He tells you.

“I totally understand why, the greens on the side really complement it as well.” You add to the conversation. The kind waiter is about to answer when a voice interrupts.

“Waiter?” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through, stealing your attention. “I ordered my steak to be medium-well, this steak is cooked medium-rare.” He points at his food, eying the waiter.

An apologetic expression spreads on the waiter's face. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take it back to the kitchen for you.” He sends Seonghwa the best smile he can manage, before disappearing into the kitchen with Seonghwa’s food.

“Why did you do that?” Your eyes are locked on Seonghwa, trying to speak in a low voice so you won’t draw attention.

“I just want what I ordered.” Seonghwa shrugs before bringing his wine glass to his lips. 

“There’s no need to be an ass about it.” 

A smirk tugs on Seonghwa’s lips. “Aww, I’m sorry.. Am I making it hard for your boyfriend?”

“What is wrong with you?”

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Would it kill you to see me be just a little happy?"

A scoff leaves his mouth. “Welcome to the real world. Maybe you’ll notice how everything isn’t perfect, sunshine.”

You want to reach across the table and rip that annoying smile off his face. Everything inside of you is boiling, even looking at him is making you feel insane. It takes everything in you not to say something rude because you’re all adults here (even if some aren't acting like it) and you want this trip to have good memories. 

You grab your wine glass and gulp down the last bit before heading to the bathrooms. 5 minutes away from Seonghwa would be enough not to scream at him. 

Luckily it isn’t filled with people in the bathroom, letting you get some time to breathe for yourself. 

You knew Seonghwa had gone through a hard time the last few years since his mom died, so you somehow always had an apology for him in your head, why he was acting like he was. But he was going personal tonight, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t an excuse to be an asshole. 

You saw the rage in your eyes as you looked at yourself, but suddenly, your attention was stolen by the door opening to the bathroom. Seonghwa’s large frame entered the room, your eyes rolling at the sight of him.

“Did I say something to trigger you?” He spoke in a low voice.

“You do that all the time, Seonghwa. Don’t act like this is any different.” You didn’t spare him a glance as you spoke, keeping your eyes on yourself in the mirror.

“You haven’t walked away like that since I said your hair looked as fried as a burnt fry at McDonald's.” He calls back to a moment a few years ago when you were also fed up with his teasing. It wasn’t even that deep of a comment, you were just not feeling it that day.

“I guess I’m not in the mood for this right now.” You respond with a lower voice. Through the mirror, you look to see if any of the stalls are taken and if anyone is listening to your conversation. It doesn’t look like it. “Also, you’re in the women's bathroom. You can’t be here.”

“Well, I upset you and wanted to talk it out.”

A part of you wants to laugh. Never have those words left his mouth.

“How mature of you.”

“I’m sorry.” His footsteps are coming closer to you, and suddenly you see him in the mirror behind you. He actually sounds like he’s apologizing, and not saying this mockingly. It catches you off guard for a few seconds, but you make eye contact with him through the mirror. He’s watching you carefully like he’s afraid to say something else to upset you.

“Didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You want to joke, but the air between you is too heavy.

“Maybe you’ll learn some new things about me on this trip.” He says with his hands resting in the front pockets of his pants. 

“Maybe.” You shrug, finally turning around towards him. “If anything, you should apologize to the waiter.” You can’t help but feel sorry for the waiter, having to run around because of Seonghwa.

“I don’t care about the waiter.” His voice is cold.

“And you care about me?” You say with a laugh, expecting him to say ‘no’ immediately, but when silence surrounds the two of you, you suddenly don’t know what to say. His eyes are just watching you, studying your face and it makes you feel a certain way you haven’t felt before. A feeling you can't pinpoint what is. 

“You know what this dress needs?” He suddenly says, completely changing the subject.

“What?”

“A necklace.” He looks down on your bare neck. 

You know this dress calls for a necklace, and you mentally cursed at yourself when you realized you had left your bag of jewelry on your desk. Luckily, that is the only thing you’ve forgotten (hopefully).

“I forgot all of my jewelry at home.” You shrug.

His eyes focus on your neck for a short moment before he reaches behind his own neck. Suddenly, a necklace you didn’t know he was wearing came into sight and he held it out in front of him. A silver necklace with white pearl pendants.

“Turn around.”

You shake your head. “I’m not wearing your-”

“Turn around.” He says more firmly, and you do as he says. Your eyes focus on your neck as he places the necklace on you, and you immediately notice how well it compliments your dress. Seonghwa’s warm fingers lightly touch the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This feels incredibly intimate, especially because you notice the way his eyes roam over you.

“It was my mothers.” Seonghwa says in almost a whisper, eyes still locked on your neck through the mirror. Your breath hitches, suddenly feeling like you shouldn’t be wearing this.

“Seonghwa.. I can’t wear this.” Your fingers touch the pendant. 

“I know she would’ve loved to see you in it.” A small smile tugs on his lips, obviously thinking about his mom. You don’t know what to say. His mom was the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and you do miss her dearly. You can’t even imagine how Seonghwa feels. “She really liked you, you know.” His eyes dart up, meeting yours through the mirror. 

“I liked her too.” You send him a smile, remembering all the good times you've shared with her.

“And I know she would've chopped my hands off if she knew I made you upset. So I’m genuinely sorry.” He looks apologetic, not an ounce of teasing evident in his voice. You’ve never shared a moment like this with him, and if you were close, you would’ve hugged him and told him everything was okay. But you can’t remember the last time you shared affection with him, so you just try your best to send him a smile through the mirror.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper, and he steps closer to you to remove some hair on your shoulder. This makes the necklace more apparent on your neck, and you smile at the view. “It’s beautiful.”

You just now notice how close you are to him, slightly feeling his front against your bare back. He has a perfect height when he stands next to you, and even more when he stands behind you like now. 

His eyes are all over you through the mirror, and the feeling is not something you ever expected to feel so exciting. You can’t help but look back at him, seeing how good his suit looks on him. You stare at the shirt he’s wearing under his jacket, and in this light, you notice that it’s made of sheer fabric, making it slightly see-through. 

You hate how much you’re staring, but you can’t help it. And when he’s staring back at you, the same look in his eyes, you know you’re in too deep.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opens, and a lady stops at the door, looking confused as if she didn't think she entered the right bathroom. Seonghwa looks at her and then back to you through the mirror.

“I better go.” He says above a whisper, looking down at you one last time before heading out of the bathroom. You don’t pay any attention to the lady entering, only focused on what just happened between you and Seonghwa. 

It takes you a moment to get back to your senses, but you eventually get there and head back to your table.

The rest of the dinner went differently. Every time you looked across the table, you'd meet Seonghwa's eyes. You'd both hold the gaze for longer than you'd anticipate, feeling heat in your cheeks before darting your eyes away from him.

You didn’t see much of the waiter for the rest of the night, Seonghwa probably scaring him away from your table. 

When you made it home to the cottage, you all started getting ready for bed. It was getting late, and you were getting tired as well. Coming up from the stairs, you walked towards your room, when suddenly a hand grabbed your wrist. Surprised, you stop your tracks and look to see Seonghwa appear from his room. His eyes met yours in an instant, standing close to you.

“I apologized to the waiter. Happy?” He said with a low voice. He almost sounds defeated, like he lost an important battle, but you can’t help but enjoy it a little bit.

“I didn’t think you cared about him?” You said, finding it new that he’s apologizing.

“I don’t, not in the slightest. Couldn’t care less about what he’s feeling.” He shrugged, and you wanted to roll your eyes before he spoke again. “But I’m trying to do the right thing here. Even if I was just making him do his job, I could’ve been a little nicer. I’ll admit.” He kept the eye contact and the soft grasp around your wrist, making you focus on him.

A smile spreads on your lips. “Should I get used to this? You apologizing? Because I kinda like it.” You tease. He scoffs, looking down at you with the same look in his eyes as earlier. The one where he studies you to the smallest details, somehow making you nervous. 

“A little dangerous starting to like something that has to do with me, don’t you think?” He teases back, a smirk growing on his face. The dimmed light in the hallway makes everything seem slightly more intimate, and with the way you’re feeling when he’s looking at you like this, you know you have to keep your shit together. 

This is Park Seonghwa. 

Yes, he has helped you with your ankle and whatever.

But you’d never be able to actually get along. You’re built to argue with him. Tease, mock, pick on, just like he does with you. The two of you don’t know any better, but somehow, looking at him right now, you can’t do that. You don’t even know what to do, because you’ve never felt this way when looking at him. 

And it’s a brand new territory.

His free hand raises, and you do nothing but wait to see where it lands, when he suddenly traces his finger from your jaw and down to your neck. You feel the necklace move under his touch, suddenly reminded that you’re wearing it. 

“Oh, the necklace.” You put your hands behind your neck to take it off, but Seonghwa shakes his head, taking your hands down. 

“Let me.” He says, and you turn around, collecting your hair to one side. Waiting for him to take it off, you suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you slightly so he has better light. But the feeling of his hands on your waist makes your heart beat faster, leaving burning marks where his fingers touched. His fingers are on your skin as he removes the necklace sends shivers down your spine, and the necklace is gone. 

But Seonghwa notices the way you’re reacting to his touch, smiling to himself as you turn back around to face him. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” You smile.

“Always.” 

With one last look, you decide to go into your room, scared of what could happen if you stayed out there any longer. 

***

You took a deep breath as you sat down on the bench at the end of the ski slope. You took a moment to watch people coming down the mountain on their skis or snowboards while you enjoyed finally being out again.

You had looked forward to this, spending the entire day here. This was one of the main reasons you even visited this cottage every year. To ski and have fun.

What you didn’t expect was the intense pain.

In your ankle? no.

Or a little, but the pain was mostly in your stomach due to your period. 

You didn’t think it would be arriving while being on this trip, but of course, it had to arrive at this time. Therefore, you didn’t have anything prepared, other than a few emergency pads. But the pain you felt was actually the worst, making you have to take a break.

You look up to see a person get close at an awfully fast speed on their snowboard, making you think they’ll crash into you but they stop right in front of you, making snow splash everywhere. You don’t have to think twice to recognize Seonghwa’s attire in front of you.

“Asshole.” You mumble as Seonghwa takes off his helmet, smiling at his own little stunt.

“You okay?” He asks, noticing the slight discomfort on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just… my ankle.” You lie. You didn’t feel like sharing with Seonghwa what was really hurting you. And your ankle did hurt a bit, so it wasn’t a complete lie. But it was definitely mostly the pain in your stomach that held you from being on the slopes right now.

“Is it getting worse?” Seonghwa asks, suddenly being back to being your doctor. 

“Yeah.” You respond, not exactly knowing what to say.

“Are you okay, honey?” Your mom suddenly appears in her ski attire, walking over to you and Seonghwa. 

“I’m fine.” You respond shortly.

“It’s her ankle.” Seonghwa says, making you want to throw a snowball in his face. Not only because it wasn’t the entire truth, but also because you know how much your mom is concerned about your ankle. You knew she wasn’t a fan of you being on the slopes already, scared that you might get as hurt as last year.

Your mom looks at you with worry. “Darling, you should take your time to heal.” She walks closer to you. “I don’t think skiing is a good idea..” Your mom doesn't hide the look on her face. You know she’s saying this with pure love, but you don’t know what else to do. This is what you came for. But she didn’t want you to get hurt, not any more than you already are.

“What else can I do?” You ask.

“You can drive to the city?” She sounds optimistic like it’s the funniest thing to do in an area filled with slopes and snow.

“To do what?” 

“I need some new ornaments for the tree. You can drive to the city and pick some for us.” She makes it sound like it’s the best idea ever. And you’ll admit; it was better than staying home while everyone else is out in the snow. 

“Fine..” 

“I’ll come with you.” Seonghwa suddenly adds to the conversation, and you and your mom both look at him.

“Are you sure?” Your mom asks, sounding slightly confused since she knows how you and Seonghwa never spend time together voluntarily. 

“Yeah, I’m getting a little sore from all the snowboarding, I could use a break,” He smiles at your mom. “Besides, with her luck, falling two years in a row, I think it’s a good idea to have someone keep an eye on her.” He smirks in your direction, but you only send back an obvious fake smile. 

Your mom’s face, on the other hand, lights up like a Christmas tree. It’s a tradition for your mom to get a new ornament for the Christmas tree every year, so you know this means more for her than it does for the rest of you. It was a tradition she shared with Seonghwa’s mom, but your mom continued it like she still had her best friend to do it with.

“Amazing! Can’t wait to see what you guys bring back.”

***

The trip to the city went as you’d expect. It wasn’t the best time of your life, but it was nice to finally be outside. You got to see the city in daylight, but it was definitely prettier in the nighttime with all the lights lighting up the sky. 

With Seonghwa’s help, you found seven ornaments - one for each of you. You picked one for yourself and your parents, while Seonghwa picked one for himself, his dad, his sister, and his mom. They were simple, the designs looking like they were supposed to be snowflakes, but they all looked different.

While Seonghwa paid for the ornaments, you looked at other Christmas decorations. There were all kinds of decorations, everything from the most elegant and minimalistic to the downright ugly. 

You stood with an elf in your hands, admiring how cute it was when another wave of pain suddenly hit your lower region. Despite living with it for years, you somehow never get used to it. You winced in pain, trying to keep a straight face when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?” Seonghwa sounded worried, but you just nodded. You put down the elf and put on your best smile.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

As he opens the door for you, he still looks worried. You make your way to your car, and he unlocks it. Just as you grab the handle, you're hit with another wave of pain. You hold yourself on the stomach, slightly leaning forward, hoping to ease the discomfort. You quickly try to ignore the feeling and get into the car.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Seonghwa looks at you from the driver’s seat. “Are you sick? Is it your ankle?” The questions fly out of him like there’s no tomorrow, but you shake your head, not wanting to draw attention.

“No, no.. It’s fine. Just go.” 

“Do you need to pee? Are you hungry? Do you-”

“For the love of all great things, just drive, Seonghwa.” You don’t mean to make it sound rude, but the words left your mouth before you could even think.

Seonghwa responds with a deep sigh, before starting the car. “We need to get gas before we continue on, we’re running out.” 

Silence fills the air as he drives to a gas station not far away from the city. He gets out of the car and starts filling it up with the gas you need. A short moment goes by before he opens the door to reach for his wallet, but you stop him.

“I can pay for the gas.” You say, looking for your wallet in your bag. 

“It’s fine, I’ll pay. Wait here.” His voice is cold and you watch him as he makes his way into the gas station. You sigh to yourself, annoyed that you lash out without thinking, when in fact, Seonghwa was just being nice. He was probably just worried about your foot like he had been ever since you fell. He has never shown this amount of worry for you, so it did surprise you when he took so much care of you and volunteered to drive with you to the city. 

You’re too focused on your thoughts to notice Seonghwa coming back, and entering the car. You look at him but are suddenly surprised when a small white bag is placed on your lap. He turns on the engine and drives away from the gas station. 

Curious and confused, you look in the bag, and you can’t believe what you see. It’s filled with Advils, chocolate bars, juice, water, pads, and a package of menstrual cramp relief heating pads. 

You have no idea how to react. Emotions everywhere, you almost want to cry, but you don’t. You just look at him and stare at his side profile as he focuses on driving your car.

“Thank you..” You say with a low voice.

“You’re welcome.”

Another silence.

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I’ve grown up with a mom and an older sister. I’m very much aware of periods and that people with periods go through pain.” His voice is turning softer as he speaks, not as cold as before. You look into the bag again and grab the heating pads, not sure how to use them.

You’ve used your heating pillow for ages, but of course, forgot to bring it on the trip.

“They heat up and relax the muscles in your lower abdomen so you’ll be in less pain,” Seonghwa explains like he knows how to read your mind. “I’ve heard. I haven’t tried it for myself, for obvious reasons, but my sister always uses these.” His gaze shifts between the heating pads in your hands and the road.

“Thank you..” You say once again. You feel like you’re thanking him a lot on this trip. “And I’m sorry.” You look at him, feeling bad for snapping at him when he just wanted to know if you were okay. His eyes meet yours, and after a few seconds, he sends you a smile.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” 

The annoying smile of his sends a feeling to your stomach again. The same warm, strange feeling you also felt earlier with him this week. Your breath hitches from the feeling, and you shake your head to yourself.

It’s nothing.

Don’t think about it.

***

The day after, you decided to take things a bit slow. You wanted to join the others on the slopes, but your body was simply too worn out. But that didn’t stop you from spending time at the café, located at the bottom of the slope. You decided to bring a book as you sat in the corner, watching people enter from being up on the slopes. They were all in their ski attire, ready to conquer the slopes after getting something to drink. 

The door to the cozy cafe opened and you'd recognize that helmet anywhere. Seonghwa entered by himself, taking the helmet off his head as he walked to the desk to order. You saw his eyes roaming the café, so you decided to focus on your book, deciding to look busy. You only read a few lines before a voice caught your attention.

“Hey, sunshine,” Seonghwa’s voice said, placing his helmet on the other bench at your table. “What are you doing here?”

“Got bored at the cottage.” You shrug.

He took off his big jacket and placed it on one of your seats as well. “Mind if I join you here?” Seonghwa asks as he basically has already taken over half the space at your table.

“No, go ahead.” You answer before he goes back to the desk to order. Your eyes are about to scan the book again when a new voice interrupts.

“Excuse me..” The voice says, and you look up to see a girl around the same age as you. She looks sweet and pretty, and very innocent. “Sorry, but are you dating him?” She asks shyly while pointing at Seonghwa. 

“Uhm, no.” You shake your head, slightly confused.

“Do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

“I don't think so.” You explain, telling her the truth. You have no idea what his dating life is like, but you don't think he is.

“Oh, okay.. I just didn’t want to shoot my shot if you were his girlfriend.” She smiles, before excusing herself again. Your eyes watch as she approaches Seonghwa, but you’re unable to hear what is being said between them. All you see is Seonghwa suddenly darting his eyes at you as the girl is speaking, and you look back into your book. You’re not getting further with your book, because Seonghwa comes back not long after.

“Here.” He says as he places a mug of hot cocoa in front of you. He puts one down for himself as well before sitting down at the table. You don’t recall asking him to get you this, but the fact that he did it was nice.. or whatever.

“Thank you,” Your eyes scan the cocoa, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. “So.. Did you get her number?” You ask, eying him carefully to hear his response.

“What?” He responded like he didn’t just talk to a girl who was clearly interested in him.

“That girl.. She came to me and asked if you were dating anyone and wanted to shoot your shot with you. So?”

He shook his head, grabbing a spoon to scoop some whipped cream from his drink. “I didn’t get her number. I thanked her for the opportunity, but I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why but this makes you slightly confused. Everyone could tell that Seonghwa was a beautiful human being, and it’s not the first time you've seen someone attempt to flirt with him. This makes you realize that you don’t know anything about his relationships, hookups, or people he has crushed on in the past. He had never brought anyone with him as his partner, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one. You’ve just never heard about them.

“Why? You have someone waiting at home?” You ask, feeling weirdly comfortable having this conversation.

“I don’t know, do I?” A smirk tugs on his lips before he brings the spoon with whipped cream to his mouth. Your brows shoot together, feeling confused. 

“How should I know?” You ask as you grab a spoonful of whipped cream as well. 

“I don’t know. But to answer your question; I’m not interested in anyone. As I’ve said before, you’re the only one that can handle me.” The smirk only grows on his face, and you know what he’s doing. 

It wasn’t new for Seonghwa to throw these kinds of comments your way, especially with a smirk evident on his face. He knows sending flirty remarks your way would make you uncomfortable (in the beginning), but you’ve gotten so used to it that you can’t help but laugh. It’s obvious that he only does it to be annoying, but a sarcastic laugh still finds its way out of you.

“Right, could you imagine? Us dating?” You joke.

“Would it be terrible?” He asks, teeth showing from smiling.

“We would rip off each other's heads within a week.” You answer confidently. 

“What would you do if we got married?”

“Divorce you.”

This makes him laugh, a sound that is so incredibly addicting that it’s annoying. Yet you can't help but smile.

“See that’s what I mean. Only you would say that.” Seonghwa argues like he’s actually serious about this topic.

“Like you wouldn’t do the same.” You roll your eyes, scooping another spoonful of whipped cream. You knew that if you and Seonghwa were married, it would probably turn into a competition of who could sign the divorce papers first. Yes, you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, and you’ll admit; he has been doing some very nice things to you. But you’re convinced he would never actually consider taking this a step further. You’re not his type, you know that. 

Seonghwa leans forward towards you, speaking in a volume that makes this seem like an important topic.

“Be honest with me, you couldn’t ever see us dating?”

The fact that he’s still talking about this, is making you question everything.

“I don’t know, is it important?” You shrug.

“It’s a simple question.” He leans his head slightly to the side, questioning you. 

“Could you see us dating?” You ask back.

“I asked you first.”

He leans back in his seat, waiting for your answer. The answer is simple, right? Yet you don’t know why you’re not spitting out a hard “no”. Instead, you’re taking your time, reading his body language, trying to figure out how to answer this the best way.

“I mean.. There’s a lot of things to take into consideration when talking about topics like that- what?” You ask in the middle of your sentence when you see a smile growing on his face like he’s entertained.

“Just answer yes or no.” 

“Then… No.” You finally answer.

“Why not?” 

Growing tired of him questioning you about this like it’s actually important, you release a deep sigh and close your book. “Because you’re a menace 92% of the time.” 

The topic is making your hands sweaty and your mouth dry for some unknown reason. You grab your hot cocoa after eating most of the whipped cream on top, blowing on the drink so you won’t burn yourself. 

“And the remaining 8%?” He asks, also taking his hot cocoa in his hands.

You scan his face for a moment, trying to figure out the best answer without boosting his ego too much. “You’re bearable.”

“I can work with that.” He shrugs with a smirk before taking a sip of his drink.

***

Seonghwa decided to join you on your way back to the cottage after drinking the hot cocoa. You don’t mind it, now having a feeling that you can actually have a normal conversation with him.

It’s a Christmas miracle. 

“Have you ever watched the Gringe? You two are like the same person.” Seonghwa enters the living room and throws himself on the couch next to you.

Nevermind.

You roll your eyes, not sparing him a glance. "Funny." You say. 

You fix the heating pad on your stomach, feeling the pain slowly fading away. He notices your hands on your stomach and the crumbled chocolate wrap next to you.

“You know, there’s another way to get rid of period pain.” He says, and you feel his eyes on you. 

"I can’t believe that I’m asking you, out of all people, but what?” You turn your head to look at him, and a smirk suddenly makes its way to his lips.

“Orgasms.”

You throw your head back along with a deep sigh. “You just had to, didn’t you? You just had to make it sexual?” Your reaction makes him laugh, a sound you’ve gotten awfully used to the last few days. 

“I’m being deadly serious, though. It’s scientifically proven.” He sits up more straight and turns to look at you. “It obviously doesn’t have to be done by a partner, you can do it by yourself. I’m just saying..” He ends it with a shrug and holds his hands up in defense.

“Well thank you, but no thank you.”

“Just thought I’d share my knowledge with you.. Also to let you know that I completely understand if the pain gets too much and you need to.. you know.” The smirk is evident in his voice, but you just send him a glare.

“I repeat.. Thank you, but no thank you.”

“Alright..” He lies down on the couch again and a silence surrounds you. You turn your head to look at him but are met with a smirk and you don’t have to think twice to know what he’s thinking about. 

“Seonghwa, I will knock you on your fat ass if you even think about it.”

Another laugh escapes him, and you can’t help but smile at the sound. “Alright, alright.. Sorry.”

Before you actually knock him out, your parents enter the cottage along with Seonghwa’s dad. Not even a minute goes by before your mom is in the living room, a huge smile on her face and eyes on you.

“Honey! You never guess what happened!” Her excitement steals both your and Seonghwa’s attention. “We were at the ski resort, and we met the waiter from dinner the other night!” She’s practically jumping and clapping, overly excited about this.

“Oh, really?” You say, slightly confused. You haven’t thought much about the waiter since the dinner. He was really cute and seemed to give you a new form of attention, but for some reason, your mind has been a little.. occupied the last few days.

“Yes, and he immediately recognized us and he asked for your number!” Her words almost make your eyes pop out of your skull.

“My number?” 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted it, but I saw the way he looked at you at dinner,” She wiggled her eyebrows, acting like the ultimate wingwoman. “Instead I asked for his on your behalf, then you can text him if you’d like. He said he would like to take you to dinner before we leave.” She handed you a napkin with a number and his name on it, and you looked at it for a few seconds, contemplating how you should feel.

“Oh.. Cool, thanks.”

You were happy, of course you were. A guy who looks incredibly cute is requesting to take you out to dinner. What’s not to like?

But for some reason, a teeny tiny piece of you don’t want this. But a dinner with him won’t hurt anyone, right? 

***

It’s been a few days since you got the waiter’s phone number. You made the decision to text him later that night, thanking him for being such a good waiter on the first night. The conversation then escalated to him inviting you to dinner the day after tomorrow, on the 23rd. A lot of thoughts roamed your mind, wondering if you should do it or not. He was really nice, and seemed like a good guy, so why weren’t you ecstatic about this?

You ended up saying yes, throwing yourself out there. It’s just a date. Besides, he probably lives in the area and you live a few hours away. Most likely, this won’t even work out, but a fun night out could be needed.

You’ve also had a nice few days, feeling extremely happy. Your period is over, your ankle is feeling better and everyone seems to be in a good mood. The other day, your mom even commented on the fact that you and Seonghwa aren’t bickering as much as you used to. You didn’t know what to say about that, quickly changing the topic of conversation.

It’s not like you had an answer to that, anyway. 

You walk down the stairs, about to head to the kitchen when something catches your eye. You stop in your tracks and look into the living room. All by himself, Seonghwa is standing next to the Christmas tree, looking at one specific ornament. Slowly, you make your way towards him, watching as his fingers trace the ornament.

“Hi.” You say in a low volume, trying not to startle him. He looks back at you, putting on his best smile, but you can tell something is roaming his mind.

“Hey.” His gaze returns to the ornament, and you quickly realize it’s the one he chose for his mom when you and him were shopping for Christmas ornaments. It’s elegant, simple, and definitely her style.

“It’s pretty.” You say, keeping your eyes on the snowflake.

“Yeah.. I feel like she would have chosen this one.” Seonghwa’s eyes still don't leave it, and he’s watching it with so much love. Like he’s actually looking at his mom.

“She did. Through you.” You look away from the ornament and turn to look at him. Even more love shines through his eyes, and you can’t stop looking at him. You can tell he is thinking about his mom and all she did for him - which was a lot. She was a wonderful mom who did anything for her kids. When Seonghwa was a kid, she never missed a football game, she supported him and his sister with everything and kept a smile on her face during anything. 

“She loved Christmas,” Seonghwa says, clearly thinking of memories with his mom. “She loved coming here to the cottage, celebrating the holidays with you and your family. It was when she was the happiest.” His gaze finally leaves the snowflake decorating the tree, looking to meet your eyes.

You can’t help but think of the memories with her either. “She defined Christmas for me. I remember when we were visiting you guys in the summertime, she would make us look through the photo albums of earlier Christmases.” You find yourself laughing with Seonghwa at the memory, clearly remembering how much she loves Christmas.

“Yeah.. she was really into making memories. She loved it,” His smile froze before it slowly fell again, something clearly replacing the happy thoughts. “Ironic, how that’s the only thing I have of her now.” Sadness appears in his voice, as his eyes go back to the ornament. 

“That’s not true, Seonghwa,” You shake your head, suddenly getting the urge to grab his hand, but you don’t. “You have all the pictures, you wear her necklace, and you have us. And I know she’s here with us. Do you really think she wouldn’t be here with you for Christmas? She would never do that.” You have to fight yourself not to have tears in your eyes, but it gets even harder when Seonghwa looks at you with glistening eyes. 

Seonghwa takes in a deep breath of air and looks up at the ceiling. He blinks a few times like he’s trying his best not to cry in front of you, but you somehow wish he would. You want him to know that it’s okay. That it’s okay to cry and miss her. Because you do too, and you can’t even imagine how much pain he feels every day, not being able to touch her. Talk to her. Be with her.

He releases his breath of air and looks back down at you. “Thank you.”

His eyes are still glistening, but it feels nice talking to him about this. You’ve never talked much about his mother’s passing, not being good at expressing emotions to one another. But this trip has opened up something for both of you, allowing you to talk about your feelings. 

Feeling slightly restless, you send him one last smile, before turning around. 

“Wait..” Seonghwa stops you before you manage to walk away, and you turn around as you wait for him to say something. His eyes flicker for a moment as he tries to figure out how to word the thoughts in his head. “I’m sorry.”

The apology came out of nowhere, making your brows shoot together in question.

“For?”

He takes another moment to collect his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting the last few..” He looks up to think but scoffs at himself. “The last few years, at this point.” He looks deep into your eyes, wanting you to know that he’s not messing around right now. “I’ve said some mean things and I’ve been way over the line and you didn’t deserve that. I guess after my mom passed, I held so much anger inside of me because I regretted so many things when it came to her. So instead of dealing with it in a healthy way, I took it out on you. And don’t ask me why, because I don’t know, honestly. Maybe it was because you reminded me of her with your kind personality and everything, and so it just made me angry that she wasn’t here..” He looked down between you, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

“Either way, it doesn’t make it okay, and I’m really sorry if I’ve said some things to upset you.. Which I know I have, but I can’t remember all of them.” Seonghwa tries to send you a smile, but it ends up looking a little awkward. 

You didn’t expect this at all. Your mouth feels dry from this big apology, not knowing what to say. A part of you always sensed that his mother’s passing triggered something in him to make him angry with you, but you didn’t know why. And it seemed like he didn’t either, but you could tell that he was genuinely sorry. 

You send him a smile, not wanting him to feel bad anymore. 

“Thank you. And I’m sorry too if I’ve ever said something back in rage.” You apologize, knowing for sure that you’ve said some things to him that weren't very nice either.

“You don’t have to apologize, I probably deserved it.” Seonghwa tries to joke, forcing a smile. “I just don’t want my mom to be disappointed with me.”

Once again, your heart breaks for him. You know how much she meant to him.

“Seonghwa, your mom was an amazing and beautiful woman. She raised you and your sister to be good people, and you are. The two of us have not always gotten along the best, but if it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t even be able to stand up right now, hadn’t you taken so much care of my ankle. You bought me a bunch of stuff to help me get through my period. Or last year when I fell on my skis and I couldn’t walk, I know you were the one who bought me my favorite brownies because no one knows I love them but you. Or three years ago when my car crashed, you drove me to the mechanic and when I had to pay a week later, you had paid for it and asked them to lie and tell me I had won some stupid competition that made it free.”

“Why do you think I paid for it?”

“I knew something was up so I asked for the details and they couldn’t lie anymore. I saw the payment. P.S.H written with your bank account number.” You explained, making his eyes flicker.

“Well.. You didn’t have a job at the time.” He started excusing, but it only proved your point further.

“Exactly. And that’s what I mean, Seonghwa. Your mom could never be disappointed with you, because even though the two of us weren’t even friends, you still helped me, and you help everyone around you. Your mom loves you, and I know she’s watching over you with nothing but care. She would be really proud of you.” 

This is what pushes Seonghwa over the edge. He looks away from you and a sob escapes him. For the first time, you see Seonghwa cry. Not even right after his mom passed did you see him cry. But now, you see tears cover his cheeks, despite him desperately trying to hide his face with his hands. 

Doing something you’ve never done, you take a few steps closer to him and wrap your arms around his waist to hug him. This is not about the past, how much you used to fight, or if you’re even friends. Right now, he’s crying because of the loss of his mother, and you need to be there for him.

You feel Seonghwa wrap his arms around you too, fully accepting this as he tries to control his sobs. Your head is pressed against his chest, and you’re able to hear his heart pounding fast. It’s a sound so intimate and it only makes you want to be closer to him. To hear him talk for hours about what is roaming his mind, no matter how emotional it might get.

You don’t know how long you’re hugging him, but his sobs quietly die down, and his heart starts to beat at a normal pace. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles in your embrace, and you pull back to see his eyes slightly red and puffy. You’re not ready to leave him yet, not wanting him to be alone.

“Are you busy?” You suddenly ask. He seems a little taken aback by your sudden question but shakes his head.

“No.”

“Do you want to watch ‘Home Alone’ with me?” You point to the TV, thinking this would be a good way to end the day. A smile creeps up on his lips, and he nods.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

Everyone has gone to bed, and after spending what feels like hours being nervous about your date in two days, you decide to head to bed. After changing into your oversized nightshirt, you carefully make your way to the bathroom. You make sure not to make too much noise so you won’t wake up the rest, and start getting ready to brush your teeth. 

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opens, and Seonghwa walks in, unaware that you’re here.

“Oh sorry, I thought you had gone to bed.” He excuses, stopping his tracks. You can’t help but notice how he’s only in his sweatpants, his bare chest visible. You have to fight everything in you not to look down at his naked torso, but it’s almost impossible. 

“I’m about to.” You say, holding the toothbrush in hand.

“Can I brush my teeth?” He asks, pointing at his toothbrush by the sink.

“Sure.” You answer, taking a step away to give him some space.. and not to be too close to him, because he looks better than you imagined, and you're not sure how to behave right now. 

He walks to the sink, and as you brush your teeth, you slowly find your eyes traveling to him. You’ve seen his chest before, but that was years ago when you went to the beach as teens. But now, seeing him as an adult, he’s completely changed. He’s slender with a thin waist, but still lean and muscles visible. His sweatpants are hanging low, making you able to see his entire abdomen and down to the top of his pelvis area through the mirror. 

Never have you seen him like this before, but it’s definitely doing something to you. You feel something in your stomach, the same thing you’ve felt before. And it’s making you want to go absolutely crazy.

But little do you know that Seonghwa is doing anything in his power not to look at you. When he walked out and saw you in your big oversized t-shirt, covering your entire upper body and stopping right at the thighs, he thought that would be the end of him. Your hair is in a messy bun and you look so cozy and comfortable in your shirt. He’s not sure if you’re wearing something underneath, but it doesn’t look like it, and that alone is making his mind go to places it shouldn’t. 

Does he feel your eyes on him? Of course, he does. 

And it’s making him go crazy.

But he can’t look at you or react, because he’s doing everything in his power to think of other things than you, or else a certain part of him would get very.. excited, and in these gray sweatpants, it will be more visible than normal. 

You finish brushing your teeth before him, and you take a step towards the sink. He’s giving you space by taking a step back, but he shouldn’t have done that. Now he has a complete view of you as you’re bending over to spit in the sink, and your shirt slightly raises, still not giving the impression that you’re wearing something underneath. 

He’s about to stop brushing his teeth so he can go back to his room, not being able to stay here a minute longer, but you’re meeting his eyes through the mirror and you send him a relaxed smile.

“Goodnight.” You say just above a whisper.

“Goodnight.” He replies, and you walk back to your room before he can leave. You didn’t get to do your skincare or brush your hair, you just had to get out of there. 

His body was looking amazing, and afraid of suddenly embarrassing yourself, you had to leave. 

After waiting for a few minutes in your room for him to leave, you finally got the chance to finish your night routine. When you opened your door, you found that the bathroom was unoccupied. So, you tiptoed your way back and completed your routine, brushing your hair, doing your nightly skincare routine, and ensuring that you are completely prepared before returning to your room.

Stepping back into the hallway, you walk past the closed door to Seonghwa’s room, but stop when you hear a certain sound. 

A soft grunt came from the other side of the door, only to be followed by a light moan. Your immediate thought is to walk away, but for some reason, you couldn’t get yourself to move. Seonghwa's voice released another moan, sounding so soft and somehow rough at the same time, and before you knew it, your thoughts were running wild. Without realizing it, you take a step closer to his door to get a better listen.

You shouldn't be doing this. But as another moan escapes from behind the door, your heart races. Seonghwa’s voice sounds so mild and soft as these moans continue on, making you picture what he looks like. 

His gray sweatpants pulled down slightly as he strokes himself. Bare chest and in his bed, eyes closed as he bites his lip to quiet down the sounds. His hair messy, possibly sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Moan.

Shivers all over your body from the picture your mind just created. You know he looks absolutely gorgeous because he always does. But this is making you go crazier than ever before, and a sudden need for him is taking over you.

A creaking from the floor underneath you woke you up from your daydreaming, and a longer pause from the moans filled the air. Panic rises inside of you, so you hurry back to your own room. Closing the door behind you, your heart beats fast against your chest. 

Not-so-innocent thoughts still roam your mind as you get under the sheets. Hopefully, he didn’t hear you outside. If he did, you’ll just say you went to the bathroom. 

But never has this happened before, making you wonder what would’ve happened if he caught you listening. 

Before you know it, you’re in a deep sleep, the last thing you think of is Seonghwa.

***

The texts between you and the waiter have been rather superficial so far, not exactly knowing what to talk about yet. Hopefully, the talk will be smooth when you’re on the actual date.

Another day has gone and you went to the city to spend some time and buy some last Christmas gifts. The entire day was spent walking, and you'll admit that your ankle was starting to hurt. You tried pushing away the pain but ended up driving home.

This resulted in you saying no to having dinner in the city. It was your dad's idea, but even the thought of walking anymore was already hurting your ankle, so you told the others to just enjoy a nice dinner in the city. 

Surprised, Seonghwa didn’t join the rest either. You only overheard him telling them to have a nice evening, and then your parents left, along with Seonghwa’s dad. You knew they’d have a great time, probably going out for drinks after dinner.

Or so you hoped, because it was now 9:30 in the evening, and they were still not home yet. 

You switched the TV channel in the living room. Seonghwa walked in, sat down, and watched in silence.

Of course, you hadn’t mentioned anything about your little meeting in the bathroom last night and what it led to for you. And thankfully, he hadn’t either, so you were able to wake up today with a fresh mind.

“Why didn’t you wanna go out with the others?” You asked, changing to another channel again.

“Didn’t feel like going out tonight..” He shrugged. Neither of you said anything for a few moments, only looking for something interesting to watch. Every channel showed the same kind of low-budget Christmas movies on every channel, except one channel with a weird dating show called ‘Date My Mom’.

“So..” Seonghwa starts saying next to you, a few seconds of silence as you continue changing channels. “You’re gonna have dinner with that waiter?” 

“Yeah.. We’re going out tomorrow,” You respond, not looking at him. Just thinking of it, your heart starts to beat a little faster. The dating scene has always been uncomfortable to you, having gone on some awful dates in the past. “I’m a little nervous, I overthink everything. What to eat, what to wear..” You take a moment to think, considering your choices of clothes. You didn’t pack much fancy clothes, but you did have some options. “Maybe I could wear that red dress from the other night?” You think loud to yourself.

“No.” Seonghwa says.

“No?” Your gaze turns to him. “Why? I thought it was pretty..”

“I guess, but he has already seen that dress on you.” He shrugs, and you guess he has a point. But it is your favorite dress, and you feel confident in it. That makes a question pop into your head.

“Now that we’re at the topic and you're a guy; do guys notice what girls are wearing and remember it? Or do they not care?” You fully don’t care what’s on the TV now, turning your body towards Seonghwa to hopefully get some tips for tomorrow. Plus, you’re also just curious.

“Oh, we notice.” Seonghwa sounds confident in his answer, looking at you with a cocky smile.

“But don’t you just remember it on girls you’re interested in or girls in general?”

“It depends, the same way you do for guys,” He looks back at the screen, but your eyes staring at him, has his head turned to you, looking slightly confused. “What?”

“Have you ever put thought into what I was wearing?” You ask without holding back. Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have asked Seonghwa this question. But you and Seonghwa have gotten closer on this trip, so you felt like you could ask him without making it weird.

“Maybe.”

He answers like it isn’t a big deal, but your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. 

“Really? What was I wearing?” Your whole body is now turned towards him, curious to know his answer.

“I think we’re gonna end this conversation here. Goodnight.” He stands up from the couch and makes his way to the stairs.

“Seonghwa! Please.”

“No, you’re just gonna rub it in my face. Goodnight!” His back is still turned to you as he reaches the stairs.

“Noo, I promise I won’t!” 

He stops in his tracks, releasing a deep sigh. He looks back at you, looking slightly annoyed. "Goodnight… “ His words are harsh, but when he turns around to walk up the stairs, he takes a moment, before looking back at you again. “The red dress.”

A subtle smirk appears on his lips before he disappears up the stairs, leaving you frozen on the couch. The way his eyes held a hint of something unknown, something hidden, made your heart beat faster than normal.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at nothing for a few minutes before you decide to head upstairs as well. A shower is necessary, so you head to the bathroom and take a well-deserved shower. Your eyes linger on Seonghwa’s door for a few seconds before walking into the bathroom. The seating area in the shower makes it take a bit longer than normal since you enjoy sitting there a bit too much under the warm water. In your defense, your ankle hurts when you stand up too long.

Finishing up in the shower, you realize that you forgot your night clothes in your room. With a sigh, you dry yourself off and wrap the towel around your body before hurrying into your room. You close your door behind you, and just as you’re about to reach for something to put on, your eyes notice something red lying by itself on the chair. 

A smirk spreads on your lips as your hands reach for your red dress, slowly putting it on. You smile to yourself when you see yourself in nothing but the dress Seonghwa just admitted to think of. Silently walking out of your room, you find yourself in the dimmed-lit hallway. A few knocks on the closed door in front of you have your heart beat a little faster than normally, but the thought of teasing a little is just what you need.

The door opens and Seonghwa comes into the frame, bare chest, and gray sweatpants. The same look as yesterday with the sweatpants hanging dangerously low. Just a second passed after seeing you in the red dress in front of his door, and he was sighing deeply.

“What are you doing?” He asks, annoyed. 

You smile teasingly, looking down at yourself. “I was just trying out clothes for the date, and you’re sure I shouldn’t wear this?” Your hands run down the sides of your waist and to your hips, focusing on the way the dress hugs your body.

“Are you trying to piss me off or do you actually wanna know what I think?” Seonghwa’s eyes flicker down to your hips for a second before going back to your eyes and staying there. Like he won’t let you win this one.

“A little bit of both maybe?” You smirk, and suddenly your eyes lose the fight, slowly sinking down to his chest. Right now, you know you're in deep water. It's a dangerous game you've decided to play, but it's somehow making you want to do this even more.

But realizing that you aren’t being as tough as you imagined you’d be, you look up to see him starting to smirk like he knows what you’re thinking, “I think..” He steps out of his room, slowly approaching you until you’re pressed up against the wall behind you. “You’re playing a game with me. But it’s not working, Red dress. Go to bed.” Seonghwa then turns around, but without thinking, you grab his arm and pull him back. He rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed. “What do you want me to say? That I think you’re attractive?” 

“Do you?”

The question throws him off for a second, but he fights the tug on his lips at your bravery. You’re never this pushy, it’s always him “flirting” in the most unhinged way, so this is a thrill to see.

“You’re a menace.”

“Do you?” You try again.

Seonghwa spends a few seconds with flickering eyes, trying to read your gaze and contemplating what to say. Choosing not to give you the satisfaction, he releases himself from your soft grip. “Goodnight.” He says with a soft voice before turning around to walk away.

“Are you scared?” You challenge.

His body stops, muscles on the back tensing. “You really are trying to piss me off,” He says as he turns around, quickly moving closer to you. You suck in a harsh breath, backing up against the wall when he’s suddenly back in front of you.

“I think that your body looks amazing in that dress,” He starts, eyes looking down on your body. His voice is just above a whisper as he leans in. “The color matches your hair perfectly, the cut on the front, the back showing just enough skin..” His fingers trace your waist and mixed with the way his low voice describes the dress on you, you feel the goosebumps all over your skin. He seems to notice your reaction because a scoff leaves his lips, but he doesn’t stop tracing his fingers on the fabric. “Honestly speaking, if I were the man who was to date you while you are wearing this dress, I’d have a time figuring out whether I would rather rip it off you or fuck you in it,”

You completely stop breathing at this point. This is not like the other times he has said some shit like this. He means it.

Seonghwa leans further towards you, and you feel his lips slightly grace your ear. “But I’m not that man, so it doesn’t matter,” He whispers before leaning back, looking into your eyes. “There, I said it. Happy now?” 

Not knowing what to do or say, you just look into his dark eyes. You thought you had this when you knocked on his door, but he has you completely wrapped around his finger. A smirk spreads on his lips, and you feel his finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards. The expression of lust is so evident in his eyes.

“Are you scared?” He challenges, leaning in, but he doesn't kiss you. You feel his breath, you can almost feel how it is to kiss him, but he doesn’t do it. He’s playing with you. He’s doing what the two of you do best, and he wants you to take it to the next step.

And that you do.

Fed up with the teasing, you lean in and crash your lips against his. Like you’ve both been longing for each other, you wrap your arms around the other to get as close as possible. Seonghwa’s tongue slips in between your lips, and you let him have you as much as you suddenly crave him.

A subtle moan comes from Seonghwa, and you’re reminded of overhearing his moans. Getting even more turned on, you take one of his hands that is wrapped around your waist and guide it to your hips, silently telling him that you want this. 

The way your body fits perfectly in his hands leaves you even more thirsty for him. 

You feel his hand slide down to your thigh, slow fingers tracing your skin before you feel his touch at your heat.

The kiss breaks and Seonghwa looks down at you with a tiny crease in the middle of his forehead. “You’re not wearing any underwear.. You wanted this to happen?” 

“Maybe.” You whisper, not knowing if you should feel confident or slightly embarrassed. But you know Seonghwa is into it when he smiles and you feel one of his fingers run between your folds. 

“You’re such a little slut, I’m gonna have to take care of you.” He starts using two of his fingers to stimulate your clit, the feeling being absolutely addicting. You don’t know if it’s the feeling of doing something in the middle of the hallway or the fact that it’s Seonghwa who is fingering you, but the pleasure is out of this world. You’re already wet, and Seonghwa notices, so he uses the opportunity to slide two of his slender fingers into you and a muffled moan escapes your mouth. A smirk reaches his lips. “The house is empty, moan all you want, baby.”

His fingers are long, and you can’t help but clench around them. You feel him curl his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t know felt so good. Throwing your head back in an attempt to keep yourself from going insane, Seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss your neck. Another moan escapes your lips as you feel his fingers work in and out of you at a faster pace. His other hand keeps a grip on your waist, holding you steady. 

Every thought is lost in your brain as Seonghwa angles his fingers and makes sure to be knuckles deep into you. Him being the tease he is, he slows down the pace when you start feeling your orgasm build up in your stomach, resulting in you starting to ride his fingers yourself. You're earned with a smile from Seonghwa, as your arms wrap around him to keep you steady.

“That's it, ride my fingers, you're doing so good.” He compliments. The way his low voice speaks makes you clench around his fingers again and the orgasm slowly starts forming in your stomach again. “Gonna cum already? You like having my fingers fuck you?” 

“Y-Yes.” You manage to get out, but the orgasm approaches fast, faster than you’ve ever tried before. “Fuck, Seonghwa, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” He whispers and fastens the pace again. In a second, you’re doing everything you can to keep yourself on your legs as your orgasm approaches. The sounds of Seonghwa’s fingers in your pussy are echoing through the hallway, followed by your loud moans. His name slips out between your lips and a smile tugs on his lips. “That’s it, say my name.”

His eyes are studying your face as you ride your orgasm, not missing a glimpse of this moment. You meet his eyes, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. You then realize how much you missed his lips on yours already, and you feel him pull out his fingers to focus on the kiss. Tongues fighting for dominance, you’re both hungry for each other. 

“What should I do with you?” Seonghwa asks as he pulls back for a second.

You’re quick to answer. “Fuck me.” 

“My room or yours?” 

“I don’t care.”

Seonghwa is definitely taking the lead and guides you into your bedroom. Your brain is nothing but Seonghwa, so you couldn't care less which bed you end up in. Your lips are on his again as he moves you both to your bed. Suddenly feeling something behind your thighs, you feel Seonghwa push you back, landing on the bed, before crawling on top of you. 

His hands are all over your body, trying to touch every inch, when a groan escapes from the back of his throat. “You know what? Fuck this dress, take it off.” Seonghwa then helps you up on your knees so you can get out of the dress, pulling it over your head. Seeing you completely naked in front of him, his smile only grows as he sees how stunning you look. 

Feeling overwhelmed, he grabs your face to kiss you as he stands next to the bed, you on your knees on the mattress. His bare skin under your fingers is driving you crazy, so as your tongue moves with his, you can't help but play with the elastic band around his waist, holding up the sweatpants. A growing bulge is making its appearance under the fabric. The thought of seeing every part of his body is making you feral, and he senses your neediness because he pulls back and looks down at your hands playing with the rim of his sweatpants.

“I guess, technically, you still owe me telling you what to do for a day, because of our little bet and I wanna hear how fucking stupid you sound gagging on my dick. Can you do that?” 

Seonghwa knows exactly what to say, because something switches inside of you, and you can’t wait to taste him. Feel him and have him all to yourself. 

You nod and lower yourself to pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers. The sight of his cock is absolutely astonishing. It’s way bigger than you thought, and the veins running up and down make it look so pretty. Feeling excited to make Seonghwa feel as good as he made you feel, you lean down and start tracing your tongue on his shaft. Starting from the bottom, tongue flat against his cock you lick all the way to the head where pre-cum is glistening, earning a moan from Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa’s eyes don't leave you for a second, but he grows slightly impatient when you decide to tease a little. The tip of your tongue traces along the veins of his hard cock, not ever taking him fully into your mouth. Looking up into his eyes as you do so, you see him growing more and more frustrated, his breath getting more and more uneven. Suddenly, his hand grabs your hair and yanks it down so you’re forced to look into his eyes. He bends down so your faces are close, having a look in his eyes you haven’t seen before, but it turns you on even more. 

“One more tease and I will pin you down and pump you full of cum, understood?” He speaks just above a whisper, and the thought of him doing this to you tempts you to continue teasing him, but a part of you wants to hear him praise you. To say how good you are for him, so you put him in your mouth and start moving your head. He’s stretching your mouth because of how wide he is, but you’re determined to try and have all of him in your mouth. 

“Mmm, good girl. Just like that.” Seonghwa praise makes you go faster, using your hands too. But wanting to see how much of him you can fit, you try to take all of him in your throat. Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair, carefully guiding you. The taste of pre-cum runs down your throat, and you feel your nose hit his pubic area, taking all of him in your mouth. You feel tears stinging in your eyes, and suddenly a gagging sound comes from your throat. Seonghwa pulls back, leaving strings of a mix between spit and precum between you and his cock. Finally being able to breathe properly, you gasp for air and a scoff leaves Seonghwa. “Aww, is it too much for you?”

He almost sounds like he’s mocking you, but you shake your head.

“N-No..” Your throat hurts a bit as you speak.

“You sound so cute,” He caresses his thumb on your cheek, babying you like you didn’t just choke on his cock. “Now tell me.. How bad do you wanna do this?” He pulls you up on your knees so you’re face to face, his hands steadying you. One of his hands goes under your chin, thumb running over your lips to smear out his precum on your lips.

“So bad, Seonghwa. I want this.” And you do. You’ve never felt so hungry for someone.

“That’s it. Now be a good girl and sit on my dick,” 

It takes no time for you both to get onto the bed, Seonghwa lying down with you sitting on top of him. He strokes his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance, teasing you.

“You think you can take this cock?” He asks, looking deeply into your eyes. You want to scoff, knowing it’s probably gonna be the biggest size you’ve ever had in you, but you won’t feed his ego with that information.

“Please, don’t think too highly of - ah!” Your sentence is interrupted by Seonghwa pushing his cock inside of you, slowly stretching you out. 

“Sorry, what were you saying? I didn’t get that,” He teases, pushing you down so you’re taking him all inside of you. You can’t even think straight, the only thing in your brain is the feeling of him. “Isn’t it nice? Feeling so full?”

“Mh-hm.” You nod as you bite your lip, finally sitting down fully on top of him. He hits the right spot inside of you immediately, but he doesn’t move yet.

“Do you have any idea of how bad I’ve wanted this? Ever since the dinner night when you wore that fucking dress, I’ve wanted to fuck the shit out of you.” His hands run down your thighs, eyes taking in how you look on top of him. “I had to touch myself to the thought of you, but you already know that, don’t you? You’ve been listening on the other side of the door.” He smiles, and you meet his eyes. You’re too focused on his huge size that you can’t even find the ability to be embarrassed. 

You try to move up so he can start going in and out of you, but his hands hold you down, keeping you from getting any friction. 

“Seonghwa, please..”

“Please what?” He teases.

“Don’t tease me, please. Just move.” You beg, but he doesn’t look satisfied. ‘You can do better than that’ his expression says. An unsatisfied groan leaves you. “Please just fuck me. Fuck me and make me cum, please.”

A smile creeps up on his lips. “There you go, baby,” 

Without warning, he switches you both around so he’s on top, angled between your legs. A deep thrust surprises you, making you gasp.

“Oh my god.” You moan, fingers gripping onto the sheets under you. Seonghwa continues to thrust deep into you, slowly increasing the speed. He sits up, angled so he gets a perfect view of his cock going in and out of your cunt.

“You can take it, can’t you? Like a good slut?” His hands grab your waist, now going at a fast pace. It’s hard to get any words out, your brain is completely shut off, but you manage to say a few words still.

“Yes, I know I can. Just for you.” You say, words barely pronounced right. This takes Seonghwa into a new world, leaning down to kiss your neck. Hands finding yours, he merges his fingers with yours as he starts whispering in your ear.

“That’s right, tell me what a slut you are. Tell me how fucking badly you need me to fuck you. Tell me every sick and twisted thing you want me to do to you.” He ordered, still going at a fast pace. His lips find your neck again, leaving kisses all over you.

“Fuck me. You can do anything you want with me. I’m yours and you can use me whenever you-” You don’t get to finish the sentence before another loud moan fights its way out of your mouth. You’re sure his name came out of your mouth too at some point, but right now, you don’t know. You don’t have any control over your body, you’re completely in Seonghwa’s control.

“Fuck, I love hearing you scream for me,” Seonghwa says in your ear, using one of his hands to hold your legs open for him as he continues to thrust. A smile tugs on his lips as you moan again. “You think your little waiter can make you feel so good?”

“No, only you can.” You don’t even have to think twice. You’re sure no one can make you feel this good besides Seonghwa.

“That’s right, let’s make sure you won’t forget that,” Seonghwa suddenly pulls out and sits up. He turns you around so you’re on your stomach, and you feel him positioning himself at your entrance again. Your legs are locked under him as he enters you again fully before hovering over you, back against his front as he fucks you into the mattress. His hands push you down, forcing you to just take him as you lie on the bed.

“Shit.. I wish you could see how fucking amazing you look with my cock in you. You’re so pretty.” He leans down to press multiple kisses on your shoulders, his fingers finding yours again to intertwine them. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, and quickly you feel your second orgasm form in your stomach.

“Seonghwa, I-I’m gonna cum.” You say, head against the mattress. This only makes him go faster and deeper.

“Cum for me again, I know you can do it.” He says, and not a second passes before your legs are shaking and you clench around his cock. This makes Seonghwa moan loud too, feeling his orgasm approach at a fast pace.

“I gotta cum, baby.” He warns, fucking you fast and deep as he pounds you through your orgasm. 

“Cum in me, please.” You moan, wanting him to release inside of you. You’re still in the middle of your orgasm when Seonghwa thrusts a last time before spilling his load inside of you. His moans are prettier than you could’ve ever imagined, way better than what you overheard, and you feel his warm cum spread inside of you, leaking out while he’s still inside.

“Fuck.. Shit, you feel so good.” He thrusts a few more times, wanting as much as possible to fill your hole, before losing the strength in his arms and relaxing on top of you. 

You feel his heart beating fast against your back, both of your bodies sticky from the sweat. Deep and fast breaths are the only things heard in the room, both of you trying to get back to your normal breathing. You feel his hand run through your hair as soft kisses are placed on your shoulders. Without realizing, feeling a million emotions all at once, you can’t help but smile. He’s still inside of you, but you like it. This closeness, the amount of kisses he’s showering you with. It’s something you never expected to happen, but it has never felt better.

“Are you okay?” He asks caringly, removing some of your hair so he can see the side of your face. 

You nod, getting back to your normal breathing.

“I think I need a new shower. I’m all sweaty.” You admit, feeling him remove himself from you. He places a last kiss on your temple before pulling out of you.

“That makes two of us.” He says before getting out of bed. You’re about to get up, but Seonghwa catches you by surprise and takes you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom in bridal style (not something new for you) and carefully, he places you on the bench in the huge shower. Your legs are weak after the intense session you two shared, so you’re thankful for him carrying you. He’s out of the bathroom a second later, leaving you confused, but he’s back a moment after with his sweatpants and some clothes for you. 

Your eyes follow him as he’s in his own world, turning on the water.

“What are you doing?” You ask from your seat.

“You usually take up all the hot water. Let's share it this time,” Seonghwa holds out his hand for you to take. His eyes have a warmth in them, something so full of care that you couldn’t ever say no to this. You grab his hand and stand up, moving closer to him. 

The shower is big enough for both of you, but you don’t move around much, only watching as Seonghwa adjusts the water to the right temperature and takes the loofah in his hands. He turns you around so your back is facing him, and you feel him start washing your body.

“You want your hair washed too?” He asks, his voice incredibly soft-spoken. 

“No, just my body.” You smile, not knowing what to do. He doesn’t respond, just continues to use the loofah on your body to clean you. His front is against your back, but not once is there any hint of something sexual in the shower. Seonghwa doesn’t lead up to anything, only kisses your shoulder once in a while as his arms wrap around you to wash your front. You have sensed his caring side a few times on this trip, but this is a whole new level. You had no idea that Seonghwa could be this soft, especially with you. 

The warm water washes over you, rinsing off the soap. You feel clean again and turn around to face him.

“Thank you.” You smile, and he leans in to kiss you softly on the lips. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and washes himself too. He’s quick to finish, and you both walk out of the shower. The same thing happens when you have to dry yourself - Seonghwa does basically the entire thing, using a big towel to dry your body. He helps you in your underwear and in your sleeping t-shirt (except you notice it smells extremely like him, only to realize he grabbed one of his shirts for you to sleep in). He puts it over your head and smiles satisfied when you’re done.

“There we go, good as new.” He says and puts on his boxers and sweatpants.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, not able to stop yourself. You were genuinely curious where all of this came from, so it wasn’t because you didn’t want him to. You had just never expected it.

“Doing what?” 

“This..” Your arms point between you, to the shower, and around you. He takes a step closer to you and pushes some of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. 

“Because we just had rough sex and I want to take care of you after,” He shrugs. You stare up at him, making him smile before he leans down to kiss you softly on the lips. It feels different than the other kisses like this one is full of something new. He pulls back, and you realize you miss his lips on yours already. “Also.. I think we both know that this was more than just a casual hookup.”

His voice is low like he’s scared that someone might hear, despite the two of you being the only ones home. But the words leave you with a million questions, but nowhere to start. Because before you realize what he said, he takes your hand and pulls you back into your bedroom. He’s in complete control of you, for some reason, your mind doesn’t work properly with him around you. 

“C’mere.” He says, opening his arms when you both get in bed. Doing as he says, you get into his embrace, and he closes his arms around you. You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he pulls you closer to him, your back against his front. A kiss is placed on your temple as you just lie in the arms of the man you’ve fought with for most of your life, falling into a deep sleep.

***

You wake up to a bright room and stretch in your bed. As you look around, you realize that there is more space than you thought. Turning to your side, you find the bed empty and sit up, scanning the room for Seonghwa, but he is nowhere to be found.

Did he go back to his own room after you fell asleep?

A little confused, you get out of bed and walk to open the door and hear something downstairs. Someone is talking, and you immediately recognize your mom’s voice along with Seonghwa’s. You make your way to the kitchen downstairs, seeing your mom cleaning while Seonghwa is eating some cereal by the kitchen island. His back is turned to you, but you can tell he’s laughing at something your mom said.

“Good morning, honey!” Your mom says as she sees you enter the kitchen, and you make your way around it so you’re on the opposite side of Seonghwa. Trying not to make your mom feel any tension between you and Seonghwa, you casually sit down and grab a bowl and a spoon. You can’t help but look across the kitchen island to see Seonghwa smile at you, eyes lighting up. He bites his smile and tries to hide the tension too, not wanting your mom to know what happened between you two last night. “Slept well?” Your mom asks. 

“Uhm, yeah. Very well.” You clear your throat and look up at Seonghwa again. He’s smirking to himself, looking down at his bowl of cereal. He’s wearing one of his white T-shirts now, similar to the one you’re wearing at the moment. It’s not like your families can’t know that you and Seonghwa might start seeing each other. But there’s no reason for them to know what the two of you did while the rest were out to dinner last night.

“So, are you ready for your date later?” Your mom asks, making both you and Seonghwa freeze. His smile is gone, eyes looking up at you with curiosity and… worry?

Your eyes flicker for a moment, as you had completely forgotten about your date with the waiter tonight. But after what happened last night, you’re not sure about this date. Especially not when a certain someone is sitting across from you, messy morning hair and sweatpants, yet you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone.

“Uhm..” You look at Seonghwa a last time before looking at your mom. “I don’t think I’ll go on a date with him, Mom.” 

“Aww, how come?” She asks, curiosity evident in her voice.

“It won’t work out..” You say, not being able to tell her the entire truth. But the eyes you feel staring at you from across the kitchen island keep you from staying quiet. “Besides, I think I might like someone else.”

Seonghwa’s eyes look away from you, as he takes his empty bowl and starts cleaning it in the sink. You can’t see his face, but for a split second when he turned his face to the side, you saw him fighting back a smile.

“Really? Who?” Your mom's words wake you up from staring at Seonghwa, and you look back at her. 

“I’ll tell you later on, it’s still pretty new and I have to figure out if he even likes me too.” You shrug, not even knowing what to say about your situation with Seonghwa. You’ve known each other your entire lives, not once have there been a hint of something romantic between you two. Not until this trip. But you would lie if you said that the things he has done for you on this trip didn’t wake up something in you. Something you didn’t know was there but was waiting to be woken up. 

“Well, I hope it’s gonna work out for you, honey.” A smile tugs on your mother’s lips as he kisses the top of your head. She walks out of the kitchen, and just as her figure is out of sight, you feel a pair of lips kiss your cheek and arms wrap around you from behind. 

You hold back your giggle as Seonghwa showers you with kisses but stops to look into your eyes.

“Good morning.” He smiles, still having his arms around you. 

“Good morning.” You smile.

“So.. You’re really not gonna go on a date with him?” His voice is low, careful not to let everyone know what you’re talking about. You shake your head.

“Nah.. I figured I’d rather put my attention on someone else.” Your words turn on the light in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“Can I take you out when we get home, then?” He suggests, but you’re not done teasing him. Despite you and him possibly starting to date, you’ve still lived your entire life teasing each other. That’s not something you’re gonna stop doing, just because you’re dating.

“What makes you think I wanna date you?” You scoff and roll your eyes, looking down at your bowl of cereal. You feel his grip around you loosen as he reads your face. If only you knew what he was going to tease you back with when he leaned close to your ear.

“‘Seonghwa, fuck, oh Seonghwa.’” He imitates your words from last night, and you quickly push him away, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Stop! Don’t!” You say, not being able to hold back your own laugh from hearing his. He walked back closer to you, a teasing look on his face.

“Isn’t that how you sounded screaming my name last night?” He asked, eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

“Alright! Alright alright alright,” You shake your head, wanting to move on from how you sounded last night. “You’re unhinged, you know that?”

“I’m just proving a point.” He shrugs.

“The point being what?”

“That you shouldn’t date anyone but me.” He smiles satisfied, like it’s common knowledge. A while ago, you would’ve laughed in his face if he said that to you, but now, it only makes the butterflies go crazy in your entire body. But of course, he can’t know (yet) how weak in the knees he’s making you, so you only respond with a casual answer.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Oh, I have a better idea,��� His arms find their way around you again as you look up at him from your stool. “How about we go on a date here, and we’ll go out to eat in the restaurant where that waiter is working and he can see that we’re-”

“Nooo, no, no, we’re not doing that.” You stop him.

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.

“Because that’s gonna make everyone besides you uncomfortable, and you’re not gonna be dragging that poor man to the ground, again. He hasn’t done anything wrong, you know.” You defended, not wanting to stir any kind of drama. You just had to text the waiter that there wouldn’t be a date, but you’re thankful for the opportunity. But knowing Seonghwa, you’re not surprised by him coming up with this idea. You’re also earned with Seonghwa rolling his eyes at you.

“Boring, but fine. Is this how our relationship starts? With you telling me what not to do?” He asks, of course, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. 

“When you’re being a menace, yes. And I might tell you what not to do, but if we do what we did last night.. Isn’t that a pretty good deal?” You suggest, watching as Seonghwa smiles even more while he holds you closer.

“Baby, you can tell me what to do and what not to do for the rest of our lives, if we can do what we did last night.” He leans closer, his lips barely touching yours. "I'd happily be your servant for the rest of time if you promise to stay with me."

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile satisfied.

“Can’t wait.” He finally presses his lips against yours, making the fireworks in your body go crazy. Your mind goes blank again, falling into the deep hole of Seonghwa, wishing to stay there forever. 

Taglist:

@canigotosleep--plz @miyajack @uyumilk @hhoneylix @staytiny816 @skzscb @yeologist @likexaxdaydream @yunsara @hrtniki @dazzlingstarrs @mingiturnip @vannabanana1995 @xoxominghxe @stfu-rina   

(I only have a main taglist, lmk if you wanna be added <3)

[bueckersleftbraid]

”—The Weight of Staying

WC: 5.9k

singer/songwriter!azzi x nylibertyplayer!paige

warnings: none? this is pretty much just fluff

Some people are bad at letting go. Others are even worse at walking away for good. Paige and Azzi have always been a little bit of both.

authors note —> hi loves, I’m finally uploading again. I am absolutely in love with this storyline, so I hope that all of you love it too! I’m not sure if I will be adding to this, but let me know if you would like that.

A cool breeze blew through the open window in Azzi’s apartment, which was 5 floors up but the noice of the city was still evident from below. She sat at her desk, the blank page of her song writing book glaring at her. She had tried everything. Rhyming— which Azzi always thought sounded a bit childish anyway—, listening to other artists, just writing out her thoughts. But nothing seemed to work. Everything just felt like it was missing something. And honestly, Azzi felt like a part of her was missing too. She hadn’t spoken to Paige in weeks. Despite Paige having a strand of home games, so she would be in the city for a while, Azzi hadn’t gotten up the courage to text her. It had always been a cycle with them. Almost lovers, almost enemies, always something. 

Their last fight had been, well, stupid to say the least. It always ended in Azzi wanting more and Paige not being able to give her that. Paige had to travel all the time for games or brand deals or whatever event she had going on that week, which left Azzi alone in a city that was supposed to be for them. Despite this, Azzi always found herself being dragged back to the blonde. And tonight was just the same. Azzi felt alone and the only one who could make her feel better was Paige. The only one she wanted to even try. Finally, Azzi decided to pull out her phone, clicking on Paige’s contact.

Are you home?

She hit send, before locking her phone and exhaling. She looked around. God, her apartment was a mess. Cluttered with clothes and suitcases from her recent trip to Los Angeles for a pop-up concert. The only shelf that looked perfect— as it always did— was her vinyl collection. One that held so many memories. Late nights in summer when she would curl up with Paige and listen to music together. 

Suddenly, a buzz. That was quick. 

Home now. Need something?

Azzi smiled at the message. Despite the lack of contact between the two in recent times, Paige still offered to help. Because it was Azzi. How could she not?

A hug maybe. Trying to write and nothings working.

Azzi exhaled as she typed the message. She never felt like she had to hide with Paige, like she needed to feel shame for her emotions.

Want me to come pick you up?

A small smile immediately blossomed on Azzi’s face. They were back. It had always been a routine that Azzi wouldn’t call an Uber. Paige thought they were sketchy. She always said, “You never know who’s driving. Could be a creep,” which Azzi would always agree. The blonde would insist on driving Azzi herself to anywhere she needed.

Yes please, see you in 10?

Text you when I’m outside 

Once she got the message, Azzi packed a small bag. Only intending on one night at most— she had most of her stuff already at Paige’s place anyway. She slipped makeup wipes, a pair of pajamas and some clothes for her meeting in the morning, a small bag of makeup— only the necessities; blush, mascara, and a light coverage concealer— a comb so she could at least part her curls in the morning. Everything else Paige had.  

Soon enough her phone buzzed.

Outside the lobby to the left, my normal spot

Azzi smiled softly at her phone before slinging her bag over her shoulder and slipping on a pair of uggs—her black tasmans that she had matching with Paige. They were a random gift one day. The blonde had said, “I thought they suited us,” which of course made Azzi’s heart flutter— and grabbing her keys. She slipped out of her and walked down the empty hallway of her floor, relishing in the comforting silence of the moment as she waited for the elevator. 

As she exited the lobby, the chill of the midnight air hitting her and sending shivers through her body. Maybe a T-shirt wasn’t the best choice of clothing. The brunette wrapped her arms around herself as she made her way down the block to the black Jeep Grand Cherokee, a large car considering that Paige barely ever drove people around. 

“Hi Az,” Paige spoke, voice smooth as ever, as Azzi slipped into the passenger seat, the brunettes ears immediately being filled with the faint sound of Daniel Caesar.

Azzi leaned back into the seat, letting the city blur past them in streaks of gold and blue. The heat in the car was just starting to kick in, making the windows slightly fogged around the edges. The warmth felt good—comfortable, familiar. But Paige wasn’t acting like herself.

Her left hand gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual, and Azzi noticed the subtle way she leaned her body away from the driver’s side door, favoring her right. It was something only someone who knew her—really knew her—would’ve picked up on.

“You okay?” Azzi asked, glancing over, her voice light but tinged with concern.

“Mhm,” Paige responded quickly, too quickly. She didn’t meet Azzi’s eyes. “Just… sore. Took a fall during the game the other night.”

Azzi turned slightly, folding one leg beneath her in the seat. “Your shoulder?”

Paige sighed, her jaw tightening. “Yeah. Landed weird on it. It’s fine. Just bruised or something.”

There was a pause, the silence settling between them like fog. Azzi could feel it. The thing they always did—this dance of pretending nothing hurt until it did.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, not accusing, just tired in that way that only comes from missing someone who’s still technically there.

Paige shrugged with her good shoulder. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Azzi didn’t respond at first. The music in the background shifted to something low and piano-heavy—Daniel Caesar bleeding into H.E.R.—and the ache in her chest bloomed a little bigger.

“You’re not a bother,” she said softly. “Not to me.”

Paige didn’t say anything. But she reached across the console, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s until the brunette laced them together.

The rest of the drive passed quietly, just the warmth of Paige’s hand and the soft hum of music holding them together.

They pull up to Paige’s apartment.

The elevator ride up was quiet. Not awkward—just sleepy. Azzi leaned slightly against the wall, her head tilted to the side as Paige fished her keys out of her jacket pocket. The blonde was clearly favoring her right arm now, movements slow and calculated.

“You need help?” Azzi asked, watching her struggle with the key in the door.

Paige gave a dry chuckle. “Don’t insult me.”

Azzi smirked but didn’t respond. She just stepped inside when the door opened, greeted by the soft scent of vanilla and clean linen. Paige always kept the place minimalist, a reflection of how she liked to keep her life—orderly, neat, controlled. Azzi’s own chaotic energy was always a bit of a contrast, but it had blended into the space over time. A pair of her shoes still by the door. Her favorite mug on the drying rack. A sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch.

“I was gonna clean up,” Paige said as she dropped her bag by the door. “But, you know, bruised ego. Sore arm.”

“You think I care if your throw pillows are fluffed?” Azzi replied, dropping her own bag gently onto the couch.

Paige gave her a small smile, something fond flickering across her face. But then she winced again, subtle but noticeable, as she moved to take off her jacket.

“Okay, nope,” Azzi said, stepping forward. “Let me.”

She helped Paige out of the coat gently, the fabric sliding off her shoulders with effort. The blonde hissed a little as her injured shoulder twisted, and Azzi’s hands immediately stilled.

“You’re sure it’s just bruised?”

“I didn’t go to the trainer.”

Azzi gave her a look. “Of course you didn’t.”

Paige shrugged with her good shoulder. “Didn’t want them to bench me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached for the hoodie Paige had been wearing beneath the coat.

“You’re gonna have to take this off too,” she said quietly. “Let me see.”

Paige hesitated, and for a second, Azzi wondered if she’d resist. But then the blonde raised her arms—slowly, painfully—and let Azzi peel the hoodie off like a second skin. Beneath it, she wore a loose tank top, and Azzi’s eyes immediately caught the faint purpling bruise blooming across her shoulder and collarbone.

“Jesus, Paige,” she breathed. “This isn’t nothing.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not the point.”

Azzi carefully guided her to sit on the couch, then disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a heating pad and a bottle of ibuprofen she knew was always tucked in the medicine cabinet. She handed Paige the pills and plugged in the heating pad, sitting beside her as it warmed up.

They sat in silence for a while, the glow of the living room lamps casting soft shadows against the walls. The pad began to hum gently, heat spreading over Paige’s shoulder. Azzi pressed a blanket into her lap, then curled her knees up on the couch, her head resting lightly against Paige’s good shoulder.

“I missed you,” Azzi said eventually, voice quiet.

Paige looked down at her, eyes soft. “I missed you too.”

They stayed like that for a while. No words. Just warmth. Paige with the heating pad pressed gently against her shoulder and Azzi tucked beside her, legs curled up beneath her, body angled just slightly toward the blonde like she couldn’t help it. The kind of silence that wasn’t empty but full. Of unspoken things. Of things they hadn’t let themselves say for months.

Azzi’s thumb moved idly against the soft material of the blanket, mind tracing memories she wasn’t sure she had permission to keep anymore. She could feel Paige breathing—slow, steady—and she closed her eyes for a second, willing herself not to get swept back into whatever this always was between them. Almost something. Always something.

“You can stay, you know,” Paige murmured, voice low, rough around the edges.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. “I planned to.”

“No, I mean…” Paige turned slightly, wincing again. “Stay tonight. But like—not just sleep and go. Just… stay. For a while.”

Azzi tilted her head up, surprised. Paige never asked. Not for time. Not for company. She gave it when she had it, and then she was gone again—training, flying, media, whatever. But not this. Not her asking Azzi to stay.

“What’s that mean?” Azzi asked, soft but not tentative.

Paige looked away, lips pressing into a thin line before she answered.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Just… the apartment’s been quiet lately. And everything feels louder when it’s just me. But when you’re here, it’s… I don’t know. Easier.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. She wanted to be angry—because hadn’t she always been the one who stayed, while Paige let her? But then Paige shifted again, just slightly, and her fingers found Azzi’s beneath the blanket. Their hands slid together like puzzle pieces worn soft with time.

“I’ll stay,” Azzi said. “But I’m taking the good pillow.”

Paige let out a quiet laugh—more air than sound. “Deal.”

They ended up on the bed—not in the way they used to be, not tangled in each other or chasing heat in the dark—but side by side, Azzi having changed into her sleep shirt, Paige in a new hoodie that didn’t pull at her shoulder. The lamp on the nightstand cast a dull amber glow across the room, and somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, low and lazy against the late-night streets.

Azzi lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Paige mirrored her, though her eyes were on Azzi.

“Do you ever think we’re just… bad at timing?” Paige asked quietly.

Azzi blinked, surprised. “All the time.”

“And do you ever think…” She trailed off, her voice catching. “That maybe we’re only like this—when it’s broken. When we’re hurting.”

Azzi turned her head, their eyes meeting in the low light.

“No,” she said, firm but quiet. “I think that’s when we remember we need each other. That’s not the same thing.”

Paige didn’t respond right away, but her gaze didn’t drop. Eventually, she nodded, more to herself than anything else.

“Good,” she whispered. “’Cause I don’t want to forget.”

Azzi reached over and turned off the lamp. The room darkened, and the silence wrapped around them again.

This time, Paige was the one to move first—her good arm draping gently across Azzi’s waist, tentative, like she wasn’t sure she still had the right. Azzi didn’t say anything. She just scooted a little closer and laid her palm over Paige’s hand, grounding them there.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, they both fell asleep easily.

Together.

____

Azzi woke to sunlight.

It poured through the gaps in the curtains, soft and golden, casting faint lines across the white sheets and the wall beyond. For a second, she didn’t remember where she was. Then she shifted slightly, felt the gentle weight of an arm draped across her waist, and everything came rushing back.

Paige. The night. The way they’d just been—no performance, no boundaries, just bodies breathing in sync for the first time in too long.

Azzi blinked against the light, turning slightly to look at her.

Paige was still asleep. Her hair was mussed, falling softly over her forehead, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other looped around Azzi like it belonged there. Her expression was unguarded in sleep—lips parted slightly, brows soft, lashes casting little shadows against her cheeks.

Azzi didn’t move.

She didn’t want to.

Instead, she let herself study the woman she had loved in a thousand almosts. Paige always looked so invincible—on the court, in press photos, even just walking down the street in oversized sunglasses and a hoodie like she owned the sidewalk. But like this? With her body curled in the quiet of morning, shoulder still bruised beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt, hand twitching slightly in sleep—she looked real. And Azzi felt something twist in her chest because God, she was still so far gone.

Eventually, Paige stirred. Her fingers flexed gently against Azzi’s waist before her eyes blinked open, hazy and slow.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice rough with sleep.

Azzi smiled. “Hey.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The world hadn’t cracked open yet. No game plans. No studio deadlines. No red-eyes or sponsorship deals. Just the bed. The blankets. The echo of the night before lingering between them.

But then Paige’s phone buzzed.

Once. Twice. Then a third time—longer, insistent. Paige let out a groan, reaching out with her good arm to grab it from the nightstand.

Azzi rolled onto her back, letting her eyes fall to the ceiling as Paige squinted at the screen. There was a pause, and then—

“Hey,” Paige said, already sliding off the bed. “Gimme a sec. I just have to take this. It's my agent.”

Azzi’s stomach dropped, just a little.

She listened as Paige padded out of the bedroom, her socked feet quiet against the hardwood floor. The door stayed open—just enough that Azzi could hear her voice from the living room.

“Yeah, I know… No, I’m fine, just a small thing with the shoulder. I’ll be good by next week... Yeah, I can make it to LA for the shoot... That soon?”

Azzi closed her eyes.

Of course.

The bubble had to pop eventually. It always did.

She sat up slowly, running a hand through her curls, already matted from sleep. Her chest felt tight—not because Paige had done anything wrong, not really. But because it had been so easy, for just a moment, to believe they were building something new. Something that wouldn’t crack under distance or time zones or priorities that never seemed to align.

Paige's voice carried again, muffled but clear.

“I’ll talk to Azzi, yeah. I think we’re... figuring stuff out.”

Azzi froze.

That phrase—figuring stuff out—hit her in the gut more than it should’ve. She knew Paige meant well. She always did. But that was the problem. Paige always hovered in that middle ground. Never let herself name it. Never jumped in all the way.

Azzi wasn’t sure how many more almosts she could take.

She pulled her legs up onto the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to quiet the storm that had started brewing again. It was always like this—sweetness followed by the inevitable sting. Paige was a safe place until she wasn’t.

A few minutes later, Paige walked back in. Her face looked slightly flushed, like she knew the spell had broken too.

“Hey,” she said again, softer this time. “Sorry. It was about the Nike thing. They want to reshoot in LA next week.”

Azzi nodded but didn’t look at her.

“Cool,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

Paige hesitated by the doorway. “I didn’t know they’d move it up. I didn’t say yes yet.”

Azzi gave a tight smile. “You will.”

Another pause. Another silence that said more than either of them were ready to.

“I don’t want to leave things like they were before,” Paige said finally. “I want to figure this out. For real.”

Azzi looked up at her. Her eyes were tired, but steady.

“I need you to stop figuring,” she said gently. “And start choosing.”

Azzi left Paige’s apartment just after nine.

She didn’t say much when she slipped on her coat and gathered her things—just pressed a kiss to Paige’s cheek, lingering for a second longer than necessary. Paige had offered to drive her, but Azzi had gently declined. She said she needed air. What she didn’t say was that she needed space to think. To feel whatever it was she had been pushing down since the second Paige picked her up last night.

The morning was crisp, cool enough that the wind stung slightly when it hit her face. She clutched her small bag to her chest as she walked, head tucked low, letting the hum of the city wrap around her. Car horns. Distant sirens. A bike bell. A dog barking from somewhere nearby. All of it layered over itself like some gritty, living song.

She arrived at the small downtown office space she sometimes used with her creative team—a shared suite lined with plants and windows and half-finished lyrics taped to the walls. Azzi was the only one there this early, which she preferred. It was easier to be honest when no one was watching.

She dropped her bag onto the couch and made herself a coffee from the old French press someone had left behind months ago. The smell filled the room—warm, earthy, grounding.

Her laptop was already on the desk. Her notebook beside it. Pages dog-eared and ink-stained, full of scraps of songs that never quite found their endings.

She stared at the blank page in front of her.

For weeks, the words hadn’t come. Everything had felt too forced, too shallow. Every verse had read like she was trying to trick herself into caring. But this morning, something felt different. Not lighter, exactly—but sharper. Like everything was suddenly in focus. The way Paige had held her. The bruise across her shoulder. The way she had said “I think we’re figuring stuff out” like that was enough.

Azzi reached for her pen before she even realized what she was doing.

She didn’t start with a melody. Not even a verse. Just a single line, scrawled in her messy, looping handwriting:

“You only hold me when you’re aching.”

She paused, staring at it.

Then she kept writing.

“You only call when the silence hurts. I only answer when I’m breaking— we don’t love, we just revert.”

The words came like a slow tide, not a flood—but enough. Enough to feel like something inside her had loosened. Like maybe she didn’t have to wait around for Paige to choose her to start choosing herself.

The door creaked open softly about twenty minutes later, and her manager, Cam, poked his head in. “Hey. Didn’t expect you this early.”

Azzi didn’t look up. “Had a weird night.”

“Productive at least?” he asked, nodding at the notebook.

Azzi finally glanced up at him, a quiet fire in her eyes. “Starting to be.”

Cam gave a small, knowing smile. “That’s all we need.”

____ 

The hours blurred.

Azzi stayed hunched over her notebook, the coffee long gone cold on the desk beside her. She filled two pages before she even noticed her hand cramping slightly from how tightly she was gripping the pen. The words weren't perfect. Hell, some of the lines didn’t even rhyme. But they meant something. For the first time in weeks, it didn’t feel like she was trying to squeeze a feeling out of herself that wasn’t there.

It was already early afternoon by the time she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her wrist absently. She stared at the mess of her handwriting and felt… heavy, but clear. Like she was finally starting to tell the truth. Even if it hurt.

Her phone buzzed on the desk. She glanced at it, expecting some promo email or a spam call, but her stomach dropped when she saw the name:

Paige.

She hesitated.

Last night had been easy. Easier than it should’ve been. But this morning—watching Paige slip back into the life that had always pulled her away—it was like a cold hand wrapping around her chest again.

Still, Azzi picked up.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound casual.

“Hey, Az,” Paige's voice came through, a little breathless, a little uncertain. “Uh... what are you doing right now?”

Azzi glanced around the empty studio space—the sunlight slanting in through the high windows, the echoes of her own restless heart.

"Working," she said simply.

A beat of silence.

“Can I come by?”

Azzi closed her eyes for a second, pressing her fingers to her temple. Paige didn’t usually ask. She just showed up. Like she belonged in every version of Azzi’s life, no matter what.

“Yeah,” Azzi said after a long moment. “I’m downtown, same spot.”

Another pause.

“Okay. Be there in twenty.”

The call ended before Azzi could change her mind.

Twenty minutes later, the studio door creaked open again, and Paige stood there, looking strangely out of place in her sweats and scuffed sneakers, a black baseball cap tugged low over her brow. She had one of those giant iced coffees in hand, the condensation dripping down her fingers.

Azzi didn’t get up. She just raised an eyebrow.

Paige lingered in the doorway, like she wasn’t sure she was invited in after all.

“I brought you one too,” she said lamely, holding out a second drink.

Azzi took it but set it down on the table without tasting it.

Paige shuffled in a few steps, balancing against the table across the small room from Azzi. She looked hesitant, like she was ready to bolt at any second.

"I didn’t mean to make this morning weird," Paige said quietly.

Azzi just looked at her, the silence stretching thick between them.

"I just... I get scared," Paige continued, voice low. “Every time it feels good between us, I get scared. That I’m gonna mess it up. That I’ll choose wrong again. And then I do mess it up, because I’m thinking about it too much instead of just—" she broke off, dragging a hand through her hair. "Instead of just holding onto you."

Azzi swallowed hard, her throat thick.

"You always think you have time," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Paige blinked at her.

"You think you can figure it out later. After the season. After the shoot. After the next flight. But every time you leave, it’s harder for me to believe you’ll come back different."

Paige’s jaw tensed. Her hand twitched like she wanted to reach out, but she didn’t.

“I don’t know how to be good at this,” she said finally, brokenly. “But I don’t want to be good at it with anyone else.”

The rawness of it hit Azzi square in the chest.

She stood up, pushing her chair back with a small scrape of wood on concrete. Paige flinched, but Azzi didn’t move toward the door. She walked over to her guitar case instead, pulling it out of the corner of the room where it leaned, forgotten.

“I wrote something this morning,” Azzi said, adjusting the strap over her shoulder.

Paige straightened a little, hopeful, nervous.

Azzi sat on the edge of the couch and let her fingers fall naturally into the opening chords she’d started sketching out hours ago. The music was simple. Honest. A little rough. She hadn’t planned on sharing it with anyone yet.

But this? This was the only way she knew how to explain.

Her voice cracked slightly on the first line, but she kept going:

“You only hold me when you’re aching, you only call when the silence hurts… I only answer when I’m breaking, we don’t love, we just revert…”

When she finished, the room was so quiet she could hear the faint buzz of the old overhead lights.

Paige’s eyes were shining, but she didn’t say anything right away. She just crossed the space between them, slow and careful, and sat on the floor in front of Azzi, knees brushing hers.

“I don’t want to just revert anymore,” Paige said finally, voice raw. “I want to choose you.”

Azzi stared at her for a long moment, guitar still cradled against her ribs like armor. She wanted so badly to believe her. To fall into her the way she always had.

But this time, she needed Paige to prove it.

Not just say it.

Azzi set the guitar down carefully on the couch beside her.

For a second, she didn’t speak. She just let the silence settle between them, heavy but not unbearable. She studied Paige—really studied her. The way her cap was slightly crooked. The way she sat with her hands open on her knees, like she was offering something invisible, something fragile.

"I don't want to be the thing you run to when you're lonely," Azzi said finally, her voice soft but unflinching. "I want to be the thing you stay for."

Paige's lips parted slightly, like she was going to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded—small, almost imperceptible, but real.

"I can't..." Azzi exhaled, pressing the heels of her palms against her thighs. "I can't keep doing this half-way. The almosts. The almost home, almost love, almost enough." Her voice shook, just a little, but she kept going. "If you want me... reallywant me... you have to show up. Not when it's easy. Not when you miss me. Every day. Even when it's hard."

Paige’s throat worked as she swallowed.

"I can," she said, so quietly Azzi almost missed it. "I will."

Azzi stared at her, searching her face for any flicker of doubt. She found none. Just that raw, terrified honesty that Paige always tried to cover up with jokes and casual shrugs.

It hit Azzi then—how hard it must have been for her. To admit she didn’t know how to stay. To admit she was scared. Not of Azzi—never of her—but of what it meant to need someone so much.

Paige shifted closer on her knees, so their legs touched fully now.

"I’m scared," she whispered, eyes never leaving Azzi's. "But I’m more scared of losing you."

Azzi felt something crack wide open inside her.

Slowly, she reached out, letting her fingers brush along the edge of Paige’s jaw. Paige leaned into the touch immediately, her breath hitching.

"You’re not gonna lose me," Azzi murmured. "You just have to meet me here."

Paige closed her eyes like the words physically hurt. When she opened them again, they were glassy, full of something deep and endless.

"I love you," she said, voice trembling. "I love you, Az. I think I always have."

The world seemed to tilt around them. The studio, the city outside, the entire universe, all shrinking down to this—this tiny, infinite space between them.

Azzi’s breath caught. She didn’t say anything at first. She just leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Paige’s, their noses brushing.

And then, when she was sure her heart wouldn’t explode from how full it was, she whispered it back.

"I love you too."

It wasn’t a grand declaration. It wasn’t shouted from rooftops or stitched into a song yet. It was a promise made in the quiet, in the space between heartbreak and hope.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her hands finding Azzi’s and gripping tight.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. No more half-way.”

Azzi smiled, small but real.

“No more half-way.”

They stayed like that for a long moment—knees pressed together, hands locked, breathing the same air—before Azzi pulled Paige up onto the couch beside her. They sat tangled up in each other, the half-finished song still humming in the background of the day, like a promise they could finally start believing in.

____

For the first time in what felt like months, there was no rush between them. No ticking clock, no unspoken countdown to goodbye.

Paige stayed.

Not just physically, but really stayed.

After the weight of their confessions, Azzi expected a kind of awkwardness to set in—the kind that usually came after they said too much, after vulnerability cracked them open. But it didn’t. Instead, there was a lightness. A kind of tentative peace.

Azzi leaned back against the worn arm of the couch, legs stretched out over Paige’s lap. Paige didn’t seem to mind; she just absently traced small, lazy patterns along Azzi’s calf with her fingertips, like her hands needed to be touching her at all times now, just to make sure she was still there.

Azzi picked up her notebook again, thumbing through the pages. She wasn’t writing anymore, not really. Just letting herself exist in the space she and Paige had built here—messy, bruised, but somehow still standing.

Paige glanced around after a while, taking in the studio with fresh eyes. "You live here or something?" she teased gently, bumping Azzi’s leg with her knee.

Azzi smiled without looking up. "Feels like it sometimes."

"You should eat," Paige said after a beat, voice soft but a little firm in that way she got when she was pretending not to be worried. "You get weird when you don't eat."

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her amusement. "I’m fine."

"Nope. Not buying it. Come on."

Before Azzi could protest, Paige was shifting her legs carefully off her lap and standing. She stretched—arms overhead, shirt riding up slightly to reveal a flash of tan skin—and then offered Azzi her hand.

Azzi hesitated for just a second before taking it.

They walked a few blocks to a tiny corner deli Azzi liked, one that Paige always pretended was “too sketchy” but secretly loved because they made the best egg sandwiches in the city.

Inside, it smelled like bacon grease and fresh bagels. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. Azzi ordered a sandwich with avocado and turkey bacon; Paige got a greasy, overstuffed BLT and a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

They sat by the window, the city sprawling out in front of them, afternoon sun glinting off car roofs and apartment windows.

Paige unwrapped her sandwich sloppily and took a huge bite. Azzi laughed under her breath as the blonde tried—and failed—to keep tomato from sliding out the side.

"You’re a mess," Azzi said, shaking her head.

Paige just grinned, mouth full. "You love it."

Azzi ducked her head, blushing. "Unfortunately."

They ate in easy silence for a while, trading bites, stealing sips from each other’s iced coffees without asking. Paige doodled on a napkin with a blue pen she pulled from her pocket—terrible little stick figures of the two of them, complete with what she claimed were guitars and basketballs.

Azzi snorted when she saw the final product. "You’re artistically challenged."

"Hey," Paige protested, mock-offended. "That’s our album cover right there."

Azzi smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.

She couldn’t remember the last time it had been this easy. The last time she hadn’t been waiting for Paige to look at her phone or check the time or make some excuse to leave.

Paige was just... here. With her.

Choosing her.

When they finished eating, Paige reached across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from the corner of Azzi’s mouth. It was such a small thing, such a nothing thing—and yet it made Azzi’s heart stutter painfully in her chest.

Paige’s hand lingered, fingers sliding lightly along Azzi’s jaw, like she couldn’t help herself.

"I meant it," she said, voice low, almost shy. "What I said before."

Azzi caught her hand, holding it there against her cheek.

"I know," she whispered.

And for the first time in a long, long while—Azzi let herself believe it.

____

By the time they made it to Azzi’s apartment, choosing the brunettes place tonight for a change of scenery, the sky had deepened into a soft purple, city lights starting to flicker awake.

Paige kicked off her sneakers by the door without thinking, like it was second nature, and Azzi trailed behind her, dropping her bag with a muted thud.

The apartment still smelled faintly of vanilla candles and Azzi’s floral shampoo—the comforts of home—but the energy was different now. Calmer. More theirs somehow, not just Azzi’s.

Paige wandered into the living room, picking up one of Azzi’s records from the perfectly neat vinyl shelf. She turned it over in her hands, then shot Azzi a soft smile over her shoulder.

"Want me to put something on?"

Azzi nodded, already toeing off her Uggs and tugging her oversized sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in a simple ribbed tank top underneath. She plopped down onto the couch, curling her legs underneath her, watching as Paige carefully slid a record onto the player.

Soft, crackling acoustic guitar filled the room—the kind of music that made everything slow down, even time.

Paige dropped down onto the couch beside her, not bothering with any distance this time. Their thighs pressed together naturally, warmly. Paige let out a quiet sigh, her body relaxing into the cushions.

They sat there for a few minutes, just breathing, the music wrapping around them like a blanket. Azzi leaned her head against Paige’s shoulder without thinking about it, and Paige turned slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of her head.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate or tinged with fear like it used to be. It was steady. Sure.

Azzi closed her eyes, letting herself melt into the feeling.

"I miss this," she murmured into Paige’s sweatshirt. "I miss us."

Paige's hand found hers, fingers intertwining with a kind of quiet reverence.

"We’re right here," Paige whispered back.

After a while, Azzi shifted so she was tucked completely against Paige's side, her hand splayed over Paige’s heart. She could feel the steady thud beneath her palm, grounding her.

"You know," Paige said after a long stretch of silence, her voice low and a little sheepish, "I still have that stupid necklace you gave me before my rookie season."

Azzi pulled back just enough to look up at her. "The one with the little A on it?"

Paige flushed a little, nodding. "Yeah. I keep it in my bag. Even when I'm traveling. Even when... when we weren't really talking. It just—felt wrong to leave it behind."

Azzi's heart clenched so painfully she thought she might cry.

"You're such a sap," she whispered, blinking quickly.

Paige smiled, slow and crooked and full of everything she never used to say out loud.

"For you? Always."

Azzi ducked her head again, letting her forehead rest against Paige’s collarbone. They stayed like that, breathing each other in, the record turning lazily in the background.

At some point, Azzi must have drifted off because when she blinked her eyes open again, the room was darker, the only light coming from the window where the city glittered beyond the glass.

Paige had adjusted them at some point, laying them down properly along the couch. Azzi was half on top of her, one arm thrown across Paige’s middle, their legs tangled together. Paige’s hand was still rubbing slow, lazy circles against Azzi’s back, her breathing even and steady.

Azzi shifted a little, burying her face deeper into Paige’s sweatshirt.

“Stay,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Paige pressed another soft kiss to her hair, whispering against her curls, "Always."

Azzi smiled into Paige’s chest, her whole body sinking into the kind of peace she hadn’t felt in what felt like a lifetime.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[retiredteabag]

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, anxiety, college!au

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - next part

One thing was for sure about the past weekend, and that was the fact that your advisor knew not to assign you any future classes with this monster of a man.

You had three finals coming up, one of which came in the form of a presentation. And you had yet to practice said presentation and your partner scheduled that particular event at the most inconvenient of times. The whole endeavor was drawing a lot of your current anxiety. Of course, you didn't ask to reschedule.

You had looked over the combination of slides in your PowerPoint, waiting by the day for Sukuna to finalize his speaker notes, and everyday your distress only grew.

It was not uncommon for the dunning kruger effect to take hold of the arrogant men in your lectures. He may have brought up concerns about your own public speaking ability, but you have yet to see the man speak in full sentences before anyone.

Over inflated head, self-important, Oscar Wilde level egomaniac-

The class's presentations were split into two groups; the first half of the class would present on Thursday, and the latter half, on Friday. You were one of the unfortunate teams that would go first.

The nerves were getting to the point of being sickening every time you passed the auditorium. The hollow heartbeat swelled in your chest and you felt nauseated. Too soon, you would be in there, on that stage, stood beside that arrogant prick.

Being one of the first groups to speak might be better than having to be last; just get it over with... still, it wasn't great for gauging the audience, competition, or topics.

You were to present before the faculty, classmates, and employers looking for interns.

Maybe Sukuna had been correct. Yes, you could be "anal about this stuff", sure, but you had put too much money into your education to not put in equal effort. Since when was it a crime to try?

For the fifth time that week, you looked over his slides...still, no speaker notes on the later half.

He did look like the type to wing it. Read the SparkNotes and assume he could sound intellectual with the insertion of pauses and emphasis on basic information. For a normal assignment, a professor might be non the wiser, but for something as important as this final? He needed to know his stuff.

And what then, if he was asked a question? What if he didn't prepare? What if he crashed and burned? The smoke would affect you too.

That's why you find yourself waiting inside a private study room in the library that Wednesday. You had arrived right on time to the room you had reserved and were unpacking the contents of your bag when a pack of giggling students retched the door open.

There was a moment of silence that passed between all before you cleared your throat, "Sorry...I reserved this room..." the group looked around at each other, making pouty faces.

Eventually one of them spoke up, "Do you really need it?" They all shared a pitiful look, "Theres a lot more of us, we really need the room..."

You stood there for a moment, expecting someone in their friend group to have a speck of sense. It quickly became clear that none of them did, "Right... well, I'm sorry but I need the room too."

"Every other room is reserved by a group, this room is just you." One of them pointed out, speaking far too loudly to have the door open to the library stacks.

"I'm here to work with my project partner." You huffed, as if that made a difference. The room was yours! There was no way you were going to back down. You would be presenting tomorrow and needed a space to practice. "That's why I reserved the space."

They make faces as if you have committed some kind of hate crime, throwing their arms in the air in offense. "Your partner isn't even here, can't we just use it? You could literally go anywhere else."

The group nods at the boy who spoke up, fully supporting his argument as if he just slam-dunked you with a killer 2AR. You sigh looking down to check the time on your phone. If Sukuna wasn't here, you might as well just leave. Who’s to say he’ll come anyway?

You weigh your options, he hadn’t responded to your email this time either.

"Pretty sure it's you who can go anywhere else."

He wasn't loud, but his voice rang with conviction. Speak of the devil. You look away from your watch and observe his effect on the group.

Sukuna pulled the door back wider, he stood at least a head taller than the largest among them, and while he was never found with a smile on his face anyway, he looked particularly harsh in this moment.

"Can't we just-" one of the girls leaned into Sukuna, grabbing his bicep, "take the room?" She smiled sweetly, tracing an index finger over his arm, "There's a lot of us, you know?"

Sukuna practically jolts off of her, tearing his arm out of her grasp, and making a twisted face in the group's direction. "Get offa me." He moves through the rest of the students, tossing his bag onto the table with a bang.

You make brief eye contact before he watches you turn to see the pack of freshmen resolutely standing in the doorway. He swings back, rolling his eyes, "Now get out."

There wasn't any room for argument in his tone. The lot of them huffed and griped but made no real fuss as they crossed their arms and whispered insults. The door slowly slid shut.

You plug your laptop into the adapter, muttering, "Good to see you've finally showed up."

"I didn't have an attitude when you were late to the library."

He just stands there. Unzipping his bag on the ovular table in front of the projector.

You look at him, recalling that day well, you want to snip at him again but you cant help the short, somewhat shocked, laugh you let out.

He walks to the other side of the room, pulls out his notebook and looks at the screen. "So are we practicing, or what?"

"Oh, we're practicing, all right." You mutter to yourself.

You bring out the sheet from the first week you met in the library. It outlined the topics that each of you would need to cover. You open up the PowerPoint and turn to look at him, comfortably sitting down.

"We should probably start with introductions."

"We roleplaying this?" He sat with his legs spread on the swivel chair, arms crossed.

"You were the one who asked to practice." You point out, motioning for him to get up. "At the presentation, the students will have nametags, but we should still open up with a greeting so they know who to call on for questions."

He sighs, lifting himself from his seat like it took a great effort, he stood beside you, looking to his mock audience, he points to himself,

"Sukuna, Ryomen." Then he turns to look at you, jutting out his thumb in your direction, and as if it is the most natural thing in the world, calls out your full name.

It was so strange, you got caught searching for words. You had no idea he knew your name. If there was one thing obvious about Sukuna, it was his blatant dislike of his peers. It wasn't uncommon to see him rolling his eyes, or avoiding the fellow students that followed him around all the time.

"Right, okay, we'll smooth out that part later, for now, lets focus on the first few slides." You lean down and point out the screen of your laptop, "I'll go first. I’ll give my thesis as a roadmap for my information, then you can do yours."

You turn your face to the side, expecting him to still be standing behind you, listening to your explanation, but pull back in alarm to find his face right beside yours, he was focused on what you were pointing out on the slide.

You jolt back, taking a moment to regain your thoughts, "…I’ll get into my half and allow for a segway into yours.” He follows your motion, standing straight. “We'll have clickers.” You continue, “Let's just say that whoever finishes explaining the slide will be responsible for clicking to the next one, okay?"

He was so watchful, it was unnerving. Had he always been like this? Seeming bored, he gives you a nod. "Sure."

The following two hours flew by. It was actually nice to not have to dance around issues, you could be confrontational and know he wouldn't get offended. He was well versed in his area of the presentation, easily paraphrasing what he wanted people to grasp from his slides. It wasn't until he sat down, asking you to present for him that you started having issues.

"What?" He leaned back in his chair, spinning slightly, "Give your speech, do it like I'm the audience."

"No." You huff, "not if you don't." You point at him.

"I'll do it, but you go first, you we're the one who wanted to start us off anyway." He’s brought this on you somewhat out of nowhere.

You look around the room, feeling suddenly anxious. You had practiced both you and Sukuna’s parts to the point of near memorization. You had recorded your speaker notes and listened to them before bed nightly. You knew what to say. But you were feeling suddenly…shy?

"Don't act like I've put you on the spot," He waves a hand, "We're here to practice."

"I know." You look at your shoes, feeling small, stupid. It was embarrassing to have him watch you. He just screamed judgment. You huff, "Fine. Turn around."

He looked almost insulted at the notion. "What? No."

"Would you just do it?"

Assuming he wouldn’t complain, you wait for him to turn. He just squints at you,"I knew you worried over nothing but do you have stage fright too or something?" Sukuna leans down, elbows on his knees.

You didn't really know what the issue was. Performing on stage, you could probably disassociate long enough to not feel so uncomfortable, but here, alone, with only his eyes to see you, it was different somehow. "No...maybe... I don't know."

"Well." He shrugs, "Now's a great time to shake off those nerves. Go on, I'm sure you have all your information down."

He motions your way, and you force yourself to go over your work, starting from the top. You try to focus on your cadence, intonation, and scripted pauses from your recording. You turn to look in the corner of the room, mimicking the intentional body language you had meticulously practiced in front of your bathroom mirror.

You spent the time expressing what you would say rather than pretending to teach him. Having already used the room for hours, you simply focused on the main points of contention, explaining your slides with practiced ease. Once you finished, you moved onto his starting slide and cantered passed him to one of the opposing chairs.

He did not take your cue, getting up to present, however, opting instead to open his body language, "I woulda thought you had a script in front of you."

"Like you said, I actually know my information." You snark, huffing out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. Starting to become tired and stressed at the idea of the upcoming exams.

He simply rolled his eyes as the suggestion that he might not, "You can't make eye contact."

He was speaking as if stating a fact. Your brows furrow, having been doing exactly that what he said you apparently couldn’t do. "When you're presenting, you don’t look at me" He continues. "It's weird, you have no problem with watching people but when you know that someone is watching you, you can't seem to acknowledge it."

Your mouth twists into a mock smirk; he reminded you in that moment of your previous first-year psych student roommate, who genuinely believed themself a genius among feckless plebs.

"When we're on stage, we won't be making eye contact with anyone really-" You were about to defend yourself before being interrupted.

"See. You’re doing it again. You can't look at me." He narrows an accusing finger in your general direction. Moving to stand, he grabs the clicker off the table and shifts into a teasing tone. "Here's how it's done."

You were still somewhat reeling from him pointing out a habit you didn't even know you were taking part in. Wondering suddenly if others had noticed it and if so, why nobody had said anything.

You felt suddenly irked and wanted to prove to him that, no, you very well could make intentional eye contact with someone making a point to notice you.

It was a grueling task, and, as you would find out, your brain seemed to be sending every 'I am uncomfortable' signal to your body while attempting it. You couldn't seem to stop swallowing, voluntarily blinking, or forcefully making your hands stop moving.

All these small tasks took up some serious mental effort but despite that, you were still able to take in his oratory skills.

For a man so lacking in the interpersonal communication sphere, he presented with poise, confidence, and knowledge on his subject. He paced himself well and it almost seemed as though his speech was conducted in a way that made note-taking ideal. He seemed aware of his space and motioned accordingly.

When he wasn't gesturing or looking back at the slides, he was looking at you, as if he was lecturing you with the information you had tirelessly slaved over when studying his speaker notes.

And on the topic of speaker notes? He totally strayed from them! He didn't even follow the same roadmap that you had seen nights before. You hated it, but none could deny, he was still a compelling speaker. You couldn't make a sensible complaint because of how undeniably well he spoke.

Besides, what kind of anal, control-freak, dictator of a school partner memorized someone else's speaker notes?

The issue arose in you suddenly that Sukuna doesn't need to make an effort like you do. He doesn't care to, he simply has the confidence in himself. He seemed to hold no anxiety and no care for how he was perceived. The only issue was, these types often flunked out of school, and here he was thriving.

While he wrapped up his slides, he crossed his arms over his chest, pointedly looking your way.

You think back to your previous interactions, Sukuna must see himself as so terribly generous, allowing you the time of day to practice with him. He likely thought the concept stupid. And worse? His efforts didn't ease your nerves, and they did not qualm your worries.

Your thoughts are cut off by the brisk striking of his knuckles on the table. You look up at him, "Get out of your thoughts." He slides past you to his bookbag, putting away a notebook. "We're in good shape."

You aren't sure what to say. You don't feel like you're in good shape but you don't want to discourage him, not that you thought it possible for him.

Before he slips out of the door, you turn to him, "I'm going to send you a list of mock questions so you can prepare some answers." He wouldn’t look at the email, you were sure.

He snorted a laugh, "Good to know you were paying attention."

And he was gone.

--

Sukuna was not terribly fond of school, that is, in the typical sense. He did enjoy learning and was dedicated to his area of study, sure, but being around people? He found it exhausting.

You hadn't stuck out to him, but it was hard to not notice you. You sat in the front of every single lecture, pristinely on time. You were one of the students that the professor felt inclined to call on. And he saw you in the library, often.

It was not until he had been enlisted as your partner for the practicum that he started to see why you had taken his notice.

At first, he shook it off, thinking himself crazy, but after three sessions in the library, it was clear what it was. You reminded him of someone.

You were just like his nephew.

Wednesdays and Fridays in the library, you would be rambling on about something, going over the expectations for the project draft, explaining the sources you wanted him to utilize, and he would be listening, sure, but he would be seeing Yuuji.

The little boy was a little shit, and despite being wildly more extroverted that yourself, he too was nervous about everything.

Sukuna was like a second parent to the boy, and as much as he would complain, he wouldn't change it for a thing.

It was weird, to see the kid in you. At first he stocked you up as a try-hard, but in reality, he assumes you're just scared. You really are just like that little boy.

--

You did not sleep well last night. You got to bed early but you simply couldn't slip away. And when you finally did pass over into restless sleep, you were promptly woken up by your own hyperactive consciousness.

You checked the clock each time. Had you really set that alarm? You would go over your script and the more you did, the sicker you felt. You craved more time to practice, you craved for your body to stop jittering with nerves, you craved to just fall asleep damn it!

After a few more hours of waking only to have found rest in literal minute increments, you arose. Dressed yourself and began to get ready.

Everything around you spoke of a good day, the weather was perfect, you looked great, and you had all the rehearsed information at the ready.

Still, internally, you couldn't reach peace.

Once you arrived at the auditorium, you spotted your professor and retrieved your nametag from him. Sukuna was no where to be found which only added to your panic. You paced in the box, the private room for speakers, behind the theater, and repeatedly touched your hair.

Even with potential hours to go, you were feeling overwhelmed, you were at the point of wishing you could just go first and be done with it all.

You were squeezing water out of a thin paper towel and placing it on your neck when the door creaked open.

You flipped to him, "Where have you been?!" You hissed.

You had plenty of time before you would be introduced but you couldn't hide the frustration in your voice.

Sukuna was dressed in a Mandarin suit, he looked perfectly relaxed and the notion only fueled your anger. "I had a class..."

He comes forward and sets his (backup) flash drive on the circular table in the middle of the loge. "Well, why didn't you say that before?” You make an exasperated face and feel your heartbeat quicken, “And where is your nametage?"

Even you could hear the hysterical twinge in your voice, you took a deep breath and told yourself to relax. He didn't say anything, just raised his brows while reaching behind to retrieve the very thing from his back pocket.

Embarrassed, you tear the makeshift cloth from your neck and rush to sit on the couch. You scrap the towel to shreds before disposing of it.

"Everything's in order, we'll be alright." He didn't come to join you on the sofa but watched from the side of the box. He didn’t sound comfortable but he certainly seemed to believe his own words.

"It doesn't even really matter." You had been telling yourself this very thing for weeks when someone took notice of how concerned you were. Not a part of you believed it but you hoped the phrase would ease your mind anyway.

"Oh, it matters." Sukuna laughed.

You wanted to be mad, but in all reality, he was just saying what you knew, him lying would not have comforted you. He started to come over now.

"It just isn't so important that you need to kill yourself over it." You rolled your eyes, knowing what he was saying.

"If we bomb, then that's that, so what?" He tossed his hands up slightly.

You looked at him, and without even needed to study his face, you knew he meant it. He believed it. ‘So what?’ You roll the words around in your brain, shaking your head. You couldn't have stopped the words from escaping.

"I hate people like you." You mutter it, undertones of a laugh there, nothings amusing. "Seriously, I hate how you can just say that."

He isn't mad. The bastard grins, "Oh, trust me, I know."

And then he’s leaving the room. You don't have much time to wonder about what exactly he was doing. You hadn’t thought he would be upset at your declaration. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been thinking when you said it.

What had he meant, that he knew? I guess a guy like him just assumes everyone who isn’t perfectly relaxed at all times is a suck up.

When he returned, he was carrying water bottles and complimentary fruit from outside the auditorium doors. This time around he does come sit, right next to you.

"Have some."

You don't feel thirst but you still accept it when he cracks open the bottle for you. He places the fruit on the table before you both and takes a drink himself.

"I didn't really mean that, I'm just jealous of how you live." He's leaned back and his suit pants clung to his legs.

He purses his lips and shifts his head from side to side, smirking, Mmm, I don't know, I think you actually meant it."

You both chuckle, the nerves are still getting to you. "I still hate you for what you did earlier this semester." You lighten your voice but glance his way to show you do mean it.

He turns his head now, brow raised but still comfortably leaning against the back of the couch. "What did I do earlier this semester?"

You laugh, rolling your eyes. It takes him a moment before he sees you’re not gonna reply, "No, what did I do?"

"The whole beginning of this project." You muse. He still isn't catching what you're saying so you motion with your hands. "Our meetings, in the library? You never told me you were top of the class."

“Should I go out and advertise it?" He clearly isn't getting what you mean.

"No, Sukuna, it sucks because you never told me that you were well versed in the class material.” He still doesn’t seem to grasp the issue, “I’m saying, it made me feel stupid to find out that the guy I thought I was tutoring was actually competing with me."

"It made you feel stupid?"

"In a way. Like you were mocking me."

Sukuna frowns, he leans onto his knees. "I wasn't mocking you."

"You say that." You poke his shoulder and he looks at you quizzically.

In all actuality, it was nice to be able to tell him these things, you didn't feel that anger anymore. As of it had rolled off, only shame lingered.

"I never minded our sessions in the library. I guess it made things easier, you're so..." he reaches for the word,

“Anal?” You recount when he had called you that very thing.

He rolls his eyes, "Organized."

"Thanks." Your voice is low, sarcastic.

He shrugs. Some of the nerves have left you, but suddenly you're hearing voices in the auditorium, one specifically telling people to file in through the doors, and you know you'll be speaking soon.

He turns to look at you again, legs parallel to your own, his palms flat on his thighs, "You care too much about what others think."

He's doing that thing, that I'm-going-to-make-intentional-eye-contact-with-you-and-it-will-be-an-unspoken-comeptition-to-prove-you-can't-do-it thing.

"Maybe you're too carefree." You offer silently.

Soon, someone will come through the doors before you with mic packs and you'll have tape on your face. Your heart pounds. "You should feel okay without having to prove that you’re worthy of validation from others."

He reaches forward for his water bottle, voices can be heard above you, to your sides. People are taking their seats. "You're a smart girl."

And for the second time this week, he says your name and it feels just as strange as it had that first time. "And you didn't have to prove it for me to see it."

And with everything else occurring in this moment, you feel the most upset about the fact that the obnoxious Sukuna Ryomen might just bring unshed tears to your eyes.

You’re silent as you stand, brushing unseen dust off your clothing. Sukuna is stood there by the door that leads to the area behind the stage, his hand is outstretched.

You look around frantically, turning to find his clicker that he must have left on the table, but before you can start searching, he scoffs.

He leans forward and grabs your arm, spinning you gently. He robotically shows you his hand again and places your own in it.

Oh.

He tightens his encompassing palm around your own and makes a tugging sensation to pull you ahead of him through the door he held open.

People in the tech crew were setting everything up and called you each over to get your mics on.

When he lets you go, your hand twitches involuntarily.

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his hand. And for some reason, you couldn’t think of much else as you got mic’d up, despite the ever growing voiced in the audience.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57 @p1nkfl0wers @giasssslife @csolya @esmedelacroix @sukubusss @v1sque @clp-84 @snowsilver2000 @blueemochii @bitchyfestivalbouquet @rodeorun @chosolovrrr @minethy

(if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either because your blog is new/blank/empty where you need to check your privacy settings.) :[

[wanderingmind867]

Rick Riordan puts a scene with Nico and Jason back to back with a scene starring Nico and Will. And these scenes sort of demonstrate why I prefer Jason x Nico to Nico x Will (don't ask where Jason x Leo fit in, since I love them too. Let's put that aside for now). Will and Nico first:

"You're so dense," Will noted. "I hope you got over that nonsense about leaving Camp Half-Blood." "I - yeah. I did. I mean, I'm staying." "Good. So you may be dense, but you're not an idiot." "How can you even talk to me like that? Don't you know I can summon zombies and skeletons and -" "Right now you couldn't summon a wishbone without melting into a puddle of darkness, di Angelo," Will said. "I told you, no more Underworld-y stuff, doctor's orders. You owe me at least three days of rest in the infirmary. Starting now."

Is this romantic? I mean… I've never actually felt romantic attraction in real life, but is calling someone dense and never using their first name a sign of love? And calling their idea to leave nonsense? This is love? I… I really don't think it is. This feels more like a condescending, argumentative relationship between two people who barely know each other. They feel like they'd become frenemies, not lovers. And I say that with all due respect to people who like Will Solace. I don't want to make enemies of his fans, since I don't actually hate him. Do I dislike 90% of his lines? Yeah. Do I hate him like I hated Luke? No. Oh, hells no. Will is okay. Not great, but okay. I just don't see romance between these two in the cards. It doesn't make much sense to me.

Now, here's Jason and Nico's scene:

"You've got a point." He straightened his glasses. "Look, Nico, the reason I wanted to you…I know what you said back at Auster's palace. I know you already turned down a place at Camp Jupiter. I-I probably can't change your mind about leaving Camp Half-Blood, but I have to -" "I'm staying." Jason blinked. "What?" "At Camp Half-Blood. The Hades Cabin needs a head counselor. Have you seen the decor? It's disgusting. I'll have to remodel. And someone needs to do the burial rites properly, since demigods insist on dying heroically." "That's - That's fantastic! Dude!" Jason opened his arms for a hug, then froze. "Right. No touching. Sorry." Nico grunted. "I suppose we can make an exception." Jason squeezed him so hard Nico thought his ribs would crack. "Oh, man," Jason said. "Wait till I tell Piper. Hey, since I'm all alone in my cabin too, you and I can share at table at the dining hall. We can team up for capture the flag and sing-along contests and -" "Are you trying to scare me away?" "Sorry. Sorry. Whatever you say Nico. I'm just glad." The funny thing was, Nico believed him.

There. Now, Isn't that way better? Hugs, respect for boundaries, two lonely people finally finding each other… there's so much in Jason and Nico's relationship that makes me feel happy. Rick Riordan may not have wanted them to be his same sex couple, but they're the ones that should've gotten together. Will should've been Nico's friend/friendly rival or something. But Jason and Nico have a bond beyond words. I… I legitimately can't describe it. But this type of romance works because it wasn't designed to be a romance. It's just…love. The fact that these two love each other so unconditionally… I want what they have. I don't feel ashamed of saying that. Because what they have is beautiful.

[c0renswet]

Next Time (scott miller x reader) part II - 18+ MDNI

warnings: sexual tension, swearing, scott being scott, not enemies but not friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, eventual smut (soon i promise)

a/n: so sorry it took me so long to get back to this!! i’ve been so busy with personal stuff. just bear with me as i get caught up :)

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests are on my pinned post :)

part one | part three

The few days after Scott had paid you his midnight visit to your motel room were awkward. More awkward than usual. You didn’t think the tension between the two of you could get any worse, but it did.

Scott seemed to be in a weird mood when he was around you. He’d practically stopped talking to you altogether, unless it was to communicate during a chase. The silences lasted forever and were more uncomfortable than they’d ever been. You hated to admit that you missed his snarky comments.

You tried to ask him what was wrong but you’d always be met with silence. You gave up.

Tonight, though, you hoped things would be different. Javi had invited some of the crew out for drinks, including you and Scott.

Since you were on the road, you didn’t have anything super nice to wear. You did what you could, putting on a simple t-shirt and jeans. This wasn’t your first time going out with the crew, but there was something in the back of the mind that you couldn’t quite figure out.

Your phone dinged and you picked it up, a text from Javi appearing on the screen.

Be ready in 5. I’ll meet you downstairs.

You typed out a response and finished getting ready. You made your way downstairs, butterflies starting to twirl in your stomach.

Javi was waiting, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey, ready to head out?”

You smiled back at him.

“Yeah, where’s the rest of the guys?”

“They’ll meet us there.”

You walked with Javi to his Storm Par truck. You opened the passenger side door and climbed in. It’d been a while since you’d been in here. It was nice to be in a vehicle other than the SUV you shared with Scott. Javi climbed into the driver’s side, starting the truck.

“Have you noticed something up with Scott?”

Javi inquired.

You were surprised, you didn’t think anyone else had noticed Scott’s weird mood.

“Yeah.”

You swallowed.

“What’s going on?”

Javi looked at you.

“Not sure. He’s been like that for a few days.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, you didn’t want to mention that Scott had given you shit after the chase you were wrong about, or the fact that he’d come to your door in the middle of the night.

Javi shrugged but didn’t push the conversation. He pulled into the parking lot of a small bar, parking next to Scott’s SUV. The butterflies in your stomach intensified. You got out of the truck and took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself before going inside.

—

Javi and the rest of the crew had left the table you and Scott were at. They were off somewhere playing pool and darts, typical bar stuff that you weren’t interested in. Scott sat across from you. He hadn’t talked to you much, other than a few acknowledgements.

The alcohol had melted away your nervousness. So you asked him again.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?”

You broke the uncomfortable silence.

Scott looked at you, those menacing blue eyes fixed into yours. His hair was brushed nicely, dark curls framing his face perfectly. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans. You were drunk but you had to admit that he looked good, really good.

“Scott. I know something is up. Talk to me.”

You pushed him. You were tired of his silence.

His jaw clenched, something in his eyes darkened as he looked at you. He studied you, eyes moving over you like he was looking for something.

“Scott.”

You wanted to beg, plead for a response from him. But you kept your composure.

Scott stood up, you weren’t sure what he was doing until he grabbed your arm, making you stand up.

“What-”

He looked around to make sure none of the others were paying attention before he pulled you with him into a bathroom. Scott slammed the door behind the two of you, making sure it was locked before he turned to face you.

“What the hell, Scott?”

You snapped at him, even though you weren’t exactly sure why you were mad.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed your face. He wasn’t rough with his touch, but it was enough to make you be quiet.

“You wanna know what’s wrong with me? Hm?”

He spit the words out. You looked at him. His eyes were dark, sky blue covered by a dark cloud. His eyes matched the skies that you loved chasing.

“It’s you. You. I went to your room that night wanting you to let me in. I can’t get you out of my head. Since I met you, since Javi put you with me… fuck, you’re intoxicating.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Scott’s lips met yours before you could. He kissed you rough, deep; full of heat and desire. Scott pushed you up against the wall behind you, his body so close to yours you could feel his warmth.

You kissed him back, meeting his desire with your own. You realized what was in the back of your mind for so long, it was him. You longed for him. You snapped out of your thoughts when Scott’s lips met your neck, gently sucking on the areas that made your knees weak. Your skin was flushed and you felt so warm.

“Scott..”

“Shhh.”

Scott mumbled against your skin. His voice was deep, filled with lust. You loved it.

Scott pulled away from you, and suddenly his warmth was gone. You whined instinctively, wanting his touch.

“Not here.”

Scott collected himself, his face flushed and lips swollen from kissing you.

He turned to open the door, but you stopped him.

“Scott, come to my room tonight. I’ll let you in.”

Scott smirked at you, opening the door.

“I’ll take you back to the motel. Javi’s hammered.”

Scott walked out. You waited a few minutes before leaving the bathroom, trying to find Javi. You found him at the bar, laughing with some of the guys from the crew.

“Javi-”

“Heyyyy, y/n! Where’ve you been?”

Javi laughed, his words slurred.

“Scott’s gonna take me back to the motel. Text me if you need me to come get you.”

Javi looked at you, but it was almost as though he didn’t process anything you’d said. He took a moment to respond.

“Right on! Thank him for me.”

Javi smiled and went back to talking with the guys. You shook your head as you walked away. Scott was waiting for you by the door.

“So, you’ll let me in, huh?”

Scott held the door open for you as you walked out.

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

You winked at him, getting in the passenger seat of the familiar SUV.

—

@rossylightwood asked to be tagged <3

[devotedfem]

Isn't a threat a promise? - Part II

Synopsis: Where you're an assassin hired to finish the mysterious and poweful gang of seven eccentric men, but you're oblivious of how unpunishable and untouchable they were. You were bred to kill, but they were bred to rule over the mafia. They will break little by little your mind, reminding you that not even a hired assassin can beat them.

BTS OT7 x f. Reader

3.8K words.

Genre: Mafia and hitman au | Enemies to lovers | yander-ish.

Tags for this chapter: Organized crime, mafia BTS, hired assassin reader, hidden identity, fake identity and name, Bangtan breaking reader's mind slowly, panic attacks, anxiety, threats of abuse, non consensual touch, they watched and stalk reader like hawks, obsessive and yandere tendencies, power dynamic, more lies, reader's not just an assassin but an actress too. Be careful while reading, it's pretty triggering at the end.

Series masterlist.

Navigation Masterlist.

Chapters: I, II, III, IV.

SECOND BULLET II:

. . . . . . .

You stand in front of your wall, watching all the pinned photos of Bangtan with a red string connecting all of them. The string was bonding their faces with natal cities, possible families or relatives, and also, schools, universities and friends they might have in their past.

You were collecting information since yesterday. You started your investigation as soon as you got home after meeting them. You didn’t sleep at all, but lucky for you, you had some friends that were hackers and computer programmers that helped you to get more information about Bangtan’s past.

It wasn’t easy to try to discover their past, in fact, there is a big void of information about them. Just two of them had social media years ago, now inactive; belonging to Jimin and Jungkook, the others don’t have many information about them on the internet.

They were like ghosts, not that it surprises you though. It was pretty common to not find many information about the people working in this business. But even though, they usually have some kind of digital footprint, unless they faked their dead to exist as someone else, as some ghost with no past.

“What are you guys hiding that forced you to getting erased from earth,” you muttered to yourself, with your fingers on your chin and eyes narrowed at the wall.

This was becoming even more interesting than before. Not many targets of yours acted like shadows hiding their identity, that was your job. You were breed for this type of life, for lying and killing. You have no digital footprint and no real identity attached to you. You were a ghost, but so were they.

Filth lures filth. But the similarities and the challenges only made you even more excited.

The real mystery was; why were they erased from life? Why did they bother if they were just a small criminal organization, one that doesn’t have a lot of enemies.

Hiding and faking deaths were for spies only -for hitmen-, not gang members.

You bit your bottom lip watching every bit of information you have collected. Nothing about that information was certain or proved to be true, they were just assumptions.

Your phone ringing pulled you out of your thoughts, you frowned when you saw Jungkook’s name on your screen, but you answered the call anyway.

“Yes?” You didn’t even say hello, it was rude to call at three in the morning. But you were also curious of why was he calling you.

“Uhm hi, I’m-I’m sorry for calling you this late, I just… uhm, I need your help, it’s really important.” He stuttered, sounding hesitant of your reaction.

You hummed at his words, glancing at his pictured pinned to your wall.

“Sure thing, where’s the body?” You teased, hearing Jungkook’s chuckle at the other side of the phone.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need your help for that stuff,” he teased back.

You blinked, taken aback by him again.

“So…?”

There was a couple of seconds of silence between you two, until he took courage to speak up again.

“My hyungs never take me seriously, they-they believe I can’t control my emotions, that I can’t contribute with something… good. I feel like a puppy to them sometimes, although I have so much to thank Namjoon for… I still feel left out.”

You listened carefully to his blurted words, recording the call and taking mental notes of some interesting points, like him being grateful to Namjoon to the point that he thinks he owns him obedience.

And also, the supposed lack of control of his emotions.

Everything he said can be weaponized against him.

“I think I already know where’s this going. You want me to include you in my plans, am I right?”

“Please,” he whispered, with desperation written on his voice.

You grinned widely.

“All right, let’s do that.”

There was silence again, one that made you feel uncomfortable.

“You aren’t hiding something from us, right? Like your identity? I mean… everybody hides something, but faking an identity it’s just plaint betrayal.”

His tone dropped an octave. His words felt like a dangerous threat hiding underneath fake naivety. You felt shivers on your body.

“I’m real.” It’s all you said, regretting not elaborating more.

He let out a dark chuckle.

“Good, because I like you, and I don’t like liars. There’s a reason why my hyungs don’t let me… deal with people, because when I’m hurt, I can get a little bit… crazy.” He whispered lowly, but you heard his every word loud and clear.

You felt like throwing up, and you don’t know why.

“Bye Jungkook,” you were too uncomfortable and too tired to do this at three in the morning.

“Bye my little Ann, remember our little secret… deal. And don’t worry about my hyungs discovering us, I’m good at protecting what is mine.” He said it like a warn before hanging up the call.

Your heart was pounding and your hands trembled. You inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying to calm yourself down, but it was useless; you were having a panic attack.

You sat on a chair, covering tightly your ears and shutting your eyes close.

I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe.

You mumble those words to yourself like a prayer in a loop, believing that if you say it more times and more loudly, the bad thoughts will stop tormenting you.

You had some heavy childhood traumas, but you tried to cope with them with your work and success. But things like people finding out your plans and making you feel dumb, served as trigger for your deepest insecurities.

Your Bruderherz was right, they were a difficult task. And for the first time in your life, you were doubting your skills.

Fuck Bangtan, you won’t let them outsmart you that easy.

But maybe they will; whispered that ugly and cruel voice at the back of your head.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You weren’t feeling okay. You felt dizzy and exhausted, Jungkook’s words haunted you even in your dreams, making you unable to sleep a blink last night.

Your mind wasn’t present at all, and someone in the room noticed it.

“What are you thinking about?” Asked Yoongi scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes, his stare was fixated on you since the moment you put a foot in their mansion.

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts by his question.

“Nothing important,” you said back with a shrug.

Yoongi stands inches in front of you, looking straight into your eyes. There was a little frown in his brows, and his cat eyes glinted with inquisitiveness. He can see right throughout you, and you didn’t like that at all.

 “What?” You snapped at him, but he didn’t even flinch, unbothered by your menacing stare.

“Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, I want your full attention on this plan, on us.”

You widened your eyes, taken aback by his words. But his concern was unnecessary, because the source of your worry was one of his friends.

“It’s okay, don’t bother. I’ll pay more attention.” You cleared your throat, dropping your gaze on the digital map of the tactile screen from the table.

You felt fingers gripping and turning your chin towards Yoongi again. His eyes were intense, studying carefully your expression.

“Who’s bothering you? Tell me now,” he commanded with a deep frown. Impatience flashing his dark eyes.

You didn’t say anything at first, you won’t tell him that Jungkook’s been plotting behind their back, at least not now. You’re saving that piece of information for later, so you can have something to use against Jungkook and to tear their gang apart.

And also, you would never tell him about your stupid panic attacks, so you have to make up a good lie.

“It’s my dad, he’s been… insufferable lately. But I guess he’s just worry about me being far away from him.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything back, nodding slowly at your words with his arms crossed over his chest. You weren’t sure if he believed you or not.

“If I were your dad, I’d lock you up, considering how reckless you are.” He teased with a mocking smirk curling on his lips.

“I like that idea very much,” said Jimin coming from nowhere, grinning mischievous at the both of you.

You rolled playfully your eyes at him, although the uneasy feeling churning in your stomach didn’t disappear.

People sometimes tend to say truths throughout “harmless” jokes. And coming from them, you’d take seriously everything they say.

You became aware of them throwing glances at you and taking notice of your grumpy demeanor. That’s why you changed your sulking behavior, giving them your full attention and participating more in the plan.

You almost forgot the most important rule; you can’t show them insecurity, you can’t show them weakness, or they’ll eat you alive.

You shield all of your emotions and thoughts. Standing tall, making a room for you in this kind of meeting, and holding everyone’s gaze, even though you were anxious in the inside.

Your plan of getting rid of them was becoming more difficult as the days goes by, and that’s starting to worry you. You knew they wouldn’t be an easy target, and that this plan will take some time, but they’re suspecting you, watching your every move more carefully, warily.

“You’ve been acting strange all day,” Namjoon’s deep voice coming from behind you made you startle. You turned around to face him with your heart pounding in your ears.

You look up at him, holding his gaze. He was staring down at you with curiosity.

“Yeah, I noticed you all staring at me like hawks. I just had a bad day with my dad, that’s all,” you said crossing your arms over your chest, and then uncrossing them, remembering that that’s a way of showing defensiveness through your body language.

Namjoon took noticed of the movement, looking lost in thought.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

He didn’t state it as an accusation but as a fact, like he genuinely believes that you’re being dishonest with him.

You were truly impressed by the sharp mind of these guys, but you won’t let them win, not now and not ever.

“I’m just… so tired of this lifestyle so to speak, and yes, I know you warned me before, but I want my dad to let me live my life for once, just for once, here, in this city.” You said biting your bottom lip in worry, averting your gaze to the side.

You mixed your real feelings with lies, because that would make your vulnerable act more credible.

Were you really tired of this lifestyle? Of fucking course, but you were more tired of not finishing their lives quickly. You want your trip to Europe so bad, to take a break from a life you didn’t ask for.

You watched him frowning at your words, with concern flashing his eyes. You noticed that he was the type of person that worries a bit too much about other people, that’s why he’s the one in charge, because he knows all too well the weight of taking responsibility for others.

“I see.” That’s all he said, with his dark gaze piercing you, trying to see right throughout you.

You noticed his gaze shifting to behind your back, and a devilish smirk curling on his lips.

“Hello there, grumpy girl,” whispered hotly someone into your ear, making you gasp and startle. You turned your head back to meet with Hoseok, he gripped your shoulders while looking into your eyes with mischievousness.

“Why don’t we bring this spoiled and absent-minded girl to Seokjin?” Said Namjoon staring piercingly at you, making you frown.

“What-“

“Shall we?” Asked Hoseok with amusement.

And before you could say anything, Namjoon gripped tightly your hand, almost dragging you towards Bangtan’s office where Seokjin was sitting in front of the desk, with all of the other members sitting comfortably on the couch. They looked at you immediately after you put a foot in their office.

“Here she is,” hummed Yoongi.

“Ann, please take a seat,” Seokjin gestured to the chair in front of the desk. You did as he said as smoothly as possible, not wanting to show them the turmoil of thoughts racing your mind.

“What’s up guys? I feel like I’m being scolded by the school’s principal,” you chuckled with a forced smile, trying to ease the tension of your shoulders and of the room.

You heard Jimin giggle at your back, but Seokjin’s poker face and tight lips made you feel even more worry.

“I- well, we noticed that you weren’t mentally present at all in the meeting.”

You couldn’t help to huff and roll your eyes at him, they were acting really dense with the topic, you have never met someone in your life that cared that much about your attention and inner conflicts.

“I already told you all why, it was just a personal issue with my dad.”

Irritation flashed Seokjin’s narrowed eyes. You supposed he didn’t like your attitude at all. But well, not only were you feeling drained by them, but your character is supposed to be a spoiled girl who doesn’t know boundaries, even with dangerous people like him. Maybe that’s why he said nothing to your rude tone.

“Yes, you say it a hundredth times. But I don’t want to talk about your dad, I can’t care less for him. I want you to fix whatever that problem is, because we need everyone in this room to be present physically and mentally at all times.”

There was a sour expression flashing Seokjin’s face, but besides that, he looked very professional, cold and composed.

They weren’t playing around with their business; you should’ve known better.

“And also… we can help you with your little problem, in fact, we’re looking forward to it.” This time, a wolfish grin curled on his lips, and his eyes glinted with intensity, fixated piercingly on you.

Your heart stopped at his words. You frowned glancing around the room to look at the members, they were staring at you like wolves circling their prey, and you didn’t like that at all. You felt trapped. But you felt even more confused as to why were they so eager to help you.

“But… why?” You muttered, looking back at Seokjin.

Seokjin’s grin widened at your question, leaning his upper body closer to you across the desk.

“Because as long as you work for us, we own you. And we took really good care of our proprieties, even if they’re temporary. We’re a very territorial group, and we like to protect each other, otherwise we wouldn’t be here alive.”

You widened your eyes and parted your mouth with genuine shock, you felt as if he had poured a bucket of cold water on you.

His tone felt possessive, they really think you belong to them. They see you as their property, according to Seokjin’s literal words. You couldn’t believe what he just said, you wanted to hysterically laugh on his face, in fact, you bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from cracking up with laughter. They were so, so funny.

“Oh, that’s really interesting. So that means you all belong to me too, temporary, of course.” You teased, feeling the confidence return to your body.

“Yes, of fucking course sweetheart,” purred Jimin from the couch, devouring you with his half-lidded gaze.

Your smile fell a little, they were so strange.

“We all belong to each other in this room, that’s why you should be careful to not betray us. You need to trust us and earn our trust; we are a really loyal group.” Remarked calmly Namjoon, as if he was talking about the weather and not about owning you like a pet.

“Well, they said that betrayal comes from the people we trust the most, and I am a simple stranger for you guys. I won’t be a disloyal rat, I get it okay? Because I’ll be in danger. Let’s move on from that topic, shall we?”

Your patience was running thin, you felt the primal need to flee from this den of wolves.

“Don’t get too cocky, you belong to us but that doesn’t mean you have power over us,” Growled Taehyung from behind you.

“Taehyung,” warned Yoongi with a frown.

The boy got up of the couch, walking away with clenched fists. You didn’t know what set him off this time. He always looks angry.

“Don’t take it personal, he’s just afraid of liking you too much,” said nonchalant Yoongi, making you feel surprised.

“You’re dismissed, Ann.”

You take happily your leave, taking notice of Jungkook smirking and winking at you before you leave the office. His gesture made you feel shivers.

You learn two important things today; 1) they took notice of everything; nothing escapes their sight. And 2) They were really, but really loyal to each other, so much that it scares you a little.

But all of that can be used on your favor, as they say; divide and rule. If you can turn them against each other, then you will have power over them.

You felt a rush of greed run your veins, the five million of dollar worth nothing in comparison to owning and stealing their legacy. You can rule Bangtan and get rid of them, killing two birds with one stone.

You just hope that they never found out who you really are, because if so, you chose to die before letting them get their crazy hands on you.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You were yanked towards a dark room in your way to the mansion’s doors. A hand on your mouth muzzles your screams, your eyes tear up with fear when you were dragged into the room, watching another male closing and locking the door behind you, trapping the three of you inside.

“Shhh, it’s okay we just want to have a chat with you, we won’t hurt you.” You recognized Jungkook’s voice, he mouthed those words with your back glued to his front body.

“We’ll be nice only if you cooperate,” hissed Taehyung walking towards you.

You blink quickly your eyes trying to accommodate them to the darkness of the room. You spot Taehyung’s silhouette inches from your body, he looked even more threatening this closely.

You nodded slowly after seconds of uncomfortable silence. Jungkook let go of your mouth, but his arm gripped your waist instead, pushing you harder into his chest.

You gulped your fear and discomfort away. You can’t show them weakness, or they’ll eat you alive.

“What do you want from me? Wouldn’t it be easier if you asked me like normal people? This is unnecessary, even if you want me to bury a body, I would help you guys, no need for the theatrics.” You scolded with a sigh, trying to arrange your shirt down but Jungkook’s arm didn’t let you.

“You always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Taehyung huffed with annoyance, leaning his body even closer to you, making you stiffen. “We drag you here to have a private conversation, without our hyungs.”

That spike your interest very quickly, you quirk a brow, wanting to know their intentions.

“I’m all ears,” you said, resting your back deeply into Jungkook’s front, you heard him inhale sharp.

Taehyung explained to you how he needs to participate more in your plan, and he heard from Jungkook how you will help the younger. Long story short; the both of them basically want you to include them more, like little boys wanting to have more credit to impress their hyungs. It was almost adorable.

And you will help them, but that help will come with a price.

Divide and rule.

“Glad to make business with you,” teased Taehyung after the three of you came with an agreement.

You tried to pull away from Jungkook’s grip but that boy didn’t let you go, and before you could say anything to him, Taehyung’s body brushing yours made your heart stop.

His nose was near yours, with his hot breath brushing your lips. You were trapped between the both of them, and suddenly you felt claustrophobic, like a weak prey cornered into its predator’s trap.

“Now, what do you want?” Your voice quivered, betraying you.

Although you couldn’t see their smiles, you could felt them anyway.

“We’ll give you a little show of what will happen if you try to turn us against our hyungs.” Threatened Taehyung lowly.

And then Taehyung’s body crashed against yours, making Jungkook ram into the wall behind them, dragging you with him. The both of them were glued to your back and front, making you feel asphyxiated. They were stronger, making it impossible for you to free yourself from their python grip.

You felt Jungkook’s lips kissing your neck, with his tongue lapping slowly the skin like a thirsty dog. The grip of his arm around your waist tightens painfully.

Taehyung spread your ankles apart with his foot, positioning his groin uncomfortably closer to yours, you felt his lips brushing your cheeks, melting you with desire and fear. You didn’t want this, but your body reactions were out of your control, and you hated not being in control.

“You’ll rape me? You think that will scare me?” You defy them breathless.

The both of them chuckled at your words.

“Oh, you have no idea what we’ll do, our hyungs will participate too, and believe me; they’re crazier,” mouthed Taehyung near your lips, his words made you feel shivers.

“If you get into their hands, you won’t see the light of the day ever again. You’ll be our little puppy, trained to obey us,” coed Jungkook behind you, sounding eager for that to happen.

You felt dread at their words, your worst fear was being deprived of your freedom and autonomy.

“Okay okay! I get it, let me go please,” you plead, and they stopped immediately, letting you go.

You felt your knees wobbling when Jungkook stopped holding you, like a baby dear learning to walk.

That day you got to your home with a blank gaze, ignoring your hackers’ work partners.

And when you sleep, you dream of ropes and devilish smirks, tying a leash around your neck.

You were fucked up.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @itlover8000 @monochromaticfawn @devilzliaison @11thenightwemet11 @deluluisdasolulu @shailari @queenc22x

[highprettybabyy]

Seeing Red

Part 3 - If We Don't Say It

jenna ortega x fem!reader apocalypse au

summary: some more mall content; quiet chapter

warnings: enemies to lovers, typical apocalypse stuff, violence, blood, zombies, gore, maybe angst... some fluff...

AN: hehehe

word count: 1.8k

Part 2

—//—

You woke to quiet.

Real quiet.

No distant groans. No boots scraping across tile. Just the faint buzz of early light bleeding in through the cracks of boarded windows.

Jenna was still asleep.

You turned your head slowly, neck aching from falling asleep on a chair - which you felt slightly guilty about. Luckily nothing happened. She lay curled on her side, face turned toward the wall, her breathing even. One hand was tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting loosely beside her head. Her rifle was within reach but her fingers weren’t curled around it for once.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her like this.

Relaxed. Still.

Not ready for war.

You didn’t move for a while. Just watched her shoulders rise and fall, the way the light caught the strands of her hair where they’d slipped from her braid. Her brow was smooth in sleep, that permanent frown between her eyes finally gone.

You let her sleep. She looked like she needed it.

Eventually, you rose from the chair, pulled on your jacket, and moved quietly through the furniture store. The barricades were still in place. No signs of movement beyond the fogged glass at the front. You checked your gear, made sure your makeshift satchel hadn’t been touched, then dropped down by your duffel and began to gather what you could carry.

A few minutes later, you opened a granola bar, broke it in half, and placed one half gently on the bedside table beside her.

By the time Jenna stirred - rubbing at her face with one hand, grumbling something under her breath about her neck - you were already crouched by the maintenance door, finishing a quick map sketch on a torn receipt.

She blinked at the granola. Then at you.

You shrugged. “Didn’t know if you were the breakfast type.”

She picked it up and took a bite without a word. Chewed. Swallowed.

Then, quiet: “Thanks.”

That was all either of you said for a while.

-

The mall felt different now that you weren’t alone.

Still broken, still dark in the corners, but less oppressive. Like the ghosts that used to breathe against your neck had stepped back a little. Just a little.

You moved in sync. You didn’t plan it, but it happened all the same. Jenna took point down the long corridors, rifle held low. You trailed behind, eyes flicking across doorways and overhead vents. It wasn’t trust exactly, but it was something close enough that it held.

You didn’t bring up the nightmare.

And she didn’t bring up the fact that you’d reached for her hand.

Instead, you headed back toward the areas you’d both left behind yesterday. You took a detour through the hardware shop. Jenna helped you shove a coil of garden hose into your bag. You pointed out a folding saw she missed on the top shelf. When she almost slipped on a scattered pile of nails, you grabbed her elbow without thinking.

She didn’t shake you off.

By the time you reached the service corridor that connected both wings of the mall, the silence had stretched long enough to feel heavy again.

That’s when you brought it up.

“So where’s your base?”

Jenna didn’t look at you. “West end. Old loft above a bike shop.”

“Ventilation?”

“Decent.”

“Water?”

“Not great,” she admitted.

You nodded. “Mine’s in the old suburbs. Two-storey. Rain collectors on the roof. Solar panels are dying, but I’ve got a few battery backups still holding.”

“You alone?”

You hesitated. “Yeah.”

She nodded once. You both walked a little further.

Then she said, “Mine’s closer.”

You glanced at her.

“I wasn’t suggesting anything,” she added quickly.

You didn’t say anything at first. Then: “We’ll deal with it when we need to.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Sure.”

But the tension stayed.

It was there in the way her shoulders straightened. In the way you started checking over your shoulder more often than usual. Neither of you knew what would happen when you had to choose; her safehouse, yours, or neither. Maybe that was the real reason neither of you had said the word “together” yet.

-

You found the coffee shop by accident.

It had a cracked glass front and a busted neon sign that still read “CAFÉ” like it hadn’t given up entirely. Inside, the shelves were ransacked, the pastry counter empty but intact. Behind the register, the air was stale and bitter, the scent of old beans was present in the air.

You both paused. Looked at each other.

Then Jenna grinned.

You ended up in the back kitchen, where a dusty French press still sat beside a rusting kettle. Rummaging through, you found a cracked portable camping stove in your pack. You boiled what little clean water you had left and poured it carefully over the grinds.

The smell hit you both like a memory.

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

Jenna closed her eyes for a second and leaned against the counter. “If this is a dream, don’t wake me.”

You didn’t speak while it brewed. You just moved - like people. Like humans. Jenna found a sealed jar of hazelnut spread and three sugar packets still intact. You broke apart an expired biscotti and split it with a grin.

She poured the coffee into mismatched mugs. One said “#1 Dad.” The other had a lipstick print and the words “Hot Mess.”

You raised yours. “Cheers to that.”

She smirked. “Fitting.”

You drank.

It was bitter. Burnt. Too strong.

It was perfect.

-

The walk back to the furniture store was quiet again. Not strained, this time. Just… full.

Your arms were heavier now. Packs fuller. You’d found rope, some tarp, a small stash of canned peaches, a cracked but working radio with extra batteries. You’d both kept moving, both working, but your eyes found each other more often now.

She handed you a small bag of coffee beans she’d pocketed when you weren’t looking. You passed her a pack of strawberry chewing gum.

Neither of you commented on the gesture.

You stepped out into the parking lot just as the sun began to break through the cloudline. The light caught on the windshields of dust-coated cars and the twisted handles of shopping carts. You stood near the centre - open space in every direction, nowhere to hide.

She turned to you.

You looked at her.

There wasn’t a word for the ache that passed between you.

Not affection. Not forgiveness. Not quite hope. Just… yearning.

You both wanted to say it. That maybe this wasn’t just temporary. That maybe the last person on Earth you hated wasn’t the worst one to stay alive with.

But neither of you said it.

You turned back towards the mall.

She fell into step beside you.

And for now, that was enough.

--//--

AN: couldn’t leave you hanging too long <3

Part 4

[boytearscore]

why can’t i hate you? — matt sturniolo & chris sturniolo.

summary: being best friends with chris and nick meant the world to you, it also meant you had to deal with their brother’s hate, rudeness, eye rolls, mean comments and coldness all the time. but that didn’t bother you, in fact, it was actually always a pleasure to annoy the shit out of him constantly.

warnings: swearing, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, love triangle (not threesome), toxic behavior, angst, comedy, possible smut and of course, strong female lead. TW for this chapter: mention of panic attack.)

taglist: @sleepysturniolo, @soshere, @spideylovin, @calisturniolo, @ilovecheese09, @ncm9696 , @klaus223492, @freshloveforthefit (thank you so much for the support, girls 💋)

author’s note: i’d like to say, this is by far the hardest chapter i’ve written. it was so intense and emotional but i hope you guys enjoy it. (feedbacks, comments and anything else are welcome, feel free to speak your mind) that’s it, see ya! chapter one here, chapter two here

chapter three.

after much thinking, you decided to go home and cool off, just the thought of making nick and chris uncomfortable because their brother was a dick make you blood boil.

you texted the group of you three telling them you had some stuff to do and needed to leave early, but that you’d see them soon.

chris was the first one to reply, you were still driving home when his message popped up but you didn’t want to be distracted, so you conclude it’s best to reply later.

as you passed by the tall buildings and palm trees of LA, your mind just went away with thoughts of matthew.

no guy looked at you that way before, sure, a few did hate you for past relationships and even because you always hold them accountable when they do shitty things.

but the coldness of matt’s eyes, there was so much hate, it was almost like he’s holding in something else.

jealousy? you think to yourself but shakes your head right away.

not a fucking chance.

all you know is that his attempts to hurt you didn’t and will not work in the future. the only thing bothering you is not being able to read him as much as you do to all the other guys. there’s a blockage and your curiosity to find out more was actually growing bigger now that he seemed way too angry about you flirting with chris.

finally, you get home, opening the door and throwing the keys on the couch. you go straight to bed, getting yourself comfortable on the between the sheets and buffing loudly. you hear another beep.

oh shit, chris. you thought grabbing your phone immediately, he didn’t reply on the group chat, but sent you a private message.

“did you go home because of what happened earlier?”

you frown, does he know about your argument with matt? fuck, that could not happen, things would get messy and really awkward.

but then another message popped up.

“sorry, i couldn’t control myself… you’re too tempting.”

you let out a huge sigh of relief, smiling at your phone and responding to him.

“trust me, it was very hard to leave after what you did, christopher. but there's indeed an emergency, don’t worry.”

you lied for the first time to chris and a sinking feeling weighed your heart, maybe one day you’d be able to tell him about what actually happened, but that’s not the right time yet.

“hahaha, i guess you should walk on me getting out of the shower more then. ;)”

you smile again, it was so adorable to see chris’ bold and confident side. it was also fucking hot.

“so i can win and make you blush again? pfft, that’d be boring.”

chris types for a while and then stops, then types again and you chuckled, he’s still the cute guy you knew.

“you’re lucky we weren’t in my room, the only reason why i didn’t bend you over that wall and fucked you right there was because one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you stare at the message for a couple seconds, the smile turning into an amused smirk. so this is the same guy who facetimes you until he can fall asleep after watching a horror movie?

an exciting feeling took over your whole body, but then you read the last sentence.

''one of my stupid brothers could catch us.”

you close your eyes and the image of matt stabbing you with his gaze is all over your head again.

this was starting to piss you off, you never really thought about matthew that much. he was just annoying and kind of there while you hangout with your best friends, but now? even flirting with someone else over text, you can’t help but think of him.

this is not over.

before you could respond chris, you dozed off.

your phone is suddenly buzzing, you open your eyes confused, the room was already pitch black and then you check the time, it’s 3AM.

“who the fuck is calling at 3AM?” you murmured to yourself but got your answer right away. ”matt?” you almost yell, getting up off the bed and staring at the contact calling.

what he could possibly want from you at 3AM? was he determined to annoy you this much? you roll your eyes and wait for it to go straight to voicemail, expecting him to give up, but then he actually sent you a voice message.

“hey…” his voice was shaken, breathless. and you frowned confused. “chris and nick are out for tonight and…” he stops again and you hear a sob. “i need to take my anxiety medication but i can’t get up. i hate to ask you this but… can you please help me?”

“i’ll be there in 10.”

you immediately text him without thinking twice, leaving your room and grabbing the keys on the couch.

on the way to the triplets house, your mind raced just as much as your heart. you forgot about the argument from this morning, all you wanted to do is get there before anything bad could happen.

after 15 minutes, you finally get there using your spare key to open the house. it was quiet, dark and you could hear low sobs and shaky breaths close to the living room wall. you rush to the cabinet, grabbing his pills and getting a cup of water, following the noise and soon finding matthew on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, you bend over touching his shoulder and he grabs your hand abruptly, looking at you with a terrified expression. his eyes were swollen and moist, his lips were red from biting it hard and you could feel his whole grip shaking around your hand.

“do not touch me.” he yells but loses strength, leaning over the wall still holding your arm which makes you fall next to him. his eyes widened and he almost looked like he was about to apologise but then he glared at your hand holding his medication. “how did you know where it was?”

“nick.” you reply, and he stays quiet for a while. his grip still on your hand, but you didn’t even notice it. “he told me about what happened years ago…”

he remains quiet, just breathing heavily, his gaze focused on the ceiling of the living room, you also stayed quiet. the pain in his lost eyes made your heart ache, suddenly he loosened his grip and you watched him stretch his hand. you frowned and he rolled his eyes.

“the medication.” he says and you give to him, he takes the cup of water from your other hand and shug all of it after putting the pill into his mouth.

and that’s when shit happens.

you don’t know why, but you feel the urge to hug him. all these years of anger, annoyance and rudeness meant so much less when you just saw how much pain he was feeling. sure, nothing excuses his behaviour, but you imagined the way those kids treated him, the reason why he changed so much and why he refused to talk about it even with the people he trusted the most.

he was just a little kid, for god sake.

and so you do it.

you wrap your arms around him and he tries to push you away. “what the fuck are you doing?” he yells, and you hug him tighter.

“it’s not your fault, matt.” you whisper.

“what are you talking about? get off of me!” he still protested and you repeated again, this time a little louder.

“it’s not your fault. none of this is.”

and then he stops fighting against your hug, you hear loud sobs, his body shaking and his arms squeezing around your waist, he lets his head fall on your shoulder. your hand reaches his hair, gently caressing it and the other rubbing his back.

“i…” he tries to speak but all it came out was loud whimpers, and you hug him even tighter.

“i know…” you tell him quietly.

both of you stayed that way for a while, your arms and hands giving him warmth and comfort. he eventually calms down and when you feel him lift his head up loosening the hug, you look at him and he stares at you, a few tears still falling and you can’t help but wipe them with your fingers. the contact of you skin makes matt close his eyes, he puts a hand over yours and let a huge sigh out.

“why?” he asks, still with his eyes closed.

“what do you mean?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.

“why are you being nice to me when i'm nothing but a jerk to you all the time?” he opens his eyes and stares at you with an expression you’ve never seen before on his face.

you think for a second, biting your lips. matthew is staring at you intensely waiting for a response.

“i don’t know…” you confess. “i just don’t like to see you in pain, that’s all.”

“but why?” he questions you again, this time, he pressed your hand harder against his face.

“because i know how it feels.” you blurt it out without thinking and he doesn’t react, nodding his head quietly.

“fuck…” he finally speaks, avoiding your gaze for the first time that night. he huffs looking at you again, slowly getting closer, now you are inches from each other faces. “you’re the worst.” he mutters, shutting his eyes hard and keeping your palm against his cheek. he lets out another huff of breath and then speaks. “you make me feel... weird."

you grab his face with both hands and make him stare at your eyes, he was still crying.

“tell me how you feel, matt.” you whisper, at this point your chest was about to explode with strong heartbeats. “open your heart to me, i’m not gonna hurt you…” you continue, looking at his teary eyes. “i promise.”

matthew place both of his hand over yours and hesitates a little, you fingers gently rubbing his cheeks and he finally open his mouth to speak when you hear the front door opening.

“matt?” a yell makes both of you turn to the front door, chris and nick just arrived.

they stare at you on the ground and nick rushes over to see what’s happening, while chris is just staring at your hands on his brothers face and his over yours, feeling a mixture of jealousy and worry.

“the fuck happen to you?” nick asks, and you get away from matthew like you just woke up from a trance. you glance at chris by the front door and notice his weird expression, but decide to not think about it since a lot is happening at the moment.

“just had a panic attack.” he shrugs, getting up from the ground and looking at you. “she helped me, i’m okay.”

chris and nick turn to you with eyebrows raised, like they just heard the most absurd thing ever.

“now that i’m not needed anymore…” you pick up the keys from the counter and head to the door not wanting to explain things not even you understand, but chris grabs your arm, you could see his jaw clenched.

“you should’ve called us.” he’s still holding you, but staring at matt who seemed to be back at his usual nonchalant self again. “not her.”

“thought you said you guys were staying the night there. didn’t want to bother your little vacation.” you feel the grip on your arm getting tighter and that infuriates you.

“are you done?” you ask chris angrily and he finally looks at you, immediately letting your arm go. “that’s what i thought.”

you turn to nick waving goodbye, he mutters “i’ll text you later” and you leave without looking at chris or matt.

what the hell just happened?

it’s all you could think on the way home while your phone was blowing up with messages from chris.

[ryuttaeng]

First of all welcome back,

Can you a friends to lovers with g!p ryujin, both are in the same pack kinda like Teen Wolf.

-🦋 anon

gp!ryujin x fem!reader

a/n: dare i say that i’ve never watched it 🫢

warnings: g!p, slight enemies to friends to lovers, lowkey made it switch!ryujin, unprotected sex

you turn around, hearing someone’s presence in the room. "oh, it’s you… you can at least announce yourself before entering, you know?" you say, as you look at ryujin’s smiley face. "what are you smiling at, ryuddaeng?" you ask, seeing older girl that shrugged. "nothing… do i need a reason to smile?"

you sigh, as you sat down bedside ryujin on the couch, examining her face. it’s actually hard to tell for you why you started liking her overnight and when that hate between you both ended. ryu looks like an epitome of your type but you don’t like her that way, do you? you’d rather have her as your…

"earth to y/n! are we here?" ryujin waves her hand in front of your face, trying to draw your attention to her. "sorry, just wondered about… stuff." you reply, turning away from her. "oh really? mind sharing your thoughts with me?" does she really need to be this… appealing? you pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing once again. "wanna make you sigh in a different way." you hear ryujin say, instantly turning your head to her direction. did you hear that right?

there was something about you that made ryujin irritated or was it just a reaction to your attitude towards her. you two weren’t on a good terms with each other but ryujin wouldn’t deny that you are exactly what she wanted in a girl. she secretly cheered when you started talking with her more and eventually became friends. of course, there still were some things that she hid from you, but maybe it’s you who’s a little ignorant about ryujin’s intentions or whatever.

ryujin’s hand playfully took your strand of hair, "do you really don’t get my intentions?" she asks, making you more confused than ever. now it’s ryujin’s turn to sigh, yet she’s patient, "i like you. not as a friend or coworker you know… we both work together but it would be hard to me to stay as friends." her hand was on your cheek, as she shyly turned her head away. is it real? or she just messing with you? you just open and close your mouth, unable to form any coherent sentences, as you feel ryujin grabbing your head and laying it on her chest. "ya hear that? that’s how fast you make my heart beat." ryujin’s voice softened as you look at her. "are you kidding me? i thought i was weird for feeling something… towards you." you almost whisper, now looking at ryujin differently. ryujin takes a deep breath before saying, "no, im not kidding you i just-"

the rest of the sentence ryujin hummed into the kiss, her hand grabbing your hair, moving you closer to her, if it’s even possible. older girl carefully lays down, you break the kiss to go down to her neck, holding back to leave any marks. ryujin’s breathing becomes more intense, she’s almost whimpering, "hold on… y/n, i-" ryujin tries to push you away but you resist. she sits down, holding onto her pants, hesitating to speak. she just takes your hand, moving it lower, until you sense her hard-on. older girl awaits for your negative reaction and she sighs in relief when you smile at her, "i’m totally okay with it, don’t worry about it. you’re as gorgeous as you always were." you sink yourself down, slowly rubbing the clothed cock.

ryujin whimpers, mumbling your name under her breath, as you unzip her pants, pulling them down along with boxers. you kiss ryujin again, pulling down your pants, slowly aligning her cock with your entrance as you adjust to her length. "oh my… god…" you moan out, ryujin’s hands placed on your waist, she slowly starts moving her hips, nearly ready to finish already. "ryujin… can you go faster, please?" you whisper, closing your eyes. it’s all too much for your liking.

who ryujin is to deny your plea? she starts pounding into you, making you moan even louder that she has to muffle you by kissing. your breathing becomes more intense, you getting closer to your release with each ryujin’s thrust. "oh- f-fuck, i’m gonna cum now!" ryujin moans out, her cock sips out of you before she shoots her load on her tummy, you both came at the same time.

you lay down, heavy breathing when ryujin’s hand caresses your hair. she placed a kiss on your forehead, holding you. "i love you."

"i love you too."

[veltana]

Cate's Creation Celebration

Hello and welcome to my first ever writing event! 🫣😅😨😵

My birthday happens to fall the day before Walpurgis Night. Where I'm from we celebrate with friends, watching bonfires, listening to choirs and getting absolutely shitfaced. So we're going to combine that with the myth and folklore of Walpurgis Night and have ourselves a creation celebration! Are you going to confess to your best friend by the flames of the fire, or are you going to get snared by a dark warlock?

There are two parts of this! A writing event and submitting a writing request. For both you need to be +18 to participate. There needs to be some indication of your age in the bio of your blog.

If you want to submit a writing request, you can find the form here. Your askbox needs to be open to be able to participate. Read the rules in the form before submitting.

If you want to participate in the writing event please see the details below!

General details

The writing event is open to the end of May (but I'll accept late entries)

All entries will be put into an event masterlist.

Rules

I read for Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans and sometimes Henry Cavill characters. I'm open to reading other fandoms but no RPF.

Only reader-insert fics. Please use inclusive language and tag accordingly so everyone can have fun!

You don't have to claim a prompt but please keep to the theme of the event.

10k maximum word limit. Please put your fic under a cut after a reasonable amount of words!

Your fic can be part of a series but must be able to be read as a standalone piece.

No fucking AI fics.

No incest, grooming, underage, watersports/scat, vomit, necrophilia, cannibalism, bestiality or similar types of yucky stuff.

Otherwise works can be any genre (fluff, smut, angst ect), just make sure to include appropriate warnings. I do reserve the right to not read and/or reblog something that makes me uncomfortable. I'm not much for really dark fics or whump.

If you only post to AO3 then please send me a link or something so I don't miss it!

Tag @veltana when you post your fic and include #catescreationcelebration in the tags!

Here are some prompts to get the wheels turning!

Dialogue (you're free to change tense):

"Did you put a spell on me!?"

"If magic made wishes come true, what would you wish for?"

"Are you alone out here?"

"You have no idea what forces you're playing with."

"I can't pretend anymore."

"I'm doing this for you!"

"I'm not supposed to fall for someone like you."

"It's really hot."

"Our love will either save the world or doom it."

"Is that a pentagram?"

"Don't tempt me."

"You're not supposed to be here."

"You're adorable."

"Do you feel it? The pull between us?"

"Ugh, I hate this!"

"I'm not just your protector, I'm bound to you."

"I'm really cold."

"I warned you, being near me comes with a price."

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"You're the only light in my dark world."

"I gave up my soul for you."

"I've always wanted to summon a demon."

"You deserve to know."

"I've heard your voice in my dreams."

"The moon has whispered your name to me."

"Oh... oh!"

"I can give you anything you desire, but there is a price."

"Who are you?"

Setting/AU:

Bookstore

Bonfire celebration

Sacrificial ceremony

Cursed/Enchanted forest

Café

Academia

Soulmate

Abandoned cottage

Moonlit grove

Demon

Priest/Priestess

Monster

Omegaverse

Ritual

Warlock/Witch

Tropes:

Friends to lovers

Enemies to lovers

Forced proximity

Fake relationship

Secret relationship

Second-chance

Marriage of convenience

Arranged marriage

Fated mates

Only one bed

Amnesia

Professor/Student

Idiots in love

Fuck or die

Haaaave fuuuuuun~

[losing-it-lately]

I Crumble Completely When You Cry

wc: 2k

eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

angst with a happy ending, best friends to enemies to lovers, regular upside down stuff, inspired by this one line in 505 by the arctic monkeys

You aren't dating him. You aren't friends with him. You both don't "talk". Eddie knows all of these things are true, he knows all of these things form the basis of your's and Eddie's relationship- if it can even be called that. But it's not enough. It's not enough to hold him back from you or to suppress that gnawing pit in his stomach or to stop old habits from coming back from the dead. He shouldn't have said that, but what's worse is he shouldn't have done what he did after.

Eddie remembers everything that happened between you two. Everything that went down exists in perfect clarity as if it replays over and over in his mind. And in a way, it does, he hasn't stopped thinking of what happened between you two ever since. And you haven't either.

Eddie would say that what happened started a month or two into the school year- when you finally got into cheer and had gotten through to the team. Wayne would say that what happened started right after Will Byers had been found. Steve Harrington would say that it started when Will was proclaimed missing, but you had always known that what happened between you and Eddie didn't start that year, but was bound to happen from the first day you had met him.

You had always known Eddie. Ever since he had moved into Hawkins, the small and buzzed boy had been on your radar. More than just your radar actually, you had grown the biggest crush on him. He was tall and lanky and unruly and silly and everything that made you grin in the schoolgirl type of way that you did when you got a new crush. Eddie was sweet and you did as much to look after him as possible. Leaving snacks on his desk when you noticed that he didn't bring lunch often, or conveniently losing a pen in the back of the classroom when he had forgotten one or even stopping close family friends like Steve from picking on him; you had looked out for Eddie as long as you had known him, it was bound to happen even when you got older.

At some point, you assumed that your crush would disappear or die out, and then everything would return to normal, but in the midst of Hawkins Middle School was the annual talent show, which changed it all. Eddie was obviously going to apply with his new band, a small group of tweens that he had collected from grades younger than him. However, as he began filling out the form, he hit a dead end. Eddie needed a name, and he needed one quickly. This was the last day to sign up and the members of the council in charge were clearly fed up with him waiting and stalling with the form. Eddie was freaking out. Him and his friends had done so much practice, and now, when he was practically finished, he could feel it all crumble in front of him. And then you walked by.

"Are you ok, Eddie?" He wasn't, and you were ready to do whatever you could to fix it.

As he explained his problem, you searched through your bag. English had just finished last period, surely you still had your dictionary.

Finally, you lugged out the large hard cover and began searching for a word to compliment 'coffin'; scanning through the 'co' page and reading out words until Eddie got you to stop.

"Corroded Coffin! That's it!" His grin was so bright, you couldn't help but mirror it, and you knew in that moment that you would be taking care of Eddie Munson for as long as you could, no matter what it took.

And that's how you saw it, especially after November of 1984. You had just started cheer, Eddie had started a Dungeons and Dragons Club that you frequented every Thursday and your grades were falling right into place. Life felt perfect in a way, and then Will Byers went missing. And you spent too much time helping Jonathan Byers. And then you got wrapped up into a government conspiracy.

You were in danger. White vans of men circling around you and the kids you looked after, every single communication monitored and the constant threat of something worse than mankind. It was an easy decision- you had to get Eddie away from all of this.

Will may have been back, but gates still opened, and the labs still checked on you, and you had nightmares and scars that you couldn't explain to Eddie without getting him involved. So you did what had to be done. Late December, after having ignored and avoided Eddie for what felt like forever, you cut him off.

It was a second nature to find Eddie in the midst of the trees and shrubbery behind Hawkins high. At his table, playing lazily with the old wooden planks and graffiti-ing more song lyrics and initials onto the bench where he sat. Eddie looked bored and desolate as you made your way towards him. Your nerves were working overtime and your eyes were bloodshot from the many nights without sleep, and while the pep talk from Steve helped, it wasn't enough to stop your hands from fidgeting and smoothing down the top of your uniform. Your uniform needed to be on for this to work, and the only way this would work was if Eddie bought it, if Eddie hated you.

The wind rustled through your hair and the leaves crumbled under you, one making a particularly perfect sound that alerted Eddie of your presence. As soon as he recognised you, a wide grin split on his face, the same one you had always known and the one you were about to begin to miss. You almost returned it too, the reflex being nearly too natural to bypass.

As he got up to hug you for the first time in a while, you began to speak. "I don't think we should be friends anymore," surely, if you were straightforward and neutral, this would be easier for the both of you?

"What?" His voice was small and shocked and soft. "What do you me-"

"I can't be friends with someone like you. You're a freak and I'm changing for the better." Your eyes began to gloss over. You felt dirty and cheap, using things that Eddie had told you during quiet nights over against him. How could the right thing feel so wrong?

"What are you saying," he began to laugh with a dry and quiet disbelief. Something must have been wrong, and in retrospect, Eddie would be able to see that, but for now, the sting of betrayal was enough for him to egg you on.

"You can't keep calling me, or talking to me, or even looking at me, Eddie," the tears were falling now, and your cheer jacket wasn't enough to shield you from that look in Eddie's eyes. It was one of pain and confusion and it was something you had never seen before. "I have a new life now."

And then his eyes changed and what you saw became worse. Frozen over, his eyes had become blank and lifeless, it was as if he couldn't recognise you anymore, and the truth was, you didn't recognise yourself either. But you needed to do this, to protect him.

"Fine. Fuck you," and so you left. You turned your back on Eddie and to him, you never looked back. You walked away all self-righteous and whatever and you broke his heart. Eddie Munson loved you and hated you. That's not true, Eddie Munson loves you, and he has to deal with the fact that you want nothing to do with him. For so long, he was overjoyed with just having your presence as platonic, but he should have prepared for not having it at all.

And you. Walking away with your back turned as if it wasn't harder than fighting those stupid demogorgons. Muffling your own sobs like you had when you were hiding with the kids in a random laboratory in Hawkins Middle School. Running faster to Steve's car once you had reached the Hawkins High Parking lot than you had when being chased by those special agents. Turning away from Eddie was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you had survived it, just barely.

You had made the right decision too. Closing the gate and shutting downs Hawkins Lab was one thing, and then the Russians re-opened the gate and brought out a fleshy nightmare to fight. Finally, it was all over.

The Government monitored you for a few more months, made you sign a massive NDA and transferred the largest sum of money that you had ever seen into your bank account. So you signed up for a job at the Family Video, covered your community college fees and bought a trailer in Forest Hills. You didn't mean to, but now you were living next to Eddie.

It had been years, it must be safe now to make amends. Eddie may not love you like you love him, but at least, you both could be amicable neighbours. You could see him putting out the trash and get a small and courteous smile. It wouldn't be like what you had before, but you could be content. So you baked him some cookies. His favourites had always been the brownie and chocolate chip chunk hybrid you made for his birthday. Your hand had a small burn and you cut yourself when you were cutting the chocolate, but you couldn't feel any of the pain when you saw him take the first bite of the cookie.

And so you did. You baked them and brought a warm batch over to Eddie's. You knocked after Wayne left and waited until a disgruntled Eddie opened the door. His hair was tied up in a bun and his eyes had circles and he wasn't wearing a shirt- he had definitely grown since the last time you had spoken.

"Hey," you started with a developing unease in your voice. How can you do this successfully? "I'm your new neighbour." You offered him the tray of cookies with a small smile as his eyes narrowed down into yours.

After years of ignorance and silence on your end, cookies were the solution. Bitterness and anger took the wheel and Eddie reached for tray and dumped them onto the porch. "You need to leave right now." His voice had hardened into something deep and furious and once again, you were taken back to the late December afternoon. But this time, Eddie noticed your foggy eyes, clouded over with a fresh onslaught of tears.

Your gaze was lowered to the cookies you had spent so long slaving over in the Hawkins heat. Crumbs were on your nice shoes and the chocolate was beginning to melt into the 'welcome home' mat. The trailer was a home for you. You kept falling into your thoughts, waiting for Eddie to slam the door in front of you, fuelled by his disappointment or his distaste or his detest, but it never came. Instead a calloused hand cradled your face.

You used to hold Eddie like this when he would cry, both hands holding up his face so that you could wipe the tears off, but Eddie had just realised that he had never done it back for you. He began to quietly hum and whisper, "sorry". His face had reformed into something less harsh, because under all the anger, he still missed you.

Once your eyes finally met, Eddie remembered what had happened between you, and his hands dropped. He shouldn't have said that or destroyed your cookies or held your face, but old habits die hard. Three or four years and Eddie still couldn't forget you. You cry once, and his whole resolve crumbled. You don't know about the ballads that he's written for you or campaigns in which you still make an appearance. You don't know that Eddie lied to Hellfire, saying he made you leave and you don't know that he moved Hellfire to Fridays to make sure that you could never come back without ditching cheer. You don't know how many times Eddie has thought about you in his arms, your face in his hands and you don't know about all the things he has done for you.

And now, you are so close, Eddie doesn't know what to do. You wipe your eyes. Your cheeks still burn from embarrassment and desire, you want him to hold you so delicately again.

"Can I come inside? I need to tell you about November of 1984." He opens the door wider to make space for you to enter. He needs to tell you that he's been in love with you since longer than that.

send me an ask if you want me to add onto this or make anything clear and reblog if you enjoyed this story! lots of love xxx

[strawberryraviegutz]

When getting back into crk I never realized just how toxic/unhinged ppl can be in this fandom about ships…if someone wants to ship golden cheese cookie with burning spice cookie then let them??? Same goes for burningmilk and the shipping of the ancients with their beast counterparts and or cookie run ships in general(unless it involves pedophilia and incest of course)

Idk what the issue is. I also saw someone call the golden cheese x burning spice ship racist which makes no sense at all cuz both golden cheese and burning spice are poc coded.

Golden cheese is clearly black coded due to both her skin tone and the golden cheese kingdom being heavily based off of Egypt which is apart of Africa, and burningspice is desi/Indian coded due to his design being based off of a Hindu deity..

there’s also ppl calling the ship misogynistic too which also makes no sense cuz the types of fanart these guys are talking about burningcheese getting, ive seen it loads of other ships too wether it be shadowvanilla, mystic flower x dark cacao, and so much more ships.

That’s most likely gonna be the same thing with holly berry x eternal sugar, and or white lily with silent salt when it’s their time too. Plus golden cheese is a powerful woman.

Shes extremely powerful just like burning spice and is literally the queen of an entire kingdom and doesn’t just let ppl walk all over her along with not going down without a fight

(even if golden cheese was a more “softer”meek and or shy character it still shouldn’t/wouldn’t be an issue either cuz there’s nothing inherently wrong with those types of female characters either especially since we as black women are constantly hypermasculinized and don’t get to be seen as pure, cutesy, bubbly, nor dainty little things)

Enemies to lovers in general isn’t all peaches and cream. That’s why it’s called ENEMIES to lovers. I’d argue it’s more racist to not let us black girlies have our enemies to lovers/yandere type stories/ships with a character that looks like us that we can project ourselves onto.(in this case I’m talking about golden cheese) and or assuming automatically than any ship involving a black woman x a nonblack character is automatically racist/toxic. The same thing happened with Namor and Shuri from black panther.

Obviously there’s nothing wrong with non black enemies to lovers stories I love all enemies to lovers stories/ships regardless of r the races of the characters, but the way ppl get so angry at black/poc characters(black women especially) being in enemies to lovers situations is hella weird to me even if said anger comes from a supposed nonbigoted place.

White ppl get to have loads of enemies to lovers type dynamics within stories and or ships but the minute we get an enemies to lovers ship/dynamic for us where the ship involves a black woman yall are so quick to jump and call the ship racist and or bad/toxic while treating ships involving non black and or male characters that have a similar dynamic as “more pure/wholsome/making more sense” or “the proper morally correct ship”

I swear yall can’t let black women have anything…Even then there’s most likely so much more nuances with the dynamic of golden cheese and burning spice that the shippers like to explore(like shadowvanilla) that you guys most likely choose to ignore cuz you can’t get past your hatred for a ship..

It’s fine if burningcheese is not your cup of tea and I’m not saying this fandom doesn’t have issues involving racism and or misogyny, trust me I know(all fandoms/communities have these issues). But that doesn’t give you the right to harass/attack/bully or DOXX ppl who ship it nor is it ok to assume that someone is a bigot over a FICTIONAL SHIP BETWEEN TWO ADULTS THAT ARE BOTH SUPER OLD LIKE GOOD LORD CAN YALL PLEASE JUST LET US BLACK WOMEN HAVE SOMETHING FOR ONCE??? I swear im losing hundred of braincells per second like omg can you guys just let us have this along with just blocking/muting stuff you don’t like instead of attacking ppl-

(Also no spoilers plz I’m not on buring spice’s episode of beast yeast nor am I done with the golden cheese kingdom storyline).

[maxdibert]

i saw that you used to read dramione fics and cool with hermione/krum

do you think that as a romantic ship ron is not a match with hermione? or any thoughts on ron weasley in general?

For me, the dynamic is everything in a ship. I have very specific preferences when it comes to the kind of dynamic that hooks me between two characters or the types of personalities I like. Enemies to Lovers has always been something I really enjoy, mainly because I’m a sucker for drama. I mean, I love the hard stuff: different worlds, countries at war, opposing political/social positions. The characters don’t necessarily need to be enemies, but there has to be some element that puts them on opposite sides and creates drama.

I also really love power couples—characters who are both A+ in the same field, complement each other to become even more brilliant, and have this push-and-pull dynamic with unresolved sexual tension.

In general, I’m very into the idea of two characters who have lived a lot, come from vastly different backgrounds, have been through a lot of crap, and then suddenly meet, and bam! It’s almost like a coincidence because they wouldn’t normally have crossed paths, but they do, and something unexpected comes out of it. That’s the kind of feeling I just don’t get from childhood friends to lovers. It’s something that bores me so much. I know it’s a trope many people enjoy, and I understand why, but to me, it feels super bland. Even more so if one of the characters doesn’t seem to deserve the other, like Ron, who, to me, acts like a jerk to Hermione several times. Plus, his family feels like some kind of cult.

Honestly, I think Hermione should’ve married someone in her 30s—maybe a politician or someone highly intellectual who could challenge her mentally. I picture her as a modern 21st-century woman, not just another Weasley baby-maker. I really can’t stand the Weasleys in general; they seem super toxic and have this traditional family dynamic that repels me. I firmly believe Hermione and Ron would have ended up divorcing before their 40s, once their two kids were at Hogwarts and they were left alone at home without them.

But to answer your question more directly: No, I think Ron is a boring match for Hermione. There’s no tension, just silly and childish arguments. There’s no passion, no je ne sais quoi. At least Viktor/Hermione is cute. I like it for that reason. Krum is this international star but super introverted, chased by all the girls, and suddenly he notices the one who doesn’t care about him and asks her out before anyone else. I think it’s adorable. A wholesome teenage romance that makes you smile. But honestly, since the fourth book, Ron has grossed me out in general. I see zero chemistry between him and Hermione. I imagine them having super mediocre sex, honestly, lol.

[ludicdoll]

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐔𝐏 — farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

warnings: farleigh being a little bitch, cussing, smut, eating u out like chinese takeout, a little banter, lowkey enemies to lovers type of thing

synopsis: you spend your first few days of summer at the saltburn estate. luckily for you, farleigh doesn’t seem to like you that much.

a/n: working on a few requests rnnn send in some moree!! this is for my stinkabutt @uch3na

you spread out on the lounge chair, silently sun bathing as you ponder at a magazine. you watch as felix and farleigh swim around in the vast pond. you turn your head over to venetia, smoking in front of you. she’s laid out with a towel underneath her, looking very intrigued with what she’s reading. you had been friends with her for a while now, and to your surprise, she had invited you to spend the summer at the saltburn estate. she had to convince you for weeks until you said finally said yes. you close your eyes, breathing in the fresh summer air. suddenly, you feel a giant wave of water drenching you. you yelp, immediately sitting up to see venetia quickly running back.

“what the fuck?” venetia yells out. the two boys laugh to themselves, a satisfied look on farleigh’s face. “you’re such an ass!” she grabs her stuff hastily as she sets her stuff back down elsewhere. you roll your eyes when you see farleigh waving his fingers at you mockingly.

you flip over your towel, placing on your shades before laying back down. after a while, you hear the sound of water sloshing around. farleigh gets out of the water, grabbing his towel from the grass. you watch as he pats himself down before joining you on the lounge chair next to you. he reaches over to the table, lighting up a cigarette. you hear him sigh in relief as he adjusts himself in the chair. “slutty bikini,” he mumbles under his breath. you turn, lifting your sunglasses up to get a better view of his face, “excuse you?” he turns back, his hand reaching out to you, another cigar between his fingers. he’s offering you one. you shake your head roughly, “i don’t smoke.” you reply. he scoffs, you can tell he’s rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. “of course you don’t,” he murmured as he places the cigarette back in the pack.

“it’s harmful,” you start, “i’m trying to keep my body clean.” he almost laughs in your face when you finish your sentence. “yea, well you drink like a sailor.” you turn to him, scowling. “you run through ten packs of cigs each day.” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “so? you’re the one that drinks away all of your problems.” he grumbled. you sit up, almost offended at his snarky remark. “oh c’mon, farleigh calm down.” felix intervenes. you lean back into your chair, crossing your arms. felix gets off the floatie in the water, walking over to you two. he stops abruptly, taking a sip from the cold lemonade on the table before placing his hands on his hips. felix turns his head back and forth to you and farleigh, a frown on his face. “this doesn’t sound like harmless banter anymore.” he says. farleigh shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “let it rest.” felix directs to farleigh before jumping back into the water. you huff in frustration, ignoring farleigh muttering quiet insults towards you.

you stir your soup with your spoon, glancing around occasionally to everyone else at the dinner table. you were surprised to see that everyone was almost halfway finished with their food, venetia on the other hand was just staring down at her bowl. “dear, aren’t you going to eat?” elspeth asks with a motherly smile on her face, you look over to her end of the table, nervously biting your bottom lip. to be frank, the soup was disgusting. you didn’t know what it was, but it was gross. “i happen to have an upset stomach tonight, im sorry.” you reply. “really?” farleigh buds in. “you seemed to be perfectly fine during brunch.” he says while slurping the soup into his mouth. you see venetia roll her eyes at him. elspeth turns back at you, almost like she was waiting for an answer. you furrow your brows at farleigh, pissed with his childish behavior.

“maybe i’ve gotten a stomach bug.” you say to elspeth with a smile. she nods before going back to her food. felix stares at farleigh, almost like he was communicating with his eyes. whatever it was, farleigh had stayed quiet for the entirety of the meal. after dinner — everyone said goodnight, then went their separate ways to their bedrooms. you walk up to your guest bedroom, undressing yourself from the fancy dress you were forced to put on for dinner into your night gown. you make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth. coincidentally, your bedroom was right next to farleigh’s. due to your rooms being so close, you could hear farleigh blasting music. you groan, spitting out your toothpaste and jumping back in bed.

you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore farleigh’s music through the walls. after a few minutes, you turn to your side, covering your ears with the pillow — still, nothing worked to muffle the sounds. you sit up, throwing your legs over the bed and walking down the hall to farleigh’s room. you don’t bother knocking, just barging in. farleigh’s in bed, an arm behind his head while the other was flipping through a magazine. you turn a knob on his radio, the volume lowers. you clear your throat, arms crossed. annoyed, farleigh drops his magazine into his lap, looking over at you in his doorway. he sits up, leaning back on the palm of his hands. he tilts his head to the side, raising a brow.

“what the fuck is your problem, why are you still up at this hour?” you whisper-yell. he rolls his eyes, looking into his lap. “are you trying to piss me off?” you push again, “you know, people are trying to sleep.” farleigh scoffs, lulling his head back. “and? this isn’t your home.” he snaps back. you stretch out your arms before they fall to your side. “this isn’t yours either, more like a personal fucking playground.” you reply. “you keep trying to start shit with me ever since i got here.” he straightens up, acting intrigued in what you had to say. “you know, i don’t understand why venetia likes you so much. i can see right through you.”

you widen your eyes, almost laughing at his response. “yea? i’m just trying to have a good summer, and i don’t give a shit what you think. you need to lay off, it’s getting annoying.” your hands settle on your hips. he glares at you in silence, an irritated look on his face. “if you don’t give a shit, why are you in my room?” he says with an arrogant smirk on his face. you stutter, trying to think of something to say. “because you’re blasting your music at twelve in the fucking morning.” you point to his radio, crossing your arms back in front of your chest. “keep it down, and maybe i won’t bother you.”

“i find that hard to believe.” farleigh breathes out as he picks up the magazine again. he start flipping through the pages like he’s reading, occasionally looking over at you with that same smug look. you stomp closer to the end of his bed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “i swear, if you keep pulling this bullshit with me, i’m gonna make sure the remainder of your summer goes to shit.” you threaten, he doesn’t react, only looking up at you with an amused expression. he closes the magazine before sliding off the bed and walking towards you. you step back as he gets closer, his height towering over you. you swallow, a nervous knot forming in your stomach. “you’re not gonna do anything.” he breathes out.

your only a few inches away from his face when you feel a hand travel up to the back of your neck, his lips grazing over yours. the sudden movement causes you to whimper. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with passion. his hands find their way to your waist. he pushes you against the closed door — kissing your neck. you moan, rolling your head back. “i fucking hate you,” you whisper. “i know,” he says while his hand gropes your breasts. the ache between your legs spreads throughout your body like a fever, and farleigh could sense it. he plays around with the lace hem of your panties, his breath brushing up against your ear.

you groan, grabbing at his hand. “stop doing that.” you whimper, “stop doing what?” he asks smugly. you stay quiet — realizing he’s amused by your slight whining. he flashes a smirk at you, his fingers making their way to your pussy. farleigh kisses down your chest, you feel himself grind against your stomach while his fingers spread you out. you bite back a moan when farleigh ghosts past your clit, teasing you. he watches your face closely as he slides his fingers inside of you slowly. your knees feel weak, trembling under his touch. “if you hate me so much, why are you soaked?” he questions. you avoid his question while looking away. he tilts his head the to side to kiss you, his fingers sliding in and out of you.

“fuck, farleigh.” you moan softly trying to keep your voice down so the whole family doesn’t hear you. farleigh rubs circles over your clit, his eyes locked onto you. he keeps his pace slow and deliberate — almost like he was mocking you. he liked keeping you on your toes, constantly needing all of him. “how long have you pretended to hate me, huh?” he groans out as you squirm. you roll your eyes from the pleasure, but also from his conceited question. “shut up.” he laughs, shrugging before going in to kiss your parted lips. he pulls his fingers out, the wet squelching sounds making you slightly embarrassed. he ghosts his thumb over your clit again, smirking. “c’mere,” he mutters as he softly tugs you close to the bed.

you lay down on the comforter, your legs handing off the edge of the bed. you watch as he kneels down, kissing up from your calves to your thighs carefully. the tension in the room is heavy, thick with desire and lust. he kisses the inner part of your thigh before moving his lips closer to your clothed pussy. you feel him press a kiss on the fabric before he slides them off to your ankles. his face is hidden under your silk dress, but you don’t need to see him to vision his pretty brown eyes looking up at you. he licks at your dripping cunt, lifting your legs up to rest atop his broad shoulders.

his sharp teeth grazes your sensitive flesh, nipping and kissing your thighs until his bite marks sinks into your skin. he’s sloppy, burying his face deep between your legs, and lapping at your clit repeatedly, drooling all over it and groping at your thighs. he clings onto your figure, suffocating himself with your legs and your pretty pussy. “mhm, mmm..” he hums out. farleigh doesn’t wanna breathe, just wants to continue fucking you with his mouth until he makes a mess out of you. he wants you to feel embarrassed and ashamed of letting him do this to you.

farleigh groans under the dress, his cruel tongue swirling over your swollen clit. you curl your toes, biting down on your bottom lip to hide your lewd sighs. he licks a long stripe down your pussy, savoring your taste on his tongue. you tense up when you feel his tongue seeping inside of you. his soft hands come up to grip your skin, his nails digging into the plush of your soft thighs. “just like that,” you arch your back, gripping onto the blanket for dear life. one of his hands come back down to your pussy, his thumb playing around with your clit. you whine at the sensitivity as you start tearing up. you were pissed at yourself for enjoying this moment so much, farleigh was never going to let this night go. he would use this against you in every argument, maybe even blackmail you with this.

his nose presses up against your pussy as he eats you out like a desperate starved man. “farleigh, please, please let me cum — oh fuck!” you moan loudly when his circular motions on your clit intensifies, causing you to beg and cry for that sweet release you wanted so badly. farleigh continues to flick his tongue deep inside of you, your wetness all over his face. you hear him groaning as you realize you’re reaching your peak. your dripping cunt is throbbing in arousal, your hair is a disheveled mess, your night gown has now completely fallen down your shoulders. you arch your back, feeling the sudden ecstasy run through your body like electricity. you sob when you feel yourself squirting all over farleigh’s face, your body jolting up from the sudden pleasure. you shiver, realizing you’re too weak to get up.

farleigh peaks his head up from under your nightgown, his eyes glued onto your pussy dripping with his saliva and your cum. he has a light playful smirk on his face, not too noticeable in the dim atmosphere in his room. you see his spit and your wetness dripping down his chin. he pulls your legs up to your chest, watching as his fingers slide down the folds of your pussy one last time before licking his hands off. your tears are dried on your face, glossy eyes looking up at his large towering figure. farleigh leans down just inches away from your face. “you still hate me now?” he asks.

© do not publish my writings on other sites.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters: What's Your Favorite Romance Book to Read/Listen To?

As requested by @cosmereplay :)

To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm quite doing what cosmereplay was envisioning, but this is what I got! :) This is in honor of Ardent Ellista, whom we see reading An Accountability of Virtue, which seems to be a courtly love-triangle epic romance tale. So what type of romance books do other Cosmere characters enjoy?

1. Vivenna

Vivenna: My favorite romance growing up was All the Colors of the Heart, about a princess betrothed from birth to this prince. And although she was scared, she was determined to make the best of it. Vivenna: Then it turned out he was very evil so she killed him and took over his kingdom and married his super hot, non-evil sister. Vivenna: As a young girl, I read that book over and over and over again... Susebron: H-Ha, it's so nice to meet your family, Siri...

2. Siri

Siri: Well, I always liked Dusk, about a girl who had to choose between the love of a frightening but alluring Returned who had to steal breath to live and a wolf man. Vivenna: Ugh, so unrealistic though. Why would a Returned who was thousands of years old want to hang out with a teenage girl anyway? Vasher: Sometimes she just insists on tagging along and won't stop. Vivenna: HEY

3. Adolin

Adolin: Look, An Accountability of Virtue is popular for a reason. Adolin: It has everything! Balls! Fancy clothing! Pining! Adolin: And of course, a happy ending. Adolin: Personally, I think I'm quite the Sterling. Shallan: You are. Adolin: Yessssss.

5. Moash

Moash: I like pretty much anything that's lovers to enemies. Leshwi: ... Leshwi: You mean enemies to lovers? Moash: Don't be ridiculous.

6. Painter

Painter: I like a good gothic romance. Painter: Two twisted people, scorned by society, finding a dark and bitter love in each other... Painter: Always ends tragically... Painter: That's the good stuff for a dark soul like mine. Yumi: Really? Because the book on your nightstand is... Painter: I'M HOLDING MAID CAFE LOVE FOR A FRIEND

7. Raboniel

Raboniel: The Fused have a tale about two of our kind who were soulmates. Raboniel: But they could never find a way to be together. Raboniel: One would be reborn while the other still remained on Braize. Raboniel: The one would escape only for the other to be killed within their very sight. Navani: .... Navani: And that's your, uh, favorite romance? Raboniel: All of our stories are like that.

8. Dieno

Dieno: Silly and poorly written it may be, but it's Fifty Lengths of Chain for me. Jasnah: ...Is that really a romance, though? The cover art is just...shackles. Dieno: Romance comes in many forms.

9. Steris

Steris: Well, as embarrassing as this may be to admit... I have always been a big fan of bodice-rippers. Wax: ... Wax: So, uh, we never negotiated about role-play, but... Steris: I'LL GET MY SPECIALLY DESIGNED RIPPABLE BODICE

10. Dalinar

Dalinar: My favorite romance is of course the story of me and Navani. Navani: Awww! Dalinar: But my second favorite romance is the explicit self-insert fanfiction I wrote about myself and Nohadon. Navani: ... Navani: You just learned to write. Dalinar: The world needed to know.