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kiwi-bitchez · 7 months

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Double Down, Triple Threat

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension.

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending.

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics.

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways.

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something."

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order.

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret.

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on.

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that.

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were.

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers.

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar.

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well.

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig.

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him.

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface.

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer.

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him.

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that."

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull.

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards.

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night.

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot.

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive.

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot.

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something."

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road.

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt.

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong.

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk.

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one.

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood.

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper.

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful.

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door.

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks.

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go."

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step.

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking.

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live."

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies.

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?"

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought.

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat.

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here."

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights.

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought.

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?"

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar.

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on.

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped.

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close.

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy.

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.”

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside.

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now.

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane.

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this.

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond.

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that.

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say.

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile.

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago.

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips.

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window.

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form.

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much.

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue.

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner.

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise.

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be.

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.”

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath.

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch.

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief.

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow.

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind.

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there.

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing.

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights.

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow.

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.”

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel.

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale.

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request.

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut.

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did.

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it.

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off.

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.”

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances.

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over.

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were.

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…”

He understood, he hated how much he understood.

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him.

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run.

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat.

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive.

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt.

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails.

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers.

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed.

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point.

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction.

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale.

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot.

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice.

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip.

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction.

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?”

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill.

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away.

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands.

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom.

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on.

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself.

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark.

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked.

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you.

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious.

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present.

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed.

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream.

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go.

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around.

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin.

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways?

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away.

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back.

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel.

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging.

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.”

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.”

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most.

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs.

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way.

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you.

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time.

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?”

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him.

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand.

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary.

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else.

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes.

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch.

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top?

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching.

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment.

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point.

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end.

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold.

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean.

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two.

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his.

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could.

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen.

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong.

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep.

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you.

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months.

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control.

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed.

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze.

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue.

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true.

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper.

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment.

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall.

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl.

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time.

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over.

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was.

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear.

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.”

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this.

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.”

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips.

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn��t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you.

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom.

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips.

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom.

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets.

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you.

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed.

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away.

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself.

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect.

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck.

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body.

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long.

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs.

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up.

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks.

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.”

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away.

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.”

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit.

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred.

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.”

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask.

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest.

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip.

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle.

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?”

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you.

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning.

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest.

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit.

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand.

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time.

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment.

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare.

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening.

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more.

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more.

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time.

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go.

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you.

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time.

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state.

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you.

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you.

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could.

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all.

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now.

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter.

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue.

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you.

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you.

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts.

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future.

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page.

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips.

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake.

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his.

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours.

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses.

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.”

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center.

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you.

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name.

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release.

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements.

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm.

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name.

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van.

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets.

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss.

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all.

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice.

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come.

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

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actiniumwrites · 1 year

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒

synopsis: in which you friendzone them to protect your feelings, ignorant to the way they feel about you

characters: diluc, xiao, and kaveh x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, , slight swearing (i think), mentions of alcohol/ being drunk, spoilers for kaveh’s backstory, kaveh’s part is actually so long i’m so sorry

notes: got the idea for this out of the blue, but really liked it! i had a lot of fun writing these and would honestly be down to make a part two if you guys want it. also kaveh’s part was written before he was officially released this patch, so if anything is inaccurate, i apologize!

Diluc:

When Diluc had asked you to attend an event at his house in honor of the winery, you hadn’t expected it to be so extravagant. Though, perhaps it was because it was the first time you had ever been to his house. Either way, you were in awe at the sheer luxuriousness everything seemed to possess.

“Wow, I seriously cannot believe you’ve never invited me to your house before,” you tease as your eyes glanced around the room. The dining table was huge and lined with various dishes you didn’t even know existed. Not to mention what the entire house looked like in general. You were too scared to touch anything in fear of it breaking.

“I did invite you over — several times, if you can recall. But according to you, you’re just so busy you never have the time,” the red haired male corrected you as he moved slightly behind you to guide you across the room, shoulders bumping together every so often.

“Well if I had known you were living like this maybe I would’ve made the time,” you joked, intentionally bumping your shoulder into his as you threw a smile toward him. His eyes averted themselves from your face and smiled off into the distance, completely ignoring your jests about his wealth.

The two of you had continued to joke around with each other playfully as he walked you around his house to give you a tour of sorts. You had noticed all the people around as you walked, all laughing and enjoying the delicious food and wine Diluc had provided. Even Kaeya was here, you noted to your own surprise, seemingly catching up with some of the maids.

“Oh, I almost forgot, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Diluc interrupted your moment to observe. His hand moved to the lower half of your back to guide you in the direction of blonde haired woman in maid attire. Your hand shook hers as Diluc introduced her to you, “This is Adelinde, the head housemaid of the winery.”

You smiled and told her your name, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Diluc’s best friend.”

“Oh,” she said strangely, as if you had said something wrong. Almost seamlessly, Adelinde covered up her tone as she spoke again, “Ahem, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Please do enjoy yourselves tonight and let me know if you need anything.”

Diluc cleared his throat and put his hand around your shoulders as you said your goodbyes. Although, the second she was out of your sights, he dropped it, “So, how about some food?”

You hesitated, sensing something was wrong. His smile looked stiff, like it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. You could almost sense desperation within his tone, like he didn’t want you to start your usual interrogation when you thought something was wrong, “Oh um, sure.”

He walked you over to the table standing next to your side, but didn’t dare to put a hand on you like usual. It wasn’t something you often paid any attention toward, but now it just felt weird — cold even.

“I’ll go grab you some fresh wine from the cellar, take whatever you’d like,” Diluc said quickly before rushing away. Your brow furrowed as you watched him disappear from your sight.

“What’s with the frown?” a silk voice asked. Your eyes snapped up to meet the blue haired man you knew to be Diluc’s brother, Kaeya.

“Long time no see, Kaeya,” you said, turning your attention back to the food as you served yourself a plate. Kaeya grabbed one too and began filling it as well.

“Oh, you should try these, they’re delicious,” he said as he placed a small dessert on your plate, “but don’t tell Diluc I said that. Can’t have him thinking I like his baking or anything.”

He continued as he grabbed himself another glass of wine off the table next to the food, “Anyway, what’s up with the gloom expression? Don’t tell me Diluc hurt your feelings?”

“No,” you grumble. It had been awhile since you had last seen Kaeya. Not that it was on purpose, because honestly, you never had a problem with him like Diluc did. Time just didn’t seem to allow the two of you to meet aside from a few times a year. “If anything, it was the other way around. Problem is, I don’t know what I did.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, Diluc is very fond of y—“

“Kaeya. Leave them alone,” Diluc interrupts with an annoyed look, shooing Kaeya away. Kaeya leaves without a word. A sly expression was on his face, hoping you would catch on to what he was trying to tell you.

Diluc held the bottle of wine in front of him, silently offering you some. You nodded your head and he poured you a glass before making another excuse to walk off again. The same thing seems to happen a few more times before you reach the end of the night. What had started off as a fun event for the two of you to enjoy, seemed to trickle into nothing but misery for the both of you.

The walk home was quiet. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why he had offered to walk you home if he was just going to stay silent the entire time, “You didn’t have to walk me home if you’re just gonna have to walk all the way back, y’know?”

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, not even making eye contact with you, “I have to go to Angel’s Share anyway. There’s some paperwork I have to pick up.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent again for the next ten minutes of the walk. It isn’t until you’re approaching the bridge to the city that you speak up again, “Diluc?”

“Yeah?”

You sighed and stopped walking, “Listen…did I maybe, I don’t know, say or do something to upset you? Because if I did, I’m really sorry and I just want things to not be awkward between us.”

You could tell he was contemplating not answering you by the frustrated expression on his face. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally spoke, still staring somberly off into the distance, “Answer this honestly. What are we? What is this?” His hands gestured between you and him as he spoke. His tone is rushed and there’s bitterness behind it.

“Well, we’re friends…aren’t we?” you carefully asked, almost questioning yourself.

“That’s the problem,” Diluc finally cracked, “I don’t want to be just friends. This entire time I thought that maybe there was something more than that between us…but I suppose I was wrong.”

Your eyes widened and your hands moved to grip tightly around his own before he could walk away from you again, “Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve told you I felt the same if you had just, I don’t know? Said something about it? How was I supposed to know you had feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry, what? So you do feel the same way?”

You put two and two together and a teasing smiled made it’s way back to your face,“Archons, was this all because I introduced myself as your best friend to Adelinde?”

“What? No, of course not,” Diluc adamantly denied your accusation. He grabbed your hand and began to pull you away while you burst out laughing at the realization, “You’ve had too much to drink.”

“No! I barely drank anything, you liar,” you punched his shoulder, “Admit it, you were upset you got friendzoned and —“

Diluc turned around swiftly, pulled you toward him and placed his lips on yours within a matter of seconds, effectively shutting you up. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled away and began to walk you to your house. When you arrived at your doorstep, you turned around and placed one final kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” you smiled. Diluc looked away again, failing to resist the smile that tugged at his lips. It was the first time Diluc had been genuinely happy in a long time.

He smiled as he turned away from your house to leave, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Xiao:

Xiao felt his heart racing when he heard your voice calling his name from somewhere in Liyue. Somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint. There was pain in it, and Xiao hated when you said his name in any way that wasn’t positive.

“Xiao! Please,” he heard you call out again, this time more pained than the last. The sound of your cries echoed in his ears and a feeling of his own pain surrounded his heart.

A few seconds longer and you could’ve ended up dead. It’s all Xiao could think about when he finally made it to you, heavily breathing in and out from how scared he was to lose you.

You were covered in bruises and bathed in blood — whether or not it was your own, he wasn’t sure. Your eyes were half shut and your head was leaned back in relief at the sight of him. Several abyss mages of varying elements lie dead on the ground around you. Your polearm lay amongst them, cracked in half and dented all over.

Xiao spotted your vision a few feet away, anemo like his own. He gathered it quickly alongside your polearm before securing it on him so he could pick you up. Once his arms were wrapped carefully around you, he didn’t hesitate to teleport away and back to the inn.

“Here, lay down,” he spoke curtly. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he moved across the room to fetch his medical supplies. This wasn’t the first time he had to treat your injuries, but it wasn’t often that it was this bad.

Xiao worked quickly with your injuries, it was effortless and he was careful not to hurt you. Unbeknownst to you, his heart was racing out of control the entire time. Not only was there left over anxiety from when you had first called for him, but it had carried over and made itself at home as he worked away at your injuries. There was too much red oozing out of your body and the bruises were only growing.

What if he hadn’t gotten there on time? What if he was only a few seconds later? What if he hadn’t heard you call out for him?

“Archons, I am feeling so much better,” you interrupted his poisonous thoughts. Your leg was lifted into the air as you inspected the bandages wrapped around it and all the bloodied rags that sat beside you on the floor.

Xiao’s eyes hardened for a moment while looking over you, an unreadable expression within them, “Please do not get injured like this again.”

Contrary to his eyes, yours softened and you took his hand in yours, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just—“

“It’s fine,” he cut you off when he began to feel weird, not used to people caring about his feelings. Xiao helped you up and out of the bed, his arms wrapped around yours to keep you stable as he walked you to the bathroom counter to finally change out of your bloodied clothes.

Your face was close to his as you spoke, “No, Xiao, really. I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve helped me out and even allowed me to help you. You just mean so much to me and I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.”

‘So lucky to have you as a friend’

It echoed in his mind over and over again, more than the voices of his late yaksha friends. For once, another source of pain had finally outmatched his past.

You didn’t see him how he saw you.

Xiao felt his body go cold at the realization. He remained oddly silent as he helped you to the bathroom, not even bothering to give you a response or so much as a simple nod. As soon as you were actually in the bathroom, he backed up immediately and nodded before mumbling something about needing to take care of some other stuff. He had even disappeared before you could utter a goodbye.

Not returning for hours was something you were used to when it came to Xiao. He wasn’t social at all, and that was something you readily accepted when you first offered to become friends with him — even if he declined over and over again.

But hours turned into days and days turned into a week. Xiao hadn’t returned since that night you were injured.

You weren’t sure what happened to him. Maybe he was hurt while out protecting, or maybe he was just in one of those weird social slumps again. But when Xiao finally ran into you one day, it was undeniably awkward between the two of you.

“Xiao?” you urgently called out to him, a mix of worry and shock in your voice, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied bluntly, eyes barely looking at yours. He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

You squinted your eyes, analyzing him carefully, “That’s it? I haven’t seen you for a week! I get injured and then all of the sudden you just freak out and leave? It doesn’t make any sense. Listen, if something happened, you can tell—“

“Nothing happened. I said I’m fine,” he cut you off before turning his body and grabbing his polearm, ready to teleport off like he always did. You quickly grabbed his arm before he could though, a tight grip that wasn’t painful but made sure he couldn’t escape.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Ugh, could you stop holding my hand like that.”

“Huh?” Your phase morphed into shock, confused as to why he suddenly cared about you holding his hand. You’d done it in the past, so it wasn’t like it was anything new to him. Besides, you were always careful not to do anything to freak him out.

“If we are just friends, then I do not want you holding my hand like that,” Xiao said before pulling his hand from yours with a harsh sigh.

“Wait, what?” you asked quickly before he could leave, “What does this have to do with us being friends?”

Xiao stared blankly at you for a few seconds, like he was contemplating whether or not he should speak again, until finally, he confessed, “The other day…you thanked me for being such a good friend. That is not what I want.”

A pang hit your chest and a tiny prick rippled behind your eyes at his confession, “You don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“Huh? Why would you think such idiotic things? No— I mean yes, I do want to be your friend. But I do not want to be…just friends,” Xiao explained. His cheeks were beginning to turn red and his eyes averted even more. He was nervous, you finally realized.

“You…you have feelings for me? Xiao, you should’ve told me. Avoiding me for a week straight wasn’t cool, you know?”

Xiao nods and crosses his arms, seemingly unsatisfied with your answer until you added on, “I have feelings for you too. I really like you, Xiao. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were just a friend, but I also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or scare you off or something.”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. His hand twitched before it quietly reached for your own and took it in his. His grip was firm, like he was scared you would leave.

“Xiao?” You grabbed his attention when you noticed his eyes falter, like he still couldn’t quite grasp the reality of your feelings.

“Yes?”

“I really like you, okay? I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”

Kaveh:

“Kaveh! Look at this!” your smile lit up as you dragged Kaveh toward a merchant selling various little trinkets. Kaveh willingly followed, idiotically smiling behind you at your childlike excitement. His hand tightly gripped around yours to ensure you wouldn’t go too far or get separated from him.

The two of you had decided to take a greatly needed break after working for hours upon hours each day for the past two weeks on a shiny new blueprint for a brand new Akademiya research center in the desert. The complications of what the research required versus the heat in the desert and its effect on the lab materials was making it difficult to come up with a practical, yet complex enough lab for the researchers. The headache it had brought upon the two of you was no joke, and you had finally realized that a break was the only thing that would get you through the block you were collectively stuck in.

“Hello, dears,” the old woman spoke gently, a bright smile on her face that perfectly creased her eyes. She had an immensely warm aura to her and you couldn’t help but match her smile. Kaveh glanced to you, a small smile gracing his own face as his cheeks turned slightly pink. He couldn’t help it after he saw how good you looked today.

“So,” you started, eyes bouncing around to each and every item she had to sell, “How long has your shop been open? Everything here looks so beautiful!”

“Oh, why thank you, dear! It’s been open for nearly two decades now. It is indeed strange to see how much time has passed,” she answered happily, reminiscing on the early days of her shop. She had told you how she opened it with her husband, but how he had long since passed, to which Kaveh and you had offered your respects.

Your eyes danced over all the trinkets again, but you couldn’t help but notice the little figurines that looked like creatures from your childhood. You couldn’t quite place where you knew them from, but you picked it up regardless and fidgeted with it before turning to Kaveh, “I think I’m gonna get this one, what do you think?”

“It’s cute,” he said with a gentle smile, admiring the little blue plant like figure in your hand, “I think I’ll get one in red.”

You finished paying the kind woman for your purchases and thanked her dearly once the two of you were done. The conversation had continued a little while afterward, with both you and Kaveh intrigued in the stories she kindly shared with you.

The sun was beginning to near its setting time, you noticed. The blues were fading to oranges and reds and the air was beginning to get a little colder, signaling the night was on its way.

“Thank you again,” you told her, “These are really nice, I’ll be sure to place them in my workroom so I can see it everyday!”

“Oh, that’s awfully kind of you, dear. I must say, I admire the way you treat everyone as your friend. It’s truly a rare quality to find in someone these days,” she gushed.

“Thank you! I really just try to make everyone feel comfortable and welcome,” you explained before you said your goodbyes. The woman said her goodbyes too, telling the two of you to visit her again sometime soon and tell her all about the architectural work you guys do.

Kaveh nearly stopped in his tracks as he processed the conversation the two of you just had. You hadn’t even caught the hesitation in his voice or the sudden change in his mood.

You treat everyone like that?

“Ugh, she was so nice, wasn’t she?” you rambled, but Kaveh was only half listening. Not that you had noticed that either.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” he blurted out, not entirely sure that he had even heard you correctly. His eyes followed the pattern of his shoes pressing against the floor as he swung the bag next to him back and forth, lost in thought. You didn’t question him once.

It was quiet for the rest of the walk aside from you announcing that you were tired and were going to check in for the night. Kaveh had agreed and walked you home all while hoping that you wouldn’t notice his sudden quietness.

If Kaveh was being honest, his brain felt like it was spiraling out of control.

One moment he’s walking around with you all day, enjoying his time off. And the next, he can’t stop replaying a silly conversation with an old woman who he barely knew.

The worst part is, he couldn’t help but take it personally. Being treated like he was on a pedestal and then having it ripped away is something Kaveh is used to, but he never thought he would have to go through it with you.

You made him feel special, like one of a kind. The way your eyes always lit up so brightly when you greeted him at work everyday. The way you hugged him when you were feeling down and no one else. The way you always treated him to food and drinks without ever asking him to pay you back because you knew he was struggling — and not once did you ever make him feel bad about it. The way you would jump to hold his hand when you got excited about something or when you were scared when lightning would strike.

You never did any of those things with anyone else. But all this time, you made everyone feel like they were your friend, like they were special in their own way. For all he knew, you did little things like that with everyone and made them feel like one of a kind too. Maybe Kaveh was nothing, he thought, maybe he was really just like everyone else. Just your friend and nothing more.

Kaveh bowed his head to his chest when he arrived home, his hand leaned forward to support himself as he felt the tears coming on. Being emotional or overdramatic was something Alhaitham had always criticized him for, but you? You always taught him to embrace it and let what he was feeling out. You had helped him with so much of his life and moving on toward bigger and better things, but now he couldn’t help but feel bitterness in his heart.

The keys in the blonde’s hand returned back to his pocket almost immediately after retrieving them. His palm dragged down the gray wall of Alhaitham’s house and back to his side. Kaveh couldn’t bear to enter his own home, not at this hour with such painful thoughts in his mind. Alhaitham would probably nag him anyway, and he really didn’t feel like dealing with his cruel words tonight — and Kaveh never liked when they were about you. You didn’t deserve that, even if it was just a joke.

And so he returned to the tavern once more in his life. Drinking away his problems was unhealthy, you had told him, but right now he didn’t care. You weren’t here and there was no one around to stop him from throwing back drink after drink. It had been a long time since Kaveh had been truly drunk, but today was enough to turn him away from sobriety.

“Kaveh. Get up.” A voice echoed painfully in his ears.

“[Name]?” he mumbled out incoherently as he blindly reached toward the figure in front of him. Their hand swatted his away before swooping under to pick him up. Kaveh mumbled your name a few more times, desperately trying to figure out what was happening.

“Why are you at the Tavern, Kaveh? Have you not learned your lesson about drinking?”

Oh. That’s who it was. Kaveh should have known by the sharpness in the voice or the annoying familiarity it held.

“Alhaitham? Get off of me,” he tried pushing the Scribe away. Alhaitham didn’t budge as he slammed a few bills on the table and carried Kaveh out of the Tavern. Lambad waved him off, but thanked him for taking care of the architect.

Your name continued to slur from his mouth, blending together into what almost sounded like gibberish. Not to mention the near beating Alhaitham had endured as he carried Kaveh around Sumeru.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t expected a knock at your door at nearly two in the morning.

“Alhaitham? What’s going on? Why do you have Kaveh?” you quickly questioned. Alhaitham shoved Kaveh toward you, a pained groan falling from his lips as he fell into you. The Scribe explained the situation to you. How he had never seen Kaveh come home that night, but later found him at Lambad’s Tavern drinking himself to death as he cried to the sound of your name.

You could only muster a silent nod out, confused but entirely willing to take care of Kaveh. You cared a lot for him after all. Alhaitham had shown himself out afterward, telling you to drop him back off tomorrow so he won’t bother you too much with all his whining. You breathed out a strained laugh and then shut the door before you turned your attention back to Kaveh and helped him to your couch.

“Kaveh?” you asked gently as you tucked a blanket over his shivering body. Teary red eyes stared back at you blankly, refusing to answer. You sighed and then nodded, accepting he may not have been willing to tell you anything. And although you had never outright admitted it, drunk Kaveh was not someone you enjoyed dealing with, “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me anyway,” he scoffed and turned away like a child who just got told they couldn’t have their favorite toy. You wanted to say your patience was wearing thin, but honestly, you could never truly be mad at Kaveh.

“Kaveh.”

It was silent for a moment. You could only see about half of Kaveh’s face as he buried the other half in the side of the couch with his hair covering parts of his eyes. The quiver of his lip, however, was not amiss to you. Neither was the quiet sniffle or the tears that gently slid down his face.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered to you, voice cracking as a hand quickly moved to his mouth to muffle his cries. He hoped you didn’t hear, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

“It’s not nothing. You’re hurt, Kaveh,” you rubbed his back. Kaveh leaned into your touch and brought his head up to meet your eyes.

Teary eyes stared into yours and he sighed before speaking, giving into you like he wished he always could have, “I thought I was more than just a friend to you. But I was stupid and I realized today that I’m not any more special than anyone else. You treat me just like you treat everyone else because you’re so kind and caring and— Archons, I am so stupid to believe that we were ever more than that.”

Kaveh paused before he spoke again, voice shakier than before, “I really don’t want you to leave, but I get it if you want to or if you don’t want to be friends anymo—”

Your lips were on his before he could finish his sentence. When you pulled back, you noticed his eyes widened like he had sobered up all at once, “You are special to me, Kaveh. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t.”

Kaveh smiled as a few more tears spilled out of his eyes, “You really mean it?”

“With my whole heart.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #diluc #xiao #kaveh #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh x y/n

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sorryimananti-romantic · 1 year

Text

Deja Vu

hades!seonghwa x persephone!reader / prosecutor!seonghwa x florist!reader

past life/reincarnation au

genre and warnings: a lot of fluff, lots of angst, slow burn, suggestive, swearing, violence warning

word count: 22k

synopsis: you move to the city to open a floral cafe with wooyoung but encounter seonghwa by chance and become involved with him as he investigates the biggest drug scandal in the history of wonderland. however, a number of coincidences follow and you start to question if you were meant to meet him especially when you're plagued by dreams of another life with him. as the events of the past intertwine with the present, you both struggle to keep your feelings in check.

There were a number of things you had been afraid of ever since you moved into the heart of Sector 1 to live with your friend Siyeon after spending your whole childhood with your overbearing mother at the outskirts of the town.

Some of them included the ‘basic’ fears that you shared with your mom- you’d get into an accident, get kidnapped, get in trouble, etc. The list was never ending and also unlikely to happen if you had to say.

Your own fears were more like your mom paying a surprise visit to check on you, finding Siyeon doing something weird like she was always doing and take you back home. Or, she could be visiting the city and accidentally run across you and Wooyoung while you scrooged the area for a potential place for your cafe, find Wooyoung doing some crazy shit like he was always doing, and lose her blind trust in him and take you back home. You were surrounded by the craziest people but somehow, your mother trusted you with both Siyeon and Wooyoung.

However, as you grabbed the hand of a stranger and ran for your life while gunshots sounded behind you, your first thought was, now that’s one scenario I didn’t prepare myself for. Especially when you didn’t even know why you were running.

You ran from one street into another, his hand gripping yours tightly, until you took the lead and slid into a narrow alley, hiding yourselves behind large boxes. You both waited for the sound of running footsteps to fade when you finally looked at him-

And found a very familiar face staring at you. You frowned in confusion- you had definitely seen him somewhere, but you couldn’t recall where. And he, too, frowned as if he was trying to make sense of you. You scanned his appearance- he was dressed in a suit, his dark hair matted on his forehead, eyes sharp. You licked your dry lips. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

“If you’re wondering why I dragged you,” he said and you thought his rich deep voice sounded familiar too, “Those men were after me. They wouldn’t have cared if you had gotten in the way- they would have hurt you.”

You rested your head against the wall, trying not to groan. You were out of breath. The man asked you to wait and went to check if the area was clear. He returned looking relieved and offered you his hand which you took to get up. He took out a card. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I’m sorry for involving you- investigation went wrong.”

You gave him a sceptical look as you scanned the card. “Must be a dangerous case you’re working on.”

“You could say that,” he shrugged. “Are you alright? You scraped your feet- let me take a look at that.”

Before you could protest, he was down on one knee examining the long slash across your feet. It wasn’t noticeable when you were running but it ached now. You stepped back. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It looks painful,” he bit his lips as he got up, looking guilty.

“I didn’t even notice it before-”

“Let me accompany you to the convenience store then,” he insisted.

“It’s not necessary,” you almost pouted but he didn’t look like he was going to back away. “Okay. I’ll accept that as an apology.”

He scoffed, urging you to follow him, watching you to check if you had a problem walking. Thankfully, you didn’t and you walked with him to the store which was a few minutes away. He made you sit inside and paid for the first aid and while you applied ointment on the wound, he made you some ramen and even got a few side dishes.

“You didn’t have to,” you smiled at the gesture.

“I also need something in my system right now,” he sighed, sliding you the chopsticks. “I must say that I didn’t expect you to be this calm about it.”

You wondered if you could tell him that there were a number of scenarios you were more scared about, and most of them included your mother. “I’ve seen worse. Not guns,” you corrected when he raised his eyebrows at you. “But… yeah, nevermind. I guess I’m good at keeping my cool.”

“You must be, Miss…”

You told him your name and he nodded along, taking a bite of his ramen. You watched him curiously. “Is this your first time being chased like this?”

“Not really, no,” he replied. “Sadly, I’m kind of used to this now.”

“That’s a shame,” you took a bite, thinking. “I mean… what if something happens to you? Because you could have died- we could have died tonight. So if you die now, won't you have any regrets?”

He gave you a curious look and you memorised his face- he was very handsome, you noticed. You couldn’t stop staring at him and you were wondering if it was because you wanted to recall where you had seen him or because he simply was too handsome to not look at. He took a deep breath. “I would like to finish this case before I die. It’s more complicated than I thought and if I don’t get to the end of it, I’m afraid no one will.”

“That’s a work-related regret,” you pointed out in disappointment.

“What about you?”

“Well, I also have unfinished business, quite literally,” you laughed. “I’m opening a floral cafe with my friend. I’ve been dreaming about it for like, a decade. I’d like to serve at least one customer before I die.”

“Isn’t that a work-related regret as well?”

“It’s my dream too, but I suppose you’re right,” you grinned and he joined despite himself, waiting for your answer. “I’d like to explore a bit. Live a little.”

Seonghwa could resonate with that. “I think I’d like to live a little too.”

You nodded, finishing the food. “Thank you so much for this- you really didn’t have to.”

“Consider it my apology for involving you,” he said. “Can I have your contact number? I might have to call you for a witness statement, if you’re alright with that.”

“Sure,” you took out his card and texted him on the number. “I don’t think I’ll have much to say though.”

“That’s okay, it’s just for paperwork,” he assured you and you got up, telling him you’d take a cab back home. You watched him leave first and then you slumped down on the chair as you wondered if those familiar sharp eyes were the ones you’ve been dreaming about for almost half your life.

What would that mean for you?

—------------------------

Flowers often wilted under your touch, and though your mother called it ‘wrong’, it somehow felt right.

That didn’t mean you felt excited about it. You were the goddess of spring. You were supposed to give life to flowers, not kill them.

You sat by the stream, digging your fingers under the soil. You laughed to yourself as you scanned the dead flowers around you, and you wondered what Lord Hades would think about this, because it seemed like the flowers were-

“Straight from the Underworld,” a voice sounded and you froze for a moment before you turned towards the dark figure of Hades announcing his arrival. You tried to look at his face- you could almost see it now…

“Interesting that they call you Persephone,” the King of the Underworld slid closer and then was down on one knee before you. “Why did you call me here?”

“I- I didn’t call you,” you managed to say, wanting to scoot away from him but you were captivated. “How?”

He smiled, glancing at your fingers still buried under the soil. Gently, he held your wrists and took them out, dusting your hands carefully. You tried taking your hands away. “I could hurt you.”

“No, you won’t,” he said nonchalantly before looking at you. “Have you ever hurt someone?”

“I think I have,” you found yourself saying.

“And why would a sweet thing like you hurt someone?” He took one of the wilted flowers and tucked it behind your ear. “They probably deserved it, didn’t they?”

You were about to say something but he got up. “Go back before Demeter comes to find you. I’m not sure she’ll like this.”

“But…” you sighed, an indescribable ache in your heart. “I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless.”

“You’re not alone,” he simply said. “And if you ever feel lost, you can call for me.”

—-------------------

This wasn’t the first time you had that dream, however, this was the first time the voice sounded so familiar.

As you got ready, pairing accessories with your pastel blue outfit, you wondered if you were closer to discovering the identity of the person you were dreaming about for so long.

Yes, it was probably a fictional story your mind had created for the sole purpose of your entertainment, where you were playing Persephone and your mother was playing Demeter. When you first started having these dreams a few years ago, though not as frequently as nowadays, you let the story play in your head until one day something occurred to you which prompted you to google the story of Persephone and Hades-

And left you gaping in surprise because it really did seem like you were legitimately seeing it from Persephone’s eyes.

You never mentioned it to anyone. You weren’t so sure you needed to- after all, there were various interpretations of the stories of the Greek gods. However, the character of Hades intrigued you a lot, and it was a shame you could never remember just who he was. Also, it didn’t help that your mother had been calling you Kore forever- she had been obsessed with Greek mythologies when you were little and read those to you as your bedtime stories.

Perhaps these dreams were a result of hearing those dreams as a child, a trauma-

“If you’re done staring at yourself, the breakfast’s getting cold,” Siyeon popped her head in your room, snickering. “It’s only Wooyoung. Who are you getting pretty for?”

You glared at her. “Rich coming from you when we all know how big a crush you harbour-”

“Shut up and be at the table in a minute if you want me to drop you off.”

“Alright, madame,” you made a face and sighed, your mind wandering off to the familiar voice of Hades-

Your phone vibrated and you read the text from Prosecutor Park Seonghwa asking you if you were available to meet at the police station in an hour. You texted that you were and told Wooyoung that you were going to be a bit late before joining Siyeon at the table.

“Wooyoung told me you might have found a place for your cafe?” Siyeon asked and you nodded.

“We’re reviewing our options today and I hope we can finalise something,” you took a sip of coffee, sighing as you slumped back. “It’s about time we actually started running the business instead of just dreaming about it.”

“Right,” Siyeon nodded. “Your mother called me last night. Apparently you weren’t picking up?”

“Oh, I forgot to call her back,” you groaned. “What did she say?”

“Just the usual,” she grinned. “Tell y/n to stay safe, pick up her calls, stop roaming around so late at night- I don’t know how she’s gonna digest the idea of you and Wooyoung working together with actual people around you until midnight.”

“Yeah, I told her to be mentally prepared. I don’t know when she’ll understand I’m not a kid…” you sighed deeply. “Though after last night, I can kind of understand why she’s like this…”

“What happened last night?” Siyeon frowned.

You told her your story on the way to the police station where she was to drop you off. She was surprised but also momentarily got possessed by your mother as she scolded you for roaming around strange places all alone so late at night. When you arrived, the prosecutor was already waiting for you and Siyeon did a double take.

“That’s the Prosecutor that got you in trouble?”

You raised a brow. “You know him?”

Siyeon scoffed, getting out of the car and haughtily walking towards the prosecutor who looked at her and then at you, and then groaned.

“I can’t believe you almost killed my friend, Park Seonghwa.”

You gaped between the two, and he sighed deeply. “That’s an exaggeration, but good to see you too.”

“This is the Prosecutor who made my life at work hell a year ago,” she pointed and you nodded in realisation, stifling your smile- you had only heard bad things about him.

“But we became friends over a few drinks, didn’t we, Siyeon? Or are you going to forget how I helped you out and saved your sorry ass?”

“I’m sure he was just doing his job,” you patted Siyeon’s arm. “You should go now- stop giving him that look.”

Siyeon glared at Seonghwa before saying bye and you gave the man a sorry look. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, Prosecutor Park.”

“Just call me Seonghwa. I’m sorry I had to call you. I would have dealt with it, but…” he sighed. “The police here don’t really like me.”

You looked at him in confusion and he led you inside. The officer in charge of the case made you both wait 10 minutes just because he was going through his phone (judging by the smile on his face, you were pretty sure he was talking to his partner), and though you both had stayed silent while you waited, you decided to break the ice.

“Looks like you have some beef with him,” you commented.

“I don’t have beef with him,” Seonghwa laughed, caught off-guard by your comment and it made you stifle a grin. “We’ve just not had the chance to meet on good terms.”

“Same difference,” you muttered.

Before he could retort, the officer finally looked up from his phone and gave you two a tired look, fixing his gaze on Seonghwa. “Prosecutor Park… ever so busy, eh? Still going after the elites just because they seem to be having fun? Still called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper?”

You blinked at the nickname and then it dawned on you why his voice sounded so familiar-

It was the same voice you had been hearing in your dreams.

“Officer Lee… I see you haven’t changed. I thought you got promoted after you rattled on about me to the superiors, but… too bad.”

The officer gruntled at that and you pursed your lips, looking back and forth between the two. Before they could make another jab, you cleared your throat and raised your hand awkwardly. “I’m here.”

Officer Lee passed you a page. “Fill this up and then answer my questions.”

You filled the page with your private information and then the officer asked you to narrate the events. By the end of it, he was tsk-ing at Seonghwa. “Now you’re troubling innocent civilians too. Do you have to go so far? Don’t you remember the last time you got a civilian involved-”

“You don’t have to worry about her inconvenience,” Seonghwa countered. “She’s a… friend.”

You raised a brow at that but decided to play along- it looked like the officer really wanted to get to him and you wondered just what had happened between the two.

“Well, you’re free to go then,” he said after he asked you to narrate the event and you got up, bowing and waiting for Seonghwa who was still glaring at the man and then he exhaled deeply, getting up and going ahead without waiting for you. You followed him outside, watching him stop and run a hand through his hair, almost in frustration.

“You okay?” You asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he nodded after a moment, scanning you- you suddenly felt like a child out of place in your pastel outfit. “Do you need me to drop you off?”

“No, it’s okay, I’m meeting a friend at the intersection,” you told him. “I’ll walk.”

“I’m passing by, so get in,” he motioned to the car and went ahead before you could refuse his offer, making you shrug and follow.

“Sorry for today,” Seonghwa said after a minute as he drove. “I won’t bother you again.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” you told him.

“I’m sorry for that day too,” he continued. “I could have gotten you killed, like Siyeon said.”

“It’s okay, it was just a big coincidence,” you shrugged and he glanced at you. “I’m just glad we’re both unhurt.”

Seonghwa raised a brow at your candidness. “Have you always lived in Sector 1?”

“I lived near the Sector 2 border- the town with the hills,” you told him. “I commuted for college and moved here not too long ago.”

“Is that where you met Siyeon too?”

“No, we’re school friends,” you smiled. “She also lived there back then.”

“Ah, I see.” A ghost of a smile lingered at Seonghwa’s face and you watched him, intrigued. “I don’t think Siyeon ever mentioned you but… we weren’t best friends either.”

“Siyeon never mentioned you either, I think- not directly. She did mention some jerk making it hard at work, but,” you laughed and he joined. “That’s about it.”

You spotted the intersection and told him to drop you off there. He offered to wait with you until your friend arrived, but you insisted that it was fine. Seonghwa did look at you a moment too long before he sighed. “I guess this is goodbye then. We probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

You scanned him, his sharp eyes just as familiar as his voice. You wondered if the ache in your heart meant anything. “Let’s hope if we do meet each other again, it’s when we’re not running for our lives or going to a police station.”

Seonghwa smiled at that and you watched his face transform into pure warmth, his eyes sparkling. “Sounds good.”

You watched him leave, wondering just what his deal was. He seemed to be dealing with a lot and you made a mental note to ask Siyeon just what exactly the officer meant by him being the Underworld’s Grim Reaper. At the sound of a horn, you turned to Wooyoung sticking out his neck and waving at you and you immediately got in the front seat.

“Did I keep you for long?” He patted your arm as a greeting before he drove off.

“Not at all,” you told him. “I hope you’re in full spirits because we’ve had enough of scouring potential buildings for our cafe. We need to decide today, Wooyoung. Don’t be a sloth.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded his head furiously, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I have a feeling that today is a lucky day.”

Today was indeed lucky. By the late evening, you went through your top 5 picks and decided on a spot to open your cafe- it wasn’t in the hotspot of the city but quite near it, and you were very satisfied by its architectural design which allowed you to make the most of the ‘floral’ part of the cafe. Wooyoung had no problem with it either, so you signed the deal and shook hands with him.

“I can’t believe we managed to do this today- I thought we were bluffing!”

“When I put my mind to something, I do it, y/n,” he simply stated. “Now let’s go for dinner- I’ll call the boys and you can call Siyeon- I hope some of them can make it. I need to introduce you to my other friends too.”

“Yeah, you know how hard it was for me to come back here when college was over,” you sighed. “And your ‘other friends’ are always too busy.”

“We should plan a proper party, though, what do you say?” Wooyoung asked. “We’ll treat them and then force them to help us.”

“That… sounds pretty good actually,” you grinned at him and he grinned back, bumping his fist with you as you both plotted the demise of your friends and how to exploit their services.

With that, you and Wooyoung arranged a welcome party at a restaurant near your cafe on the weekend so you could have dinner first and visit the venue later. You invited Siyeon, which you started regretting when she decided she was in charge of dressing you up for the night, and you ended up in all black, with your hair and makeup more edgier than usual- she insisted you needed to look like you had your shit together and could tolerate doing business with Wooyoung which was no small feat. She still couldn’t believe how Wooyoung, who was the loudest and most blunt and outgoing person she knew, could be friends with you who was timid and always fidgeting with her words.

“But you can shut Wooyoung up, so I guess that counts for something.”

“I can shut you up too,” you countered. Siyeon snickered at that but didn’t deny it- you may have grown up sheltered and were just learning about real life and its responsibilities now, but Siyeon knew there was an undeniable fire within you.

“But I don’t blab as much as him,” Siyeon pouted.

“Gosh, just tell Wooyoung that you like him, you’re so corny,” you threw your makeup sponge at her as she turned to hide her face after making that comment.

“I don’t like him,” she looked baffled. “He’s too much.”

However, as you entered the restaurant, you watched how Siyeon’s eyes darted immediately to Wooyoung and you rolled your eyes, greeting the rest of his friends- Yunho, Mingi and someone you hadn’t seen before. Yunho and Mingi you knew from college and met with them often.

“This is the famous Kim Hongjoong who is very hard to reach,” Wooyoung pointed and Hongjoong laughed in embarrassment. “You two better get along. We’re still missing one, but he’ll be here soon- he said we could start dinner without him.”

“Oh, we could wait?” You asked but Wooyoung told you it was okay, and you sat across Hongjoong, learning that he was a famous composer and Wooyoung told you that he was producing a soundtrack for your cafe as a gift too, which you really appreciated.

“Once I see what the vibe is, I’ll come up with something,” Hongjoong promised.

“No way, aren’t you asking too much from him, Wooyoung?” You looked around in disbelief and everyone laughed.

“It’s the least I can do-”

“It’s the least he can do,” Wooyoung announced and you laughed harder, Hongjoong promising to mess up the track if Wooyoung annoyed him too much and you enjoyed the bickering as you finished dinner and you all decided to walk to the cafe. You fell behind the group, watching them laugh over something and you smiled to yourself, glad you had such good people in your life-

You turned to your right and spotted none other than Seonghwa, dressed in a suit, probably coming straight from work, holding a big wrapped box. You met eyes with him and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you with the rest of his friends.

While you both stood gaping at each other, you suddenly had a flashback of the recent dream you had-

“I wish you weren’t so afraid, Persephone,” Hades crawled behind you, letting his fingers run down your sleeves and catch your trembling fingers- somehow, his touch comforted you more than anything else in this world.

“I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” your voice wasn’t even and you looked down, watching his fingers interlock with yours as he rested his face next to your head. “I’m supposed to be the goddess of spring but all I seem to do these days is destroy.”

“And who said you were only the goddess of spring?” Hades' voice held a hint of playfulness. “You can be more than one thing.”

“Could I?” You smiled, embarrassed, moving away from him. Perhaps, he was trying to make you feel better. “I’m not even good at one thing.”

“You think we’re good at what we do?” Hades went to sit by the tree in front of you. “I can barely handle the Underworld these days.”

You sat near him, gazing at him out of curiosity. “What is the Underworld like?”

“Would you like to see?” Hades leaned in and for a moment, just for the shortest moment, your heart was gripped by the fear of your mother finding out who you’ve been hanging out with lately.

“I don’t think I should leave the mortal realm,” you pouted. “Mother would instantly know I’m gone.”

“You don’t have to leave to see it,” Hades was smirking. “I can show you- close your eyes.”

You did and you felt his fingers on your forehead- and then you were suddenly shivering with cold, couldn’t see anything except darkness- until you realised you could actually see and it was just incredibly dark.

“This is the Underworld,” Hades said. “Where I live. A city down there. We have rivers too, but I’m not sure you’d like them.”

“How can I see this?”

“This is just my memory,” Hades said, drawing his fingers away and you opened your eyes, blinking a couple of times.

“It’s so cold there,” you tilted your head, grabbing his hand without a second thought. “You’re always cold.”

Hades frowned- could you actually feel the place from his memory alone? “I’ve clearly underestimated your powers, it seems.”

“I know just what that place needs,” you smiled, ignoring his remark- you tended to ignore anyone who talked about your powers. You watched Hades’ brow rise in confusion.

“It needs a touch of spring.”

Wooyoung all but attacked Seonghwa with a hug that had him grimacing, going on about how he made it just on time but it was a pity that he had to miss dinner. When Wooyoung was about to introduce you two, you looked at Siyeon who muttered, “What a big fucking coincidence.”

You giggled at that, and Wooyoung looked between you and Siyeon. “Why does it look like you already know him?”

“That’s because she does, you idiot,” Siyeon slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “You should have told me he was coming. You know I have beef with him.”

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t,” Wooyoung looked proud and Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “I’m aware Siyeon and Seonghwa know each other from work, but how do you know him?”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” you shrugged, looking at Seonghwa for help.

“She was a witness in a case I’m working,” was Seonghwa’s short explanation and you nodded eagerly, hoping he wouldn’t ask more. Wooyoung didn’t, just dragged Seonghwa to the front and he greeted the rest.

“They’re old friends, huh?” You let out a short laugh, looking at Siyeon who looked both annoyed and curious. “Sure is a small world we live in.”

You reached the cafe and Wooyoung called you to the front, putting an arm around you. “This is us.”

“You sound like a married couple who just bought a house,” Mingi laughed.

“Might as well be,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Come in, let’s show you around.”

Wooyoung did most of the talking while you added in the details, showing them the main sitting area and a few private corners for people who would want to work in peace while having a break. The kitchen was huge and well-equipped as well, and upstairs, there was a terrace that you would be utilising for the customers as well, with two separate rooms that would be your offices.

“We really won in the luck department with this one,” you finished showing them around, taking a seat with the rest on the terrace where Wooyoung opened the bottle of wine Seonghwa had brought as a gift. “I never thought I’d have a room here as well. I could practically live here.”

“That wouldn’t be very safe,” Seonghwa said.

“I know, but on the days when I’m too tired to go home, I could take a little nap here,” you shrugged.

“Now that we’re all present and I’m pouring you all wine to commence the beginning,” Wooyoung finally began the speech you were expecting and you stifled your laugh. “I better see each one of your ass working with us.”

Hongjoong stopped in the middle of drinking. “Working how exactly?”

“Help us move!” Wooyoung slumped down. “Help us bring this place to life! With only the two of us, it’s going to take forever, especially with y/n’s clumsy ass-”

“I’m not the one who fell on her face because I was too busy looking upwards when I walked,” you muttered, referring to moments ago when Wooyoung tripped on empty boxes while he was walking, making everyone laugh out loud.

“Not the point!” Wooyoung glared at you and you glared back. “Anyways, all of you better be present here.”

“You’re only going to order us around and do absolutely nothing!” Mingi pointed his finger at him. “I still remember when I thought it was a good idea to move in with you.”

“I could help, but I expect something in return,” Yunho said and Siyeon clapped at that.

“My point exactly.”

“You owe me one in case you forgot, Yunho,” Wooyoung pointed his finger at him and Yunho grinned. “As for Siyeon… she could get a special discount.”

That fueled an argument on why he didn’t offer the ‘special’ discount to anyone else and Siyeon announced she didn’t need anything from Wooyoung, which made you elbow her.

“We’re all busy and have a life, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa finally said and the boys clapped enthusiastically at that. “But… I’ll come around if I have some free time. And the rest of you should as well- otherwise don’t expect them to treat you any differently from the rest of their customers.”

You both were satisfied to hear that while the rest groaned, making promises to come and help, teasing each other. You opened a bag of chips and offered some to Seonghwa who was sitting near you.

“Funny seeing you here tonight,” he said as he took a few. “I didn’t recognise you for a moment. You look different.”

“That’s all Siyeon,” you touched your hair consciously, tucking behind your ears. “I thought you were just passing by. Seems like we have quite a few people in common.”

“Seems so,” he smiled. “Wooyoung always talks about you, I just never made the connection.”

“Really?” you laughed, looking at him who was still accusing his friends of being lazy. “He does talk a lot in general. He may have mentioned having a busy old friend- two of them. I met Hongjoong for the first time today.”

“He’s my oldest friend,” Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and you watched his gaze turn soft. “He’s also the busiest, so don’t expect to see him helping around more than once. He uses any free time for a nap.”

“I see,” you turned towards Seonghwa, resting your face on your hand, elbow propped on your leg. “And will I be seeing you more than once?”

Seonghwa’s breath caught at the way you looked, with hair shining brightly under the moonlight, eyes tired but full of life. He mirrored your position, a faint smirk on his face. “Maybe you will.”

That night, Seonghwa woke up feeling like a bucket of cold water had been splashed over him though sweat laced his forehead. He checked the time- it was 03.47 am. He went to the kitchen to drink some water and recalled the dream he had seen-

It was you. He had dreamt about you, but… it wasn’t exactly the person he knew. And he had called you Persephone. You had been sitting by a lake, eyes wide and helpless, and he had touched your face and said-

“If I could… I would make you the Queen of the Underworld.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply- was he thinking too much about you? He had been busy with his work, and recently, he’d seen a lot of you, which was perhaps why he was having recurring dreams about you where he called you Persephone, which made him Hades-

King of the Underworld.

Or maybe he took his nickname way too seriously. Seonghwa shook his head- the dreams were causing him to be restless in his sleep. Maybe he just needed to relax a bit but… his recent case had him spiralling into darker territories, and he wondered if he could even get to sleep anymore.

—--------------------------

The last few days were the busiest. You spent most of your time in the cafe and the boys occasionally dropped by to help you out, though you noticed having company meant you also slacked off as you got distracted elsewhere, but things were looking good so far. You and Wooyoung were done setting up your office rooms so you could focus on the rest.

Today, you were back to the last bit of scraping. You arrived late, having slept in since it was Sunday and you found Wooyoung taking a nap on the couch in his office. You didn’t wake him up, deciding to put on some light instrumental music while you scraped and got lost in your thoughts.

These days, your thoughts mostly drifted to the recurring dreams you were having- they were almost like flashbacks of a memory, of a… past life. But you didn’t believe in past lives.

Maybe you should, you wondered to yourself as you shifted to one leg, lazily scraping. But even if you did believe in past lives, did you believe in Hades and Persephone? Even if you did, why would they look exactly like you, Seonghwa and the other people in your life? Why would they be speaking your language?

Maybe they speak your language for you, you found yourself thinking. You recalled having a dream in Japanese a while ago when you barely knew two phrases. Dreams were supposed to be weird, you told yourself. But were they supposed to be playing out like a story of someone’s life?

Your train of thought was broken when you heard someone clear their throat behind you and you realised you hadn’t been scraping at all for a while now. You put on a smile in an attempt to seem normal before turning to greet-

Seonghwa. He had a way of appearing exactly when you were thinking of him.

“Hi,” he waved awkwardly, dressed in something other than black for once. The denim quite suited him.

“H-hi, I wasn’t expecting you- or anyone, for that matter,” you managed to say, recovering from the initial shock. “Uh, please have a seat?”

Seonghwa looked around in amusement at the absence of any seats. “Where’s Wooyoung?”

“He’s taking a nap,” you told him, fumbling to empty the nearest stool. “I just came and decided to let him sleep.”

“Good idea, it would be way too loud with him,” he laughed, asking you to stop. “I’m not here to relax. I’m here to help you out, so tell me what to do.”

“Really?” You smiled, suddenly conscious of the dirty apron you were wearing- it had everything from dust to paint on there. “Well… you could scrape this part and I could start on the next?”

“Sounds good,” he scanned you. “Do I get an apron too?”

“Oh, yes,” you said, laughing. “We have a spare for this purpose.”

You went to the box near you, digging out the apron and handing it to him. He wore it and got to work immediately and you watched him for a moment before resuming your own. “You didn’t actually need to help out- I’ve heard how busy you are with your recent case, and from what I’ve seen… it’s hectic.”

“Come on, even Hongjoong stopped by,” he laughed a bit, looking at you. “Or is it that you didn’t want to see me?”

“Now why would you think that,” you pouted, surprised at how playful he sounded despite the serious expression on his face. “I just thought you’d be tired- your job is demanding.”

“It wasn’t always like this,” Seonghwa glanced at you as he said, “I got myself into this mess, and now I can’t get out until I win or admit defeat.”

You put a hand on your hip as you scraped. “Admitting defeat sounds dangerous.”

“It is,” he sighed. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

You turned to him but then paused, resuming your work- it seemed to be easier to talk when you were both busy and not looking at each other. “Just what have you involved yourself in, Seonghwa? I don’t think we’ve addressed the fact that you’re in constant danger.”

Seonghwa sighed deeply and it looked like he was actually considering telling you. “I can’t really talk about it- the less you know, the safer you are.”

“Well, maybe I don’t love being so safe,” you said, surprised at how you voiced that so boldly, making even Seonghwa stop and turn to look at you. You matched his gaze.

“Sometimes I wonder who you are,” he said, and you felt like he meant more by it. “Why were you so calm that day? And why are you willing to involve yourself in something dangerous?”

You shrugged, going back to scraping, ignoring the loud thump of your heart between your ears. You could still feel his gaze on your back. Thankfully, Wooyoung interrupted and you got a call right at that moment, going into another room to talk to your mother who told you she would be paying a visit-

Right now.

You got out of the room, waving your hand wildly at Wooyoung who moved closer to hear your conversation while Seonghwa watched awkwardly.

“But mom… I’m literally scraping- it’s an ugly sight. You should just go to my apartment and I’ll arrive right after you-”

“I’m near the cafe, Kore,” she said and Wooyoung sagged down to the ground. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you hung up and kicked Wooyoung’s thigh lightly. “Get up. We’ve got to make this look presentable.”

“Your mother’s coming, what’s the big deal?” Seonghwa finally dared to ask and then regretted it when you two glared at him.

“She’s a monster, for starters-”

“She’s my mother, asshole,” you slapped Wooyoung’s arm. “And what’s your problem? She loves you!”

“She only pretends to!” Wooyoung shouted. “She threatened to hang me upside down on the ceiling if I tried anything funny with you!”

“Let’s just get to work,” you clapped, sliding all the stuff lying in the middle of the room to the corners. Just two minutes later, you heard the sound of the door opening.

“Seonghwa’s still here,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Should I say he is my friend?”

“He is your friend, Wooyoung, please wake up,” you almost cried and Seonghwa snorted. “If you’re going to say something stupid, you better just shut up- hi, mom!” You went to hug her, Wooyoung following with a smile.

“You look well,” she commented. “But there are dark circles under your eyes.”

“Those are proof that I’ve been working hard,” you smiled and she laughed at that, handing you the bouquet of fresh flowers that she brought from home- your favourites. You sniffed them deeply, sighing happily before setting them on the table.

“And this is?”

“My old friend, Park Seonghwa,” Wooyoung introduced and Seonghwa bowed. “He came to help us out.”

Your mother gave you a look before she sat down. “I won’t be here for long- I came to visit a friend and thought I’d drop by and see what’s up. Would you excuse us, boys? It’s good to see you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung saluted, dragging Seonghwa to another room- or at least, pretending to. You just knew he would be loitering right outside the room, and chances were that Seonghwa would be too. You turned your attention to your mother. “You could have told me earlier. I would have arranged for dinner or something-”

“There’s no need,” she shook her head, looking around. “The cafe looks nice. Are you sure you need to stay and work with Wooyoung? You’ll only be dealing with flowers- you could do that from home-”

“Wooyoung is only going to be cooking, I’ll be handling everything else,” you reminded her. “We cannot work without each other.”

“It’s pretty late though- when do you even go back?” She checked her watch. “Here, all alone-”

“I’m going to be alone most days,” you straightened up- somehow, you found it easier to challenge your mother when you met her after some time apart. “Besides, there’s always company.”

She frowned at that. “Do you know that boy?”

“Wooyoung introduced us not long ago. He’s one of his old friends, like Yunho and Mingi.”

“I don’t like this, Kore,” she sighed and you groaned.

“You never like anything I do,” you said. “I’m not little anymore. I’m making my own decisions. Please give me space to breathe.”

“Do I suffocate you?” She raised a brow.

“Honestly? Sometimes, yes. I love you but you do that.”

Your mother didn’t look too hurt to hear that, which didn’t give you much satisfaction either. She got up, taking her purse. “I’ll be back when you finally open the cafe.”

“Sure, you have to make it to the opening. And please arrange for the flowers- I’ll send you a list soon, okay?”

She patted your cheek and left, and you finally felt yourself relax. You heard the sound of footsteps. “Damn. That was intense.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, looking at Seonghwa who told you that you looked pale and before you could protest, he poured you water and slid the glass.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked and you nodded, glancing at Wooyoung who was peeking out of the window to make sure your mother was actually gone. “Why did she call you Kore?”

“It’s a nickname- she started calling me that when I was little. It’s something to do with Greek mythology-”

“I’ve heard,” Seonghwa nodded, accidentally brushing your hand as he took the glass from you and said, “Persephone.”

A stabbing pain in your head made you wince. “Sorry, what?”

“That’s what Demeter called her daughter, right?” he said and you nodded absently.

“Have you always known that?”

“What?”

“That Demeter called Persephone Kore?” You asked, your voice small.

“Does it matter?” He asked and you thought that was a weird answer. Before you could probe, he went to Wooyoung, leaving you wondering why he didn’t simply answer that.

—--------------------

A few days later, Seonghwa found himself standing outside your cafe in the middle of the night.

There were a number of things that brought him here. The illegal drugs case he was investigating had taken a dangerous turn since the past few months, which meant he was being assaulted and blackmailed. His place had been ransacked, evidence stolen, and he found himself growing anxious with every passing day. But then, it involved the top class of Sector 1 notoriously known as the Underworld, and if he exposed the individuals involved, he was positive the citizens of Wonderland would lose trust in their government and officials.

He had told no one yet, and he wasn’t planning to, but now he was wondering if he could go on like this. He was being backed up by Mr. Ahn, the director of a leading pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t sure he could trust him with the details- at least not fully. But he was powerful, and he had connections, which was how he had gotten so far and earned his nickname- Underworld’s Grim Reaper.

He didn’t know how long he had been staring at the terrace until you appeared and noticed him, waving at him and motioning him to come inside. He sighed deeply- there was another reason he was here.

He now knew why you seemed so familiar, why your voice shook him to the core the first time he heard you.

He had seen you in his dreams before he ever saw you.

He was positive about that- it sounded insane even to himself, but he was so sure, and it made absolutely no sense. But then he saw your mother the other day- he recognised her instantly from his dreams since she had a memorable face. And then, to top it off, she called you Kore.

There was no way, he had thought at that time, but then… he wondered if somehow, you knew as well.

But he couldn’t ask you that, he thought as he went upstairs after looking around for Wooyoung. He couldn’t ask you like this. Not when it made no sense to him. Not when he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“Is Wooyoung not here?”

“He went home a while ago,” you said, sipping from your coffee cup. “What brings you here at this hour- not for helping around, right?”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, taking a seat. “It’s a long story.”

You smiled, “I have some extra brewed coffee anyway. I think it was meant for you.”

When he had finally gotten a bit of coffee in his system, Seonghwa sighed for what had to be the tenth time. You were fidgeting with nervousness and anticipation now- it looked like he was going to tell you something big. “Come on- you look like you’re about to announce your divorce or something.”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, slumping back. “There’s a lot weighing on my mind, and I can’t really tell anyone.”

“I’m a good listener, and an even good secret keeper,” you told him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he laughed. “It’s just… it might be dangerous to share it with someone.”

“Is it about your case?” You asked and he gave you a look.

“You’re quick. Yes, it’s about my case- the same one that got me here with you right now.”

“Well, then I have a question for you,” you leaned forward, loving the challenge he was giving you. “Do you believe in coincidences?”

“I didn’t,” he thought about it, wondering if every meeting with you was just a plain big series of coincidences. “But now I’m wondering if I was wrong.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe everything happens for a reason. We encountered each other that day, perhaps, because you were meant to sit here right now-”

“Perhaps because we were meant to be-” Seonghwa glanced at you and you raised a brow. “Meant to meet,” he corrected. “That’s what you mean, right?”

“It’s up to you,” you relaxed back. “I don’t want to force you.”

Seonghwa wondered if he could tell you that he found you easy to talk to- in the past few days, he had visited a good few times. He got to learn little things about you and found himself drawn to you. “I’m only hesitating because it’s dangerous to know more than you should. Otherwise, I really like you. I really like talking to you.”

You nodded. “You know that I’ve lived a sheltered life with an overbearing mother, but Seonghwa… I’ve seen my fair share of horrors. I’m not easily rattled, not anymore.”

Seonghwa let that sink in- he always wondered where you got that edge from. He wasn’t sure he could ask. “The case I’m investigating is actually a case involving the top class of Sector 1- politicians, high ranking officials, influencers, you name it. They’re illegally trading drugs among themselves. They buy anyone with power and money.”

“Go on,” you urged.

Seonghwa shifted in his seat. “I’m being backed by Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals. He’s providing me with manpower and connections, but… I’m afraid I’ll have to investigate him at one point too. I’m not sure who’s constantly threatening me- the people I’m investigating or the one who hired me, telling me to stay in my place.”

You whistled. “A double-edged sword?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “So I’m wondering how I can keep track of my progress, where I can store evidence and important documents. My apartment’s been ransacked twice now. They also stole from me in broad daylight.”

“Hmm… No one would suspect you coming to the cafe to drink some coffee and meet your old friend, right?” You asked and Seonghwa shrugged. “You could use my office.”

“I… When I said that, I didn’t mean that you should give me a space-”

“No, think about it,” you ignored his protests. “Me and Wooyoung are already practically living here. I can give you the spare key to my office- you can come and go as you please and store whatever you need to. I won’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, I guess that could work.”

“And I know it’s too late to say this, but you should have backed out of this case when you first had the thought,” you said and he laughed in defeat. “It’s dangerous to back out now, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he confirmed. “But I don’t want to back out now either.”

You smirked at that. “Too late. Anyways, I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.”

“I know I can,” he found himself saying.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s something about your eyes.”

“It’s something about your eyes,” Hades tucked your hair behind. “I feel like I could trust you with my life.”

“But what if someone finds out because of me?” You looked down at your fingers, green with all the flower plucking Demeter had made you do as a punishment for being seen in public with Hades.

“Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine,” Hades smiled sadly. “Because I got you involved.”

“What if someone finds out because of me?” You found yourself saying, feeling intense deja vu and you tried to gulp the feelings down.

However, Seonghwa had sucked his breath sharply as he heard that too. He watched you for a few moments before he said, “Then I would know that it’s not your fault but mine. Because I’m the one who got you involved.”

You accidentally dropped the pencil you had been fiddling with, leaning down to pick it up and gathering yourself in that moment. You cleared your throat. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Yeah…” Seonghwa shook his head, breaking the trance he was in. “I should go now- I’ll come by tomorrow with some stuff. Should I drop you off too?”

“There’s no need, I’ll get a taxi-”

“At this hour? I think not,” he poked your arm, urging you to move and you pouted as you picked your stuff. You told him the location- it was 10 minutes from the cafe. The ride was mostly silent as you both sorted your thoughts out. When you reached your apartment, you unbuckled the belt, halting when Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything. We just met recently, but… I’m glad I can trust you.”

You smiled. “Well then, we can work on that until you’re able to call me a friend.”

“You are,” Seonghwa laughed. “You know what I mean. Thank you, y/n. For everything.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded. “Just… stay safe, Seonghwa. It sounds dangerous and I really don’t like that you’re being chased around. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It was a simple enough thing to say but it pulled at his heartstrings in the most unexpected way and he found himself tucking your hair behind your ear- he couldn’t help it- he had done that so many times in his dreams. However, he hadn’t expected you to basically stop breathing, and he realised his breath caught at the way you were looking at him too.

How were you so familiar yet so distant?

He patted your shoulder, nodding awkwardly. “I’ll try. Being safe, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you finally breathed. “Goodnight… Seonghwa.”

With that, you went upstairs to your apartment, glad Siyeon was sleeping because all you wanted to do was sink down in your bed and think of the way he had just tucked your hair-

Like he had done so a million times before.

Perhaps he had.

—--------------------

Seonghwa found himself coming to the cafe every other day, but he felt a bit guilty that he had to text you and ask the whereabouts of Wooyoung. He told himself that he was protecting his friend and that made him feel guilty because he might be putting you in danger, but you always assured him that it was okay.

It was an easy routine now- Wooyoung usually went home around 10 at night, which was when Seonghwa would drop by and sit in your office and do his work in silence. On the days when you were present, you would quietly come in and place some coffee and snacks on the desk. He didn’t hide anything from you but you didn’t want to intrude so you’d just leave and do something productive, finding it easier to get busy.

Tonight was one of those nights too. You had asked Wooyoung to take care of the other things while you did the painting, which was why he was out and about during the day, buying whatever you needed- you’d join him when it concerned you but since he was taking care of the kitchen, he was busier. You just needed to get the painting done so you could finally decorate and get the flower business started.

You began to think of the flowers back at home, of home, of your mother, of the house that almost felt like a prison and in several ways was, of the feelings of suffocation that still lingered-

You heard someone clear their throat and you looked up to see Seonghwa lingering in the doorway, passing you a tight-lipped smile and you looked down- you had been picking at your fingers- had he seen that? You got up and brushed your clothes.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you had an extra marker,” Seonghwa said after a moment. “I couldn’t find it where you usually keep your stationery.”

“Ah, we must have run out- there might be one in the kitchen though, let me look for it.”

“It’s okay, I’ll look for it-”

“You’ll never be able to navigate through Wooyoung’s mess there,” you laughed and he grinned, finally relaxing. “I’ll be back.”

You went to the kitchen and after a few minutes, you were able to find a marker in one of the drawers. You went to your office and knocked at the already open door and Seonghwa urged you to come in. You noticed how he had pasted a few pictures and notes on your board, making a mind-map.

“Wow, that’s a lot,” you commented. “I hope it’s not so hard… what’s going on here?”

Seonghwa chuckled, pointing at the picture of a middle-aged man. “That’s Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1. That’s where the investigation began- apparently, Mr. Ahn got suspicious when Dr. Kwon stopped his business with KQ Pharmaceuticals, and Mr. Ahn wondered if he’s not buying from the best pharmaceutical company in Wonderland, who’s sponsoring him?”

“Ah, business rivalry at first, huh?” You said and he nodded. “So he started doing some digging?”

“Yeah, and he noticed that there was one specific drug that’s used for anaesthetic purposes that he wasn’t buying from any of the well-known companies. He has his ears everywhere, and he was quick to make a connection- that drug that the top class of Wonderland smokes, they call it ‘Mist’- it’s the same they’re using as anaesthesia in the hospital.”

“Oh,” you wowed, taking a moment to let that sink in. “That’s… intense.”

Seonghwa stifled his smile. “Now he just wants me to take down as many people involved as possible.”

“Why you?” You were curious.

“I’m called the Underworld’s Grim Reaper for a reason,” he smirked. “I won a big case a year ago too- probably caught Mr. Ahn’s attention.”

“It’s suspicious, though,” you went through his notes, looking at the pictures and frowning at a familiar face. “That he isn’t putting himself in the spotlight. Also, how is he involved?”

“You know him?” Seonghwa glanced at the picture you were holding. “That’s Mr. Jang, right?”

“From the Wonderland Art Museum, yes,” you confirmed. “He’s an acquaintance of my mother- we deliver flowers to him regularly. Is he involved in…”

“It seems so, but it’s only a suspicion right now,” Seonghwa sighed. “There’s no evidence of transactions- after all, the drug must cost something. I’m wondering if it’s not in the form of cash- which is why I’ll have to look into Mr. Jang’s paintings and who the real owners of those paintings are.”

You were still going through the pictures as you listened when you found a picture of a flower. “And what has this rare flower got to do with it?”

Seonghwa looked surprised. “You recognise this flower?”

“Of course I do. I’m a florist, Seonghwa,” you rolled your eyes.

“What do you know about this flower?”

“It’s one of the rarest flowers. It’s called the Middlemist Blue- wait,” you looked at the flower and then back at him. “This is the source of the drug?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa took the picture from you. “Where have you seen it?”

In my mother’s greenhouse.

“It’s very rare,” you attempted to sound normal but you were sure Seonghwa caught on. You sighed, taking a seat. “My mother found one a few years ago and since then, she’s been taking care of it and trying to reproduce it.”

“And was she successful?” Seonghwa dared to ask.

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shook your head, looking at him- for once, you felt scared. “Do you think she might be involved?”

“I can’t say- she isn’t the only one with that flower, though. There’s someone in Sector 8 who grows them too,” he said and you found yourself sighing in relief. “But… you understand that I’ll have to investigate her, right?”

You thought for a few moments- was this a big coincidence? Your mother did deliver flowers to Mr. Jang for display in his museum. What if she provided him with the Middlemist Blue as well? What if Mr. Jang really was involved in the Underworld’s drug dealing?

Seonghwa took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and caressing it. “You don’t have to think of the worst, y/n. I don’t think a mother who loves her daughter so much would do something that could harm her. The world doesn’t know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a drug- that could mean that your mother is unaware. After all, she’s a florist, not a pharmacist, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you took a deep breath. “But… Can you do me a favour and let me find out? With you?”

“It’s too dangerous-”

“Please,” you put a hand on his. “If it involves my mother… you understand why I have to, right? I could also help you with Mr. Jang’s involvement. We could do this together.”

Seonghwa thought about it. “You’re not doing anything on your own, okay? Don’t pull a move and make everyone around you suspicious.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I also don’t want you to confront your mother until I’m sure she’s the one supplying whoever’s involved. She could simply be keeping a rare flower safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Seonghwa chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, making your smile change into surprise. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You understood what he meant. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”

There it was again- another conversation he was sure he’d had with you. He patted your cheek. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

You nodded, finding yourself unable to draw away from him, and perhaps the spirit of Persephone possessed you for a moment as you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. “Thank you for believing in me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scanned your face, wanting to kiss you back but it took everything in him to simply smile and stand up to leave. He needed to clear his head, but most of all-

He needed to figure out just why he had been dreaming about you, and why the events of his dreams were playing out in the present.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Seonghwa muttered as he pulled his cap further down and you groaned inwardly, taking it off and ruffling his hair, making him stop in his tracks. “What are you doing?”

“You’re looking too suspicious, Seonghwa,” you shook your head. “The mask and glasses are enough. You’re not a celebrity.”

“Might as well be,” he countered, pulling your hand and bringing you to the side when a bike passed by. “You should have disguised yourself too. My plan was better.”

“Mine is better, you’ll see,” you smiled at him and he thought you glowed in the sun. “Just a couple interested in art. What’s suspicious about that?”

It was a very basic plan- you wanted to go and check out the Wonderland Art Museum and see just how much your mother was involved- you were going to introduce yourself to Mr. Jang and you were bringing your ‘boyfriend’ with you. Seonghwa agreed to it because you insisted that you needed to learn just what your mother’s role was before he began investigating her, and for another reason-

Because you wanted to go out with Seonghwa, though you’ll never admit it out loud.

Interestingly, Seonghwa didn’t suggest someone else take his place or you go alone- it wasn’t uncommon to go alone. He had a few things he wanted to learn about you too, and he planned to find out today.

You both paused at the entrance, spotting yourselves in the reflecting glass- your lavender outfit was quite a contrast with his all black. The guards checked your ids, scanned you and allowed you to go inside and when Seonghwa exhaled loudly, you smacked his arm.

“Not subtle at all, Mr. Park.”

“I’m only teasing you,” he rolled his eyes as he laughed. “You think I haven’t done this? Sneaked in and gotten into trouble? More times than I can count.”

You made an impressed face and made your way to the display section, blown by the magnificent art pieces and the florals surrounding them. “Mother really put her heart and soul into this. No wonder she thought I couldn’t take over this job when I suggested that. My initial plan did fail for a reason.”

“You can go ahead and look at the flowers or whatever,” Seonghwa looked down at your still linked hands. “I’ll hang around and… observe. I need to check who the owners of these paintings are.”

“I think it’s better if we stick together- and you can lead the way. I don’t think I need to take a closer look at the flowers,” you shifted your hands so you were holding his arm now. “Better?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, gulping before he nodded. He wondered why he was so damn nervous around you. This wasn’t his first date-

Was he thinking of this as a date?

He led the way and you went from one art piece to another, observing for a few minutes. One of the guides answered whatever questions Seonghwa had. When you were at the heart of the display, Seonghwa finally asked what he wanted to. “What was your life like back at home?”

He noticed you tense for the smallest moment and he may have dismissed it had he not noticed you do that whenever someone talked about home. “Nothing much. Boring, if I have to say, but I have to credit my mother for all I am today.”

“Even the dark parts?” Seonghwa teased.

“Especially those,” you grinned at him, glad he was keeping it light. “She’s the only family I have- my father was never in the picture. She did what she had to.” He didn’t probe further, nodding slowly and guiding you to the next part, wondering just why your relationship with your mother was rocky. You asked him about his family.

“We’re a small family, but we’re close,” you could see his eyes curve and you bet he was smiling under the mask. “But when I look at you… I think you found a family here. The way you are with Siyeon and Wooyoung… it’s endearing.”

“Old friends are like family,” you smiled, agreeing. Seonghwa motioned towards the guards stationed near the far end- it had to be the office. “Should we take a closer look?”

“No, the guards might recognise me if Mr. Jang is involved,” he said, leading you to the other corner and you continued admiring the art while he looked at the office. “Can I ask why you wanted to open a cafe as a florist?”

“Well,” you thought about it. “I’ve practically lived with flowers. It’s what I’m best at and what I’m most confident about, though I started hating it a little when I felt like I hadn’t explored my options much. But when Wooyoung suggested opening up a cafe because he loved cooking for others… I think that’s when I looked at it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you think people look when they receive food or flowers? There’s not only happy occasions, but they’re both meaningful. To be a part of someone’s life or routine… I liked the idea of that. So we decided to partner up- Wooyoung gives the food and I give the flowers. It may sound stupid but-”

“No, it doesn’t,” Seonghwa insisted. “I heard somewhere, that even the darkest of places can be brightened by flowers, and even the darkest of humans can be moved.”

You narrowed your eyes at Seonghwa. You had, of course, heard that in your dream. “Where did you hear that- oh, look at that.”

Seonghwa followed your eyes to Mr. Jang going to his office room, followed by who had to be his secretary. He was about to turn away reflexively but you tightened your grip on his arm instead. “We’re going to his office.”

“We are not-”

“My mom sent a wine bottle for him, and I am simply delivering it on her behalf,” you motioned to the bag you were wearing which contained the gift and he rolled his eyes. “You can stay back if you want to-”

“No, I’ll come with you,” he said, looking like he was in pain.

You considered that. “Won’t he recognise you?”

“I think if he’s involved, it might shake him a little, seeing me with you,” Seonghwa was almost smirking. “That is, if your mother is involved too.”

“Ah… so you’re going to use me as bait? Noted,” you said and began to move forward and he laughed, grabbing your hand and stopping you but you pretended to be sour about it and made it to the office, letting him grab your hand when you knocked.

The secretary opened the door. “What business do you have?”

“I’m here from Eden Florals,” you said, “on behalf of the owner. She’s an acquaintance of Mr. Jang- she sent a gift for him.”

The secretary asked you to wait a moment and then let you in. You took out the gift first and then handed it to Mr. Jang with a bow. “I’m y/n from Eden Florals.”

“Of course,” Mr. Jang got up and shook hands with you. “I remember seeing a picture of you at your greenhouse when I went for a visit. You’re all grown up now!”

You smiled shyly. “My mother sends her regards. I’ve actually been wanting to visit your museum for quite a while ever since I moved to the city, but couldn’t get the chance.”

“And it seems like you did,” Mr. Jang glanced at Seonghwa.

“Yep,” you squeezed his hand, urging him to take his mask off. “This is my boyfriend, Seonghwa. He’s a fan of your work.”

“Nice to meet you,” Seonghwa said and you watched as Mr. Jang paused for a moment before shaking his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” he commented before sitting down. “You’re quite busy these days, I’ve heard.”

You pretended to be surprised. “Do you know each other?”

“Oh, didn’t he tell you?” Mr. Jang laughed. “He’s a very famous prosecutor around here. We’re all a little wary around him even when we’re clean as a slate.”

“That must mean he’s good at his job,” you passed a warm smile to Seonghwa and took a moment to look around. You found nothing suspicious at the first glance. “Well, I must get going now- sorry for taking so much of your time.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I hope you visit again. Send my regards to your mother too,” he said and you bowed before leaving the office, deciding to just exit the museum as well.

“So?” Seonghwa asked when you finally got out. “What do you think?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s involved- he looked more surprised to see you,” you thought. “I’m not sure about my mother though- what do you think?”

“I’m not so sure either,” Seonghwa inhaled deeply. “But I know for sure that he’s aware of what’s going on in the Underworld, at least.”

“Well then,” you paused, spotting a barbeque restaurant and feeling your stomach growl at the thought of food. “Shall we think about it over some food? My treat for dragging you along.”

“Shouldn’t we just go back?”

“Come on,” you elbowed him. “You said you wanted to live a little, right?”

Seonghwa gave you a look but urged you to lead the way and you stifled your grin as you entered the restaurant and gave your orders.

“You remembered that I said that,” he said after you both relaxed.

“Of course I did,” you shrugged, “We have that in common.”

“Is there something you want to do then?” Seonghwa rested his face on his hands, elbow propped on the table, looking casually at you. “I can’t figure you out. Sometimes you’re trying to dissolve in the background and then sometimes… you pull a bold move like you just did in Mr. Jang’s office.”

Before you could answer, the food arrived and you took that moment to think. “I could say a few things about you too, Prosecutor Park Seonghwa,” you teased and he groaned in amusement. “You seem miles away sometimes but then… you’re right here.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Are you talking about how I space out sometimes? Because I’ve been doing a lot of that ever since I met you. You make me confused.”

“Oh? How?” You asked, taking a bite of the meat.

“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a madman so I’ll let you know some other time,” he promised and you made a face at that. “It’s also probably because you’re quite weird too-”

“I could say the same for you!” You laughed. “You talk to yourself when you’re working! I thought I was hearing things and then I thought you were on a call or something, but you were just arguing with yourself.”

Seonghwa hid his face. “I have to do that when I’m lost while I’m connecting the dots. And you! You stare into the space like you can actually see something! I passed by one time and thought you were possessed!”

You both had a good laugh over that. “We’re all strange in some ways,” you acknowledged. “Speaking of, did you find anything strange about the paintings?”

“Yeah, I’ve got someone on it,” he checked his phone. “I just need to check if Mr. Jang’s really the owner of those paintings that he claims are his, or if most of the owners are involved in this drug business. What are you going to do, though?”

“I think I should visit back home- when my mom is away. Ugh, I don’t know how I’ll work that part out, but I need her to be away if I want to confirm my suspicions.”

“You might be offended to hear this, but…” Seonghwa began and you urged him to continue. “Normally, someone would have refused to believe their mother was involved in something like this. Why are you entertaining the possibility, I’m wondering.”

You took a deep breath. “We’re not on the best terms, as you must have seen when she visited the cafe,” you looked at him and he nodded. “She’s… overprotective. Overbearing. And she wasn’t the best mother- she could have done a lot of things differently about parenting,” you let out a short laugh, sighing. “And anyways, the Middlemist Blue is very rare. I can pull out of this but I shouldn’t stop you from investigating.”

“I understand,” he looked a bit apologetic and you shook your hand in dismissal, pouring him a drink and changing the topic,asking him how he became friends with everyone you knew and how he got to where he was. After you were done eating, he took the bus with you which stopped near your cafe and decided to drop you off.

“You don’t need to, I can find my way,” you teased, the few drinks you had back there making you both more comfortable with each other, especially when you both had talked so much the whole day.

“You know my car is parked there, right?” He laughed and you pouted. “It was your idea of a ‘date’.”

“You liked it though,” you elbowed him and he grinned. “When should we plan our next date? Do you want to go somewhere else before we go to my town?”

“I didn’t realise I was coming with you there,” Seonghwa casually grabbed your arm and pulled you closer.

“Of course you are coming with me,” you glanced at him. “We have a nice view there. I’d really like to show you.”

“If you insist,” he scoffed, though he was pleased. “Is there anywhere you want to go then?”

“I asked you,” you poked his arm. “Come on. Spill.”

“Well… I think I’d really like to go to the beach. It’s been forever since I went.”

“That’s great. I haven’t gone in forever. We should all go together- I could ask Siyeon and Wooyoung-”

“We could all go together, but…” Seonghwa paused, turning to you. “I’d like it more if it was just the two of us.”

“Oh, really?” You were about to tease him but then it sank in. “Oh.”

Seonghwa smiled, taking your hand and walking the rest of the way to the cafe in silence while your heart thumped wildly. When you arrived, he turned to you once again.

“Thank you for today. It was fun and productive. I never thought it could be both.”

You shook your head. “Always thinking about work first. I still haven’t forgotten how you used me as bait-”

Seonghwa shut you up with a chaste kiss to your cheek, laughing when he noticed how surprised you were. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay, just took me by surprise,” you unconsciously touched where he had kissed you.

“Do you like it then? Should I do it again now that you’re-”

“Ah, you’re drunk,” you laughed, pushing him away when he tried to do it again. “Kiss me when your head is not in the clouds.”

Seonghwa pursed his lips, his gaze changing and you realised what you had said. “I think I might be drunk too. I should go back inside…”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” Seonghwa promised and you waved goodbye, heading inside and unable to stop smiling for a good few moments.

—----------------------

“It’s not how I imagined us to be,” you said, caressing his hair, his head resting on your lap. It looked like he had stars in his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re the villain- that you’ve brought me here by force. It wasn’t my intention to make you misunderstood-”

“It doesn’t matter, Persephone,” Hades sighed in pleasure. “As long as you’re with me and happy… it doesn’t matter what the world thinks of us.”

“But Hades,” you couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. “Mother will do anything to get me back. She won’t settle for 6 months on Earth and 6 months in the Underworld deal. She might get your brothers on her side, and then-”

Hades pulled away, sitting in front of you. “Did you know what would happen if you ate those pomegranate seeds?” You nodded and he continued. “You chose to do this. Will you choose to be by my side when everyone thinks I manipulated you into doing so?”

“Of course I will. I’m doing it now,” you pointed out and Hades smiled. “You’re the first person who saw me for who I truly was, and accepted me. You made me the Queen of Underworld and offered me whatever I wanted. I want to be with you, Hades. I don’t want to go back to Earth.”

Hades tucked his finger under your chin to make you look at him as he said, “You’re also the Goddess of Spring. You brought life to the Underworld- look around,” he glanced at the once dead forest that now bloomed with flowers of all sorts, bloomed with life. “I never thought it could be warm here- warm here too,” he touched his heart. “And you’re also the first one to look past the monster everyone has made me to be.”

With that, he leaned forward and kissed you in such a gentle manner that you wondered how he still managed to stay alive all alone in the cold Underworld. You kissed him back with the promise that he would never have to feel cold again. Hades was surprised when you kissed him back, because for a moment he wondered if he had made a mistake, if he had been too hasty- but when you climbed in his lap to kiss him deeper and his arms wound around your waist, he knew that he had fallen for you ages ago.

You woke up with a groan, your muscles aching and you found that you had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. You rubbed your eyes, hearing water run- Siyeon must be showering. With a sigh, you got up and decided to make breakfast, cracking eggs and frying them, turning the coffee machine on-

And pausing in the middle of flipping eggs when the memory of the dream came back. You poked your tongue in your cheek, resuming the frying and scoffing at the memory- Hades kissing Persephone.

Seonghwa kissing you.

You cursed under your breath- it felt too real. You could feel butterflies in your stomach- or maybe it was because you already had a thing for Seonghwa. You had to admit that you did, especially with the conversation a few nights ago when he had kissed you on the cheek and you had asked him to kiss you again when he was sober.

You had met Seonghwa after that, but he had been a bit busy so he only said hi or made small talk when he stopped by at your cafe, both of you waiting for the day your mom would leave town which would be the weekend, you found out thanks to Siyeon. You both were pretending that conversation didn’t happen and things were pretty normal, if you had to say-

“Gosh, you scared me. Why are you smiling like a fool?”

You snorted, setting the table and sitting across Siyeon. “Just had a silly dream.”

“I had one too,” Siyeon laughed. “I was running away from a giant chicken. I think I should stop eating too much chicken…”

“Do you believe in coincidences, though?” You wondered out loud. “Like… do you think we can foresee things in our dreams?”

Siyeon raised a brow at the sudden change of tone. “I think I read something about that once. That sometimes we can actually foresee things. It’s pretty rare though, and most of the time it’s our mind making up scenarios.”

“But like, what if you’ve been foreseeing things for a while?” You leaned forward.

“I don’t know,” Siyeon shrugged. “Are you?”

“Not really,” you shrugged back. “Just wondering.”

You wanted to tell her that you saw Seonghwa in your dreams so many times before you met him, but… would she believe it? Even if she did, she’d think you were crazy. You couldn’t blame her for that- anyone would think you were crazy.

“You look like you have been having trouble sleeping, though,” Siyeon commented.

“Yeah, I haven’t had good sleep in a while,” you rubbed your face. “I’m going to go change.”

Before Siyeon could ask more, you were off to your room. After getting ready, she dropped you at the furniture store where Wooyoung was already waiting for you. He had picked a few options and you both went through the designs, choosing round wooden tables and comfortable cushion chairs in light pink colour for the cafe- you were pleased by how it looked in your mind so far.

“I think Hongjoong’s idea of a vintage theme really stuck to me. This is going to look perfect,” you pointed at some old frames.

“Get anything you want- I’m ready to spoil you,” Wooyoung nodded. “Just remember the budget. We spared a lot since you’re painting yourself.”

“Yeah, I just need to get some paints now,” you put your hands in your coat pocket as Wooyoung filled the receipt. “Brown and white should be okay, huh?”

“Yeah,” he was done. “Let’s look at the curtains next?”

You spent the good part of the afternoon shopping as much as you both could, getting lunch in between and making a timeline of when you needed to get things done and started. Wooyoung was busy with his cooking classes but you were mostly free so you were going to paint. He said he would ask the boys to give you a hand but you declined, saying it was something you’d prefer to do by yourself and you would be calling them anyway when you would need to decorate and set the furniture.

You got a text from Seonghwa when Wooyoung was about to drop you back at the cafe.

Hi. Can you meet me at the intersection near the cafe? I’m passing by and need to hand you some documents- I’m meeting someone and I can’t risk taking them along.

If you’re not busy, that is.

If you’re busy, I’ll just hide them in my office.

You smiled at the texts and Wooyoung glanced at you. “Already have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not that,” you groaned. “Can you drop me off at the intersection instead?”

“Meeting someone?” Wooyoung teased after agreeing. “I gotta see who it is.”

“Gosh,” you knew Wooyoung wasn’t going to back out so you gave in. “It’s only Seonghwa. He needs to give me something.”

“Seonghwa?” Wooyoung scoffed. “When did you two become so close?”

You suddenly felt guilty for not telling Wooyoung and Siyeon anything about Seonghwa yet. “We’re not that close. He’s just using my office to hide a few important documents because his house got ransacked twice- the case he’s working on. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Wooyoung made an impressed face. “He’s trusting you with that?”

“You know I’m good at hiding things,” you teased and he laughed, recalling that one time you were fourteen and bought a phone and hid it from your mother for about a year until she found out and gave you hell for it.

He dropped you off with a promise that you’d give him more details and you waved goodbye, spotting Seonghwa at the far end near a shop. You went to him and he apologised for making you come out when you were busy.

“I was just heading back to the cafe- I was out running errands with Wooyoung,” you told him, taking the USB and putting it in the inside pocket of your coat. “I’m interested to hear why you think this could be stolen.”

“It’s crucial information… and I don’t want to be careless,” he looked around, running a hand through his hair and your stomach swooped when your mind decided to flash back that one scene from your dream where you were running a hand through his hair instead- “And I think I have a tail, which is why I didn’t stop by the cafe too much. I need to find out who it is this time.”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips. “I’ll hide it well then.”

“I’m sure you will,” he smiled, checking the time. “I’ve got to go. See you later?”

“See you,” you saluted, going backwards where you came from. You took two turns down the street when you felt eyes on you and you turned around, catching a shadow hide behind a pole- since it was getting dark, you couldn’t see well, but-

If Seonghwa had a tail, it was possible they were following you now.

Which meant there was no way in hell you could go back to the cafe.

You decided to go to the convenience store instead, taking another turn. You took out your phone and used the screen and the lights to see if anyone was actually following you or you were just being anxious-

There was someone. And he was close.

You unlocked your phone and texted Seonghwa: I have a tail and he’s following me rn. You called him next.

“Wooyoung! Did you see my text? I sent you the receipt of the furniture.”

“Uh, it’s Seonghwa-”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Can you just take a look and see if it’s the right one?”

“Is anyone following you right now?”

“Yep,” you attempted to sound cheerful because you were pretty sure whoever was behind you could hear you. You decided to stay where it was crowded, though. At least he wouldn’t attempt something in the middle of a crowd, right?

“Oh goodness. Where are you?”

“Dinner? I think I’ll just have ramen at the convenience store.”

“Got it. Stay safe- don’t run. Stay around people, okay? I’m coming.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said. “Aren’t you busy?”

“Stay on call, okay?” Seonghwa said and you could hear his breath sound like he was running. He had to be on foot now- you glanced around casually, noticing the man behind you properly now- he was wearing a face mask and a cap.

Someone was starting to suspect you, it seemed. They couldn’t see you with Seonghwa.

“I don’t want to be seen with you, Wooyoung,” you almost scolded. “People will have the wrong idea.”

“Now is not the time to play games, y/n,” Seonghwa sighed. “I can see you- cross the street and when it gets busy, go to the backside of the convenience store. He’s a good distance behind you so if we run, we could lose him.”

“Got it. Bye,” you said and put your phone in your pocket, taking a deep breath and waiting for the signal to turn green, an old couple near you. You casually looked around- the man was indeed hanging around a few feet away.

You crossed the road with the couple, and after taking a sharp turn you started running when you spotted Seonghwa. He grabbed your hand and led you to an old building, exiting from the front and then going to another building, following him in the darkness and swallowing your panic until you made a stop at a parking lot.

“I think we’ve lost him,” he looked around. “You definitely had a tail-”

You sighed loudly in relief, your knees going weak and Seonghwa was quick to hold you against him, making you rest your head on his chest- you could hear his wildly thumping heart as well. Seonghwa chuckled in disbelief, patting your back. “I got you.”

“I was so scared for a moment back there,” you said as you finally looked up at him and he scanned your face, looking apologetic.

“I was more scared,” Seonghwa found himself tucking your hair behind. “I could see who's following you. I had to do something- I couldn’t simply wait and watch.”

You leaned into his touch, surprising him but then he brought you into a hug and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I never should have asked that from you- I shouldn’t have let you do this alone. I don’t even know how they figured out-”

“It’s okay- I would have done it anyway,” you only hugged him tighter. “Besides, I was smooth. I’ve got it,” you broke the hug and patted your pocket that held the USB. “You should hire me. I think I might be a natural at this.”

Seonghwa laughed at that. “I think that’s tempting,” he licked his lips as he looked at you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He drove you home and insisted that you stay there for the rest of the day, just to be on the safe side. He made a call to cancel his meeting as well. When you arrived at the apartment, you offered him to come inside for dinner.

“I’m feeling chicken and beer now,” you said, getting out of the taxi and waiting for him. “A little company would be nice.”

Seonghwa pondered for a moment before following you out. “Isn’t this where Siyeon lives as well?”

“She won’t be home until 11 tonight,” you said, leading the way inside. He took off his shoes, looking around.

“Neat,” he commented. “I thought Siyeon’s place would look more like a dungeon.”

“It did,” you laughed. “Before I moved in. She’s better now.”

Seonghwa laughed at that and you took out the USB. “Should I just hide it here? It’s better to keep important things scattered, right?”

“Maybe, yes,” he thought for a moment. “I’ll just make a few copies of it.”

You sat down with Seonghwa on the couch, putting on whatever drama was airing and watching Seonghwa make copies on his laptop, handing you the original one to hide, which you did in a random jar in the kitchen that you were sure no one else would touch. Seonghwa was impressed. “I should have hid things in the kitchen too.”

“Doesn’t work everytime,” you told him and he shut his laptop and put it aside. The chicken arrived and you found yourselves absorbed in casual discussion, from the case to how he became a prosecutor to your family.

“We’re going this weekend, by the way,” you reminded him, having finished eating about half an hour ago and just relaxing with beer now. “You’re free for the day, right?”

“I am,” he confirmed and you scanned him- head resting on his hand, arm propped on the couch, sitting very comfortably on the floor. You could imagine him as Hades. Was it really a past life you were seeing or were you possessed? There was no way you were the goddess of spring and he the king of the underworld, but…

With your present occupations, you were beginning to doubt if it really made no sense.

“You’re staring, y/n,” he commented, his voice deeper. “What are you thinking?”

You gulped unconsciously. “Sorry. Just got lost for a moment.”

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” he pouted uncharacteristically and you laughed, taking the beer can away from him.

“Don’t tell me you’re drunk again!” You teased.

“I’m pretty sober right now,” he insisted and you narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t budge. “I also remember a promise I made for when I was sober-”

“Oh, please,” you looked away, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and he smiled at that.

“Do I make you nervous, y/n?” he asked, taking your hands away when you hid your cheeks and pulling them in his lap. “I’m sorry for today. I really wish you would stop involving yourself anymore.”

“Not this again,” you squeezed his hand. “We’re fine. We’re here. That’s all that matters- you know I can’t back out now anyway.”

He looked at you. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. It could get worse now.”

“Well, I want you to pull out too. I want to keep you safe, but it seems like we can’t get everything that we want…” you shrugged and he felt warmth inside after hearing that. “Now can you stop looking at me like this?”

“Like what?” He teased and pulled you closer, taking you by surprise, your face inches away. “Like this?”

His gaze dropped to your lips and you felt butterflies, unable to look away, your own gaze dropping at his plump lips now parted. He ran his thumb over your lower lip, patting your cheek before drawing away but you took his hand and pulled him back, taking him by surprise.

“You haven’t kept your promise,” you said.

“I don’t think I’m fully sober,” he replied.

“Does it look like I care about that?”

There it was- your gaze changing, your persona changing. He absolutely loved it when you got playful like this, and he wasn’t going to miss this chance. He smiled, leaning forward and hesitating before he kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment. However, when he saw you with your eyes still shut, he couldn’t help but take it a step further, brushing his lips across yours as if asking for permission and you took the next step, pecking his lips and then drawing back as if you had been caught doing something.

“Y/n,” he groaned before he cupped your face and kissed you properly, moving his lips along yours, your hands holding his wrists tightening with every second and then he drew back for a breath. You moved closer, propping yourself in his lap and he felt deja vu, his arms going around your waist as you cupped his face and kissed him deeper.

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel this, but you felt like you were doing something absolutely right- you somehow knew where to touch him, where to hold him, how to kiss him- you already knew the planes and curves and edges of his face as you traced it while you kissed him, and you felt like you belonged there. Somehow, that thought made you feel overwhelmed and you broke the kiss, caressing his face as you looked him in his eyes.

“Don’t you feel like we’ve been here before, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa thought he was hearing things, but he nodded. “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”

You smiled at that, pecking his lips again. “Then I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

Seonghwa caressed your arms and you buried your face in his neck, wanting to feel closer, hugging him tightly. He hugged you back and held you for a long time before his phone vibrated and he came back to reality.

“I should get going before Siyeon comes. She’ll raise hell,” he laughed and you grinned.

“See you on the weekend then?” You asked. It was only two days away.

“Maybe you’ll see me before that too,” he smiled, taking his stuff and you walked him out. Before you could leave, he kissed you on your forehead.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” He said and you nodded, watching him leave, lovestruck.

—-----------------------------

You barely had the strength to move right now, but even if you did, there wasn’t any other place you would rather be, for you were home in the arms of your husband, the King of the Underworld.

Your king.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this…” he sighed. His voice sounded weary and you glanced up to meet his eyes- he looked beyond tired. “I wish I could take your pain.”

“We saw it coming, my love,” you buried your face in his neck. “One day or another, the mortals are going to forget us- we knew that. We knew we would dissipate into moths or flowers when that time came. And we are so brave to face it together- unlike the others who ended themselves.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” he insisted. “You could go to Styx. You could end this too-”

“Are you that miserable to be with me?” You teased and he laughed. You marvelled at how young his laugh sounded.

“Of course not. All I’ve ever wanted was to die in your arms.”

Your heart tugged at that- you had spent an indefinite time with Hades but when he said things like that, you felt like you were experiencing something new.

“Do you want to make a wish, then?” You asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve used the wish we got from Hestia.”

“I don’t think it’s any use now. She’s as weak as us, if not more.”

“But we could try- if we have the same wish.”

Hades tugged your chin up. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… that this is the end, but I’d like to meet you in another life.”

“I’d like that too,” he nodded.

“Shall we wish to be reincarnated as mortal lovers then?”

“Why mortal lovers? Their lives are short and meaningless.”

“But,” you sighed dreamily. “But they know that, and still love with all their might. I’d like to have that with you once again.”

Hades smiled at that- he couldn’t have thought of something better. “Well then… let’s make that wish.”

“Well…” you got off the bus that stopped at the town where your home was. “This is it.”

Seonghwa put his hands in his pockets as he looked at the cloudy sky over the hills, the air feeling cleaner than usual. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” you smiled and Seonghwa thought there was something sad about your smile. You walked side by side, following the track that led to your house. Seonghwa made small talk but he felt like there was something weighing on you- something else other than the fact that your mother could be involved in the biggest drug scandal in the history of Wonderland, so he let the silence take over until you reached the cottage house.

“Do you want to have some tea before we investigate?” You asked and he nodded, eager to see this part of your life. You unlocked the door and let him in and he looked around.

“It looks cosy but why is it so cold?” He shivered.

You smiled faintly. “It’s always been like this.”

You asked him to get comfortable and went to the kitchen, smiling at the pictures of your childhood hanging by the fireplace. When you came back, he asked you about the backstory of those pictures and you told him- first day of school, first broken tooth, first day at college and more. You showed him your room and he boasted how he would guess your room anywhere if he saw it- he was very familiar with your vibe now.

“And that’s my mom’s room, if you’re up for snooping,” you said and went inside.

“Very minimalistic,” he observed. “I don’t know what to look for, actually. You can do the snooping. I’m kind of scared of her.”

You chuckled at that, going through her drawers and the bookshelf, asking Seonghwa to check if there were hidden compartments in the room. However, you found nothing.

“She’s not that simple, my mother,” you said as you made sure everything was in place before exiting the room. “We should check her private greenhouse. She may have something there.”

“Do you have all her keys?” Seonghwa asked and you nodded. “I don’t think she’ll keep something like that where you could access it.”

“I think otherwise,” you glanced at him. “We’ve been playing cat and mouse for years now,” you told him as you unlocked her greenhouse, shivering a little as a few bad memories flashed in your mind. “I think this is where she’ll keep it, and then she’ll test me.”

Seonghwa didn’t say anything, just watched you as you went around and zoned out, staring at the far end corner. He decided to give you some space but after a few minutes, he found you still staring at the same spot.

He walked to you and gently put his arms around your waist in a back hug and felt you finally relax. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Just some bad memories here.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you smiled faintly- you had missed this. You caressed his hands as you looked ahead.

“She used to lock me up here when I misbehaved, and I wasn’t the most well-behaved kid as a child,” you let out a short laugh. “I learned to love the dark. It worked until she found out I wasn’t scared anymore.”

“Oh, y/n,” he hugged you tighter. “You don’t have to pretend to be okay anymore.”

You pursed your lips, not wanting to cry so you turned around and let him sway you in a hug until you felt better. He sighed. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew.”

“I needed to come here one day or another,” you shrugged. “And I’m glad you’re the one with me.”

Seonghwa caressed your cheek, kissing you deeply and hugging you again. “You’re really strong, you know that?”

You smiled, breaking the hug. “Thank you. I’m just pretending to be.”

Seonghwa smiled back, tucking your hair. “We all are, aren’t we?”

You nodded, spotting the familiar flower behind him. “That’s the Middlemist Blue. They’re more than I expected.”

Seonghwa turned around and found a few pots of the very rare flower. “It feels unreal to see it here. Do you think she’s only trying to keep this flower from going extinct, or…”

“I’ll look around- I really can’t say,” you bit your lip, going through the cupboards until you found a locked drawer. “What do you think she keeps here?”

“I don’t want to guess,” he admitted. “No key?”

“Let’s break it?”

“No, we don’t want to leave traces,” he said, glancing at your head. “Bobby pins?”

“Oooh,” you grinned, taking the pins out of your hair. “Don’t tell me you know how to do that.”

“I’ve learned a few tricks in my field- though one would question if I’m really doing something morally right,” he began unlocking the drawer. “I say as long as it’s serving a good purpose, you’re allowed to do something like this.”

“Wow,” you said as it unlocked and he flicked his hair proudly, making you stick out your tongue before you opened the drawer to examine the contents. You found her old pictures, a few of your father, and some receipts that you handed to Seonghwa.

“So she is providing the Middlemist Blue to Mr. Jang,” he went through the receipts. “Question is- is she keeping these because she’s involved directly in the drug dealing, or because she suspects something and is keeping proof?”

“Yeah, because she wouldn’t keep the receipts in this drawer unless they meant something important,” you nodded.

“But these date only a year ago,” Seonghwa observed. “Did Mr. Jang change his provider or did she only start suspecting foul play?”

“I guess only she could answer that,” you took pictures of all the receipts. “You’ll have to call her as a witness now, right?”

“I suppose, yes. I’ve found some other things too, but it’s better to call her privately and discuss it,” he looked sorry and you told him it was okay. You locked the drawer back and exited the greenhouse, taking a deep breath and turning to Seonghwa. “Do you want to go to my comfort place to get some food? I wanna show you the lake too before we go back.”

Seonghwa agreed- the day had been tense and he wanted to make the atmosphere between you two light again. You took him to the restaurant by the lake where you had some seafood. You walked around, now comfortably joking about stuff and making small talk until you reached the quietest spot around the lake next to the stream.

“I used to come here when I needed to be alone,” you settled down on the grass. “Never thought I’d bring someone here, much less a prosecutor who’s investigating my mother.”

“Please, can you stop joking about that already,” he laughed painfully, settling down next to you. “Tell me what you like about this place.”

“Well,” you looked up at the stars in the sky. “That. The sound of water. The dirt,” you patted the ground. “The peace this place provided. I felt disconnected here, as if I belonged to another world and was simply a visitor here.”

“Interesting,” he looked up as well. “I like the night sky too. Especially the moon. I feel at home here.”

You glanced at him- you’d heard that before, in a dream. You realised you had said the same thing as Persephone too. Seonghwa looked at you cautiously as well, swallowing the questions down but still daring to ask, “Do you dream when you sleep?”

“Don’t we all?” You frowned at how cryptic he sounded.

“I dream of another life sometimes,” Seonghwa decided to play it safe. “I dream that I’m all alone and cold in another world, until someone comes and puts life in me, around me.”

You felt your heart sink- could it be?

“I dream too,” your voice was quiet. “That I’m misunderstood and confined until someone frees me and takes me to another world where I can make my own choices. Where I can be free and not have to pretend to be someone else.”

Seonghwa and you both stared at each other, each lost as they tried to fit the pieces together. “Have you heard the story of Hades and Persephone, y/n?”

As soon as he said that, you almost lost your balance in disbelief. It couldn’t be a coincidence this time, could it?

You had one shot. You had to play it right.

“I’ve heard many versions,” you said cautiously and found his puzzled gaze confusing. “But… I believe in the one that I dream of.”

“No way,” Seonghwa breathed, turning to you. “What does the Underworld need?’”

It was impossible, but you found yourself leaning forward and caressing his cheekbone, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“‘It needs a touch of spring’.”

Seonghwa couldn’t believe his ears. He watched you laugh in disbelief as well. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dreaming about Persephone too, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa scoffed, looking up helplessly. “You’ve been dreaming about Hades?”

“I saw you before I ever met you, can you believe that?” You said and he held your hands, squeezing them. “I thought I was crazy.”

“I thought I was crazy- especially when I knew what your mother looked like before I saw her, and then I heard her call you Kore- I couldn’t believe my ears, I- this is unbelievable,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed. “If you’re Hades and I’m Persephone… what are we supposed to do, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa shut his eyes, letting himself relax fully for the first time now that he knew he wasn’t alone. He heard you sniff and opened his eyes, finding your face wet with tears. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know what to do, Seonghwa,” you let him wipe your tears away. “I missed you. I’ve yearned for you my whole life, and when I saw you that day? I thought I was insane. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself back, but oh, goodness, I feel like I’ve waited an eternity to be with you-”

Seonghwa kissed your lips, taking you by surprise but you kissed back as eagerly as he was, clinging on to each other as if that could wipe the distance of aeons away. He found himself kissing your temple, your forehead, the places he used to kiss the most as Hades, and he let you run your hands through his hair like you always did. You let him get on top of you, not caring if anyone could see- it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now, except that you had finally found him.

He broke apart, resting his head at the crook of your neck, kissing your exposed skin lazily and you thought you could dissolve right in the ground. “You need to tell me everything.”

“Well…” you laughed, still finding the whole situation unbelievable. “Shall we find a place to stay the night then? I don’t think we can go back to my house…”

“Let’s go back to Sector 1- you can stay at my place… if you want to.”

“Of course, I don’t mind,” you smiled and decided to waste no more time.

Throughout the bus ride, you shared your stories- the first dream you had, when you had it, how it changed when you met each other. When you got to his place and had a few drinks (and a few kisses), you managed to sketch a timeline.

“So Persephone- or Kore, Demeter’s daughter,” you began, “didn’t know she was a goddess. She thought she was an ordinary flower nymph, but she had something else in her- she could make the flowers… die?”

“Sort of,” Seonghwa agreed. “I think she had anger issues.”

You gave him a look and he grinned. You sighed. “So she might have caused some destruction but Demeter always hid her from the world. That’s an awful lot like my mother. Anyways, one day she was panicking by the lake when Hades found her.”

“He said she called for him,” Seonghwa recalled. “Fitting how we found each other by the lake again, huh?”

You considered that, nodding. “So he offers her his company. Why?”

“He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him,” Seonghwa rubbed his chin. “And he found her powers interesting too.”

“So Persephone calls for him again- or he comes by- did he stalk her? Anyways, they talk a lot and get to know each other. Persephone realises Hades is not the cold monster everyone has made him to be. Hades realises she’s not the good girl she pretends to be.”

“I don’t think he stalked her,” Seonghwa pouted and you laughed. “Even if he did… I didn’t.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “The events are somewhat similar to what’s happening in our lives now, right? You’re still the King slash Grim Reaper of the Underworld. I’m still a floral goddess. So the question is… why are we having these dreams? Are we a part of an experiment? Or is it simply fate playing games with us? Were we really Hades and Persephone in our past lives?”

“Do you remember that dream?” Seonghwa looked at you. “We were powerless and old. When people started forgetting us, we started fading.”

You raised a brow at how he was now referring to the entities as yourselves. “And then we made a promise to stay by each other’s side, and-”

“And made a wish. What was the wish, y/n?”

You felt as if you’d been dumped with cold water. “To be reincarnated as mortal lovers.”

Seonghwa smiled, “I don’t think we have to think too much then. We got what we wished for, it seems.”

You caressed his hand. “Do you think we only met each other because we’re Hades and Persephone?”

“I don’t care about that, but one thing I know for sure,” he looked into your eyes, eager to erase any doubts you had. “I fell for you in this life because of who you are today. I don’t care if we’re Hades and Persephone, if we’re meant to be or whatever. I know for sure that I would have liked you even if we were not.”

“Gosh, you say that but you’re still as cringy as Hades,” you laughed, making him groan. You scooted closer to him on the couch, letting your hand travel to the nape of his neck. “Well … I like you for just you too. I like Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wanted to be sure that the old feelings weren’t messing with me, but you’re right. We’re really meant to be if we like each other for who we are today.”

“But you know what I like better?” Seonghwa’s gaze was hot as he traced your lips. “I know you- not the basics, but I know in my heart what you like,” he let his hands travel down the curve of your neck, satisfied when you shivered involuntarily. “And I’ve wanted to do this for a long, long time.”

He took your lips in a kiss, swiping his tongue along them and you immediately opened up for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth, the memories of it tugging at the back of your mind. You positioned yourself on top of him, arms around his neck, his hands on your waist as he kissed you passionately and you let your hips roll once, making him groan into the kiss and break apart.

“You’re not the only one,” you said and Seonghwa sucked in his breath at how dark your gaze was. “I remember it all too well. You were the King of the Underworld, and I was your Queen. This-” you looked down at your bodies. “This was my throne. You were cold and mysterious to the world, but for me, you were vulnerable and warm,” you smiled, curling your hands in his hair and leaning in to whisper in his ear-

“And I liked your hair longer.”

Seonghwa laughed deeply at that, shaking his head and letting you pepper kisses where he liked- along his jaw, on his nose, and then on his lips, which quickly turned heated, extra layers of clothes off and bodies as close as possible. Every brush of the skin and every kiss felt heightened, now that you both remembered what you had found and what you had lost. And there was no hesitation in your actions now. You had never been more sure about anything.

He was the one for you.

—----------------------

“I can’t believe you could suspect me of something like this,” your mother glared at you and you felt heat creep up your cheeks but Seonghwa’s hand on your thigh made you feel better.

“She’s not suspecting you, ma’am. She’s just trying to keep you safe,” Seonghwa’s tone was hard and you felt a bit proud of how he was standing up for you despite panicking earlier because he was very scared of your mother- he had the memories of Demeter to blame.

Seonghwa had allowed you to call your mother to your cafe for a private discussion first, now that he had conclusive evidence- but he wasn’t telling you right now, insisting he needed to hear your mother’s statement as well. You were thankful for that and he told you it was the least he could do for you.

“I’m doing this for your sake, whether you believe it or not,” you sighed. “You just need to tell me if you really know what Mr. Jang and the others are doing with the Middlemist Blue.”

“He’s always been interested in flowers,” your mother replied, tucking her hair back in her bun. “So when he showed interest in that rare flower and offered a high price for me to reproduce it, I didn’t suspect anything. I would have done that sooner or later anyway.”

“But did you know that the Middlemist Blue can be used as a hallucinogen?”

“Not at all,” she shook her head firmly. “I didn’t, until… until a year ago when I heard something suspicious- Mr. Jang was talking to his friend, saying something about a flower that makes him see another world. I overheard him talk about how he needed to find another source for the flower too. That’s when I started to keep the receipts- he found out that I suspected him and threatened me, but I was smarter. I told him if something happened to me… my daughter would expose the details to the world.”

You frowned. “Your plan was good but I had no idea- you never told me anything.”

“I didn’t know how to, and I didn’t want to involve you in something dangerous,” she pursed her lips. “They could have hurt you.”

You bit your lips as you thought. “So that’s it? You’ve been keeping track of his receipts?”

“I was trying to find a way to get out of this mess, but then I saw you,” she looked at Seonghwa and he straightened. “Prosecutor Park Seonghwa. I wondered why he sounded familiar.”

You and Seonghwa looked at each other. Seonghwa asked, “Why?”

“You were investigating the case,” she scoffed in amusement. “And you were by my daughter’s side. I thought you approached her because you were suspecting me. Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Seonghwa said before you could. “We have mutual friends. We met each other by chance.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged. “Are you done interrogating me?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath. “I’ll provide witness protection to you- you can stop providing Mr. Jang with the flowers now. I know you weren’t directly involved, I just needed to hear it from you. I do have to ask you, though… how do you know Mr. Ahn?”

Your mother tensed at that. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”

You frowned at the sudden change of her tone and Seonghwa looked at you before saying, “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceutical frequents your place a lot, doesn’t he?”

“What has my private life got to do with this case?” She practically seethed and you raised a brow in realisation.

“Don’t tell me you’re dating him?” You scoffed. “I knew you were seeing someone, I just didn’t realise who… wait-” you looked at Seonghwa. “Mr. Ahn of KQ Pharmaceuticals?”

“Thank you for cooperating, ma’am,” Seonghwa got up and bowed. “I think you should also stop seeing Mr. Ahn for a while. I’ll be issuing an arrest warrant for him tonight.”

Your mother gasped in realisation and you stood confused, wondering just what was going on. However, she stood up and straightened after a moment. “I should have known. No one’s interested in a mere florist- not a man of his standing.”

“Don’t be too disappointed- not everyone is like that,” Seonghwa had a faint smile as he took your hand and caressed it, making you jump- you hadn’t told your mother anything about Seonghwa yet, and she was quick to notice. She only smiled knowingly.

“I’ll catch up with her later, but you-” she pointed a finger at Seonghwa, sighing. “You better do a good job at catching those assholes, and my daughter better not get hurt.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Seonghwa nodded.

“Can I have a moment with you, Kore?” She asked and you nodded, going outside with her. She sighed deeply, looking at you with fondness, which was rare, but perhaps this time, you had earned it.

“I would have scolded you but… I’m glad he’s smart,” she grinned and you laughed nervously as well. She patted your cheek. “Come visit me soon. I’ll have no company now.”

“I’m sorry about Mr. Ahn…” you hesitated but she rolled her eyes.

“I should have known better-”

“No. You couldn’t have guessed,” you assured her, patting her arm awkwardly. “It’s okay. You should come by more often too. Wooyoung’s mother misses you. You and Siyeon’s mother should all hang out or something.”

“Open this place soon then,” she said. “We’ll gather here.”

You watched her leave until Seonghwa came by your side. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but… I had to respect her privacy too.”

“You did the right thing,” you nodded. “I’m not sure how Mr. Ahn is involved.”

“I don’t know whether he really likes your mother or he used her, but… the company that’s been creating the drug is his too. He set it up to put his rivals behind bars- he purposely disturbed the peace. He pretended to be fazed by the loss when Dr. Kwon of Wonderland Hospital Sector 1 stopped using his products, and he used that to create a drug scandal, tempt the people of power with the drug and then put them behind bars. He must have felt like a god, using everyone like that in his game.”

“Wow… that’s a lot,” you whistled. “How did you find that out?”

“Mr. Jang and I struck a deal,” he smirked and you gasped in realisation. “We decided to help each other out a little. When I told him there was a possibility that Dr. Ahn was behind all of this, he was all ears. I’ll have to cut him some slack though, where I can.”

“Wicked,” you grinned. “So what’s next?”

“I’ll be prosecuting Mr. Ahn… and he better have the best lawyer in Wonderland to defend him,” Seonghwa smiled. “He can’t get out of this now.”

“It’s going to be over soon, huh?” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m glad it’s over, Seonghwa.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “It’ll take a few weeks and I’ll be busy but… when I’m free from all of this, do you want to go to the beach?”

“You have to make it to the cafe opening first,” you laughed. “It’s next Saturday, you haven’t forgotten, right?”

“Of course not,” he kissed your lips. “I’ll be there.”

He was there, as promised, when you opened the cafe officially. You and Wooyoung felt proud when all your friends and family arrived, admiring the floral exterior with flowers for sale as well, Hongjoong’s soundtrack running in the background, the vintage theme going along with the whole vibe. The first day was as busy as it could have gotten, especially when your friends brought their coworkers and colleagues and a famous blogger came as well. Wooyoung was excellent in the kitchen, working well with the team he’d hired, and you stood as a cashier for the day shift, greeting everyone and giving away flowers, making sure everything was okay.

Siyeon came at night again with the mothers, and when your mother gave you an approving wink, you felt like you had finally done something good to please her. Wooyoung noted that, joining the mothers at the table himself and Siyeon pouted because even her mother loved him. You called Siyeon to where you were standing at the counter.

“If you don’t tell him that he looks hot in the apron or whatever, then I will, because I know that’s what you’re thinking,” you poked her stomach and she glared at you. “Come on. Even I’m dating now. I didn’t realise you were such a coward.”

“He doesn’t like me like that-”

“Trust me, he does. He can’t stop glancing at you whenever you’re around. And he even took you to his apartment to make you taste his dishes! He never does that!”

“That’s only because I have superior taste buds-”

“Shut up, and I better see you both together tonight,” you announced and she muttered curses under her breath which you ignored. At that moment, Wooyoung passed by you two, casually patting Siyeon’s back and you wiggled your brows at her. Wooyoung went into the kitchen and while you two were teasing each other, he came out and told you he was almost out of ingredients, so you should close the cafe for the day- it was almost 10 anyway.

“The first day was a success, right?” You asked and he squeezed your hand.

“Huge success. We did it,” he grinned and you grinned back, going to change the sign on the door and watching Siyeon compliment something. You went outside for air.

You inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of achievement having announced the cafe closed, however… Seonghwa was very late. You wondered where he was-

“Are you not going to let me in?” He came in front of you out of nowhere and you blinked.

“You’re late!” You pouted.

“I know, just got held back at the court, but… I bought you something to make up for it.” He took out a box and you narrowed your eyes before you opened it.

“Oh goodness, you really are worse than Hades,” you laughed, making him grin. “Couple rings?”

“Aren’t people into this these days?” He took out your ring, taking your hand and looking at you for permission before sliding it in. You admired the silver band.

“Maybe. I love it, Seonghwa. I really do.”

“Come here,” he hugged you, swaying you back and forth and you got lost in it until Seonghwa paused. “We might have… an audience.”

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered and he snorted as you broke the hug and looked back at not only Siyeon and Wooyoung but also their mothers and your mother watching you both with silly grins plastered on their faces. You waved at them awkwardly.

“Let’s get inside,” he laughed. “I need some coffee.”

“I’ll be right in after a minute,” you said and he kissed your temple, nodding and going inside. You watched him bark orders to Wooyoung who put him in a chokehold, making everyone laugh. You smiled to yourself- with your loved ones enjoying together, it really couldn’t get any better.

—--------------------

Being with Seonghwa now that you both realised that this was not your first life together was a whole different experience.

You had never envisioned yourself to be with someone who cared so much about you, for starters. You never thought you could meet someone who would understand you even when you didn’t explain, or know what you wanted even when you were not vocal about it. You sometimes found yourself wondering if he was real and you weren’t dreaming, but he was very real, and he was nothing like you had imagined- in the best way possible.

You had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed living a second life. You spent a lot of days wondering what that meant. You wondered why you remembered it. You would have thought it was insane had you not correlated everything with Seonghwa- who also thought he was going crazy before he talked to you about it that day in your hometown. It was absurd, how you both found each other again, but it was starting to make sense.

Most of all, you thought about the past. You thought about your life as Persephone- you didn’t have all the memories, of course. Only bits and fragments, and sometimes you’d see a dream that would play out similarly in your present life too. You thought about your mother who still had a similar nature as Demeter, though you were now working out on your differences more. You thought about Hestia and wondered who she was- was she a part of your present life too? She had fulfilled your last wish, after all. You would like to see who she was today, if she was still alive in some sense.

You thought about yourself- the flower goddess who was also the Queen of the Underworld, who could bring the dead to life but also suck the life out of anything alive. You read more about the story on Persephone but found a lot of contradictions and decided to not search anymore, instead letting the truth unfold in your dreams.

You also thought a lot about Hades. Of the cold and mysterious King of the Dead, ruler of the Underworld, who somehow turned out to be the warmest person you knew. He was strong and powerful but he needed you. And that made you feel proud, in a sense. He believed in you and he proved to be right when he thought you could bring life to the Underworld. He loved you like no one else and devoted himself to you.

Perhaps, Seonghwa thought about those things too. He probably did- and you two had made a promise to share whatever dream you’d have of that life, though you found out after a few days that whenever you dreamed, it was together. You couldn’t believe the coincidence and thought you really were meant to be. So you promised instead to not let the events of that life interfere in your present life- after all, that was another time, another world, perhaps.

That didn’t mean Seonghwa and you didn’t use it to your advantage. You knew what his favourite flowers were, what he liked, how he approached things. He knew that about you too- when to give you space, when to hold you, when to tease you-

“You’re smiling like a fool,” Seonghwa’s lips brushed your ears as he whispered, and you leaned into his touch, digging your feet in the sand as the waves brushed them.

“Just thinking,” you muttered, caressing his arms that were slung around you and shifting in his lap.

“About?”

“Do you wonder where we would be if we didn’t meet each other that day?” You asked, squinting your eyes when the cloud passed by and a ray of sunshine hit the ground.

“Hmm… I do wonder but I get scared at the thought that you could have seriously gotten hurt that day.”

“But I didn’t,” you grinned and he kissed your cheek.

“We would have met later- it was inevitable if you think about it,” Seonghwa nodded slowly. “We also could have met way before if that fool Wooyoung would have introduced us earlier-”

You laughed. “It’s not his fault. Who would have guessed we could be a thing?”

Seonghwa smiled at that. “Yeah, we have to give him some credit. If we didn’t have a mutual friend, we might not have met after the police station when you came for the witness statement.”

“Well, we might have encountered each other again,” you thought about it. “And we would have texted each other casually or something.”

“True,” Seonghwa nodded.

“We could have met later, and you could have been dating someone else,” you sighed deeply, making him snicker. “Have you dated before though?”

“It never worked past a few weeks,” he admitted. “I always thought something was missing with the others.”

“But,” you shifted in his lap to face him. “We might have been interested in someone else if it wasn’t for our dreams and coincidences-”

“But that’s not why I was attracted to you now,” he pointed out. “I ignored the dreams- but you look like you’re interested in me because of them,” he narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps you should try dating someone else.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I thought you were hot the minute I saw you. I would have tried to find you one way or another.”

Seonghwa raised a brow. “Is that what you think?”

You nodded eagerly and he laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement. “You’re too much.”

“Come on,” you poked his chest. “Be candid about this.”

“You want me to be candid about this?” He asked, his gaze changing as he shifted his position, making you lie down on the sand and getting on top of you. He licked his lips as he traced the outline of your face. “I think I would have used any excuse to meet you again- in fact, I knew what I was doing when I got your number the day we met… at least I like to think that I did.”

You laughed at that. “You had no idea back then, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll admit I only got your number because I needed you to come to the station later,” he said. “But… I would have definitely texted you again.”

“So you liked me first, huh?” You teased.

“Well…” he kissed your jaw, letting his lips trail down. “Does it matter?” He kissed your collarbone and you squirmed a bit but he pinned your wrists down and you giggled when the waves crashed and got you wet. “I like where we are now. Do you?”

“Hmm.. kind of, except the sand is getting in my hair,” you sighed loudly and he laughed, kissing your lips.

“That’s what I like about you,” he shook his head, pecking your lips again. “You’re the most ridiculous and unexpected person in my life.”

“Wow, I’m so flattered,” you pushed him away successfully, kicking his leg before rolling away from him while he grinned. “You’re also the most annoying person in my life. I thought Wooyoung would hold that title forever, but he has some serious competition now.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You love me.”

You stifled your smile. “I do. What about it?”

He matched your gaze for a few seconds before he hid his face in his hands and you laughed, crawling to him. “What’s the matter?”

You knew what was- he was feeling overwhelmed, just like you did whenever he told you that he loved you. You hugged him tight, kissing his temple and making him look at you.

“I love you, Park Seonghwa. Look me in the eyes when I say it.”

He did and then he captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you arch back, continuing to kiss you and tease you as you lay back down and you thought you couldn’t be anywhere else right now.

He was there, with you, and it felt like you had another eternity to be with him.

#i read lore olympus and saw the vision #this had more slow burn and fluff than i intended buttt here we are #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateez x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez headcanons #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #park seonghwa angst #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa scenarios

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muffinlance · 25 days

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Read "Suki, Alone". Liked it in general. But can they please, please hire someone who knows both the show's actual events and how to follow through on a character arc? Because guys. Guys. That comic is not implying about Suki what they meant it to be implying, and all because of literally one line.

So like. From a writer's standpoint:

What they meant to do: show Suki as a community-oriented person who cares for her people, and believes in everyone succeeding together.

As opposed to (spoilers): the thief girl they set her up in contrast with, who's pretty upfront and consistent on primarily looking out for herself. She betrays Suki for one (1) corn chip to improve her own life at the prison, no surprise.

But the problem is: they give Suki an inspirational line to the effect of "we're all working together and we'll all break out together"

You know

The thing she does not do in the show

So if both the show and this comic are canon, then instead of setting up a compare/contrast with the thief girl, they've just set up a comparison. One were Suki is arguably worse, because she's been leading a significant number of prisoners on with her "we'll all fight and win our freedom together!" business, only to straight up cut them out of the escape loop and abandon them, whereas the thief is only leading Suki on in the sense that Suki keeps telling her what it's morally correct to think and confuses snide replies with agreement

My dudes. My fellow writers. You people actually being paid for this. There were so many ways to fix those awful implications against our girl's character, the simplest of which would be to not include that line. Or they could have, you know, made it canon compliant with what actually happens in the show, so that this comic doesn't set Suki up as a betrayer instead of a community builder. Like... just send all her good prison buddies off to other prisons in the wake of the warden finding out they're colluding. Have it timed to be right before the next new prisoners arrive, thus setting it immediately before the Boiling Rock episodes, so Suki didn't have anyone left in the prison she'd want to take with her on a breakout. For bonus points, include a page or two of her and her Kyoshi warriors opening up the cell of one of her prison friends post-war, thus implying she's tracking down and actually fulfilling her promises. Maybe even show her doing the same with thief girl, who was established as being imprisoned on false charges anyway, and also showing that Suki is A) the bigger person, and B) willing to acknowledge her own role in mistakes (because I cannot emphasize enough how much thief girl was not hiding her own priorities, and it was Suki who approached HER with all this, not the girl ever doing anything special to weasel her way in) (this would also open up an opportunity for paralleling Suki's earlier in-comic mistake of not listening to one of her friend's very valid thoughts and feeling, which lead to the girl leaving their island alone pre-canon; a "seeing people as they are, not what you want them to be" moment)

Anyway yeah enjoyable enough for a quick read but another one for the "this can't be canon or the characters are So Much Worse than they were in the actual show" pile

At least Aang didn't promise to murder anyone in this one

#I also have minor critiques like #Why are all the guards drawn as short and noodly-armed as Sokka pretending to be a guard #Why are the guards the only ones allowed to have funny lines #Did anyone consider using a lack of dialogue in some panels to establish mood and let the visuals speak for themselves (no they did not)#Why is Azula villain monologuing for so long at the start #She does like her villain lines but in the show they're short #And generally aimed at fresh opponents #Not last week's old news #I kept wondering why Azula was even there instead of generic lackeys especially since she had to have been dealing with the conquest of #Ba Sing Se around then. big This Could Have Been An Email vibes #Also as a gardener #HOW FAST WERE THOSE PRISON PLANTS GOING TO SEED AND WHERE CAN I GET SOME #Apparently they needed minimal (almost no?) light and tiny cracks of space and were nutritious and tasted good raw and grew so fast they #Could substantially affect the diets of multiple prisoners within a short time span?#I WANT THEM IN MY INDOOR SETUP ASAP #Screw lettuce I want Suki's Magic Beans #avatar the last airbender #atla #Suki #There continue to be no comics in Ba Sing Se but this was a better attempt than some #Suki Alone

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barbatusart · 28 days

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bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

#wyll ravengard #baldur’s gate 3

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dreamcubed · 8 months

Text

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

————————————————

Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

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masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

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