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jensthwa · 24 days

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

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

In an attempt to grasp at his youth, Seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. When it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. Maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.

PAIRING: new bike owner!seonghwa x afab mechanic!reader.

GENRE: strangers to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 20k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both seonghwa's and reader's), wooyoung being a little shit for the umpteenth time + jongho, yeosang AND hongjoong (omg), that feeling you get when your youth is ending, midlife crisis! (or so yunho says), a loooot of work related/motorcycle plot, flirting, seonghwa losing his rizz, reader is adopted so that may count as a trigger warning for some of you, shitty exes, crying a bit but not really, pet and nicknames (ghost, dear), they almost get caught in a thunderstorm, lots of tension, making out, oral ( f & m reciving ), descriptions of the female anatomy, floor AND protected sex ( wrap it up pls ), the ending leads straight up to the next story on this universe so be aware of that.

NOTES: hello everyone! after almost a month in the making, here you have it! THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone, although there's some characters and scenarios you can understand better if you read the last three parts (you can find them in my masterlist). this really didn't need to be so lenghty but it turned out that way for some reason (i'm the mayor of yap town). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: september 02 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68, @e3ellie, @alsomimi

masterlist.

Seonghwa is proud to be the type of person who can just tell what's going on after assessing a situation for a few seconds.

His intuition is something he can rely on and he almost never misses the mark when he makes predictions that he doesn't share with anyone else in case it brings anyone down.

As he watches San kissing his girlfriend's cheek and then stare at her like a lovestruck idiot, his mouth quirks up a bit and he quickly hides it behind the soda can he's been nursing for the past couple of minutes.

He's happy it finally happened.

He's also a little butthurt that he didn't get the chance to fully get to know her first.

They've been together for a few months now, maybe four if he recalls correctly. Back then, he danced with her at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment like he didn't know one of his closest friends had been in love with her since they both were in highschool.

He didn't tell anyone, but a part of him did it to see if it would prompt a reaction. And, from what he was told by Wooyoung, it did.

She is his type of person, though. And when he texted her a few days later and she sent in a non-detailed voice note briefly explaining what went down after they all left the party and she stayed behind to help her drunk best friend, he told her he understood and that he kind of already knew.

Or at least, he expected it.

He also explained to San that, although his intentions with his girlfriend (before she was his girlfriend) were mostly genuine, he’s obviously not in love with her.

After all, they only met that one time and now, back in San and Woo’s shared apartment for what feels like an overdue reunion after months of busy schedules and adult life, he can assure them both with a nod and smile that he is, indeed, happy for them.

He treasures admiration for those who are able to find love in this modern age, anyway.

Now there's two couples in the group. Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come.

That's how he got his job at Room for More. His professor gave him a recommendation letter after finishing the last presentation of his career and suggested he try his luck at his colleague’s company.

And now he's actually doing what he studied to do and he's loving it. Working in interior design and fighting minimalism while he's at it?

Incredible. Life could not be better.

Kind of.

As rare as those types of opportunities are, he truly believes it is way easier to find a niche profession people are actually comfortable with than it is to find love in modern society.

Life might give you your dream job out of nowhere, but it can also take away the opportunity of finding a partner you can celebrate your success with.

He never even told his friends when he got the job. Only Hongjoong, who then passed on the word to the rest of the group and, after they all congratulated him for it, they quickly moved on to their tesis and focused on not letting their last year of university eat them up while they were at it.

Except for Jongho, he very much had a few months left to ignore the unavoidable adulthood period he was about to suddenly enter his senior year. The rest of them, minus Hongjoong, had the right to grasp as much as they could of the freedom of only being weighed down by exams and not by other obligations like rent and bills.

Wooyoung and San’s lease is being paid by their parents, so they don't really count.

And Hongjoong lives with his bandmates in a little apartment above the rehearsal space provided by a lovely grandma who treats them all like they are her sons, so he doesn't really count either.

Seonghwa feels like, in the span of a year, he took a whole step forward while everyone else is still enjoying their youth. Now, he has presentations and meetings with clients he needs to worry about.

Love is not his top priority, not that it ever was, but now it barely crosses his mind.

He just wants to stay cool and young for a few more years before giving in completely into feeling like an adult.

So, naturally, what's the first idea that popped in his mind a few weeks ago when thinking about the inescapable passage of time?

That he should definitely be a little more irresponsible with his finances. Why not? He's in the perfect period of his life where he's allowed to make a mistake without the fear of eternal judgment by a superior being.

The superior being happens to be his mother, of course. Who else would it be? The woman could make a God shake in their shiny boots and silence them with a single scowl.

She's all the way back in his hometown, though and she's really rooting for him to make it big in the city.

Surely, she wouldn't mind if he bought a motorcycle to help him commute faster to his appointments, right?

Well, he's about to find out any day now.

Looking out of the window that looks to the street, Seonghwa can see his new acquisition parked and sparkling under the streetlamp and the smile that it brings to his lips it's big enough for Yunho to bump him with his hip and lean against the window sill as well.

“Who's making you smile like that?” he asks, looking away from Seonghwa and following his line of sight till it reaches the beautiful Bonneville he just got on a great deal with a guy who wanted to get rid of it.

The auction post said that it was because it looked too vintage and the owner wanted to upgrade to something more ‘modern looking’.

A fool, he thought.

Because to him, this bike checks all his marks: it is modern enough that in case he needed to get any parts for it, it wouldn't make him lose his mind in the process. But also, it has that vintage, nostalgic, old film feel and look to it that is just right up his alley.

He loves it.

Huh, maybe he did find true love after all.

And after breaking open his savings, Seonghwa managed to get a hold of it without financially ruining himself. Only a bit.

He didn't tell any of his friends about it, maybe that's why Yunho whistles after he checks it out.

“Now who's riding that baby?”

“Me,” Seonghwa smiles, turning to his friend who, as the response dawns on him, drops his jaw and lets out an amused chuckle “What? That's my bike!”

“Are you being serious?”

“Why would I lie to you?” He returns, softly.

A bit passes and then Yunho turns to everyone else scattered around the living room.

“Guys, Seonghwa is having an early mid-life crisis and bought a motorcycle!”

Yeosang gasps “Ain't no way…”

“Hwa? A motorcycle?” Wooyoung hollers, louder than everyone else “What's next? Tattoos?!”

Oh, for the love of God.

Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell anyone until now. Everyone gathers around the window to look at it like children at a zoo and he takes a step back, sitting on the arm on the couch, a subtle smile on his lips.

The only person that turns to him is San’s girlfriend, smiling proudly like he just won the lottery or something.

Damn, she really is his type.

“Are you happy?” She asks and it tugs at his lonely heart strings like crazy.

He pushes through, nodding and shrugging a bit, dismissing his feelings for the final time. It's not really her, he reminds himself. It's the thought of having someone in his life that treats him the way she treats San.

“Sure am,” he murmurs “My bank account? Not so much.”

She laughs and Jongho turns to him at that “Are you an old man with debts now? Noooo,” he pouts “Who am I going to ask for bail money now?”

Gyuri, Wooyoung's ex-girlfriend who somehow manages to stay friends with him, scoffs “You've never been to jail, kid.”

“But he's the first person on my emergency contact list for that!”

And just like that, they all pull away from the window and back into their seats to discuss the reasons why Jongho would end up behind bars.

Being annoying seems to be winning.

Seonghwa is glad to take the attention off of him. This way, he can't be caught staring at the way Mingi’s girlfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles her nose against her boyfriend’s neck. This way, the sigh he lets out when he catches San whispering sweet things into his girl’s ear gets lost amidst pointless banter and giggling.

He shouldn't feel envious.

But somehow he ended up wearing a green short-sleeve today, so it checks out.

“Important client. Wants to renovate their whole space, his apartment and his office.”

His boss is excited. It makes him smile as he stares at her with his hands behind his back, like he usually does when he receives instructions.

“He loved your work, I showed him the photo studio you helped with last month and requested you specifically. He said that he feels trapped in a box every time he gets to work and everytime he returns home, so… He wants you to lead the project,” she smiles, tapping her manicured nails against her desk and cocking her head to the side “Congratulations, kid, you got your first big commission coming.”

“Thank you so much,” he bows, his body bending out of pure gratefulness and instinct “I'll make sure to run everything by you accordingly, boss.”

“Well, I'm expecting a report in two days.”

“Two days?”

“Mhm. He wants to meet with you this afternoon… In four hours, exactly. I already sent you an email with the details,” she gets up from her desk, extending her hand towards him and he rushes to shake it “You're doing the initial assessment today, alone. Everyone else has something going on.”

Fuck.

“Of course,” he's worried and anxious, but he makes sure none of it shows as he gives her hand a firmer shake before letting it go “I'll do my initial research in the meantime, then.”

She nods and dismisses him with her hand.

He stresses the whole time he looks up the name and company of this new client. It seems like a serious business, not the kind that wants to reject minimalism especially when the nation's professional aesthetic runs on it.

It’s a modern tech silicon valley run by, what he's able to gather, a very rich family his new client is part of. There's a picture of them, smiling at an event, looking like the nightmare of working class people.

He tends to keep his opinions on chaebol’s at bay (Yunho is his friend and he’s rich, so he can't really voice what he thinks so freely anyway) but the fact that they contacted his company, an interior design business with barely any recognition amongst their competitors, is both surprising and concerning.

He clicks an article where his new client is featured. He's the heir of his family's empire, a tech savvy himself and he can tell, from the way they framed his answers, that he is well media-trained.

Seonghwa has no name for himself. Why would he request him? He's not so sure the ambiance he helped to create in a mere photo studio is what is granting him this opportunity.

His intuition is telling him, as he clicks for his initial research to print, that there must be an ulterior motive.

But he's going to embrace the chance of securing his rent money either way.

He just hopes his hair is presentable enough when he gets there. The helmet he bought is really not helping, the wind that somehow gets into it as he cruises through the streets doesn't help either.

Wanna know what else adds up to his problems today? The engine sounds weird.

It sounds fucking weird.

At a red light, Seonghwa lifts up his visor and tries to figure out what the hell is going on as much as he can.

He's too green for this. Too new to this world.

Would his mother scold him if she finds out he lied about doing a thorough research about the bike world before investing in one?

He looks at his watch. He has time to spare, an hour and a half before the meeting takes place.

Before he can fully make a decision, his body weight is making him turn into a street he doesn't know that well. But he's sure he saw a repair shop on the way to work today.

Or was it just a body shop? Maybe he imagined it and the sudden panic he feels rising and darkening his cheeks under the visor is convincing him he's right.

When he sees the floatable mascot waving in the wind, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Pulling up, he sees a few cars with their hood open and a few new, modern bikes to the side, so he parks a few meters from them and when he turns off the engine and gets down from his -apparently- damaged new acquisition, he feels like he can finally breathe.

No, scratch that, he takes his helmet off and then he's able to breathe.

When he scans the place, there's not a soul in sight.

Until he hears someone humming. It's a song he heard before, he can't quite put it together by the melody but it sounds like something he used to enjoy when he entertained the idea of joining Hongjoong's band all the way back in first semester of college.

Something with heavy guitars, which kind of fits the place’s vibe. Looking around, he swears to himself he's trying to find the source of the humming.

After all, he doesn't have much time to take in the place.

But he does anyway.

When he steps deeper into the shop, he feels like he's been teletransported into a decade he never got to experience, into a culture that is not his to experience in the first place.

It's like a Sons of Anarchy set, something he would see in an indie two thousands movie, maybe. There's a lot of stuff laying around, an organized chaos he guesses he can attribute to the nature of this kind of job.

But there's also a lot on the walls, aside from the usual tools hanging from it that look worn out there's posters and the Harley Davidson logo plastered at least five times in shirts, hats and jacket applique patches.

He thinks the walls can be painted a new, muted color instead of the sort-of bright blue and beige they have going on.

Focus. What the hell.

Shaking his head, he follows the sound of the voice until he reaches the back of the shop. There's what it looks like an office, maybe a reception? With a door that's wide open and seems to lead to a storage he doesn't need to get in to.

There, on her knees, he sees the source of the sound: A girl.

A beautiful, beautiful girl.

With her hair out of her face and overalls that seem too loose on her frame.

Is his heart okay? It feels like it stopped beating.

And then the beating comes back in full blast, goosebumps on his skin reminding him to speak up. Clearing his throat softly, he does.

“Hello?”

“Oh, shit,” she drops whatever she's working on, stops writing something down on a notebook that looks like it's about to run out of space “You fucking scared me!”

“I can… see that. I'm sorry.”

“Did you float all the way down here? Fucking Christ,” she mumbles something under her breath, getting up from her position and leaning into the desk in a way Seonghwa will probably remember forever. He gulps “What can I help you with, Ghost?”

She's breathtakingly beautiful and he, who's usually smooth with words and random interactions, stammers out his response “H-hey, yes I… I'm Park Seonghwa,” he starts, smiling a bit “I was hoping there was someone here who can help me with my bike?”

She looks around and he assumes she's looking for someone until he sees the corner of her lip curving up a bit “As I said, what can I help you with?”

Did he already fuck this whole thing up?

“Oh! I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't— I mean that's not what I…” her smirks widens, he suddenly remembers he's running out of time so he gets it together “I just bought a motorcycle and I'm sure the engine is not supposed to sound the way it's sounding so I thought I could use someone taking a look?” He gets out as fast as he can and the stranger claps her hands in a way that makes him take a step back.

She intimidates him. Just a little bit.

“First time owner?” She asks but he's sure she already knows.

Chuckling nervously, Seonghwa nods “What gave it away?”

“Your gear,” she simply states, getting out from behind the desk and into the garage space, moving swiftly through it like she owns the place. Damn, does she own the place? “You're barely wearing any. I get it, it's stuffy,” she turns over her shoulder to smile at him “It'll grow on you.”

“More like I'll get used to it, I feel like.”

“Yeah,” she rounds a car, tapping the hood of it and taking a pause as she scans the front of the place “That's what I said.”

That's definitely not what she said.

He's not sure if she's being rude or merely sarcastic, but he shouldn't be enjoying it the way he is. What drags him out of it is the way laughs when she sees his bike “This one?”

Concerning. Danger. Why is she laughing?!

“Y-yeah.”

“I don't get to see this type of bike often. Damn, she's beautiful.”

He smiles, taking down his worries a notch “Yeah, I got a great deal for it. The guy said he wanted something like that instead,” he points at the one right next to his “Said he wanted something that looked out of Terminator. I didn't have the heart to tell him that they used a Harley Davidson for the movies.”

“I'm guessing he meant Robocop?”

“Maybe.”

“What an idiot,” she sighs, inspecting his bike closely “Not you, Park Seonghwa, the guy who sold you this. Key.”

Key? Oh, right, the key. He tosses it to her and she catches it with expertise.

“Well, thanks for clarifying that.”

She laughs again, taking his helmet that's resting on the seat and putting it down on the floor as she straddles the bike “You're welcome,” she starts it, revs the engine a few times and then grimaces in a way that makes Seonghwa’s heart drop to his ass “Okay, Ghost, please tell me you have time to spare today.”

“I actually don't,” he takes a few steps, worried frown on his face that prompts another sigh from her “I have a very, very important appointment in…” he checks his watch “In an hour that I really, really need to get to and— Is it that bad?”

“No! No, not at all, I'm just better with cars than with bikes but, uhm… My brother is coming back in around fifteen minutes?” She offers and with the scowl on his face, she seems to backtrack “Listen, Park Seonghwa, why don't you leave your number with me and we can get this fixed by the end of the day. You can come by to pick it up or we can drop it to you early, tomorrow.”

“Would you? Oh, my God,” he lets out another nervous laugh “That would be amazing, actually.”

“Yeah, it's probably just the chain tensioner that needs an adjustment. Nothing's wrong with the engine as far as I can tell but that's why I want the guy who specializes in this type of thing to check it out.”

“Your brother.”

“Exactly,” she nods, turning it off and getting off as quickly and if Seonghwa was a little less concerned that he might've waisted his money on an expensive motorcycle, he would've noticed the proximity and the way she looks him over with a curious glint on her eye “So, Park Seonghwa, what's your number?”

She takes a step to the side and offers him her phone after unlocking it. He reacts to that.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

He doesn't notice the big smile she offers him either. He doesn't have time. He enters the digits fast and checks over them two times before saving the contact information and returning the phone.

Checking his watch once again, he curses under his breath and looks at his baby with desperation, begging, praying that he doesn't have to spend a fortune on it.

“I really have to go.”

“I can see that,” she returns his words from before, smiling and leaning to rest her weight on the hood of the car she tapped earlier “Good luck with your, uh…” she looks him over one more than and this time he notices it, blushing like a teenager for some reason because of it “Business meeting?”

The crossbody bag he's wearing probably gave him away, huh?

“Yeah, yes. Thank you so much for all your help… Ian?” He reads the nametag on her overall and immediately thinks it is an unconventional name for a girl, but doesn't add anything about it “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I get it, you're grateful, now leave.” He catches on that she's pretending like his presence bothers her so he can hurry, which he's actually grateful for.

It occurs to him that he could stare at her forever like an idiot if she didn't.

“Okay, bye. Please tell me if I have to, uh, rob a bank or something to cover the cost.”

She laughs again and it sounds pretty this time.

What the fuck.

“Sure,” she nods and he takes a few steps backwards until he's about to turn and then he hears her voice again, so he doesn't but he keeps walking “It's Y/N, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Y/N, Ian is my brother.”

His heart beats loudly and he can't help but smile as wide as he possibly can “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Goodbye, Park Seonghwa!”

He finally turns and then screams back “Goodbye, Y/N!” as he's hurrying to raise his hand and call on a taxi who just passed the entrance like divine intervention, placed perfectly just for him.

He misses the sudden blush on your cheeks because he's already in the cab by the time you reach the garage’s door to glance at the beautiful man one last time.

Seonghwa is right on time. With a few minutes to spare, actually.

The building looks even more modernized than in pictures. He can even see some workers remodeling an office he passes on the way to the… third? Main desk he has to go to.

It's a very big company and he can see the silicon valley aspect of it all once he notices the few different uniforms everyone is wearing. It seems like the building is one big, creative space and he likes it, but it does feel a little cold in a sense.

“I'm looking for Mr. Kim? I have an appointment in… five minutes with him, I was sent from—”

“Room for More. Park Seonghwa is here.” The lady at the reception doesn't spare him a glance as she talks through her headset and he has to blink a few times, bowing briefly when she points towards the elevator to his right “Floor sixteen, the only big office on the floor.”

“Thank you—”

“Next!”

Turning back, he sees there's some people lined up behind him and he quickly moves out of the way and towards the elevator that drops him, two minutes later, into the sixteenth floor.

As he walks towards the big doors at the end of the hall, he feels so out of place his armpits start sweating even though it is a cold day and the heating is barely on.

There's a few cubicles, glass separating them from the hall and, in consequence, forcing him to glance a few times out of curiosity. The uniforms and creativity that he saw downstairs is lost and all he can see is the nightmare he had once, when he thought he would end up working in a similar space: men in suits and women in pencil skirts typing away and printing reports he is never going to understand.

Maybe that's why he's a bit surprised when he gets to Mr. Kim’s office and he's waiting by the door with a kind of ironed three piece suit and a few hairs out of place, toothy grin and open arms.

“Mr. Park Seonghwa, thank you so much for taking the job!”

He moves in to give him a brief hug he doesn't really get to reciprocate before he's moving away and into his office.

“It's, um, a pleasure,” he stammers out, following him “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Kim— Wow.”

“I know, I know,” his client sighs as he takes a box and throws it to the side of his desk. The space is a mess and both of them grimace at the sound of something breaking inside the cardboard “This is why I recruited you. I tried to do something myself and ended up with… Whatever this is.”

Looking around, Seonghwa is able to see what he means. The walls are mismatched and there's an unfinished design on the one to his left. Someone started painting a tree and gave up after sketching out a few branches.

“And please call me Soohyun. Everyone here already calls me Mr. Kim and it makes me feel like my father,” he adds, sitting down on his desk chair and pointing to the one in front of it “That's my sister’s work. She tried to help me but broke one of her nails trying to get the cap off a painting tube so… She left me with this mess.”

Seonghwa smiles, sitting down in front of him and getting his sketchbook out of his bag. Seemingly excited, his client rests his arms on the desk and grins at him, expectantly.

He seems a little childish, not like the guy he studied earlier today. He looks younger than what he actually is like this, in a space that mimics what Seonghwa picks up like impatience and boredom, maybe the desire of breaking free of a corporate jail.

Now, he understands why he contacted Room for More.

“So, Soohyun… What do you want me to do for this space?”

He spends the rest of the day in the middle of the mess, getting to know Soohyun’s vision and learning about the company as he helps to pile up the boxes laying around and drawing different ideas down. When he tries to talk about a possible budget, the man silences him and tells him not to worry about it.

The pretty girl he met earlier crosses his mind one time, when Soohyun asks him if he can stay later than anticipated to give him an excuse to get out of what he says it's about to be a very boring and pointless meeting.

Her image, your image makes him smile and he wonders, for a second, what the hell are you doing with his bike.

And if he gets to see you again.

Your brother comes back like a whole two hours later, so you're grateful you didn't push your new client to waste fifteen minutes of his, apparently, very busy day.

“He said he got a great deal for it?” you nod “This one is not even that old, I'm sure they still make them!”

You shrug and your brother sighs.

“Maybe he got scammed.”

“I didn't ask but I think it started making that noise today because he seemed… alarmed,” you tell him and Christian pushes his hair back before taking the key out of your open palm “He didn't stay because he had a business appointment or something. He looked very laid-back, though, not rich at all, so don't you dare overcharge him for this.”

“Oh, so you liked him.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to open the hood of the car you're supposed to be working on instead of giving away information he should've listened to if he didn't tend to walk out mid-shift “Yeah, we're actually getting married next week.”

“Well, that means I can dispute getting the whole garage once dad goes away.”

You let out a groan but you smile a little as you try and remember where you left off last night.

“The only way he can go away is if he's dead, Christian,” you remind him “And he's going to outlive both of us.”

“Of course he is.”

You're not sure if your dad has a will at all. You're not his real children after all, so If he does you're not sure you're included either.

It's not hard to tell you're adopted, but you've known Christian since before it was decided you two would share a family and even a last name.

You grew up together, the adoption home treated both of you decently enough so you two never struggled as much but the children your age were a different story entirely. They used to tug at your hair and push you to the ground during group activities and the only one who was brave enough to make them stop was Christian.

So, when your dad showed up at the adoption home and picked him out of the hundred children, he told him he didn't want to go anywhere without you.

Sure enough, your dad took one look at your frightened little face, hiding behind Christian like a coward, and filled out the paperwork twenty minutes later.

You remember gaping at the director, waiting for him to do something about this six feet tattooed guy in his late thirties wanting to take you both away from the only home you ever knew, but you're grateful the system didn't give two craps about children back in the day.

Not that it gives a crap about them now, but at least they're a little more careful with just handing out kids like that.

Because it could've gone terribly wrong. You were sure, at eight years old, your hand grasping the seatbelt on the back seat of your new dad’s car, that it was about to go terribly wrong.

But he turned out to be nothing but a kind, hardworking (with an amazing credit score, no criminal record and steady income), widowed man who was looking to fulfill his late wife’s dreams of having a family and someone to leave their business to.

After all, she was the one who built the shop from the ground up. You desperately needed to know more of her and your dad made sure to let you know how amazing she was in every aspect.

She became someone you looked up to, even if you never really knew her, maybe that's why you ended up working at the shop as well.

And yet, you still don't think it belongs to you. Ian is the one your dad wanted to begin with, you're just an added bonus.

You're not sure you want it, either.

But there's not much you know outside of it. Your time in school was great, no one bullied you anymore and the tough skin you developed out of nowhere cushioned the typical jokes that kids and teenagers are apparently programmed to make.

You never made fun of anyone with ill intentions, so you're not sure how true that statement is.

Either way, you kind of know where they were coming from. You weren't particularly exceptional at any subject but you never got in trouble for anything either, so you just kind of floated in everyone's orbit until you graduated, never belonging to any specific group of people or participating on any extracurriculars to help you maintain your barely there friendships after graduation.

This shop is truly all you got. And the family that comes with it, of course.

Your dad coughing in the back and the sound reaching your ears even when the sound of Park Seonghwa's damaged motorcycle is right next to you, reminds you that the spending every second of your teenage years and early adult life learning all you could about how to fix a car was worth it.

“Fucking chain tensioners.”

Smiling, you turn your head to your brother and he's already working on it “So it was the chain tensioner?”

“Yeah,” he wipes the sweat off his forehead “it's always the fucking chain tensioner with these things.”

You don't tell him you already knew that.

“So you could get it fixed today?”

“Yeah, yeah. He said he's coming back tonight?”

“Oh, I kind of suggested dropping it off tomorrow so I'm not sure…”

“Y/N!” he scolds immediately and all you can give him in return is an innocent smile “I'm not dropping off shit tomorrow.”

Turning back to the car, your smile grows into a cheeky one.

“I never said you would do it.”

He scoffs “If this is your way of flirting with people, I can see why you never got far with anyone befo— What the fuck?”

Jaw slack, holding the greasy towel you sent flying into his direction a second ago, he throws it back and it lands by your feet.

“Did I lie?”

“Stop being an ass or the next thing I'm throwing your way are my bedazzled pliers.”

Your dad’s voice behind you puts a stop into the petty and pointless bickering “Well, don't, I worked hard on those,” you smile at him and Ian all but sulks before returning to the task at hand “I expect you both to be done on whatever you're working tomorrow, by eight. We have dinner with the Lee’s.”

Ah, dinner with your dad’s closest friends. Usual Tuesday shenanigans, of course, but it doesn't stop the nervous bubbling inside of you.

You pray Deokhee can't make it (he rarely shows up) but you mutter out an okay in response even if you don't feel like going anyway.

Nodding, he quickly looks over on what you're both doing before disappearing into the back of the shop again. You look down at your toolbox and find the bedazzled pliers your dad gave you as a part of your fourteen birthday gift with a tiny, grateful smile.

The eternal loop of working in the same usual five, fixable problems on the cars that people drop off at the shop sets in afterwards. And, for the rest of the afternoon, you keep stealing glances at the Bonneville and wondering what type of man its owner is.

You've always been drawn to pretty faces, even if it costed you your sanity only a few years back. Not that Christian or your dad or anyone else knew about it.

The little secrets you keep give you some sense of identity, it sets you apart from the oil changes and calluses on your hands and they remind you of the brief aspirations you once had outside of all of this.

When you dreamed of belonging to someone else and not just this family business, someone who you thought used to get you before he shattered your heart into a million pieces.

Deokhee thought cheating would not affect you.

Why? Oh, maybe because your edges were worn and rough and you've been through worse stuff before.

What's worse that getting abandoned and picked out as an afterthought later in life?

Being abandoned and treated like an afterthought by the guy you wasted your teen years obsessing over, probably.

Nothing breaks like a heart or whatever the song says.

And, to his advantage, he knew you'd keep calm and collected and accepting of his ways because he never promised you the life you imagined for the both of you, even after giving yourself to him multiple times.

Even after he told you how amazing you were.

Even after he whispered how lucky he was to have you, hushed and hurried at the backdoor of his house that last time before he broke it off.

Before he told you he found someone else.

So you know wondering is a bad idea. You should not wonder about a client, at that. How unprofessional of you, how immature.

But there was a spark this afternoon you never felt with anyone else. He was brave enough to joke around, even when you did try your best to intimidate him and lost tragically at one glimpse of his pretty smile.

What's so wrong in indulging in a fantasy no one will ever know about? Heavens know you need one to keep you from smashing the wrench on the windshield of this old, ungrateful, misbehaving Chevrolet that's proving to be more difficult than any other car you've ever worked on before.

It's only at ten after seven that you're allowed to think about Park Seonghwa without the guilt brought on by delusion.

“There, fixed,” your brother says and, after starting the bike again, the noise is gone “Call your future husband and tell him to pick it up, I want to meet him.”

Huffing, you reach for your phone and look at the recently added contact before shaking your head.

Indulging in a fantasy it's fine, as long as you keep it to yourself.

You get a chance to prove yourself wrong if you allow yourself to see him again.

“Not a chance in hell.”

Couple of minutes pass and you fidget the whole time. You're hoping for a yes, so it can all die down tonight. Seonghwa’s lack of transportation and your fantasy included.

He doesn't respond the way you need him to.

You hate that it makes you smile a bit.

You glance at your brother and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Would it be nice to not go wherever he is and have time to actually get ready for dinner tomorrow? Yes.

Do you want Christian to meet Seonghwa? No. That meeting would solidify everything else as a reality, it would pull you out of your little fantasy and you don't want that.

You want to keep it (Seonghwa) to yourself for a while longer.

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

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

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

Probably.

But you do anyway.

When Seonghwa is finally walked downstairs by his new client, he's promised a meal by Hongjoong, only if he buys some beer on the way to his apartment.

His roommates are apparently out and he didn't feel like going, although he didn't explain why. And when he gets there, Yeosang is also splayed out on the couch and with his laptop on his belly.

“Hwa’s here!”

“Oh, man, finally,” Hongjoong walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his neck “The takeout is getting cold. Come on!”

He seems… Off.

Seonghwa eyes Yeosang for an answer but the youngest just shrugs and sits straight on the couch as he closes his laptop.

“Is everything alrig—”

“I'll explain it to you when the time is right. Something's up with the band but it's nothing we can't fix.”

“Okay…” Seonghwa sits down on the tiny table that somehow fits the three of them, the beers and the takeout with a tiny smile, knowing not to intervene until he's told to.

Eating with his friends is like second nature to him. Everytime it happens, it's like a family dinner and everyone knows what to do and what to serve to everyone so, soon enough, they all have their chopsticks helping them get food into their mouths while they talk about their day.

Seonghwa is nodding along, not sharing a lot because, well, work is work and he just tells them how excited he is for the new project and what he's planning on doing, he even shows them the mockups and drawings he spent the whole afternoon making, gaining supportive praise for it a second later.

Yeosang looks up from his meal to him “So it's like a lot of little companies inside one company?”

“Sort of,” Seonghwa smiles “I don't really get it, either, but that's okay. It doesn't seem like I have to get the concept of the company to plan this whole thing out, only what my client wants and that's… Very different from the company image.”

He plans on saying something else but all train of thought gets interrupted when his phone dings right besides him.

And he almost spills his beer on his pretty mockups trying to get to it fast enough.

Only to end up disappointed, because it's not you but a discount notification from the food app he normally uses when he has the money to order in.

It had to show up in his face, because what he hears next has the color draining from it “Oh?”

Oh, God.

It's like Wooyoung's spirit possessing Hongjoong, he sees it happen in real time and the wicked smile his friend sends in his direction is enough to know where it's all going.

Yeosang sighs and eyes him with a tiny smile that says I'm on your side, but not really.

“Hwa… The motorcycle, the looking at your phone waiting for something or someone… Are you seeing anyone?”

“He obviously is!”

“Yeosang! Stop feeding his delusions!”

“So?” Hongjoong places his beer down, cocking his head to the side inquisitively and eyeing him up and down, like he can figure something out that way “Are you?”

“No! I just… I met this girl today and—”

“At the company?”

“No! No, uh… My bike broke down and—”

“Already?!”

“Let him talk, hyung!”

Letting out a sigh, Hongjoong sets hips lips into an straight line that makes Seonghwa huff out a chuckle of disbelief “Thanks, Yeo. Anyway, my bike had a weird sound this morning and I took it to a shop, so the girl who's… In charge?” he frowns a little, because he's still not sure “Of the shop sent me a text a while ago saying that it's fixed, I was just checking if she sent anything else.”

“And you like her.”

It's more than that, really. He can't even explain it, the smile tugging at his lips a dead giveaway of the whirlwind going inside his head at the thought of you.

“Ye— No! No, I don't even know her.”

He shouldn't feel so flustered, really, but the things he felt while looking at you earlier were weird and confusing and he needs to think straight before he lets it consume him.

It felt a little too freeing for his liking.

Free from what? He's not really able to pinpoint it. But it looks like he's going to have to.

The way his friends are staring at him like they know something he doesn't it's annoying, but telling.

“Okay, maybe I do like her a little.”

Yeosang hums “Like her, like her or just… You know.”

“I'm not sure…”

“Well, figure it out!” Hongjoong is excited, almost jumping in his chair at the prospect of Seonghwa getting with someone “You have her number, ask her to… Meet you somewhere or whatever people do when they like someone.”

“Ask her on a date, hyung. That's what this idiot is trying to say.”

“Hey!”

Seonghwa closes his eyes because he can't believe his friends are entertaining the idea, feeding the growing feeling inside his chest “I just met her today, though.”

“And?” Hongjoong bites a piece of meat and shrugs, dismissively “Timing is never off when you like someone. Do something about it because I swear if I have to hear anyone else complaining about not getting with the girl they like because of timing I'll—”

“Wait, who complained?”

The table falls quiet as Seonghwa looks between his friends to find an answer but Yeosang just shakes his head and he gets it.

Not the time to talk about it.

Hongjoong points at him with his chopsticks, threatenly “Do. Something. About. It. Anyway!” He gets up from his seat, points at Yeosang this time “Guess who almost got kicked out of college for messing around with the wrong crowd today?”

“That's not what happened!”

And Seonghwa swears he's focusing on the story Hongjoong is so eager to tell, on Yeosang’s ears turning pink at the mention of a girl he's never heard before, too.

But all he can think about is you.

The next day, after briefly stopping by his office, Seonghwa is back with a few coworkers who help with measurements and put their input in the assessment. He spends all day with it, too and, once again, serves as an excuse for Soohyun to get out of some meetings he's not interested in attending.

As the day passes, he wonders how Soohyun maintains the important position he's in. Nepotism can't do everything for you, right?

Right?

But his new client seems down to earth enough to be aware of his advantages in an industry that's quick and cruel and doesn't hold too much space for laziness.

So he lets it go because, well, he tends to judge but he can't really do much for people who actually deserve to be in charge.

It's close to seven and Soohyun bidded him goodbye only a few minutes ago, saying sorry he can't walk him out because, at this time, he actually has an international call to make that can't be excused like the rest of his afternoon schedule.

Seonghwa doesn't make it out of the office before getting stopped by a manicured hand to his chest.

After the texts last night and Hongjoong's threats, he was practically ready to sprint downstairs to meet you (or whoever you sent) and get his bike back, maybe apologize for panicking and sending a whole ass sticker as a response instead of keeping the conversation going.

And to see you again. God, he wants to break his Bonneville one more time just to get to see your pretty face again.

He already idealized you in his head, which is bad and very amateur on his side, but no one needs to know that.

But now he might have to keep all of that waiting for a few more minutes because there's someone staring at him like just committed a crime. A crime he's unaware of.

“Who are you?”

Her scowl tells him she's trying to get a read on him and he thinks he's transparent enough for it to be easy. If he really thinks about it, though, it looks like she wants to scare him a little bit.

It doesn't work.

“Um, Park Seonghwa,” he says and then points over his shoulder, to Soohyun’s office “I’m working on renovating Mr. Kim’s office?”

“Oh, for fucks sake. Why can't no one in this family keep normal people around?” She peeks through his shoulder, the high heels she's wearing helping her with the task. Groaning, she turns around and starts heading for the elevator, mumbling something under her breath.

The only thing he can make out of it it's something about supermodels and a it's not fair.

She turns around briefly to look at him again and scoffs, clearly annoyed.

“I feel like I know your face from somewhere else.”

Seonghwa feels a little lost, but steps into the elevator when she does. Now he's afraid, maybe she's a crazy person but then it clicks.

Clearly, he knows her from somewhere else too.

“I'm sure the only place I've seen you before is on the news, Miss Kim,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit and hitting the main floor button on the panel “That's a nice tree, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“The one on Mr. Kim’s office?” he offers, turning to her “He told me his sister painted it and as far as I know, he only has one sister.”

That brings a smile to her face and Seonghwa counts it as a small victory, for some reason.

“Ah, so you did your research,” she nods “Please scrape it off the wall if needed. It made me bleed.”

“He omitted that part.”

“Of course he did, it was his fault. Anyway,” she shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator and walking ahead without waiting for him. She looks like the type of person who knows everyone else will follow and he does, but only out of curiosity “my brother has your number, yes, Mr. Park?”

“I'm assuming he does or, at least, my company's numb—”

“I'm not interested in your company, I'm interested in you.”

She's also very forward. How could he not guess that from the way she carries herself around?

“I don't usually do freelance work, Miss Kim.”

As they both reach the main entrance, she turns around gracefully and with a, for what he can tell, very rehearsed smile tugging at her lips.

“I'm not interested in your work either, Mr. Park.”

That, he did guess, but it's disappointing either way.

“Then what good am I to you?”

Her grin widens “You'll see.”

The sound of his Bonneville pulling up it's what gets him to turn away from the mischievous glint in the chaebol's eyes.

And when he sees you take off a helmet that's not his and wave your hand at him, she blends into the background completely.

You look good, hair down and probably freshly showered because there's a few droplets falling down from the ends of it to your shirt and leather jacket. Your hands are gloved up and all, like you've been riding bikes your whole life.

He wonders if that's the case. God, he wants to get to know you so bad.

“Oh God, not another one, I— Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Park?”

His head snaps back, eyes wide and cheeks turning pink “N-no, I just met her yesterday, she… That's my bike, I had to get it fixed.”

Pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth for a second, she nods and then takes two long strides into the direction of a car he didn't see until now “Perfect, then. She looks pretty cool,” she waves at you and he doesn't get to see if you wave back, too focused on getting the color out of his cheeks “Tell her I said that. Goodbye for now, Mr. Park.”

Seonghwa wants to ask a million questions. What does she want? What does she mean goodbye for now? But he doesn't get to. She gets into the car and drives off and that leaves space for you to drive his bike again and pull up right in front of him this time.

“Hope I didn't interrupt anything there, Ghost.”

A nervous chuckle abandons him and he manages to shake his head “No, no, she's… my client’s sister?” He offers and you smile, turning off the bike and getting off a second later “She said you're, um, cool.”

“And why would she say that?”

“Because you look cool? I don't really know, don't question me,” he's sure the efforts he put on making the blush disappear were pointless, cheeks burning when you laugh at him “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Don't thank me, Seonghwa, I didn't tell you how much it'll cost you yet.”

He gulps.

You take mercy on him and the way his eyes glisten with worry, laughing again “It's not too bad. It was the chain tensioner and my brother worked on it pretty fast, don't worry.”

Relaxing, he takes his helmet and key off your offering hands with a tiny smile, touch lingering on your skin for a second too long “Did you enjoy seeing me suffer just now?”

“A little bit,” you shrug and mutter your apologies although he can tell you're not sorry at all “I'll text you the invoice with the account you can send the money to?”

No.

He wants to say no and make you go with him to an ATM so he can pay in cash just to keep you around for a while longer, he doesn't want this interaction to be over.

And he's usually very good at communicating things of this nature but something about you makes him giddy and nervous and his charisma is not able to keep up.

It dawns on him that it's very weird to want to keep a stranger, someone he only met a day ago, in his life for as long as possible.

Do you feel the same way? He wants you to feel the same way.

The unexpected desire sits on his chest heavily, making him take in a breath more shakily than he intended to.

“Sure,” the words taste bitter on his tongue, his tone gives away that he doesn't really mean it and then said desire takes over, making him stammer the next words out “Do you want me to take you somewhere?”

Surprised, you blink a few times and then look down at your own helmet for a second. He feels like he screwed up by asking you that.

Of course, you don't feel the same way. Of course, you must have someone waiting for you already.

Of course, of course, of fucking course.

But just before he can backpedal on his offer, you're looking up, your mind made up and the same teasing smile you've been wearing ever since he saw you yesterday “It won't save you from the debt I'm about to put you through with that invoice but sure.”

Seonghwa lets out a huff and chuckle all in the same breath, straddling his bike a second later “Ha, ha. Count it as a tip, Y/N.”

“Oh, I'm so telling my brother that,” you beam when he returns the joke and he moves a little, making space for you at the back “Somehow, I don't feel safe with you riding this bike, Ghost.”

He ignites it and the whole thing shakes a bit before you can even put on the helmet, so he can't really refute that.

“Do you want to ride it?”

It's a second too late when he realizes the double meaning behind his own words, unintended, but there they are floating on the air around you both, electric and maybe one sided.

But you don't back down, taking a step into his space and crowding him, almost towering over him even if he's on the bike and even if that makes him taller than you. It feels that way, so he welcomes the sensation and the pang of his heart against his chest when you lean in just a little.

“Do you want me to ride it?”

Breath caught in his throat, Seonghwa takes in your smirk as a sign that, maybe, it's not one sided at all.

“The bike,” you clarify a second later, like it's necessary “It would be easier to get us to where I need to go, anyways.”

Planting his feet on the ground, he keeps the Bonneville stable enough to slide back to the space he created for you a minute ago, and if you can feel his heart beating with an unfamiliar, yet exciting song when you take a seat, put your helmet on and press your back against his chest, you sure cover it up when you turn to look at him.

“Does your fancy job provide you health insurance?”

He lets out an amused huff “Yours doesn't?”

“I never asked,” you shrug, taking the handles and looking forward again, leaning in slightly so now he's not that close to you but he feels you everywhere still “Just making sure in case I break you.”

When you start driving him, handling the Bonneville in a way he never would even with the years of experience ahead of him, he wants to tell you that he wouldn't mind that.

In fact, he finds himself wanting it.

As he holds tight to your waist, he finds himself on the verge of telling you to break him apart piece by piece so he can do the same with you. Explore you, not physically, but in the way it truly matters.

He wants to know your soul, he wants to understand the reason he feels attached to you after a brief meeting and little more.

You lean back to rest your back a little at a stop sign and he suddenly doesn't care if the way he squishes your waist for a few seconds gives his intentions away. He has your number, he's going to make a move eventually.

What he does care about is the way you don't tense up and just lean into his body a little more before resuming the task of getting both of you wherever you're going

This? The way he feels so free as you move through the highway, make your way in between the cars at stop signs and the wind hitting his arms? This is the grasp at his youth he's been waiting for. Even if it's just for the night.

Even if it's over too soon for his liking.

You stop in front of a house that looks empty. He wonders if it's yours for a second, but then again he's going to find out any minute soon.

“That wasn't too bad, was it?”

Getting down from his Bonneville, you take your helmet off and offer him your hand. He slides up his helmet so you can see his face, about to reply, but you beat him to it “Thank you so much for the ride that I technically gave myself, Park Seonghwa, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Why are you saying goodbye like you're not planning on seeing him ever again?

Suddenly, he's planning on ways to mess up his bike again just to get an excuse to see you again.

No.

He has to be braver than that.

Taking your hand, he pulls you in a little bit and you let out a surprised noise that looks like it embarrasses you.

Your cheeks turn red under the streetlight and he thinks you look beautiful like that.

“Y/N,” he starts in a whisper, gathering his courage up “Would you like to—”

“Y/N.” A voice interrupts him and your eyes widen in panic while you look at him, slowly turning your head to the person as he does the same.

Not before he notices how the pretty blush and all colors drain from your face.

A guy, with blonde shaggy hair and tattoos covering his neck and hands is standing on the sidewalk with a grocery store bag and a weird look on his face. Beside him, a girl who’s smile fades away when she seems to recognize you scoffs.

The guy smiles and Seonghwa wonders why you don't say anything back, your grasp on his hand tightening before letting go.

“There you are, your dad said—”

“Ghost?”

Seonghwa doesn't like the way your voice shakes when you say the nickname he's grown used to in such a short amount of time.

“Yes?”

You don't bother putting the helmet back on, simply dropping it to the ground and turning back at him “I trust you to ride this bike now, yeah?”

He doesn't have to be told twice. Making space for you again, you hop on and hug his waste. He slides his helmet back on.

The guy takes a few steps but Seonghwa stops him with the sound of him revving his Bonneville “Come on, Y/N…” Is what he says when he starts to drive off, accelerating just a little bit before the houses start fading and the busy highway welcomes you both.

Deokhee has some nerve.

The fact that he does boils your bloodstream and you wish you could say that the warm sensation spreading through your body is caused by the guy who you're currently holding to.

Seonghwa has checked in with you once and, after confirming you were okay to keep going, he has held your gloved hands at every red light and stop sign.

You have no idea where you're going, but you're sure you can't go home and deal with this alone for now. He can't take you home, either (he doesn't know the address) but even if he could, you wouldn't let him.

The nameless girl that was with Deokhee is the same girl he cheated with. A girl who, by judging her expression, probably knew about you.

Mind going as fast as the Boneville, you ask yourself how many times she made fun of you for grasping a fantasy, a make-believe story with her now boyfriend.

What did you lack that she obviously has? What prompted him to hurt you this badly?

Is he stupid enough to not realize that the sight of them together would tear you apart all over again?

The scene replays in your head again, after all these years of trying to get over it: Him, holding your hand and telling you how amazing you were to him but that, in all honesty, he didn't see himself going out with someone like you.

You were too much, too proud, too loud.

Which doesn't make any fucking sense because although you never held back a jab or a sarcastic comment if needed, you knew the time and place to speak your mind.

It also didn't make any fucking sense because he knew you would keep his little secret from your father and your brother and, in consequence, keep the relationship you both had and the cowardly way it ended from his family as well.

You were too much, composed of many flaws and adorned with rough and burnt edges, but you would never in a million years tarnish the happiness of the people who love you because of a rookie mistake.

Falling in love with Deokhee was a rookie, horrible mistake.

Falling in love in general? You doubt it.

Because the way Seonghwa takes his time to slow down the bike on a lookout you were too distracted to notice you were climbing up to, pulls it to a full stop and then immediately reaches for your hands again, makes you believe there's good people out there after all.

He took you away without asking any questions and you're suddenly welcomed with the same grateful feeling you have towards your family.

Had you stayed there, you're not so sure you would've kept your words to yourself anymore. Your pain, your anger.

Getting down from the bike, Seonghwa takes his helmet off and drops it in front of you, on the seat, before leaning in a searching for your glossy eyes.

You can see him hesitate through the fog your tears form and you don't let them drop just yet. You're angry, but there's no way you would let Deokhee make you cry again in this lifetime.

You should get down from the bike, but it doesn't move under your weight even if you readjust your position on the seat and you fear that, if you do, you would only plop down into the ground and let it swallow you whole.

You should say something, too. Thank him, probably, but the tall man lets out a breath before opening his arms and pointing at the view. Gladly, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Didn't know where else to take you, so I brought you to my breaking point.”

“Hm?” frowning a bit, you peel your eyes from the city lights to him “Your breaking point?”

“Yeah, that's what I call it,” he smiles and you do too, halfheartedly “Here's where I come to break down and let everything out. There's a playground back there too,” he points behind him and you scoff, amused “If you want to climb up somewhere and scream. The neighbors don't mind it.”

“I take that as a I've done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he shrugs “It's good for the soul.”

“God,” you cover your face with your hands “I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that.”

“Like what? You didn't do anything.”

“Running away and acting all weak in front of…” you fake gag, but it's kind of real “Some guy.”

A bit of silence passes in between you and your savior.

And then Seonghwa laughs so hard you're forced to uncover your face and stare at him in disbelief “I'm serious! That's like… top one most embarrassing thing I've ever done.”

His laugh comes to a stop and he doesn't step closer even if you want him to, just puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and looks at you for what it feels like forever.

You don't mind it one bit.

“I've known you for a day, Y/N, but even I can tell that's not the most embarrassing thing you've done.”

Sulking, you turn to the beautiful view one more time and pout like a child. You want to tell him he's right, but your pride doesn't really allow it just yet.

It's quiet for a minute or two. You move around, throw your leg over the Boneville and sit on top of it as you stare at the city. You feel Seonghwa move around, pace behind you until he finally reaches around takes a few steps before stopping on the railing separating the street from the hill.

He's looking in your direction instead of the view. You realize he's giving you space to sulk, to take in everything without pestering you with questions about why the hell you both just bolted instead of facing the situation.

Your gratitude towards him rises a bit more.

So your word vomit is justified, you think, because you don't want to leave him in the dark any longer.

The fantasy you indulged yourself in earlier might just grow into a reality you have to embrace, a reality you want to embrace.

“He's my ex-something and the girl he was with is the one he chose over me. I was supposed to have dinner with them— Well, no, not really,” you sigh, looking at Seonghwa who, in the deem light, just nods and waits for you to continue “He's my dad’s best friend's son and we have dinner with them every Tuesday. Their family, I mean. Deokhee… He never shows up,” you shrug “And when he does, he's alone and it's towards the end of it all so I never get to see him that long. But this?” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “I never thought he would do this to me.”

Finally getting off the bike, you walk slowly towards the railing as well and feel Seonghwa's eyes follow you as you do “He cheated on me with her, for Christ sake.” You whisper once the metal of the railing stops your step.

“How long ago?”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” from the corner of your eye, you see how he shakes his head and leans in slightly “I'm wondering because if I was your dad or your brother or your friend, I would've done something to, at least, ensure something like this never happens to you.”

“Yeah, about that…” A bitter chuckle abandons you and you shrug one more time “They don't really know what happened between us— They don't know something happened in the first place,” ashamed, once again, you turn to him “He asked me to not tell anyone when we started… Ack, whatever, it doesn't really matter.”

“It does if it's affecting you,” he insists “It does if you go pale at the sight of him, Y/N. Did he do—”

“No,” you cut him off, the corners of your lips lifting a bit “He didn't do anything weird besides breaking my heart.”

“Good.”

“I would've killed him if he did, by the way.”

“As you should,” he returns right away and finally, for the first time in the twenty minutes it took both of you to get there, you laugh sincerely. That prompts a smile on his lips “Good to know he's an idiot but not that type of idiot.”

Huffing, you turn to the city before you again “The only idiot in this situation is me.”

“For loving someone? Y/N,” his hand reaches your shoulder and you close your eyes in defeat, surrendering your heart to the weird emotion it brings you “He cheated on you. He's the idiot, the dumbass, the—”

Laughing again, his rant comes to an end and you open your eyes to find him staring at you in delight “Park Seonghwa,” you start, putting a hand over his on your shoulder “You, sir, don't know me.”

The reminder does nothing to stop him from looking at you with stars in his eyes “I'm a great judge of character, Y/N.”

“And if you're wrong?”

“Then let me be wrong,” he shortens the distance a bit, the warmth on your shoulder leaving as he lowers both of your hands, not letting go “But let me get to know you first.”

The emotion grows bigger, it swirls around your heart and spreads around your body in a way you never felt. It feels good and you hate to compare it to what you felt for Deokhee but where it once was filled with regrets and doubts and a need to hold on tight to whatever that guy made you feel now sits something that you can only describe as excitement and thrill.

Peaceful, too.

It steals your breath in a beautiful way.

Squeezing his hand a little, you inhale slowly and let go of the air when you speak “I don't really do dates, Ghost.”

“I didn't ask you on a date,” he counters immediately and your cheeks darken “I asked if I could get to know you. We don't have to go on dates, talking to you is enough.”

“O-oh, I… I thought—”

He seems to get it right away because he takes another step, your arm pressed to his by now, your hands still tangled in the middle “I one hundred percent meant it that way,” he assures you, chuckling a bit “But I don't really do dates either. Asking you out to a restaurant or a movie or whatever it is people do on dates doesn't really suit me.”

“How so?”

“There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” Your heart picks up at that. Not at the image it paints, but at his explanation as a whole.

It shows he might be interested in you beyond something physical and it's a beautiful thing to note when, all your life, you have felt like people only wanted you for one thing and one thing only.

You intend to tell him just that but the way he's looking at you makes you forget everything else. Brown eyes scan every inch of your face and stop at your lips for a second.

Now your heart beats for a different reason.

“No matter… How bad I want to kiss you, though.”

Words fall short. They do when for the first time in a long time you entertain the possibility of letting yourself want to kiss someone else, too.

Leaning in and straightening your back fully to give you the possibility of almost standing face to face with him, you silently communicate your desire.

It's not enough. He's too respectful.

Fuck, you like him a lot already.

“If you want to kiss me then just kiss me…” you whisper, teasing smile in full display “Dummy.”

He fakes a gasp at your jab as he leans in, his pretty nose bumping into yours for a second and making you giggle, part your lips and close your eyes while buzzing with expectation.

The sky has other plans, though. It roars above you and you both look up.

It's been cloudy, a couple of days of unusual humidity throwing off everyone but you guess the steam gathered up in the clouds just in time to knock some sense of reality into you.

Or pushing you further into the craziness of this one day alone.

Seonghwa groans a little and then a phone starts ringing in someone's pocket.

Not yours, you made sure to hit the not disturb button as soon as you got ahold of it.

You should probably tell your brother you're okay.

But Seonghwa is still close to you, his lips a breath away from yours, so you put it aside when he shows no intention of picking up his call either.

The tension builds up again, both of you ignoring the thunderstorm approaching and everything else.

There's many things from today you're not going to be able to explain any time soon, the magnetic pull Seonghwa had on you the first time you laid eyes on him is one of them, the freedom you touch with your fingertips when your mind is finally off your duty, off your family…

It's so dangerous you quickly become addicted to the recklessness of it all.

And then his phone starts ringing again, so you welcome the reality that washes over you with a sour face and pout on your lips.

“The universe must be against us being a thing, huh?” You whisper and he clicks his tongue in disapproval, resting his forehead on yours for a second before pulling away completely, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I don't think the universe has much to do with this one, dear,” he frowns and misses the way you flush at the sudden nickname. You swear on your life, normally you would be pretty disgusted at the endearment. Now? You want him to call you that again “I should take this and we should probably go somewhere else. There's not much to cover us up if it starts raining.”

“Sure, uh…” You fish your phone from your pocket as well, grimacing when you look at the missed calls and texts “I have to make a call, too.”

He seems to understand immediately “Go right ahead.”

Putting even more distance in between both of you, you faintly hear a what's going on from Seonghwa and then tap your screen to return your brother's call.

He picks up right away.

“Are you okay?!”

His tone forces your eyes closed. Rushed, you picture him in the backyard with a cigarette in between his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself without worrying everyone else too much “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with a friend and—”

“Then why don't you pick up the fucking phone?!”

“Calm down,” taking in a breath and letting it out, you hear him do the same before continuing “Is there a way I can explain all of this to you tomorrow? I'm fine, Deokhee is a dick and I don't ever want to see him so I ran away like a—”

“What did he do?”

“No, nothing now, it's just… Listen, I'll explain tomorrow, alright? I'm staying with my friend tonight and everything will make sense tomorrow. It's really dumb, like… Teenage drama dumb,” you sigh, hoping that the minimal information you're giving him can help him figure it out “Just tell dad that I'm fine and if he asks I'm with a friend who is a girl and she's staying over at my place because there was a… Boy emergency or whatever.”

“Are you with—” what seems to click is something else and your brother gasps “Y/N!”

“Can you help out this time?”

The silence on the line seems to extend forever and guilt licks your throat, giving you the feeling that it's about to close up.

You want to grasp what you felt a minute ago again, the freedom of this, of doing too much, of unnecessarily putting Christian through it because he already did so much for you growing up.

Just tonight, at least, you owe yourself the feeling of not proving your place in your own family.

But the silence hurts and you wonder if you could ever, truly, be free from it.

“You owe me an explanation. Take care and text me goodnight at least, yeah?”

“Okay,” you whisper back “Thank you, Ian.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, kid.”

His words fill your eyes with tears again and you don't get to reciprocate them before he hangs up. You know he knows, but it still hurts when you remember how unlovable you felt before you met him as a child.

It hurts when you remember that you allowed Deokhee to make that feeling return.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

And the more it hurts, the more the sky rumbles and you fear that, if you break down here and now, it would not only embarrass you in front of Seonghwa but also strand him on this hill with you.

It doesn't matter that he calls this his breaking point, it's not yours to use.

So again, your tears stay at bay and when you turn around you catch Seonghwa looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

He wants to hug you, his body language gives him away as soon as he steps closer to you but a storm is about to soak through your clothes any second, so you pass him and grab his hand to pull him to his bike in the process.

When his fingers intertwine with yours, you know he understands. He doesn't make any questions, he doesn't press any information out of you and just allows you to climb his motorcycle.

“We need to leave.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, getting on the bike as well and goes in for his helmet but your words stop him.

“Do you want to stay the night with me?”

Turning his head, he blinks at you a few times and you smile a little before the curve fades away.

“I have my own place, we can order something in and just talk. Seonghwa, you…” biting the inside of your cheek, you try to approach this the right way “I don't expect this to go anywhere but can't you… Do you feel it too?”

He stays silent and you fear you might've taken it too far. But it doesn't really matter. Willing to take the risk, you take his hand on yours again and hold it close to your heart.

The sky roars again in response.

And you catch when his breath hitches because of it, too.

“Do you feel it, Seonghwa?”

A bit passes and then some, his eyes searching for something in yours and then dropping to where your heart beats again.

“What's your address?”

It's already raining by the time you both get into your building’s garage and park his Bonneville.

The entire ride was a bit long. It had you resting your head on his back while his fingers tapped against yours with impatience.

But when you make it to the safe space that is the elevator, clothes showing the evidence of the droplets falling from the sky and all, you finally get to breathe.

Until Seonghwa steals that breath away again.

He stares at you through the mirror, steps closer until he can take your face with his hands and swipes under your eyes where the makeup has run a little.

“Ghost…”

‘I didn't answer before,” he murmurs and wet his lips with his tongue. You can't help but stare at them, the moment somehow more intimate now, under the fluorescent glow of the elevator, than with the city lights and lighting above you “But I do feel it. I stand on what I said before, though.”

“No dating?”

He chuckles “No, not that,” shaking his head, he steps away when the elevator gets to your floor “I want to get to know you either way.”

“Ah. That,” you feel silly for assuming he didn't want to date you, but given your history you're not sure you can blame yourself too much “Well, you're about to see my cave, so we're both halfway there.”

As soon as you open the door and turn on the light, you can see in his face that he sees what you mean.

It's a one bedroom apartment that doesn't leave too much to the imagination. Your bedroom’s door is opened, the bathroom door is closed and the kitchen is an American style one that's separated from the living space by a small counter you can barely fit your mail on.

There's a lot of old furniture that you remodeled, painted over the cracks and stuffed where you needed the most. Your fridge is also old, the couch is somehow the only modern looking item in the living room and it stands out a bit because its material is not as worn out as everything else.

There's posters on the walls, unframed and placed randomly because, here, you don't have to be put together. The only people who come over are your brother and your dad, so it's okay.

It's not even an old building, but your apartment makes it look like one.

“Hope you don't mind the mess, Grandpa.”

“Oh, I'm not Ghost anymore?” He asks with a breathy laugh, taking his shoes off as you place yours by the entrance and shrugging his jacket off too “It's not messy, it's… Kind of like the shop, really.”

Mirroring his actions, you take off the leather jacket and welcome the warmth of your apartment “Greasy?”

“Cool,” he corrects and you walk through your space picking up a few things from the floor and putting them by the living room table “Is it yours, by the way?”

“The shop?” he nods and you walk to your fridge to fetch you both some water bottles “It's my dads. Why do you ask?”

“You seemed to own the place, with the way you walked around it,” shrugging, he takes a seat on your couch as he takes in the space “I just wondered…”

Walking in front of him on purpose, because you could've easily rounded the table and sat at the opposite edge of the couch, you sit right beside him and offer him a water bottle that he takes with a whispered thanks “You wondered…”

“A lot of stuff, actually,” he admits and you smile “Like your age, for example. Your last name, how did you end up working as a mechanic, if you were studying something, if you…” he pauses and turns to the side, resting his shoulder on the couch “If you liked me the way I liked you.”

Choking on the water you're gulping down, it's very evident you didn't think he was about to go down that lane again.

So directly, too.

He laughs, leaning in and wiping your chin with a familiarity that has you even more breathless than his confession. No, scratch that, it's all of it. All of him.

“Don't make me get on that bike again tonight, dear.”

That goddamn endearment again. You might risk it all and kiss him, chin wet and all.

“Whatever for?”

“You clearly almost choked to death,” he exaggerates, probably an excuse to stay that close to you longer than he needs to “And it was my fault, too.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you push him a bit until he falls back into his previous position, smugness tugging at his lips in a way that has your insides jolting up with excitement “I do like you, Ghost.”

“I know that now, but earlier I did wonder.”

“Wondering is such a dangerous thing, isn't it?”

His smile settles with a softness that melts you, your hand back in his with ease “Not necessarily.”

Squeezing his hand in unspoken agreement, you nod and then try to remember the topic of conversation before… Well, before he distracted you.

“Well, you were kind of right with your assumptions then. It's not my shop, but I grew up in it,” you shrug, letting go of his hand to grab your phone “We should probably wait to order something.”

“Yeah, until the monsoon dies down,” he says, looking outside your window that does little to conceal the thunderstorm outside “You grew up fixing bikes?”

“Cars,” you correct with a nod, connecting your phone to the speaker that lies under your tv “Is my day to day playlist alright?”

“Yup,” he crosses his legs on the couch and you see from the corner of your eye how his follow your actions, heat rushing to your cheeks at how attentive he is “Did you always want to be a mechanic?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you cover it up as you set the volume to the perfect percentage to let you two have a proper conversation without raising your voices “Kind of. It's all I'm good at, really,” you shrug “Also, my dad’s wife looked very cool in pictures growing up and I wanted to be just like her, so.”

“Your mom?” you shake your head and he frowns “Your stepmom?”

“No, uh…” clearing your throat, you get ready to reveal a piece of you that you rarely share with other people, even if it's obvious to everyone else “I'm adopted. Me and my brother we, mmm, we used to live in this sort of… Group house, I guess, and dad just picked us one day,” word vomiting again, once that you open the dam you don't know how to stop “I mean, he's not… We're not blood related, either, he just brought me along like when you adopt a dog at a shelter and they give you their favorite blanket, you know?”

Seonghwa is full on frowning at that and you think that, for the sake of just agreeing with you, he's going to nod and let it go, but he doesn't “I don't think you're just something your brother brought along with him. Adopting two kids is a big decision, isn't it?”

Reluctantly, you nod.

“Well, there you go.”

“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him, though,” you shrug and sip on your water bottle again, gulping the liquid to send that lump on your throat down “But it doesn't really matter because it was a long time ago and now they're both stuck with me.”

He shakes his head but laughs a little at your sudden shift and, this time, he does let it go.

But you don't.

“Thank you, by the way.”

He smiles, a little confused “For what?”

“Helping me when I needed you to. We don't really know each other and yet…”

“It feels like I know you, though.”

Sharing the sentiment, you nod “I know, it's weird but, uhm… You didn't need to do what you did for me tonight. You even took me to your breaking point!” you let out a puff of air, making it a bigger deal than what it sounds. It's a bigger deal for you, anyway “And then drove me all the way here. That's a lot.”

“It's not much. It was my fault, really,” he shrugs and shakes his head at the confused look you give him “I kind of… Asked the universe for an excuse to stay with you, so…”

“Ah, so it was your fault Deokhee showed up,” the lighthearted joke lands the way you intended because he laughs with a sound so beautiful it makes your heart pick up “Got it.”

“Do you feel better? I mean, after seeing him, are you feeling better?”

“Not really, it sucks,” you say with a bitter laugh “But I hold grudges like that. It's not…” you raise your hands in self defense suddenly “I don't want him like that anymore, it's just that I can't help but…”

“I understand,” he whispers and you let out a sigh again, grateful that he interrupted your rambling “People believe that forgive and forget is the way to go when you're resenting someone but human beings don't really work like that, hm?”

“Yeah…”

Staring at him, that weird emotion that you felt at the top of the hill comes back. That dangerous warmth that makes you want to take his hand in yours and place your lips at the back of it with a familiarity you haven't really earned yet.

So when you catch him staring at you the same way, you change the subject.

“What do you do?” eyebrow raising, you eye him suspiciously and that makes him giggle “Meetings all day, past normal shift hours…”

“I renovate spaces, Y/N,” he laughs again “You made it sound like I work with the mafia.”

“Do you?”

“No. I have a buddy that does, though.”

“Oh, so I was kind of right then?”

“Yeah, yeah…” you both laugh again and then he looks around your living space like he did when you two first got in “You were right about the whole getting to know you just by looking at your apartment.”

“I know, it says a lot about a person.”

“It does!” He's excited now, sitting straighter and turning ever so slightly, your knees bumping now “There's only a few people that I trust who have those… Beige, white and black houses or apartments and that's only because I got to know them before I saw where they live.”

“So, you have rich friends?”

He stops and thinks for a second “Yeah, they all have a lot of money. I mean, the people I'm talking about, not my friends,” you raise your eyebrow again and he chuckles “Alright, I only have one rich friend. The rest of them are broke musicians and college students. He was actually the one who called earlier and, uhm…”

“Interrupted us?” You offer, smiling.

His cheeks gain a little color, maybe from the memory “Y-yeah.”

“Everything's okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, he wanted me to go pick him up from something but I told him I couldn't because, well—”

“You were with me.”

“Mhm,” you see him gulp and the mood shifts a little bit again. His face falls down as he eyes your parted lips, leaning in again ever so slightly, like he's not really thinking it through “Couldn't leave you stranded and he has a chauffeur.”

Unconsciously, you start leaning in a bit too.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes… D-do I like what?”

You chuckle and he breathes out a laugh, too “Renovating spaces…”

Pressing his hands into the fabric on the couch, at your sides, he invades your space a little more now “I do… Do you like fixing cars?”

Nodding, your nose is a whisper away from his now “I do…”

He breathes and it lands right on your mouth, making you pant as well.

“That's good.”

“Mhm.”

Eyes closing, your lips tremble a little as you wait for him to close the distance.

“You're so fucking pretty—”

You close the distance instead, pressing your mouth into his and letting the tension deflate your posture because you're finally tasting him.

Your little fantasy is not a fantasy anymore.

And it feels so fucking good. It feels good to have someone you desire, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, reciprocate your emotions and pull you closer to make acquaintance with your taste as well.

Seonghwa makes a noise you want to engrave into your brain the second you grab his shirt and pull him to you as well. And then you move.

The couch is stuffy, your bed is a mess and the cold from the thunderstorm makes its way to your living room even if you feel your entire body lit up from the swipe of his tongue against yours.

So you stand up.

You give him a teasing smile when his mouth chases after yours once you pull away “Where are you going?”

“Another thing you should know about me,” you start, breathy, your thumb swiping your bottom lip on instinct and his eyes follow the motions “Is that I have very noisy neighbors. The woman in that apartment over there,” you point at the window right in front of yours, the building separated by the street but still close enough to tell everything that goes inside your neighbors apartment if you wanted to “Once made a complaint against me because I walked out in my underwear one time.”

“Is she blind or bitter or something?” he asks, amused by your sudden storytelling, chest heaving as you pull your curtains closed “Or both?”

“She's old,” you tell him, turning around “And you haven't seen me in my underwear to make that a point, Ghost.”

“Yet,” he smirks slyly and you blush at the implication. Seonghwa reaches for you as you pass in front of him again and slip right through his fingers a second time “Now where are you going?”

He sounds whiny.

You like that.

“Another thing you should know about me,” walking to the door and turning off the big light, the living room goes dark except for the lighting that illuminates it as you're making your way back to him, getting on your knees on the couch and reaching behind him to turn on a lamp that doesn't do much but, this way, at least you can see each other “Is that I don't invest in new shit. Can't afford it, so those curtains are useless during the day… And when the lights are turned on.”

“You don't want people to gossip about you kissing a hot guy?”

“Wow,” his cockiness is clearly a joke but you won't let the opportunity of making fun of him go “Is the hot guy in the room with us?”

He beams at you.

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.”

Humming and feeling a lot more comfortable now that you know that, in fact, the spotlight won't be on you when you keep kissing his lips raw as you intend to, you loop your index finger in the collar of his shirt and tug with minimal force at it.

He acts like you put a lot of strength while doing it, his lips a breath from yours again as a consequence.

You're about to let out a witty remark, something to keep the teasing and flirting going but then his eyes actually light up like the sky when the song playing on the speaker changes.

“That's what you were humming yesterday!” His hands fall to your waist and you all but get whiplashed at the quick change in attitude.

He looked like he was about to risk it all a second ago and now he's letting his back fall into the couch and taking you with him.

“Huh?”

“I didn't saw anyone when I came into the shop yesterday and then I heard you humming this song.”

“Oh,” you laugh, braising yourself on your forearms as he moves his hands up your back “Is one of my favorite songs by them.”

“By who?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you gape at him in disbelief “Kiss?”

“I don't know them like that!”

“You don't know this?” he giggles under your scrutinizing gaze and you follow, still in disbelief. You don't really know what possesses you, but you start singing along to the lyrics “I was made for lovin’ you, baby. You were made for lovin’ me.”

Seonghwa's laughter dies down at that and you notice it too: How the words somehow seem fitting even though you is day two of knowing him.

The way his heart beats under the palm you place right above it, on his chest, feels intoxicating.

So you descend again, your front colliding with his and your mouth grazing his beautiful one as you sing the song to him.

“And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?”

“Fuck…”

You laugh “That's not really how it goe—”

His tongue probing your lips open shuts you up for good.

Seonghwa's hands hold you close, tracing the curve on your back slowly with his thumbs until he finds that spot where your shirt rode up a little, goosebumps on your skin letting him know what he provokes on you.

There's never been a point in time where you let yourself wonder if you're moving too fast.

For you, someone who had to take every chance they got in life to get something, out of fear the opportunity wouldn't show up again, this thing you got with Seonghwa feels like it's going at the right pace.

You both like each other, that much is clear.

Nothing dramatic has really happened to bond you two together, but it feels like it has.

Like you're bonded.

Like it was fated, somehow.

Like his motorcycle had to break down and he had to walk into the shop when you were the only one there to assist him.

Like he had to see you breakdown, take you away from the despair Deokhee brings to your soul, in order for you to finally let go and move on to greater things.

And there's nothing greater than feeling his hand travel down and absentmindedly grab your ass, a noise of satisfaction slipping through your lips and landing on his at the feeling.

“I'm so—”

“I liked it,” your smile blends with his as you peck his lips and he does it again, gaining a pleased hum from you “Come here, Ghost.”

“Where?”

Disentangling your limbs from his, you follow your original plan and slip from the couch to the floor, your knees hitting the soft carpet you have under the coffee table you're grateful is not that in the way.

Seonghwa sits on the couch again, opening his legs to accommodate the new position you're in and you see the image get to him before the suggestion hits your head.

You see him gulp when you lick your lips and then it's your turn to gulp, trying to understand if this is something he wants as much as you want it.

Because suddenly you want it. You want it so much.

It doesn't take much to gather up the courage to touch him, his thighs inviting you to caress them with your nails, teasing, testing him “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hooded eyes and a soft, whiny, trembling tone making fidget on your knees “More than okay.”

It makes you smile. But there's things to clear up before you go any further.

“I don't want you to think I brought you to my house just to get on my knees in front of you, Seonghwa.”

“I don't… I w-would never think that,” you nod and he releases a shuddering breath “I don't want you to think that this is all I want from you either, Y/N.”

“I don't think that,” you whisper “but thank you for making it clear.”

“Mhm, I… Oh.” He stops when your touch trails higher and you take your hands away.

“You wanted to say something else?”

“N-no.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you press “You sure?”

“I was going to say that I want you… S-so please touch me, please.”

Who would've thought that a man begging would turn you on so, so much?

You catch on to it immediately. Lowering your hands again, this time around his calves, you pull him a little so he can sit on the edge of the worned out couch.

He follows suit.

“You want me to touch you?” you murmur and he nods “Where?”

He closes his eyes, blush beautifully creeping up his neck “Y/N…”

“You asked me to touch you, but I already was…” you say, like it's the most obvious thing ever “So where do you want to be touched, hm?”

Straightening your spine and angling yourself upwards, your nose hovers just below his chin. Hands starting to go up again, you hear his breath hitched when your palm grabs into the fabric of his pants before letting it go, the sound of it hitting the skin under making you and him release a noise.

“How do you want to be touched?”

Looking down, Seonghwa's mouth barely brushes your nose when he says “So it's going to be like this?”

“It's working for you,” you whisper back, the pad of your fingers pressing on his inner thighs and, when you look down, the tent in his pants curves your lips with pride that shows when you turn to him again “Isn't it?”

Pupils blown, he bites down on his lip and you see, for a slight second, a switch in his demeanor that makes you want to drop the teasing just to ask him to take you right there, on the floor, on the couch, wherever he wants to.

But, as soon as your fingernails trace the outline of his cock, he switches back “P-please...”

He doesn't have to beg you anymore.

Desperate to have him squirming under your touch, you push a little with your thumbs and he whines, a sweet sound you can't treasure as long as you want to because hand grabs your neck and his mouth crushes yours in want.

In a few seconds, the button of his pants is off and the fabric is pooling at his ankles. You help him out of them, his mouth never leaving yours except when you two break apart to pass sweet moans in between kisses and barely there bites.

Boxers succumbing to the same fate as his pants, you get him needy and panting into your open mouth as you finally take him fully into your hand.

Pumping one and then twice, you finally pull away to look at him and the sight that welcomes you is beautiful, big and oozing at the tip.

Eyes connecting with Seonghwa’s again, you make sure he's looking at you before gathering spit and letting it fall into your hand.

He moans.

And then he moans a little more when you start working his length, butt connecting to the carpet once again to give him attention fully.

It feels invigorating, the control he gives you makes you float into an intimate space you never had the opportunity to explore before and that just adds up to the list of things you're grateful for.

You take in his reactions, the way he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut when you get close to the tip and tease it before going back down, the way his breath catches in his throat when you lean in and blow some air on it before letting yourself have a taste of him.

Licking around the tip and eyeing him as you do so, you get to catch him throw his head back in bliss. Then, you indulge both of you a little bit more: hollowing your cheeks, you move forward to take him in your mouth.

And then you moan around him at the feeling and he shivers under the palm you placed on his knee to keep steady as you suck him off.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dear,” he encourages and you bat your eyelashes at him teasingly, making him chuckle before whining again. Tangling his fingers on your head to guide you to the right speed, he closes his eyes and curses under his breath “So fucking good.”

It only makes you want to hear him again. So you do your best to stay on him, breathing through your nose and continuing your ministrations as you moans above you, filling your living room with sounds you want to plaster across the walls, encapsulate in a bottle to hear them again when he's not with you.

You take him deeper and his grasp on your head tenses before you release him with a lewd sound you didn't really intend to make.

Breathing hard, you let out a whine when he tilts your head back. He looks at you with indescribable desire, want and a little smile that prones yours.

“You have no idea,” he starts, leaning in to take you mouth with his again, tongue swiping at the saliva that gathered under your bottom lip “How bad I want to ruin you now.”

Oh, so maybe he's not as submissive as you thought. You should've guessed it, the slight switch and the little glint earlier would've hinted you his true intimate nature if you weren't so busy trying to get the act up.

“Only if you want to, of course.”

And yet, he's such a fucking gentleman. You can practically feel yourself getting wetter at his words.

Your whisper is sweet, a confirmation on what you want and what he obviously wants to hear “Come here, Ghost.”

You make space for him on the floor and he doesn't question why the both of you are not on the way to your bed right now.

He seems to like it, even, so you giggle into his mouth at his eagerness to lay you down on the soft carpet and hum appreciatively when his hands bypass your shirt and grab your bare waist to accommodate you both into a comfortable position.

With his leg in between yours and his chest pressed against you, he kisses you until you're pliant, needy and janking him down to earn some sort of friction.

Mouth descending down your cheek, into your jaw and then your neck, Seonghwa scatters kisses in the soft spots like he already mapped you out with his mouth.

His hands touch you where you like, his knee bumps into your core to keep you there as he works his way through you like he had you like this before and it's addicting.

It feels right.

He mouths at the valley of your breasts and softly sinks his teeth into the flesh through your shirt and it makes you dizzy, letting out a moan that makes him smile.

Touching him too, you give his back some attention before sinking your fingers on his silky hair and tugging at the strands.

He kisses down, down, down until he reaches your belly and then bites you the same way he did seconds ago “Ghost…”

“Say my name, Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“I love when you call me Ghost,” he starts, breathing hard and you watch his nose disappear under the fabric of your shirt, raising it a bit more when he moves to be eye to eye with you “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” kissing the sense out of you for a few seconds, he talks against your mouth “Can you do that for me, dear?”

“Yes,” you barely nod, opening your eyes to find his “Seonghwa.”

The way you whisper his name, needy and teasingly at the same time, seems to wake something else in him.

Because in a second, he's asking you to raise your body a little so he can take your shirt off. You help him with his and he moves to undo the clasp on your bra after asking for permission one more time and you shouldn't really find his insistent questioning of consent so hot but you do.

He takes his time with you, exploring you with his mouth as you do your best to keep still under him. He kisses your chest, rounding your nipples with his tongue and taking them into his mouth after.

Lightning illuminates the room and electricity runs through you and settles into your core.

“Seonghwa…”

The sky roars when he gives your legs attention over the fabric of your pants, moans blending into the thunder and the sound of the raindrops against the window when he pulls back and raises your left leg to kiss a path from your ankle to your thigh.

You buck your hips at the feeling, asking for more without really saying anything and he smiles before moving to your right leg and giving it the same amount of attention.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks and you're about to call him out for being mean and clueless, but his smirk proves he's only teasing “Where do you want me to touch you, Y/N?” voice low and dripping in honey, he unbuttons your pants and you're not too fucked out yet to know he's returning the way you tortured him earlier “How do you want me to touch you?”

Your pants end up meeting with his somewhere under the coffee table and you smile when he zeroes on the wet patch your arousal has formed on your underwear.

And, unlike him, you're not actually humble in asking what you want “Don't you want to taste the mess you've made, Seonghwa?”

When he eats you out, he makes sure to taste it real good. Open you up with his fingers, learn the right pace and pressure until heat pools on your lower abdomen and you're incoherently babbling praises under your breath.

When you come undone on his tongue, you make sure to repeat his name like a mantra. Over and over again until he's sated with his meal and leaves the remnants of it in wet marks as he makes his way up to your mouth.

Tasting yourself on his tongue is heaven.

“Sound so pretty for me, you're so… Fuck, Y/N.”

Taking him into your hand again, his dick twitches at the sudden attention it's getting and you explore the skin on his neck, lap at his collarbone and nuzzle against it because you just can't get enough.

“I want you inside me, Seonghwa,” you whisper against his skin and you see him close his eyes when your other hand joins you on his chest, thumb against his nipple “Ruin me like you promised, hm?”

He grabs your chin, eyes dark with passion and affection in a way you never want to forget “Your filthy mouth might be the death of me.” He whispers and you giggle, bratty.

“Good, I never want you to forget it,” you whisper back “I never want you to forget me.”

“Never in a million years, dear.”

Happy at his response, you kiss him and feel the warmth of his hand leaving you to try and grab his pants again. You giggle when he curses lowly, letting go of him so he can take a condom out of his wallet with a smile on his face.

He looks back at you in the process, shaking his head in amusement at the way you're taking the tender pause and he's smiling when he rolls on the condom as well as when he lowers himself so he can kiss you senseless again.

When Seonghwa enters you, the whiny mess he was when you first touched him makes its comeback and you welcomed it as you sink your nails into the skin of his waist, accompanying his slow movements as he eases you open.

Soon, you're a whiny mess too. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and kisses your shoulder while you hug him tight to you and let yourself get lost in the buck of his hips and the way he slows downs to make the moment last, like you're not planning on keeping him in your life and making him see stars whenever he wants.

When he picks up the pace, the living room is warmer than it was when you first came in and the cold from the storm outside it's forgotten as his sweaty forehead rests on yours and his hips snap into yours with vigor.

“That’s it, dear. God, you feel so good…”

Ruin you he does. Because this time, as he flicks your clit with his thumb and you come, it solidifies the fact that there's no one else you want.

Is it crazy and a little rushed because you just met him? Yes.

Do you give a damn? No. No you fucking dont.

He ruins you for good and for everyone else, as well.

“Seonghwa! Fuck, fuck, don't stop.” You beg, overstimulated and hips aching, but wanting him to reach his high so badly none of that matters.

When his hips stutter, you take his ass with your hands and keep him in place, buried deep inside of you and walls pulsing around him as he comes with a beautiful cry and a rasp of your name in his throat.

Panting, you take the opportunity to kiss his face as he comes down, nose slowly caressing his with affection and gratefulness and emotion you can't express because it's not the time yet.

“God, Y/N.” He breathes out with a chuckle and you reciprocate it, kissing his mouth once more before deflating against the soft carpet under you.

“I know,” you look at him, at his fucked out expression and the cute way he kisses the hand you use to wipe the sweat out of his face makes you feel giddy and in love, even if you know you're aren't in love with him yet “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.”

Laughing, he nods in agreement “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.”

He kisses you again and then pulls out, making a quick work on the condom and asking for the bathroom so he can dispose of it before making his way back to you.

When he does, you're already sitting down, still naked, but sipping at your forgotten water bottle. Sitting down next to you, he places a kiss on top of your head.

The carpet is definitely going to use some cleaning after tonight, but that's okay.

There's a bit of comfortable silence as you both recover from the amazing sex you just had. He takes a sip of your water bottle as well and then there's another thunder that shakes your window and all, making you both jump a little.

Seonghwa “Do you… Mind if I stay over?”

You snort “I wasn't planning on letting you go anywhere, Ghost.”

He smiles, getting close to your face again “Even if it stops raining?”

You nod, pecking his lips “Even if I have to go and clean up my room just for you.”

“Oh, wow,” he whistles loud and you push him in feign annoyance, looking around for your underwear “You like me, like me.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

He attempts to hug you but you push him away again and stand up, making a quick job of putting your panties back on “Say that you like me and I'll let you kidnap me if you want.”

“That's not how kidnapping works, idiot.”

He gets up as well, taking his underwear and putting it on as he follows you around your apartment.

You quicken your step, but he catches you right as you enter the mess in your bedroom. He hugs you tight, you back against his bare chest and his chin on your shoulder a second later “I'll honestly let you keep me even if you say you hate me, Y/N.”

Is sweet and it should make you cringe but you all but melt against his touch. There's no really a need to tell him you like him when you place his hand on top of your chest so he can take in the way your heart beats for him for the second time tonight.

“Good,” you turn a little, smiling at him and then turning to your room again “Do you want to help me clean this up just to make it messy again?”

“Y/N!”

Seonghwa doesn't help you clean your room. He, in fact, makes it a lot messier as soon as you two get into bed and when he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he can be by your side every night.

The only thing that disturbs his sweet dreams is the way you squirm in his hold and he can't quite place the reason for it until he hears the loud, banging alarm ringtone he has set at six thirty so he can get ready for work.

Murmuring and still half asleep, you slap his chest so he can tend to it “Turn it off, Ghost.”

He does and he checks the time and the screen of his phone to find a message from his boss. It reads something about taking the opportunity to take the rainy day and work from home or something like that and Seonghwa can confirm, looking through your bedroom window, that the rain falls softly against it still.

He smiles, grateful to have his laptop with him so he can work on his report if you decide not to kick him out first thing in the morning, and then rolls back to you so he can cuddle you and sleep in for the first time in months of commuting to the office.

Then his phone rings again.

Both of you groan at the sound and you sit up, the big t-shirt you put on after taking a shower gathering messily around your waist and he almost forgets about the call at the sight of you.

You're so beautiful.

“Pick it up and tell them to go fuck themselves for calling you so early. What the fuck.”

He smiles “Bossy.”

“You like it.” You say, smiling back and falling on top of him as he answers the call from an unknown number, your cheek resting on his chest.

He makes sure his voice sounds extra sleepy when he does “Hello?”

“Good morning, mister Park!” It's a woman on the line, a voice he recognizes but can't quite place yet “I'm sorry to wake you up, but yesterday you asked me what good you're to me… Guess what? You can find out today!”

She sounds sarcastic and tired and like she drank seventy energy drinks to stay awake. Seonghwa scavenges his brain until the memory hits him “Miss Kim?”

You look up at that, curious.

“The one and only. Now, tonight you will accompany me to a party and—”

“Miss Kim—”

“I'm not finished,” you cuts him off, annoyed “At the party, I need you to pretend to be my boyfri—”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I will not go to the party with you and no, I will not pretend to be your boyfriend.”

Now, you sit up on the bed again and frown at him. He shrugs and sits up as well.

“This could be a really great opportunity for you to gain connections and—”

“Miss Kim,” he starts and, after taking in the sudden desperation on her voice, he sighs “I'm flattered you have taken me into consideration for this… Particular, uhm, job?” He offers, feeling awkward as hell “But my day is taken and I'm not single anymore, so I can't do it.”

He watches you as you break into a little knowing smile and he smiles back, not even the disappointed sigh Miss Kim lets out on the other side of the line can break him away from the spell you so easily put him under.

“This is very inconvenient for me but I hope you and the cool girl I saw yesterday are happy together… Even if it ruins my happiness forever!” She sounds like she doesn't really mean the last part but it's trying hard to make it seem like she does “God… Ugh. Don't mention this to my brother and please cover that stupid tree up, okay? Goodbye.”

She hangs up before he even gets the chance of saying goodbye or asking if she'll be okay. He has friends who wouldn't pass the opportunity to fake a relationship and go to a party, anyway.

“So,” you start, getting on your knees and making your way back to him “What the fuck was that?”

He reaches for your waist without really thinking about it, like he's been doing it his whole life and you sit on his lap like this is a morning routine you two crafted with years of experience.

“I don't really know. Remember my client's sister?” you nod “She wanted me to be her fake boyfriend at a party tonight, I think.”

“And you told her you're not single anymore to save face because you didn't want to go?”

“I told her I wasn't single because I'm not,” he says, honestly “Even if you're not my girlfriend right now… I don't really want to see anyone else but you, so…”

You fake a gasp and he rolls his eyes, smiling like an idiot when you lean in to leave a peck on his lips “And I was about to kick you out ten minutes ago!”

Pouting, he holds you tighter “Why?”

“That stupid alarm almost made me.”

“I turned it off!”

You laugh at the way he pretends to be offended and you're about to say something else before his phone starts ringing like crazy.

It's not a call, it's a message notification.

He turns to it and sees that Yunho is spamming the group chat with emojis.

“Oh, God,” he sighs “What now?”

“Is that your friend from yesterday?”

“Mhm.”

When Seonghwa scrolls to the messages to find something that can indicate what the hell is going on, he reads something a little alarming.

Does anyone want to skip town tonight?

He blocks the phone and tosses it into the bed, turning to your worried form with a smile “Do you want to meet my friends tonight?”

You seem to get it immediately.

“I would love to, Ghost,” you lean in to kiss him again, softly “Only if you introduce me as your girlfriend and not your mechanic, though.”

Heart beating with a wonderful song, he agrees with soft yes and kisses you dumb for the first time today.

He almost misses the deadline for his report, too.

It's not really his fault that he can't get enough of you.

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

452 notes · View notes

seredelgi · 4 months

Text

COME BACK TO ME

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader, Toxic! Eren Jaeger x Fem! Reader, Eren Jaeger x You, Modern!Eren Jaeger x Reader, Dom!Eren Jaeger x Sub!Reader

summary: Not completely satisfied with her sex life and anxious about the impending day of her wedding, reader turns back to Eren, her ex, to get what she misses from her fiancee.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: toxic!eren, toxic!reader, toxic relationship in general, smut, sex, vaginal sex, breeding kink, choking, cheating, as in reader cheats on her fiancee with eren, profanity, mild degradation, kind of angsty too, dirty talk, raw sex, light dom! sub! undertones, edging, nipple play, modern au

word count: 3.6k

tags: @anniemika @vlsquuu

a/n: I'm usually not that much of an Eren simp but he honestly fits the toxic ex-boyfriend trope too well, so here. This is really the scrappiest scrap ever but yeah, enjoy. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. English is not my first language so forgive any mistakes.

You love your boyfriend. You really do.

There's no denying that when he proposed you felt kind of nervous about the idea of spending a lifetime with him, but that's no reason to doubt how much you love him.

He's sweet, he's caring, and most definitely very handsome. " He's quite a catch" your friends constantly like to remind you "Such a step up from that clown you were so down bad for"

Eren Jaeger.

Your girlfriends couldn't stand the guy. And honestly, how could you blame them? He's not been the best partner to you during your time together.

He was obnoxiously self-centered and way too jealous.

You were together a year, but you put up with his shit that long simply because he had one of those annoyingly difficult-to-replace redeeming qualities.

Boy, was Eren good at sex.

Your now fiancee is good too, but that's no match for the way Eren could make you feel back in the day.

And you know it is no excuse for what you did. It doesn't matter how nervous or weirded out you have been about the impending approach of your big day, you shouldn't have called him. You shouldn't have needed to hear his voice so bad, and most definitely shouldn't have hoped for him to invite you over to his apartment, sounding way too smug already in doing so over the phone.

But you can't help it, it's just the effect he has on you. You lose all common sense when it comes to him. He's intoxicating, and that, unfortunately, is part of his damn charm.

However, it is quite difficult to regret any of those decisions right now, sweaty and spread underneath him, taking him deep enough to leave you out of breath.

He's not been able to wipe that stupid grin off his face since he opened the door and met your big eyes, languid already with the denial of how much you missed him.

It's always been like that with him. You got carried away by the nostalgia, you felt the suffocating need to see him again, and then felt ready to bolt the second you were met with his piercing green gaze again.

He hadn't let you, of course.

He took hold of your wrist as soon as you turned around to escape from him. He'll be damned if he won't get his hands on you, after months of pointless abstinence.

He's never properly digested your break-up. He'd let you go reluctantly, but still messaged you, still lingered in your life like a ghost.

It didn't help that you'd continued living in the same neighborhood as him for a while after you two had split.

If you had to be honest, that was the very reason why you hadn't been able to be completely faithful to your new man in the first few months of your relationship. You happened to run into Eren a few times too many, giving in way too easily to his rumblings about how he was sorry, that he should've treated you better.

Well, it's too late now, you had found yourself saying, only to end up getting railed by him anyway.

Who were you kidding? You were too damn weak to resist him.

It only happened twice, and you felt so bad about it that you decided to move from the area as soon as things with your boyfriend seemed to take a good turn.

Eren didn't take it very well.

He called you insistently and left you so many messages that you had to block him on pretty much any social media. But he still reached out to you, one way or another, through some of his friends. He didn't have them write anything to you directly, but they always looked at your stories and your posts and you were positive they reported everything back to him.

That's why you're sure he knew you were engaged when he answered your call that very day.

He just didn't care.

Part of you knows you should despise him for it, that the fact that he invited you over anyway doesn't speak highly of him. However, that's exactly why you called him. You knew he wouldn't give a damn about your approaching wedding. If anything, he'd turn this into yet another stroke at his pride, yet another thing to hold you by the neck with.

And that's what he's doing now while burying himself into you. He wraps his hand around your neck and slaps against your ass so hard that all you can hear is the sound of your pussy milking his length and his rasping puffs of pleasure.

Man, you've missed this.

There's nothing quite like the way he makes you feel.

You're not sure what it is about him, and it's not like you don't get fucked properly by your fiancee. There's something about sex with Eren tho, that simply drives you wild. Maybe it's in the fervency of his touch, so eager to elicit a response that it often ends up ravaging you insatiably. It's like he needs you to like it.

It almost makes you wonder how on earth could you have let all of this go.

But then he brushes the strands of your damp hair off your face and whispers to you:

" Couldn't stay away from it, huh?" his breaths are heavy, and their warmth sinks into your skin like sin itself " Missed me that much?"

You can't help rolling your eyes at that. Whether or not his nonsense ranting is the only reason for it, only you know.

You dip your nails into the flexing muscles of his back and whine so loud into the otherwise quietness of his room that you're sure the whole building has heard that. He must've had the same thought too, because he snickers cockily back at you.

You hate to be so easy to break for him, but there's no helping it, and you can't stop your pitiful whining from pouring out anyway.

" Use your words, princess" he drags out, his hold on your neck tightening " Can he make you feel this good?"

You shouldn't humor him, shouldn't let him know the shameful truth of intimacy with your man, but how can you lie to him now that he's smacking so hard against you that you barely remember your name?

No way any of the men you've had in your life could even come close. And even if reluctant, some part of you needs for him to know.

" Nu-uh, Ere-hn" his name comes out amid quiet pathetic whimpers and he basks gloriously in them, pretty much drunk on the sight of your pleasure.

" Fucking knew it" you can hear his groans reverberating through you, shaking you up from within and making you shiver all over.

You're not prepared for the suddenness of his touch when his thumb comes to rest upon your already throbbing clit, applying the right amount of pressure where you've been aching for it, and you exhale a deep long moan that makes him chuckle and dive onto your neck, to pepper it with kisses and gentle bites.

You're already so close, but if you know him well enough he won't let you off the hook that easily.

" Look at you all dumbed down on my dick" the hand of his that had kept you in a chokehold up until then comes to brush down your lips, parting them sweetly as he looks into your half-lidded eyes " What'd he say if he saw you like this?"

You want to tell him to shut up, that you're not here to boost his ego a few sizes. However, you find compelling the way spite is turning him ravenous on you. And as he skates down your skin to squeeze your breasts you catch your breath, bracing.

He knows how much you like nipple play, something you've been missing lately. Your soon-to-be husband indulges in it, but he's way too gentle for your tastes, and even if you've reassured him that he can go hard on you, that you can take it, he just can't bring himself to.

Eren tho, is a whole other matter.

He brushes them lightly, teasing you, making you shiver from expectation. Your chest swells up to chase the warmth you can feel radiating from his hand, demanding it on you. It's like you're a puppet, dancing around at any pull of his at your strings.

You're dipping your teeth into your bottom lip so hard that you fear you'll cut it, but when he finally pinches you, you free a shrill sob of satisfaction. Pain curses through you like an injection drug, it haunts at those corners of your mind that had been, until then, still reticent to the heat of his touch.

He still knows you so well you can't help but melt into it now, tho.

" Still fancy this, darling?" he twists your right nipple in between his fingertips, toying with it, having you arch your back as a jolt of pleasure runs through your nerves to come pulse in your swelling clit. The little nub is desperately throbbing for him to speed up the pace that his thumb has been reserving it.

You nod enthusiastically, buckling your hips against his, eliciting the kind of hiss from him that reminds you how even though he likes to play dominant, he's just about as much at your mercy as you are at his.

" Shit- Easy, babe" his voice is croaked with arousal, this time around he's pleasantly taken aback by how receptive you still are to what he used to do to you " 'gonna have me nut into you like that"

You bite your bottom lip harshly at that, trying to refrain from letting him know just how much you would actually love that. You can't let a guy like him know. He'd attempt to knock you up in an instant, probably seeing it as the perfect opportunity to claim you back.

And even if there's no chance he could manage, you still don't wanna give him the satisfaction.

His thumb is still grazing lazy circles around your sweet spot, giving you enough to leave you impatiently waiting on the edge, craving your release so bad that you utter a little "please Eren" against his lips. Lips that are hovering way too close to be able to keep resisting them, and they look so good that you almost feel compelled to kiss him.

But you can't.

It would make this too sentimental, too real for you to able to take it.

" Please what?"

He's wicked, but hell, do you like it.

You hear the sound of your juices mixing with his as he stretches you out, a thin line of drool silently streaming down your chin, giving him yet another reason to smirk to himself proudly.

" Please Eren, make me 'cum, please"

Begging him for it has always proved to be effective in getting what you want. He usually felt spurred enough by it to give in immediately. Plus, you've always secretly loved that, too.

This time around it doesn't seem to be enough, tho.

" See, I'm not sure you deserve that, darling" his pace has become unabating, it's starting to sore you, it's starting to make you regret coming here in the first place, especially when he just won't let you have what you want " You were very bad to me, weren't you?"

Nuh-uh.

But you nod anyway.

And that's about the extent of the amount of power he has over you.

You're able to leave him and stop thinking about him, able to start a new life and date other men, able to accept a marriage proposal, even. But the second he's got you, you're not capable of denying him anything.

You're completely at his mercy.

" 'm-hm sorry" you keen, and see a genuine sparkle of surprise arise in his eyes at that, the quivering sense of loss he must've felt the day you deserted him still hidden in there, twinkling like a treasure he just won't surrender.

If there's something you know for certain, if there's anything you'd bet your life on is that he loves you. Sure, it's in that sick, toxic way of his that just about makes you twist your guts and ache for him at the same time. But he does nonetheless, and you've never doubted that.

There's definitive proof of it in the softening of his tone the second you apologize to him.

" Then leave him baby" he's breathless as he begs you, he kisses your lips and you can't deny him, even reveling at the contact, having craved it so bad that it almost hurts. It heightens your senses and makes you hungry for more.

You've missed it a lot, maybe more than you had the rest of it.

With him, it was always so needy. A desperate clashing of teeth and avid chasing of tongues, always wrapped in moans as he selfishly pulls you in. It is so intense that you'd dreamed about it for nights after you had ultimately decided to break up with him.

" Come back to me" whispered in between harsh puffs and meetings of lips " You know you want to, 'can feel it in the way you squeeze me"

Damn, he's so close to cracking you that it's almost scary.

" Can't let me go" chants and prayers of his just add up to the increasing intensity of his pressure on your clit, bringing you so close that literal tears stream down your cheeks, and somehow you know it's not just because of the gut-wrenching need to orgasm.

You just hate that he's right, and it hurts so much, even in the midst of all the pleasure you're feeling.

" You're still mine" fervid kisses cover the skin of your neck, humid little reminders of what you feel for him, and then you feel the fluttering of your walls welcoming the long-awaited approach of your climax.

He can feel it too, because he steadies his movements, and his eyes are trained on your features as you turn to jelly underneath him, incoherent pleads ecaping silently past your lips.

" Like that, yeah" you can hear him only dazily in the background of your pleasure as you shudder against him, and then you feel his lips claiming yours back, giving you no time at all to even catch your breath. He flicks his tongue in your mouth as you cry into him, and it's just the most excruciating kind of evidence that what he's said is all true.

You are his, and you always will be.

And it makes it all the more agonizing that you cannot be.

It's not long before he tears away way from you, his thrusts suddenly sloppier, his breaths ragged and uneven, and he looks at you, still weakly trembling underneath him, looking positively worn out.

That's how he likes you. Satisfied by him, and only him.

" Fuck- Gotta pull out, baby"

You flinch instinctively at that, your legs crossing behind his back, thighs clenching desperately at his hips, and you know you wouldn't do this if you weren't so high on him.

However you're still hazed from the aftermath of your pleasure, and you so don't want him to part from you.

He looks down at you, confounded.

" Don't you play with me babygirl" he threatens, his breaths so short you can feel he's holding on for dear life, waiting for a confirmation that you do in fact want him to nut inside of you " You know I'll do it"

The idea is appealing, and you recall that's something that you two have always played with in the past.

Back when you were together he'd told you to get off the pill, that he was very much capable of pulling out in time when necessary, when really, he just loved the risk. He got off on the idea that he could knock you up at any moment, his only restraint the one of his will.

It should've felt scary, to give him full control on something like that, but he'd always behaved.

It was a game, and it really did a trick on him. It makes him shiver even right now, against the sudden softness you reserve him as your fingers run through his long brown hair. He tilts his head back and hums, chasing your touch as if starved for it.

" Wanna feel you 'cum inside of me" you whisper in his ear, and his eyes roll back, his unchecked growl making you whimper against him when his hand closes around your throat again, shoving you back on the mattress. And then he starts railing into you with renewed intensity, your head bobbing up and down with his thrusts, and it feels like absolute heaven.

" So fucking desperate for it" it seems like your request has relieved his stamina, and you resume your moaning when his other hand comes to grip your hip to keep you steady, his fingers dipping into your meat so hard you close your eyes shut " -haven't changed a bit"

You feel the awakening of a new need, and you chase after it as you can feel him do with his, his cock piercing through you and hitting your cervix with every single snap of his hips into yours.

" Eren" you let out so quietly that he almost misses it, but when he feels you convulsing around him again, your pussy shamelessly sucking him in, he can't take it anymore. He 'cums with a deep grunt and spills all his warm seed into you, staining your walls and marking you down with his teeth buried in the curve of your neck.

You're so high on it that it barely registers, the way he's sucking on your skin greedily, how whatever he's imprinting on it will have to be covered with make-up before you go back home.

When he's done you're still puffing and tamely shaking, a sweaty mess, holding onto him to try and regain a shred of your lost composure.

He's got you good this time around. You didn't expect to come twice, not being used to it anymore.

His pants are thick and hot against your skin, and when he's finally able to better control them he levers himself up to look at you.

" Fuck, I hope I got you pregnant" he smirks wickedly.

You know it shouldn't, but your heart skips a beat when he confesses that to you.

You shake your head feebly and huff contently, you'd missed the feeling of satisfaction that good sex leaves you soaking into.

" I'm on the pill"

He frowns and slips out of you, evident disappointment washing over him.

" Ow, now that's no fun"

You sigh and look at him as he lays beside you, his cock still half-hard and glistening with the remains of your juices.

" See, that's why we can't be together"

He turns to look at you at that, this time around a hint of hurt clouds his green eyes, asking for you to explain yourself.

" Having a baby is not supposed to be fun" you say then.

" Says who?" he retorts promptly, " Damn y/n, that's one depressing way to look at life"

No use arguing with him, you two are just too different. And that's why you get up, the feeling of his 'cum leaking out from you and streaming down your thighs quietly stirring up your not-yet-silent arousal.

You can't lie to yourself. It had felt good to feel him empty himself into you.

Right is the best word that comes to mind.

But it isn't right.

And the disconcerting truth of it is, that no matter how inebriating in the making, Eren Jaeger is a threat to everything you've come to hold dear.

" I gotta go" you mutter before the sight of him laying comfortably on his bed like that could arise in you the need to cuddle up to him and sleep it off.

You can't let yourself, nor him, delude into that fantasy.

" So that's it?" he lets out, one of his hands behind his back, his muscles flexing and his eyes appraising the view of you getting rid of his 'cum with a napkin you'd hurriedly gathered from your purse.

You sure as hell cannot fathom the possibility of showering at his place, it is way too dangerous of an idea, even if very appealing.

You stay silent, unable to conjure anything that could sound remotely appropriate at a moment like this.

" You gonna hit me up again when you'll realize he's not enough for you"

His words sound resolute and resigned, and they hang over the room like venom as you look at him, baffled.

He's calm and collected, even if his eyes betray a hint of dejection that he would never let anyone else ever catch onto. But they're unwavering as if he can predict your future to be intertwined with his.

How can he even stand to feel like that?

How can you?

You gather your things and go for the door, before he could turn even meaner, before he would show his true colors.

" Give Reiner my best, would 'ya?"

You stop short when you hear your fiancee's name. Your heartbeats racing, your breaths quickening at the realization that you had been right.

He'd been watching silently this whole time.

A chill runs up your spine as you close the door to his apartment shut behind you, and you swear to yourself, that no matter how tempting, you'll never give in to the need to see him ever again.

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