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starseungs · 1 month

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take a shot. ksm.

kim seungmin x fem!reader — it really shouldn't take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn't get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

genre/s — drama, angst, fluff, a sprinkle of comedy, actors au, enemies to lovers, slowburn • 19.4k words

warning/s — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, profanity, implied death taken lightly (humor purposes), miscommunication to too much communication, y/n easily gets into a bad headspace, inaccurate depictions of filming a movie, the angst is strong = the fluff is strong, other idols are mentioned as characters along with skz members, mentions of alcohol in a scene

note — my longest fic yet !! it also took me so long to finish this (like three weeks i believe) and there were some struggles that happened in the making of this, but it turned out to be my most favorite work ive done ever. thank you for the people who patiently waited for this since the teaser, and remember that reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 🫶 i hope you enjoy the read !!

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

00 : ZERO.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The car remained silent despite your words of confusion. You felt as though your world had come to an extreme halt, giving you a whiplash as the buzz of the road outside continued to pierce through your ears. There was nothing else to keep your mind away from the absolute bomb of news that was just given to you; your manager had turned it down before uttering the horrid sentence that brought your untimely demise.

The car may have kept on with its task of moving forward—but you were stuck frozen in place.

“You’re joking.”

Your world fell on seemingly deaf ears. The man up front, steering the wheel, rendered himself mute to your growing distress, finding the busy traffic of city life interesting enough to keep his eyes glued. But the urban chaos didn’t distract you one bit from brewing a storm of gunpowder inside your throat.

And just like that, a ghost of a click was heard.

“No—please tell me you’re joking,” you voiced out, tone betraying your attempts at keeping things respectful. It soon came to your attention that the effort was of no use, as your manager still chose to keep his peace. “Changbin!”

The car swiveled a bit off-lane for a second before returning to its correct course. Normally, such an abrupt action by a vehicle would concern you, as you would argue that you were still much too young to suffer at the hands of a road accident, but no such thoughts even made their way into your brain. Just like how time had stopped for you, there was no time for debating over survival either. One life-or-death situation was already enough for you.

You wanted answers, and you were going to get them.

Changbin exhaled audibly from the scare he just put both of you through. His hands shook with a slight tremor, and that was all it took for him to decide that pulling over to the nearest parking area was for the best.

“Don’t yell in the car like that!” You scoffed at his scolding, finding the whole situation ironic.

“Oh, so you can do it all the time, but I can’t?” You shot back. Changbin sighed tiredly, finally registering the extent of your agitation. "Plus, I have a perfectly good reason why I’m yelling!”

“Listen, Y/N, it’s really not that bad—”

“Yes, it is that bad!” The words spill out of your mouth in utter disbelief at his attempts at assurance. “I’m working with Kim Seungmin, of all people!”

“And that’s why it’d be fine!” Changbin argued, running a hand through his already tousled hair. You blinked at his reply, baffled by the sheer implication.

“—How?”

Changbin clicked his tongue at the question, finding it hard to digest just why you were so against working with the mentioned actor. With the mere sound of that actor’s name spat out of your mouth, one would think that he had somehow managed to offend your entire bloodline. But that kind of bitterness could only be achieved through a sour history, so you really couldn’t empathize with your manager’s mindset either.

Even you knew that this movie would be enormously successful from the director alone. Director Han Jisung’s influence and presence in the industry were not a laughing matter—in fact, you should already be trembling in anxiety just knowing that you snagged probably the biggest role you’d ever get in your whole career. He was only around the same age as you, but the winding list of his achievements was already one for the records. And yet, here you were rethinking your contract with him even before the project started.

Just because of who you were going to be acting alongside with.

“Seungmin is a nice person,” Changbin explained gently like he was coaxing a child, intentionally ignoring the way your face scrunched up at what he said. “I did my research, ok? Everyone only has high praises for him, both on and off-set. Isn’t that enough to be trusted?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from digging a deeper hole to lie in. The answer was no—it wasn’t enough to be trusted. Now, at this point, someone would’ve had half a mind to ask why you were so sure about your vendetta against the man. If a person was so well loved in a world where cameras were pointed at them in every waking minute, then shouldn’t all the dirt be found by now, if there was any?

To that, your answer would be yet another no.

Because you knew Kim Seungmin. You knew how life functioned despite the cameras. And you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

“Turn the car around.”

Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at your demand. Surely, he had heard you now. You crossed your arms and leaned back to rest comfortably on the car seat, turning your head to face the window and glare at the world outside, continuing on with their lives like a well-followed routine.

“Y/N, this is a big opportunity—”

“I said, turn the car around. I’m not attending this cursed table reading.” You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep the incoming migraine at bay.

“You really think I’ll willingly step into a room with the devil’s incarnate? I’d rather get shot—”

01 : ONE.

“—sensing a great shot!”

Director Han Jisung nodded positively at your performance, satisfied with your initial portrayal of the female lead.

“If we keep going like this, then I’m expecting this project to be a big hit. The casting team really did their pay’s worth on this one,” the young director hummed. “Especially you, Actor Kim Seungmin. I don’t know how they managed to get through your company's walls, but I’m glad they did. You’re perfect for the role!”

You felt your eye twitch as the figure bearing the name appeared within your vision. His mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk, hastily covered up by a bashful smile. You cringed at his actions that only you seemed to see. Why was this prick acting all humble?

“Ah, I always wanted to act in one of your films, Director Han. This is more of an amazing opportunity for me than you, honestly.”

That smoothed honey voice wrapped itself around the room’s premise, charming everyone around like it was coming from an alluring siren. All except you.

Your mouth filled with a coating of spite as his next sentence echoed through your ears. His eyes locked you in as a target, a wordless challenge shooting straight at your own.

“Plus, seeing who my co-star is, I’m quite thrilled to see the end product,” Seungmin grinned with a manic glint.

Fuck. You should’ve turned that damned car around yourself. Maybe then you’d be enjoying a relaxing time in the tub, surrounded by bubbling suds of fragrant soap, instead of being a frontliner in this mental war your acting counterpart seemed to subject yourselves to. Now, you had to withstand the feeling of your body instantly going on auto-pilot after his words.

It was commendable, really—how Seungmin could take over a space of this size filled with various types of people so easily. He had major talent in that field, which greatly accentuated his acting power. Seungmin had a way with words, and while you would never be caught praising him out loud, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth deep inside the darkest parts of your brain. It was almost obsessive, the way your mind zeroed in on his presence. Even as you let the busy table chatter away into a buzzing noise that barely made its way coherently through your ears, your eyes stayed glued to the figure in front of you, carefully studying his mannerisms as he enthusiastically interacted with everyone. You weren’t someone who Seungmin’s charms would work on—instead, you felt like prey, waiting to be pounced on any second now.

Before you knew it, the table reading came to a close. You could faintly remember standing and packing your things quietly, more focused on the sudden stinging feeling you felt coming from your eyes, already threatening to water. “This is ridiculous,” you huffed in frustration. Why did you feel the need to cry like a child at this very moment?

“With the way your script is being shoved in that tiny bag, yeah, I would say that too.”

“Leave me alone, Kim.”

You hear him chuckle, causing your grip on your leather bag’s opening to become tighter, feeling the metal zipper bite at your palm. “There’s a lot of Kims here, Y/N. Be careful now; they might mistake you for being rude to them,” he chirps. Fucking chirps. Like a small bird who deserves to be doted on. Except the man before you was neither small nor deserved to be doted on—Kim Seungmin would never be described in any of those words in your world.

“Right. Since they’re also talking to me right now,” you scoffed back. Thankfully, that seemed to keep the tears at bay for now. You refused to break down in front of the most infuriating man in your life.

“Still stuck up as ever,” he sighs. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at his comment. You? Stuck up? If anything, that would be him! “This would be our first piece together after that charity drama our acting academy did way back a few years ago, so would it kill you to be civil?”

Ah. There it was. The infamous acting academy.

JYP Academy of Theatrics was admittedly one of the most successful acting academies in the country, known for producing many big name acts throughout its years of operation. Every aspiring actor has probably gone through the phase of wanting to be part of the academy’s carefully limited population of trainees—you included.

You remember the first time you brought up your plans on becoming an actress to your parents; their apprehensive faces telling you to try going to an acting academy first before giving up everything and running towards your dream blind. Young you didn’t realize the underlying implication that your parents were expecting you to be discouraged and give up on your thoughts of becoming an actress for good. Instead, you aimed high with the thoughts of their support, confidently applying for JYP Academy.

To your parents’ surprise, you passed both rounds of the screening, becoming a full-fledged acting academy trainee at one of the most prestigious places for it. It was also where you met the thorn in your life that was standing before you at the present.

“And frankly, I’m looking forward to this. So can we not ruin the mood on set?” He had the nerve to add. That was all you needed for your last string of restraint to snap.

“Why? So you could enjoy the power trip of watching me fumble around like a headless chicken after getting scolded a thousand times for my horrible acting skills?”

“What?”

You watched as Seungmin’s face morphed from exhaustion into a look of confusion at what you had just said. However, you knew better than to give him the benefit of the doubt—so you continued to shoot your bullets at him.

“I know you, Kim Seungmin,” you motioned towards him. “Don’t you dare think I’ve forgotten your days at the acting academy, especially that damned charity drama. But consider yourself lucky, since I won’t drag your ass down this time, Golden Boy. In fact, watch me shine on set even if it’s against your will or whatever is going on in that ego of yours, because I refuse to bow down to you. Things may have been different seven years ago, but I’ve grown since then. So if you want to prove to me that you have to, then know how to keep your mouth to yourself around me.”

After your little round of firing the pent-up rage inside of you, you snatched your bag from the table and stormed out of the room without another word. You had half the mind to worry if anyone had heard your little squabble with Seungmin, but you were already too far down the hall to go back and check, risking a blow to your conscience if ever you tried to go back. You only had the fact that you had managed to keep your voice surprisingly low throughout the whole exchange to console you.

With this, you continued your trek towards the parking lot to meet your manager once again—blissfully unaware of the state in which you left your co-star back in the room.

“What the fuck just happened?”

It took everything in Seungmin to not march after you and demand an explanation for what you had just said to him. In all honesty, Seungmin was baffled. Out of all the possible scenarios he had imagined to happen when meeting you, this was definitely not one of them. Sure, you two weren’t exactly the best of friends way back in your academy years, but he had at least considered you an acquaintance.

Even then, he didn’t remember your relationship being this bad. For all the times the both of you clashed heads, he couldn’t recall a single time serious bad blood was developed. The memory of you laughing joyfully as he messed up a line in your shared scene together on a monthly evaluation was still fresh in his memories—so just where did this hostility come from? If he were to base his conclusion off your words earlier, then it must have something to do with the charity drama, and that only made Seungmin more lost.

What you said earlier did hold some truth to them—you were scolded a lot by their advisor, slash project director, but in no way did you do badly in the production. Seungmin could testify to that. After all, he was witness to the amount of praise you got from fellow trainees as they watched you act out your scenes on camera, even though his younger counterpart was jealous of all the positive feedback. So now, he really couldn’t understand where your deep-rooted bitterness towards him came from. He even gave you some tips during the times you seemingly struggled with their advisor’s vision!

“Seungmin?”

He turned over to where his name was just called, seeing his manager approach him while bowing politely towards the small number of production staff left in the room. “Oh, did I take too long, Minho?”

“Yeah, but it’s alright. I knew you were going to catch up with a friend,” Minho looked around for a bit before continuing, “Speaking of which, did she go already?” Seungmin couldn’t stop himself from clicking his tongue at his manager’s words.

“It’s a long story.”

Well, two can play that game. If you truly knew him like you said you did, then you would know that Kim Seungmin isn’t one to give up when he sets his mind to something.

02 : TWO.

You wanted to give up right at this very moment.

Today was the first day of filming for the movie you were cast in as the female lead, yet here you were, one push away from having a mental breakdown. It was your first lead role—one that you had wished on countless stars to get ever since signing a contract with your current agency. Yet, now that you actually have it, you were left unsure of whether your acting could do proper justice to the character given to you. The confidence you flared towards Kim Seungmin a few days ago was nowhere to be found right now as anxious thoughts swirled through your head instead.

When you first read the script as one of your manager’s proposals for your next project, you instantly felt like the female lead’s role spoke to you the most. The plot itself was a masterpiece, clearly right up Director Han’s alley with its sentimental undertone and themes of self-discovery. It followed the male lead, returning back to his hometown for a high school reunion after just deciding to quit his job at a well-known corporation in the city. At the reunion, he meets the female lead, whom he remembers having the biggest crush on back in his teenage years—before he moved to the city for college.

In comparison, the female lead never left their homey countryside town. She attended the nearby community college and also settled her adult life in the same area. However, that didn’t mean that what she had achieved was all she wanted to do in life. Like everyone else, she too, had her own dreams. Unfortunately, she lacked confidence in herself to chase opportunities and got stuck right where her starting line was.

And in a way, she spoke to you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps you regret running your mouth like that at your co-star during the table read. It was a moment of weakness, you tried to tell yourself. Emotional you talked too big for what you could handle, so now you were left here to deal with the consequences of your actions.

But lies had their truths too.

It was true that you wanted to shine on set—outshining Kim Seungmin was just an added bonus to the thought. You’ve spent far too long in others’ shadows, never really feeling like you had the chance to show your fullest potential. That was something you fought for constantly, starting from your days at the academy up until the present, only to have no such luck. Maybe that was why you developed a habit of becoming pessimistic at the worst times, becoming your own enemy as you fall into a pit of self-sabotage, effectively going against everything you’ve ever wished for yourself. It was a cycle of keeping yourself confused with your own decisions, and it was a frustrating process.

You could only stare from the actors’ corner on the site as you watched the crew members run around making final arrangements for today’s shoot. Normally, you wouldn’t have seen this part of the process, as actors would often arrive later on when everything was nearly set, during their actual call time. You just intentionally went early, deciding that you weren’t going to get any more sleep even if you tried, seeing as most of the previous night was spent trying to make sure you had your lines all perfected. Sleep came rough yesterday, and you had no one else to blame but your own nerves.

At least the set looked great—today you were filming all the scenes needed for the high school reunion. The place was this quaint function hall in a small town about seven hours from the capital city, the same town you would be staying in to shoot for a little less than a week. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the new environment contributed more towards your slowly diminishing confidence, feeling yourself too far away from the strong presence of individualistic urban life. A defeated sigh was all you could do in attempt to ease yourself, even the slightest.

“I’m beginning to think this is going to become a pattern,” you hear a familiar toned voice comment. “Meeting you distressed, I mean.”

You spare the figure a half-hearted glance before rolling your eyes, forcing out an appropriate greeting. Or what was appropriate in your books, anyway.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Seungmin’s face displayed his feelings of amusement, which in turn made your frown deepen. “Not even a good afternoon? That’s harsh of you, Y/N,” he says in a tone made for mockery. “You really don’t like seeing my face, huh?”

“More like, I just don’t like you, period,” you grumbled in annoyance. “Also, why are you even here this early?”

Your surprise at his punctuality was real; you were not expecting to see him on set three hours early. But maybe you should have foreseen this behavior, seeing as the Seungmin you knew back then was also one to be on time during all lessons, activities, and practices. A part of you was then thankful for the question coming off as general because if you added any more comparisons, it would’ve seemed like you held on to too much information on him from the past.

“Just because I’m the main character doesn’t mean I should be fashionably late. Would it tick you off to know that I like being punctual with things?”

“Yeah,” was your immediate reply, not needing to think about it any further. “Since now, I have to time myself to arrive just before the call time.”

Seungmin lets out a deep sigh at your words. “You don’t want to spend any more time with me than necessary, got it.” He says, then lifting a finger up to tap against his ear. “But you know, you should really learn to keep your plans away from enemy ears.”

You tried your best not to show the inner war that just sparked inside of your head—you really shouldn’t have found that small gesture attractive, but the romantic side in you swooned so easily against your will. And for what? Kim Seungmin, of all people? You really should tone down all the enemies-to-lovers content you were consuming, because this was the last thing you wanted to happen. Real life just doesn’t play out like that.

Giving him some slack and perhaps a half-assed attempt at reverse psychology, you replied with a tired tone. “I’ll agree with you on that one, so you may walk away now, Kim.”

Except that Seungmin didn’t seem to catch the memo.

“Says the one who keeps talking,” he snarks at you. “For someone who told me to keep my mouth to myself around you, you’re the one who keeps the conversation flowing.”

You rolled your eyes for the second time since starting this conversation. At this point, you were convinced that Kim Seungmin was on a mission to dislocate it. “You just have to win everything, do you?”

“It’s my charm, I suppose.”

“And I disagree. The only charm you have is that mouth of yours you use to manipulate everyone around you.”

That seemed to snap something within Seungmin. “What the hell did I ever do to you?” He spits out furiously. “I would’ve already sued you for defamation if you acted like this around everyone else, so you should be thankful that I’m being tolerant of your attitude right now.”

“Thankful? Why would I be thankful?” Was your baffled response. “You know, I’m starting to believe that you don’t remember what you put me through all those years ago at all, and it’s only making me more upset that you seem to hold no remorse whatsoever.”

“If it’s that bad, then go ahead and tell me!” Seungmin hissed in an attempt to keep his voice down and not cause a scene. “I don’t have time for this roundabout game you have going on, and honestly, neither should you. We have a high-profile movie to film, and I would never let whatever this is ruin the hard work of a hundred people—so get your head out of your ass and either clench your teeth and save the working environment we have or be a dear and solve this issue with me right now.”

Now you were just barely containing your rage. It was at this point that you realized that Seungmin wasn’t faking anything; and that made it sting a lot more in your already scarred heart. Of course, someone like him wouldn’t understand why you were acting like this. Someone like him, born talented enough to be loved and praised by everyone, would never see the other side that you had to be dragged through—the side that existed all because of people like him, too.

“Fuck you, Kim Seungmin,” you croaked out through tears. “I knew someone like you would never understand.”

And you ran.

“What are—Y/N! Come back here!”

03 : THREE.

“Y/N, where in the world even are you? You need to come back to the actors’ tent right now!”

Changbin’s voice boomed through your phone’s speaker a lot louder than usual, causing you to jerk it away from your ear in pain. Well, you did deserve the scolding—after running off to God knows where in a relatively remote town you didn’t even know, you would be pissed as hell too if you were your manager. What kind of actress just leaves the set without a single thought like that?

“I swear, Y/N. Do not tell me you’re lost because I’m pretty sure I left you somewhere safe the last time I saw you,” you hear Changbin huff on the opposite end. “I can’t believe you told me that you were going to be fine on your own, and I actually trusted you. That’s it! I’m not letting you wander around the set anymore from this point onwards!”

You couldn’t help but find your manager’s rant funny, despite the clear threat being held above your head. “Really? I’m telling you that it’s almost call time, and you’re just laughing. Fine, go on your own soul-searching, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’m telling everyone you left your role to go play hooky—”

Oh, you could only wish. After your little squabble with Seungmin, playing hooky didn’t sound like a bad option. Sadly, you still had a conscience that weighed on you—even more hypersensitive to the people around it with your co-star’s earlier comment of ruining other people’s hard work. You hurriedly shook your head to get rid of the negative thoughts that were starting to plague your head once again, and instead focused on the group of trees that lined the path towards the entrance of the function hall.

“Changbin, I’m fine.”

“Damn right, you should be!” He screeches one last time before calming down. “But in all seriousness, you need to head over here now, or Director Han is going to chew me a new one. He knows my sister, and I don’t want to be berated for not doing my job properly by her of all people.”

You chuckled at the competitiveness in his voice. “Don’t worry, I just took a short walk for fresh air. You know how nervous I was earlier on the way to the set.” Changbin hummed in acknowledgement.

“And on the way to this town in general,” he teases. It didn’t last long, though, since he immediately followed up on your well-being with a soft tone. “Did the walk help? I can get you some hot tea too, if you want.”

“Look at you, finally being a proper manager,” you threw back at him, snickering as offended noises started to pour out of your phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take you up on that tea offer. Plus, I’m just around the corner now.”

Once you saw his figure coming into view, you hung up the call and opted to wave your right arm to catch his attention. Changbin broke out into a frantic sprint towards you the minute he saw you approaching.

“Oh, thank whatever deity there is. You need to head over to the tent right now and—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, holding you still at arms length to give you a look of confusion as he scanned your face. “Did you cry? Why are your eyes like that?”

Shoot. You had totally forgotten about that for a second. “Ah,” was all you could muster in a sheepish daze. “It was just to let the nerves out, you know? It’s nothing serious.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at your excuse, making you hold your breath unintentionally. It felt as though you were being picked apart, trying to find the truth that you desperately wanted to keep hidden. Eventually, the man before you decided to let it be, sending you off with an exhausted wave.

“Hm. Alright, and it’s already going away, so it must’ve just been a light session. Try to blink it out more so that it’s long gone once you step in front of the cameras.”

You silently breathed out a sigh of relief. “Will do. Thanks, Changbin.”

“Stop being a sap and head over to the tent already,” he chuckles before sending you a comforting smile. “Good luck. I’ll just be here.”

A grateful look found its way onto your face as you walked briskly towards the actors’ tent. You should really treat Changbin to dinner after all of this is over, you think to yourself, putting on your game face and entering the enclosed area with a newly steeled heart.

Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type to be overly concerned with others’ business. While he wouldn’t exactly call himself an extreme individualist, he still did have an appreciation for community. You wouldn’t catch him dead in the act of trying to mingle with someone else’s issues if it had nothing to do with him. However, all that seemed to somehow fly out the window whenever it had something to do with you.

To him, you were a person qualified enough to be considered intertwined with his own life. Sure, he hadn’t seen you in person for years, but that still would never be able to erase the fact that you knew him behind the cameras. Actually, even worse.

You knew the person he was before he even took up acting as a career.

Perhaps that was why he was so bothered by the way you were acting with him recently. He doesn’t even recall ever being that hostile to someone since his high school days, and that alone terrified him. It was like he regressed back to the days of his youth whenever he interacted with you—and that did more harm than good. The younger him was full of teen angst that he wanted to bury deep inside the confines of his past, but the animosity you seemed to harbor personally against him made him wonder if he was truly missing important information from that era of you both.

So when he saw you walk into the tent with fading redness evident in your eyes, just right after your small fight with him earlier, he instantly felt a punch in his gut. In all honesty, he wasn’t aiming to make you cry—it just so happened that the spur of the moment was so intense that he spat out things he barely meant. Sure, they still stemmed from the truth of how he felt since he did want to make amends with you, but even he wants to kick himself for the way he worded things so out of pocket. His reaction to the situation was so childish that it would be easier to think he finally went insane from the busy schedules he’s been doing than believe that what he did was a conscious decision. He was supposed to be the mature one at that moment, reaching out to fix the issue.

And yet here he was, feeling like a child in front of you.

He wanted to approach you, apologize for earlier, and maybe another one for whatever stupidity his old self did that was clearly bad enough for his mind to completely block out entirely. If you were reacting this much, it had to be at least somewhat of a traumatizing experience. Seungmin doesn’t think he ever got that bad back then, but everyone had different perspectives—and yes, young him had a tendency to be a prick. He still had friends, though, and no one ever called him in to discuss his behavior, so it wasn’t like he was a bully.

Either way, he felt the need to apologize—and maybe get an apology back, but his legs wouldn’t let him. A part of him knew that if he did approach you at the moment, you might run away again, and it was almost time for the briefing. Instead, he settled on looking at you across the pop-up room, hoping that his silent sentiment was delivered.

Which it was not. At all.

If anything, it added more pressure to whatever nerves you were holding back. Seungmin’s gaze was so piercing to the point that you didn’t even need to turn and look to know that he had his eyes locked on you. What does he want from you now? Oh, right—you two would be filming your scenes together in a matter of about an hour or two. Maybe this was Seungmin’s way of telling you to get your shit together while finally respecting your wishes to be left alone. Improvement is improvement, so you’d leave him alone to do his thing too.

“All right, is everyone here?” A lean man in his mid-twenties walked in, asking everyone inside. There was another person following him, yet seemingly younger. “It seems so. If someone you know is late, just fill them in with the details later.”

The first man lifted up a thick bind of paper, which you quickly recognized as the script. “I’m sure everyone has read their copy of this. My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m the head scriptwriter for this film. Over here to my side is Yang Jeongin, my assistant. We’re here to give you a briefing on how this shoot will go for today since Director Han and Assistant Director Lee are busy with the filming crew as of the moment.”

So they were the ones behind the script. You felt your excitement levels increase as various questions about the story’s making filled your head—but you would save that for another day. Perhaps during the crew dinner after the movie’s filming was completed.

“Today, we’ll be filming one of the first scenes in the movie—the reunion. That’s why there’s a lot of you are here right now, despite the story only really having a few recurring characters. Still, whatever your role is, I hope you take this opportunity with pride. All of you here will be treated as actors for as long as you stand on this set, so have the dignity of one. Whether you have lines or not, what I expect from all of you is your best, and only your best,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang emphasized.

The briefing continued on with the necessary information for the reunion scene, with detailed clarifications and stage directions. If you weren’t locked in on all the information being fed to you, you would’ve had half the mind to acknowledge how strikingly handsome the man was upfront. A few others did, though, and you couldn’t really blame them. The guy could be an actor himself if he wanted to be.

“And I believe that’s all for now,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Hair and makeup will take care of you all for about an hour and a half. I see that some of you already came prepared, so go ahead and touch up yourself if you want to. Main characters, you have your own booths,” he glances towards the stations at the end of the tent.

“You’ll be called up when needed. Actor Kim Seungmin, please get ready first since we need you for the entrance shots. That is all. Good luck.”

Head Scriptwriter Hwang bows politely to all of you before exiting the tent with Assistant Yang. With that, the battlefield begins.

You couldn’t remember much of what was happening other than you being sat down in front of a well-lit mirror and letting yourself become a doll in the hands of the make-up artists. The one assigned to your hair did start a short conversation about your previous works, to which you could only thank her shyly for her support. While you weren’t the most popular actress out there, you were still relatively well-known, with notable works under your belt. Seven years of experience wasn’t something someone could just laugh at, after all.

On the other hand, your co-star was a famous A-lister who was most likely getting paid significantly more than you for his role in this film. You glanced a bit to your right, where Kim Seungmin was happily chatting with his hair and makeup assignees, his voice effortlessly traveling its way over to your spot.

Ever the social butterfly, that one.

“Are you excited?” The woman assigned to your hair, who you learned was named Eunha, asked. You looked at her, startled by the sudden topic change. “Sorry—it’s just that you kept looking over at Actor Kim that it came to mind. He is quite the looker, isn’t he?”

“Oh.”

How should you even respond to that? It wasn’t like you could just go around advertising your personal beef with the man when, as far as you knew, he had a clean record on his plate. That would just be a lawsuit waiting to happen. You’d have to settle for something vague instead. “I guess,” you cringe at the evident pain in your voice.

“I’ve heard from others in the industry that he’s a great guy. You’ll have a blast filming this movie with him. I know it’s a bit awkward right now, but I’m sure you’ll warm up to him soon. After all, you’re both the lead roles.”

You’ll surely have a blast, alright—straight to the ego.

This conversation just gave you the unfriendly reminder that you had to act all lovey-dovey with this man, and if anything, it was triggering some unpleasant memories. By memories, you meant the charity drama from your acting academy days.

Your experience with that project was interesting, to say the least.

It had all started with Seungmin winning the prize of being the drama’s male lead after getting the top spot on the year-end evaluation for the junior level. Along with his prize came the privilege to choose who he would be acting alongside, only to surprise everyone when he chose you, a trainee who barely got recognition and wasn’t even in the top ten of your level. At first, you felt honored. It was like you were finally getting acknowledged, and by the top performer, no less. So you worked hard to do your part properly, wanting to repay Seungmin for his act of kindness; only for that kindness to turn out to be a mockery of you.

The difference in skill between you two was just too wide. Your shortcomings showed far too much, and your mistakes ended up being emphasized to the point that your level advisor became endlessly frustrated with you. First, it was the scolding. The woman clearly did not appreciate you holding back the entire production, especially since it was for a cause, so she would point out every problem in your acting, which quickly took a turn after you showed barely any improvement. Eventually, your advisor started to berate you—going as far as constantly referring to you as the reason the drama would fail. When you tried to raise the concern with her that it was affecting you negatively, she only brushed you off with a comment about how you should know to take constructive criticism this early to succeed in the actual industry.

At eighteen years old, you could only clench your teeth and accept your fate.

Things only got worse when you overheard Seungmin talking to his friends near the vending machines after practice one day—the same day they were talking about you.

“Dude, why did you choose Y/N to be the female lead?” One of Seungmin’s friends, Yeonjun, groaned aloud. “She’s awful at it. What? Do you like her or something?”

Seungmin only shrugged. “Not really,” he said, uninterested. “I just kept seeing her name during level advancements but never saw her doing anything to stand out. If she got this far, then I should give her a chance, no?” Yeonjun pursed his lips at the answer.

“That’s just cruel, man. The witch has it out for her now.”

“Then she can just do better,” Seungmin chuckles, taking a sip from his soda before continuing. “Not my problem anymore. If I do my role well enough, maybe they’ll pay less attention to whatever she’s doing.”

Beomgyu, another friend of his, scoffed. “So, like—you’re basically using her to your advantage.” You watched Seungmin wave him off without a care.

“Stop making it sound so bad like that,” he hums at the thought. “Let’s just say I’m saving her the embarrassment. Like you said, it was my fault she’s getting thrown around like this anyway,” Seungmin continues before tossing his empty can of soda in the trash.

And wow, did you feel like one after hearing that.

Starting from that point onwards, you held a dislike for Kim Seungmin. It did, however, give you enough spite to use as a driving force to do well in the charity drama—eventually climbing up to senior level right beside Seungmin, where you two clashed for the higher ranks before graduating and starting your own careers.

Despite this, the memory of the junior project still stayed ingrained in you, never really managing to fade away like you wanted it to, causing you to struggle in your quest to succeed in the industry. The deprecating thoughts came at the worst times, making you revert back to that eighteen-year-old who kept her tears at bay as the director shouted at her for the nth time.

It was particularly the worst right now.

“Cut! Bad take!”

You snapped your head towards Director Han, who looked so frustrated that he started to resemble a certain someone from the ghosts of your memories. Kim Seungmin was in front of you, his tongue poking at his cheek after hearing the comment. Right, you were at the set—shooting a scene. And you had just failed to say your next line.

“Actress Y/N, you can’t just keep forgetting your lines like this!”

04 : FOUR.

You really can’t go on forgetting your lines like this.

“Y/N.” Changbin sighs heavily. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

It would have been amazing if the gods could hear your plea. Your wish was fairly simple, after all—to be buried six feet under at the moment. To hell with being a popular actress; you wanted nothing more than to disappear right now after that stunt you just pulled. On the first day of filming, no less.

Should you just go dig your own hole instead?

“It won’t happen again,” you softly replied, like a child getting scolded by their mother.

Your manager could only take a deep inhale at your words. “And I believe you, I really do,” he says. “But I can’t just let this go like this.”

Of course, he couldn’t. You would do the same thing in his shoes. Changbin was a manager for an actress—an actress who clearly can’t even manage herself. Your job’s core had a simple description, and that was to act out your lines. Lines that you had to memorize, internalize, and perform. What was the point of having seven years of experience under your belt if you couldn’t even do the basics of your occupation?

“You have to understand, Y/N. It wasn’t just once, or twice, or heck—not even thrice! You had a minimum of five retakes per couple of lines, and that’s already concerning enough for me to have to intervene. Director Han was really disappointed today, and it’s only the first filming. The only reason you’re still coming back on set tomorrow is because, at the end of the day, we managed to get good takes despite the issues. So pray tell, is something wrong?”

The humble inn’s room you were staying in became devoid of sound from your lack of response, making the cicadas outside seem a lot louder than they actually were. Your sitting figure made you look small in front of the man before you, who was pacing across the room in distressed strides. In all honesty, you had nothing to say back to Changbin. As much as you trusted him like your own older brother, explaining your oh-so-stellar performance earlier would entail having to reveal your past with Kim Seungmin, which was the last thing on the list of secrets you wanted to get out. Thus, there was only one solution to your dilemma.

“Can we replace Kim Seungmin?”

Changbin’s jaw slacked. “What—him again?” He laughed humorlessly, completely baffled at your request. “And replace, you say? Y/N, at the rate we’re going, you’re the one in danger of getting replaced!”

Okay, you should’ve expected that. But the sting from your manager’s comment wouldn’t hurt any less, even if you did.

You were well aware of all of your shortcomings as an actress. The seven years you gained in this industry clearly taught you a lot of important lessons, but those same seven years barely did anything to your ability, no matter the amount of effort you desperately poured into your career. It felt like a futile attempt at pouring into a cup that had a big hole at the bottom—knowing you could be filled to the brim with the necessary factors to succeed exponentially, yet still letting everything go down the drain.

Maybe this was the wake up call you needed to acknowledge that you’re the only one holding yourself back. And you had the slight inkling that you knew all along where this whole mess stemmed from.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, even?” Changbin ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Look, if you really don’t want to tell me, then fine. I’ll respect your wishes. But you can’t expect me to understand where you’re coming from if I know nothing. Deal with how overbearing I could be, or I don’t know, just keep that in mind.”

“I understand.” You meekly nodded. “Sorry, again. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

With your vague words, Changbin eventually came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to speak about the issue today. Walking towards you, he finally accepted your decision with a light pat on the head. “You don’t have to say that to me, Y/N. Maybe to the crew tomorrow. And Actor Kim Seungmin if you want. Just promise me a better performance tomorrow, and we’ll be good.”

You chuckled dryly. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Alright.” Your manager rolled his shoulders back, releasing the tension that built up from his pacing. “I’ll go to my own room now. Get some good rest. You need it after what happened today,” he chuckles.

“Okay, good night.”

You plastered a small smile for him, only letting it drop completely after you heard the door shut. After that, it was just you and your mind, ready to play the most depressing thoughts all through the night to beat you down once again. However, you weren’t going to fall for that today. You had already promised a better performance on filming tomorrow.

And what better ways were there to achieve both than practice until the sun rises?

Well, that surely did it’s work for you because you walked into the set the next day looking like a few years had just shaved off your lifespan. But as long as you could still function well enough to participate in the shoot, then you would consider your little sacrifice worth it.

A certain someone would beg to disagree, though.

Seungmin has never felt more concerned in his life. Just what in the world did you do all night to come out of your room looking like a literal zombie? To make matters worse, no one was even batting an eye at your less-than-ideal state! He watched you get your makeup done from across the tent with a thoughtful expression.

“Is it just me, or did Y/N get no sleep whatsoever?”

Minho cringed at Seungmin’s blunt comment. “Oh, you noticed it too?” He purses his lip, feeling uneasy. “I feel bad for her, but after the mishap from yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed up all night trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. No sleep is better than no role in this industry, after all.”

Seungmin frowned at his manager’s words. That can’t be right. Sure, as actors, getting roles to play was their bread and butter—but no project was going to be worth more than their own well-being. If your condition was bad, then how were you expecting to have the proper mindset to act well? That should be simple logic.

He huffed. “I’m going to talk to her.”

Before he could even take a step forward, a strong force had already pulled him back. “Stop right there, Seungmin.” His manager gripped his shoulder in warning. “I know you mean well, but please do not do anything to agitate Actress Y/N any further.”

Seungmin turns back in disbelief. “What are you even talking about?”

“Aren’t you two close? I know how you joke around when you’re comfortable, and I’m just letting you know that this might not be the best time to do so.”

The actor narrowed his eyes at the implication being thrown his way. “You know, you’re making me out to be a major ass right now.” Minho shrugged.

“That’s because one wrong move, and you might as well be,” he sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is that what she probably needs right now is support. Someone who would give her motivation to get through the shoot today.”

Seungmin deadpanned at his manager’s sudden advice. He wasn’t expecting Minho, of all people, to lecture him about how to properly interact with others. “Exactly?” The younger of the two raises a brow. “What else do you think I was going to do?”

Minho looked hesitant for a second. “You and I both know that you’re not exactly the most—” he trails off, making random expressive movements with his hands instead. Seungmin scoffed.

“Spit it out.”

“—Motivating. You’re probably the least motivating person here.”

Seungmin visibly blanched at Minho’s admittance. Truth be told, he wasn’t expecting the older man to say anything particularly nice, but the actual reveal was just completely out of his radar.

Even when he was young, Seungmin never struggled with making friends. He’s always been well-liked by the people around him, which has made him fairly popular amongst his peers. With such a positive response from a lot of people regarding him as a person, Seungmin was clearly gifted in the art of making friends. So now, being told that he lacked the skill of uplifting others greatly confused him. If that were true, then shouldn’t he have had the opposite experience with socializing?

“I—” He stutters, caught off guard. “Do my social skills not prove to be enough for you?”

“Those are two completely separate things,” Minho barely managed to suppress a sneer. “Seungmin, you’re great at casual talk—that’s no surprise. But you also have the tendency to be dense. And that’s putting it lightly.”

“Oh.”

That would make sense. A part of him also admitted that his younger counterpart did struggle with connecting to others. Yes, he had a lot of friends, but that didn’t mean he saw all of them equally. As harsh as that may be, the old Seungmin had this unfathomable standard for people he could call friends, which he used as a strict criteria for judging others. He still kicks himself whenever he gets reminded of how big his high horse used to be, for no reason. Seungmin was more than willing to leave that time of his life at the back of his mind to collect dust. His life has been so much better without it, and he would do anything to maintain this satisfactory present he has carved for himself.

His manager chuckled. “Who knows, though? Maybe you could finally practice your empathy with this conversation. You’ve been around professional robots for far too long.”

“That sounds like an insult,” Seungmin says, expressing his doubt.

“I’m just saying it as it is.” Minho patted his back twice. “Now, I already warned you enough. If you still want to talk to Actress Y/N, then go ahead. Just know that whatever comes out of that mouth of yours is completely your responsibility, and I will not cover for you if you come out of this one with a broken friendship.”

Seungmin let the words sink in.

“There you go, all done!” Eunha exclaims, lightly pushing your hair forward to make the volume more noticeable. You gave her a thankful smile.

Eunha was someone you'd only known for two days, but she was already becoming your favorite person on set. The way she manages to lighten your mood every time made her worthy of being on the list of people you greatly appreciated, especially with how things were going for you recently. Today too, her positivity was very welcomed.

“Thank you,” you say while admiring her work. “It looks pretty today too.”

The hairstylist beamed. “Of course it should be,” she huffs in pride. “You need to be the prettiest one here on set. After all, you’re the female lead!”

You knew she didn’t mean it to be, but her words felt like little stabs to your heart. The prickly ache spread slowly, like poison that was meant to be discrete. You chuckled to offset the pain.

“Right.”

Female lead. The character you worked so hard for—only for you to also ruin the chance with your own hands. You couldn’t help but think of how ungrateful you were being, and for what? A personal grudge towards your co-star, who was being more professional about the situation than you ever tried to be? It was almost laughable how belatedly you realized that the situation was never going to be in your favor. You weren’t someone looking to be pitied, so why were you hypocritically trying to paint yourself as the distressed damsel?

Eunha sent you a troubled glance as she fixed the tools on the table. “Are you alright? I—” She sighed. “I didn’t want to point it out earlier, but I guess my concern got the best of me. The bags under your eyes looked deep earlier—Yerin did a great job covering them up, though! You don’t worry about how you’ll look on camera, but I’m just worried about your condition.”

You sheepishly scratched your arm at being pointed out. “Sorry for worrying you. I just forgot the time last night and fell asleep late. You could say I was too excited to shoot again today.”

“Well, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

You jumped in your chair, startled by Seungmin’s voice suddenly joining the space on your side of the tent. Eunha’s eyes gave you a silent apology before bowing to Seungmin and heading out of the tent, indicating that her task was finished. Your gaze fluttered toward your co-star, who was looking at you in a disapproving manner. It was then that you remembered his comment.

“And that was rude of you to disrupt a conversation that had nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin wasn’t fazed by your bite. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

“I asked a question first, Kim.” You crossed your arms at being ignored. “Also, I did sleep.”

"No, you didn’t,” he pressed on. You could feel your blood pressure rise at his insistence. “Even a twenty-minute nap could do wonders. You just look horrible.” You scoffed at the insult.

“Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened comically, and you almost laughed at the sight. Almost. He looked so guilty of what he had just said that you felt the urge to tease him as revenge.

“Wait, no—”

“An explanation isn’t necessary,” you hummed. “Even if that wasn’t a joke, I could really care less right now.”

Your reply made Seungmin flail his hands around like a madman. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean anything about it,” he coughs out before composing himself after realizing how silly he was acting. “Sorry.”

“Ok. Thank you for apologizing.”

“Sure,” he trailed off. Seungmin was now unsure of what to even do.

Oddly enough, your heart warmed at his reaction. A part of you was thanking yourself for finally becoming more rational, as you thought that maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sure, your past together was still rocky territory, but you had to remind yourself that time had also passed. Seven years at that. That detail took you back to the conversation you two had back at the table reading. You remember the way you hissed at him that you had changed—what made you assume that he couldn’t do it too? Everyone was allowed to become better versions of themselves, and Kim Seungmin wasn’t exempted from that. He was but another person living amongst others in this world, after all.

Changbin was right. Seungmin also deserved an apology.

“I guess I also owe you an apology,” you say softly. “About how I’ve been towards you the whole time—it was immature of me. I hope we can continue to work well until the end of this project, like you said yesterday.”

“Now, this is just odd.”

Seungmin was now utterly lost. He recalls approaching you despite Minho’s warnings, deciding that he had enough self-restraint to not screw it up—only to end up insulting you without meaning to. But that wasn’t the confusing part.

It was your reaction.

In Seungmin’s experience, you weren’t one to let something go like that. Even back when you both were in your senior level days at the academy, a simple jest from him would set you off into flames. The you he knew would immediately choose to chew him out, hoping that he would get burned by a rogue ember of your fury for even just attempting to speak such words. But the person in front of him right now did none of that. The you in the present simply took the accidental insult and even apologized for the ones you’ve spat out over the previous days. It was a whiplash, to say the least—just yesterday he was still fighting to keep you in a flowing conversation. So, what was this he was witnessing?

“Is it?” You snicker. “Just think of it like winning. You were right. This is a high-profile project, and I’m over here messing around. I’ve prepared a better performance for you all to see today, so be rest assured.” Seungmin still wasn’t assured.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright—”

“Main characters on set!”

Damn. So that’s how it feels for your conversation to get interrupted by someone unrelated to it. Seungmin internally acknowledged your annoyance earlier and kicked the memory of himself from a few minutes earlier.

You turned back to him, tilting your head. “What was that?” Seungmin refused to admit that he found the action cute.

“No, it’s nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have a good shoot.”

05 : FIVE.

Okay, you do not think this was turning out to be a good shoot.

You were already regretting pulling another all-nighter the day after you got absolutely no sleep. This meant that you were already nearing 48 hours of no sleep, to which you were surprised you were still even capable of functioning. You had never gone this long without sleep, and it was both thrilling and terrifying to you at the same time.

Honestly, you were already expecting to feel lethargic after the shoot yesterday, especially after staying up the entire night to master your parts and was planning to go to sleep early to make up for it. However, after getting nothing but praise from the directors and filming crew the whole day for your stellar performance that day, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your sacrificial act was exceptionally effective. A little too effective since your manager even said that your acting became much more alive than the takes you did the previous day, despite feeling the complete opposite internally.

Now, while you normally wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was peer pressured easily, it still felt really nice for your hard work to be acknowledged after the disappointing performance you had the day before. Which also led you to your current predicament—woefully repeating the same magical process that helped you gain your reputation back.

“You’re yawning an awful lot.” Seungmin raised a brow in question. “Don’t tell me that all the praise you got yesterday already got to your head, and you suddenly find all this boring.”

An irked look made its way onto your face, pinching hard on Seungmin’s arm. You watched in satisfaction as he yelped audibly at your damage, jerking away in reflex. “What the fuck, woman?”

“It’s what you get,” you say nonchalantly while shrugging. Seungmin scoffs at the response.

“Just because we have a truce now doesn’t mean you can abuse me whenever you like,” he snarls. “What happened to the Y/N who didn’t want me to talk to her unless, quote on quote, necessary?”

You cringe at the unwelcome reminder of your previous activities. “I apologized! Would you rather have me act like a total bitch again?”

“Well—no. That Y/N was a pain to deal with.”

“Then be grateful for what you have right now.”

Seungmin lets out an amused snort, crossing his arms and leaning backwards closer towards the living room’s walls, where you two were on standby. “Oh, believe me. I’m more than grateful.”

The set right now was in a cozy cottage house, designed to imitate what the female lead’s family home would look like. You had already moved past the beginnings of the main characters’ romance yesterday and were now heading into the development stage, where they spend more time together until they realize their feelings. A domestic scene in one character’s home was a popular trope—which was, of course, also included in the movie.

If today’s shoot goes well, then you only have one day left in the filming process before everyone packs up to head back to the city. Not for Seungmin, though. The male lead still had to film the first part of the movie where he quit his job at the company. You’d have to laugh at him about it on the last day.

First, you had to get through this shoot without fainting flat on your face.

It was a particularly hot day too, which made your drowsiness even worse. The rural countryside cottage didn’t have an air conditioner set up, so you had to make do with fans all over the place. But that barely did anything to cool you down, as the air around the place itself was humid. At least you weren’t shooting out in the sun today.

“Geez, my makeup might melt even before we start filming,” you groan. “That’s if my head doesn’t explode first.”

Seungmin chuckles. “Blame your character for being a sweater enthusiast. That outfit must be torture in this weather.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. The thick baby blue cardigan you were wearing felt like a punishment to wear at the moment. It was unfortunate that you felt really cute in this get-up because you wanted to trash on it so badly.

Actually, fuck it. Comfort matters more.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” you whine dramatically. “Every scene she’s had has her wearing some kind of version of a sweater. Does she not get hot at all?” You pull on your slightly weighted cardigan.

“I do think she’s plenty hot enough.” Seungmin smirks, glancing at you while waiting for your reaction.

You hummed in agreement. “She’s probably just tolerating it since it's her clothing style. I’ve had my fair share of those moments too.”

It wasn’t something you could see since you were more preoccupied with watching the staff prepare for filming, but Seungmin’s ears were slowly turning red. He took note of how his less than savory joke completely flew over your head, now leaving him to drown in the embarrassment of his original intentions.

Internally, he was already having a boxing match with himself. He thinks she’s plenty hot enough? What does that even mean? You were the only image he had of the female lead since you had her role! Seungmin wanted the ground to suddenly swallow him whole at the implication.

You, on the other hand, were fighting a completely different battle. The combination of the heat and your severe lack of sleep was becoming dangerous. You could already feel a growing pounding in your head, the world’s noise becoming more muffled by the second. It seemed like your vision wasn’t affected yet, though—and for that, you were relieved. That meant you could still stretch yourself out until the shoot was finished. You’d already done this once yesterday, so a second time wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Seungmin’s voice as he carried out his lines in the scene seemed so far away to you already, and it had only been an hour since the cameras started rolling. Internally, you were already sounding the sirens. Something was definitely wrong—you don’t think Seungmin was supposed to sound like he was underwater.

Your co-star seemed to notice that you were out of it too, except he couldn’t exactly stop the scene as you were still conducting your parts as proficiently as you could. Director Han hasn’t called a cut yet, either. So, he settled on carefully watching you for signs. You also thought you could last until the scene was over—until you couldn’t.

The last thing you remember was a figure rushing over to you before your sight went pitch black.

“Y/N!”

“Cut!”

Seungmin felt his heart race as he dashed over to catch you from crashing to the ground. What was going on? You were completely fine a while ago. How did you end up fainting? Could it have been the heat? He didn’t think it was going to be that bad for you since he was dealing with it pretty well. The heat wasn’t exactly unbearable. So what was it?

“Actor Kim Seungmin,” D.O.P. Bang called out. “We should take her to the medic tent. Someone, call her manager.”

Seungmin had never agreed more to a suggestion in his life.

“Seungmin? What’s—” Minho’s face paled in shock at the sight of your limp figure. “Oh, shit. That’s why everyone is running around like headless chickens. Quick, let’s get her to the medics.”

Minho sped over to give the actor a helping hand on steadying you, only to be stopped. “We’re wasting so much time.” Seungmin clicks his tongue.

Everyone could only watch as Seungmin positioned his arms on your back and behind your knees, hastily pulling you up towards him in a bridal carry and speeding away to the medic’s tent. Minho’s jaw dropped at his talent’s actions before recovering from the shock and tailing him.

“Seungmin!”

“What?” Seungmin responds half-heartedly as he sets you down on the cushioned stretcher, stepping back as the medics do their job.

“You—” Minho squeaks out. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!” He gestured towards you, still unconscious and being checked on by the medics on standby. “Did you just carry Actress Y/N?”

Seungmin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “And what about it? Did I commit a crime or something? I was just helping!”

Minho was conflicted. In all the years he had been working as Seungmin’s manager, the actor had never shown this much attention towards his other co-workers, despite maintaining an approachable and friendly image. Of course, that wasn’t particularly a bad thing—especially in an industry where caution towards everyone around you was basic common sense to prevent yourself from going down a road that would lead to your demise. The view was great up where it was high, but the fall was just as immense.

What Minho did acknowledge was your past with Seungmin. Because of that, he was inclined to think more about your friendship with his talent and how that played into your dynamic. Yet, over the course of the two days you two had been filming, he hasn’t exactly seen the kind of relationship he was expecting. There were discrepancies in what he knew about you and Seungmin, as well as gaps in the bond his actor painted a picture of. In times like these, there were only a few reasonable explanations that Minho could think of, which made him uneasy.

Something big was coming in the future—one that he needed to prepare for as early as now.

Hurried footsteps could be heard nearing the tent as Seungmin and Minho diverted their lines of sight towards the entrance, just in time to see a fairly muscular figure come in all frantic. “How is she?”

Minho immediately recognized the man from a conversation he had in the personal staff area, recalling his introduction as your manager. The former bowed slightly in greeting. “Manager Seo Changbin.” Seungmin felt his blood boil after seeing your manager’s late entrance.

“Where even were you?” He asked coldly, intentionally making his tone sharp. “You know, for her manager, you sure are practically nowhere to be found during shoots.”

Changbin splutters at the accusation. “Y/N doesn’t like it when I stay to watch! She says it’s pressuring!”

“Sure. But it’s your job to be on standby in the event that she needs you. How come you weren’t?”

“I—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A new face entered the space, who Seungmin quickly made out to be Assistant Director Lee. The second-in-hand gave him a disapproving look. “Actor Kim Seungmin, please stop lashing out at Actress Y/N’s manager.”

Seungmin felt like he was seconds away from committing arson. “I’m not lashing out if it's a reasonable argument!”

He felt someone grab a hold of him, forcefully pushing him down to sit. It was only then that Seungmin seemed to finally be conscious of how emotionally he had been acting—accepting Minho’s foresight on his actions. Assistant Director Lee, on the other hand, did not appreciate his recklessness.

“That it is, but we’re going to need you to stay calm,” he states. “The situation is sensitive enough as it is.”

Seungmin felt like he had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t risk making an unreasonable scene in such a respected project set, and knowing you, a tension-filled tent wasn’t going to be your preferred area of rest. Glancing back at your unconscious figure still being tended to, he let out a sigh to release the extra pressure in his chest.

Just what was he doing right now?

Once Assistant Director Lee saw him calm down a significant amount, he clapped to disperse the heavy silence. “Great. Now, can someone inform us when she wakes up so we can restart the shoot?”

So much for calming down, because Seungmin’s temper flared up again in an instant. “Are you kidding me?” He growled. “No, we are not proceeding with filming today!”

“Actor Kim, we don’t have enough time—”

“I’ll pay for all the expenses for the extension and rescheduling of all the remaining shoots. Put all of it under my personal bank account.”

Minho’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in shock. “Seungmin, what—”

“I said what I said,” Seungmin continued. “Now go do it. Both of us won’t step in front of the camera for the rest of the day.”

“You can’t just decide that for Actress Y/N,” Assistant Director Lee reasoned in disbelief.

Unluckily for him, Seungmin had already made up his mind—and when that happens, he isn’t one to give up on it.

“Then we’ll tell her it’s cancelled because I’m sure as hell won’t be filming today. You can’t make her act out the scenes prepared today without me.”

Assistant Director Lee was conflicted. Taking a day off so suddenly when they’d already had everything set up was going to be such a waste—and frankly, Director Han was already on edge about it. Granted, this wasn’t the first time he’d come across this situation, and certainly won’t be the last in his time in the industry. Now, an actor telling them that they’d pay for the cost of their demand? That one was new.

Kim Seungmin was notorious in the field for being a perfectionist, so he honestly came in here expecting him to agree with their plan. Maybe he should’ve considered the rumors he’d heard around the set that Actor Kim and you were closer than they initially thought. With that, Assistant Director Lee could only sigh. He’d just have to deal with Director Han’s displeasure.

Along with being a perfectionist, Kim Seungmin was also incredibly stubborn.

“I understand,” he concedes. “I’ll inform Director Han.”

Seungmin tried not to show his surprise on his face. He didn’t think he’d actually get this result so easily, but it was welcomed. “Thank you.”

“Let us know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Assistant Director Lee chuckled at Seungmin’s firm reply before announcing his leave. The atmosphere in the tent improved as he stepped out, but awkwardness still lingered in the air. Minho dropped down to slump on a plastic chair, leaving Changbin to stand stiffly near him.

“Y/N is totally gonna kill you, dude.” Minho groans, completely letting go of formalities in stress.

Seungmin had half the mind to be embarrassed by his choices. “And to think I’m doing this all for her sake,” he scoffs good-naturedly before turning to your manager. “Did something happen before the shoot? She couldn’t have passed out like this just because of the heat today.”

Changbin scratches at his neck. “Uh, I’m not sure—”

“—It’s exhaustion,” one of the medics spoke up. “Her body seems to be completely fatigued, as well as slightly dehydrated, but that must be the heat’s contribution. Has she not been getting enough rest?”

They watched as Changbin’s face morphed into shock, completely unsure of how that could’ve even happened. “But she said she was going to bed early yesterday!”

Your manager was slowly getting on Seungmin’s nerves. First, it was his constant absence from the set. Next, it was his blatant disregard for your well-being. The last time he checked, a manager was supposed to be aware of their talent’s condition as much as possible. Any less and it would be neglect.

He narrowed his eyes. “The picture you’re painting for me is not a good one, Manager Seo.”

“What are you implying right now, Actor Kim?” Changbin pounced back, Seungmin’s tone stirring negative emotions inside him.

Seungmin refused to back down. “You know damn well.”

“Kim Seungmin!”

“Watch your mouth—”

A rustling noise interrupted the three men’s small disagreement. “Ugh,” you groaned in pain. “What in the world?”

“Y/N!” Seungmin jumps up without a second thought to rush over. In the distance, Minho and Changbin’s eyes meet in mutual speculation.

“Seungmin, sorry, but please shut up.” You raise a hand to cradle your head. “My head is pounding.”

You could vaguely make up a medic handing Seungmin some pills and a bottle of water, saying something about how you were stable enough to just need rest and hydration. The next thing you knew was feeling a hand gently take your chin to create an opening and a pill being dropped inside, along with a water bottle pressing against your lips. You gulped it down in shock.

“The fuck—” You coughed. Another hand came up again to wipe some of the water you spilled around your mouth before you pushed it away. “Kim Seungmin!”

Your co-star rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “Would it kill you to stop being so fussy?”

“Not when you’re treating me like a child!”

Changbin clears his throat, effectively stopping your bickering. “Uh—I’m going to go get us lunch,” he meekly informs you two. “The medics also already went out to get food earlier, so I think we need to get our share before it’s all gone.”

Minho nods at Changbin’s words a bit too enthusiastically for your liking. “I’ll come with him. You two can talk while waiting.”

The two of you watch as your managers dash out of the tent like cartoon characters, raising a suspicious brow at their sudden change in behavior. Seungmin clicked his tongue in annoyance before turning back to you and flicking a finger at your forehead without warning. You squealed at the added pain as Seungmin’s suppressed laughter filled the room.

“You are such an asshole!” You shriek while bringing both hands to shield your forehead belatedly.

“And your hair looks like a nest,” he replies with a snicker.

You gave him a glare at his comment, rubbing the sore spot gently. “Shit,” you whined, feeling the ache from inside your head again. “I can’t believe I fainted. How long was I out? What about the shoot? Are we resuming after lunch?”

The questions you were asking him only served as Seungmin’s reminder of his actions earlier, causing his mouth to run dry. Truth be told, even he was unsure of how to tell you everything that happened while you were away in dreamland. He couldn’t just drop the ball at you that he made sure that the shoot had been cancelled just for you to have the rest of the day to rest up. At the same time, there was practically no other way to convince you that the cancellation wasn’t your fault unless he told you the truth.

But Seungmin had already caused you enough misunderstandings to last a decade—and he wasn’t about to add another one.

“You weren’t out for long,” he told you. “I’m actually surprised you even woke up right away. The shoot’s cancelled.”

He watched you pause to let the words sink in. What did he mean by the shoot’s been cancelled? Wouldn’t that be too costly? After all, you were literally renting a place far away from the city to shoot this movie. A shoot cancellation meant an extension, which also meant new arrangements needed to be made. You curled up into a ball, wanting to evaporate into the clouds at the heat of the sun. How much more were you going to screw up everyone’s experience with this project?

“Is it because of me?” You muttered.

Seungmin felt something inside him break at how small you made yourself seem. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid, only to once again fail to prevent it. That one was on him, though—he didn’t manage to tell you right away that he was the one responsible for the shoot’s cancellation. He felt the need to chase away your negative headspace as fast as possible.

“Why do you always blame yourself first? I cancelled the shoot, so just get some more rest.” He sighs.

Your eyes snap upwards to meet his. He had got to joking. “What?” You ask, bewildered at the statement. “And they agreed? I can still continue!”

Seungmin immediately acts to lift your legs back up on the stretcher when he sees you trying to get up. He places a heavy hand on your calves to lock them in place before sending you an unamused stare. “Land a single foot out of this stretcher, and I’ll make sure the shoot gets moved to next week.”

“You can’t just do that!” Your mouth gaped open like a fish. “Do you even know how bad the cost is going to be to extend for that long?”

“I’m more than capable of shouldering the expenses.”

That single statement made your stomach drop. “You cannot be serious,” was your horrified reaction. “Seungmin, did you pay for the extension costs?”

The man before you only shrugged, like he hadn’t just dropped significant information. “What about it?” You blanched at his unconcerned attitude.

“What do you mean, what about it?” You asked, absolutely outraged. “I swear, you’ve always been like this! You think you could just play around with everything around you, since you can. Why can’t you take things seriously for once?”

It was Seungmin’s turn to look offended. “Now, when did I ever do that?”

“The charity drama!” You cry out. “Yeah, I knew all about your little plan back then. If you acted well enough, they wouldn’t pay attention to whatever mess I was making, was it? I even overheard you telling your friends you chose me to become the female lead just because you were curious about how I kept advancing levels when I barely met the standard—and there I was foolish enough to believe that you chose me for my skills!”

“I—” Seungmin stammers. “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you held back a sob, feeling emotional as you poured out your inner insecurities. “Why would you? Someone of your caliber could go around bending things to your will, and no one would bat an eye since they would justify it with your talent. I’m the complete opposite, Seungmin.”

Seungmin was quite alarmed, to say the least. These were your side of the story—the side that he never got to acknowledge. He could only watch you try to keep yourself together in front of him, clearly struggling as your emotions ran wild at the release of what seemed to be years of suppressed experiences. His body was screaming at him to move and comfort you in any way he knew how, but for the first time in his life, Seungmin was completely frozen in guilt.

“I’ve lived the life below people like you. We were the ones that were always stuck in the shadows, where stepping on us became the norm. People like us were the pieces in your games of chess who couldn’t even speak out in the fear of being thrown out.” You inhaled deeply before meeting his gaze. “It was a life you would never even begin to imagine experiencing at your ability, Seungmin.”

Your words were like spears thrown at Seungmin’s heart. They all rang true in his head. He would never understand what you went through because he was part of the problem. Seungmin thought back to his past, trying to recall where it all started.

He was a young child, only ten years old, when he discovered his passion for acting. His class decided to do a play for the school festival, and he got the role of the main character completely by chance through drawing lots. Young Seungmin didn’t think of it too much and agreed out of obligation. It wasn’t until practices started that he started to take an interest in it after receiving constant praise from his classmates and homeroom teacher. This fascination only bloomed more on the day of the festival, where he found out that performing for people could be this exhilarating.

From then on, Seungmin made it his lifelong dream to become an actor. Seeing his talent in the field, his parents supported him wholeheartedly, eventually leading to them suggesting he join an acting academy to improve. The praises didn’t stop even after he joined the academy—in fact, they only doubled in frequency, making Seungmin come to the conclusion that he must’ve been some sort of prodigy. Perhaps it was due to that mindset of his that he paraded around like the world was his. To his defense, none of the adults around him saw the wrong in his behavior and even went as far as encouraging it.

It was when he graduated from the academy and started his work as a professional actor that he got humbled by all the talent around him. Everyone seemed to be on his level or greater, which completely shattered his worldview. During those times in his rookie years, he learned the importance of hard work and how much it could really make a difference. There was one time that he thought to himself—maybe this was the reason he felt so attracted to you.

You were the first person he ever associated with the difference that hard work brought. Seungmin first noticed you on the first day of intermediate level. He had gotten to that level first and thus kept an eye out for notable candidates from the beginner level. The thing is, he had never even heard of you or any of your performances—so it was a complete surprise to see you climb up to intermediate level. From then on, he observed you from afar, never really approaching. To him, you seemed plain; someone who didn’t even exude star quality. So eventually, he forgot all about you again.

Until he saw your name on the same paper as his, indicating that both of you would be in the same batch that got promoted to junior level.

The charity drama was another project Seungmin gained an unexpected opportunity from. With the privilege given to him as the top ranker for the year-end evaluations, he chose you as his female lead. All Seungmin wanted was to see what kind of shine you had as an actor, and he was rewarded greatly with your stellar performance after days of painful practices. When you were once again bumped up to senior level right alongside him, he was ecstatic. You had changed since the charity drama, and your aura started to take up more space in their small practice room. Seungmin wanted to get closer to you, but the two of you would only end up clashing every time. He guesses that you and him were just complete opposites in everything, down to your work ethic. He still tried to interact with you in any way he knew how, though—which led to his friends teasing him about his little crush on you.

Now, he couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your calves, letting his hands fall down on his sides before bowing deeply. “I’m sorry. There would be no excuse for my actions, and it’s even worse that I have no recollection of the details when I’ve obviously affected someone. I know an apology wouldn’t erase everything that has already happened, but it would be the start of my attempts to make sure it doesn’t happen again. At this point, all I can ask for is your forgiveness.”

You quickly reached out to grasp his arms, trying to pull him up from his act of remorse. “Get up—oh my god. It’s fine, Seungmin. Really. I’ve already forgiven you yesterday, honestly. My behavior also had some faults towards you, and it was unacceptable.”

“Knowing why now, I think it was more than reasonable.”

You let out a laugh at his words. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” you teased. “Now, I think the other crew members also deserve an apology from us.” Seungmin’s face paled at the reminder. Just imagining Assistant Director Lee scolding him for his audacity earlier was sending him into early retirement.

“Yeah,” he coughs. “But can we not take back the shoot cancellation? It would be so awkward for me if we did, and you still need the rest.”

“Fine, you big baby.” You pinched his cheek after seeing his childish pout. Seungmin was quick to swat your hand away, despite the burning sensation he could feel heating up his ears. “So does this mean we’re friends?”

Even if he could feel a crack form in his heart from your innocent words, Seungmin refused to show it.

“Sure. Friends.”

06 : SIX.

Being friends with Seungmin was odd.

Granted, you already got a taste of what that felt like for the two days that flew by since you two decided on a truce. However, you didn’t really feel much of a change in your dynamic in those two days—not until things took a turn after your conversation in the medic tent.

After your little heart-to-heart session, Seungmin had begun acting strangely. And by strangely, you meant becoming a complete one-eighty from the Kim Seungmin you were used to. It was almost like he was replaced by a softer, more warm-hearted version of himself. In one talk, you were suddenly subject to his endless affection, albeit still exhibiting the Kim Seungmin flare that you were comfortable with. Overall, it was just weird to think that four days ago, the two of you were fighting like cats and dogs. Now, you watched him bounce up and down as he gave himself a pep talk to prepare for the kissing scene.

“Are you that nervous?”

Seungmin flinches at your question, seemingly not expecting your voice to enter his head while he was seconds away from a meltdown. Your co-star looks at you sheepishly. “Is that bad? This is driving me insane.”

That was another thing different about Seungmin after the medic tent incident. He acted a lot more endearingly in your eyes. You faintly recall a comment you made a few days ago about how Seungmin would never be akin to a small bird who deserved to be doted on. But seeing the Seungmin in front of you right now, you might just take back your words.

Kim Seungmin had a lot more layers than you thought—and you found yourself wanting to uncover them all.

“I’m sure this isn’t your first kiss on camera,” you snort. “Just go do it like you usually do. Act like how your character would act in the moment. You have my whole consent, anyway.”

Seungmin wanted to tell you how much you didn’t understand his dilemma right now. In all fairness, even he was somewhat unsure of what was happening to him the past few days. All he did know was that he was right in what he thought during the first day of filming—he really did feel like he was turning younger in front of you.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he slipped into that carefree attitude around you, especially after your conversation in the medic tent. He was doing so well up until then, so what happened? Seungmin couldn’t be more curious about his own actions. He did have an inkling of what it was, but he needed more proof to act on it. Seungmin couldn’t risk becoming more of an idiot in your eyes. You already had too much of that experience with him during your filming yesterday, which was the rescheduled shoot of the one he demanded to pause.

That also meant that this was the last day you two had on set together before everyone packed their bags and headed back to the city. After that, it would be just him again on set to film the movie’s first scenes of his character.

Seungmin wasn’t disappointed. He totally wasn’t.

“What are you going to do if I lose control and give into my character, huh?” He argues. You stopped reading your script to give him an unamused stare.

“Seriously?” You scoffed. “If you really must know, then I wouldn’t do anything. If that’s what the male lead feels, then the female lead just needs to reciprocate if they’re really in love with each other. As their actors, we need to deliver those same emotions.”

You didn’t get what was making Seungmin so on edge about the scene. Reviewing his past works, this certainly wouldn’t be his first on-screen kiss, nor was it his first romance project as the male lead. What made you so different from his other co-stars that was making him act like a rookie?

“If anything, I should be more nervous than you. This is actually my first kiss scene!”

“That’s just even worse!” Seungmin whines, burying his face in his hands. “This is gonna be terrible.”

It was then that you finally had an idea as to why Seungmin looked like he was having a mid-life crisis this early in his life.

You felt a grin creep up on your face and paste itself there. “Did you want this to be a good memory for me?”

Seungmin groans at your poking. “Stop teasing me! So what if I do? Did I commit a crime, huh?”

“The crime of stealing my heart, yes.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you,” you laugh. “I try my best.”

Seungmin mutters something beneath his breath—something you couldn’t hear because of Director Han calling for the two of you. He watched as you skipped away, leaving him to follow in your footsteps. Seungmin smiled at the picture painted in front of him.

“I know.”

You stopped at your designated place in front of the camera, turning back to look at Seungmin beside you, who was already sweating bullets. Your hand unconsciously lifts up to wipe them off, which startles the both of you. Seungmin opens his mouth to say something but was cut off by Director Han’s loud voice.

“Alright!” He claps. “This is our last scene for the day before we call it a wrap! I’m sure you two already know what it is, so all I’ll say is don't think too much about this. Enjoy it, or whatever you want to do—as long as it looks natural. Sounds good?” The two of you nod at him.

“Okay, camera starts at three,” he says, motioning towards D.O.P. Bang. “Two, one. Action!”

You took the opportunity to appreciate the scenery around you as the camera started rolling. The scene was set on a hill with a breathtaking view of the rest of the town. Hues of orange and pink start to tint the surroundings as the sun sets in the background. It was nothing less than ethereal, and you almost envied the female lead for having this moment in her life.

“I’ve always wanted to take someone here,” Seungmin says, reciting his lines. “When I was younger, I told myself that I was going to bring my true love here and propose. It was unfortunate that I moved away—this was my favorite spot in the whole world.”

You let yourself completely immerse in the situation. “Propose, huh? I’m sure the lucky person would love it up here. It’s so serene, like it's taking away all your stress just by being here.”

Seungmin gently grabs your hand into his, making you turn to meet his eyes. You almost gasped out of character after seeing the immense amount of love swirling in his gaze. Love looked great on him, you pointed out in your head. One day, Seungmin was going to look at someone else with the same gaze—someone that he loved with all his heart. A tinge of hot green jealousy burned in your stomach at the thought.

Part of you yearned for someone to look at you even just a fourth of the way Seungmin portrayed the male lead’s longing for the female lead. But for now, you had a role to fulfill. You could just lock these feelings up for later.

“Do you?” He asks. Your breath hitches at his question. “I’m not proposing—well, not yet. But I brought you here for a similar reason.”

Seungmin reaches for your other hand, now holding both of them. “I love you so much. I know our time together hasn’t been the longest, but it seems like my heart has found its way back home. Honestly, I first thought that it was just because I was back in town, but eventually I realized that I felt at home with you too.” He caresses your knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe my heart knew where it belonged long before I did. I loved you back then, just like I love you now.”

You couldn’t help but genuinely tear up at Seungmin’s monologue. It was such a beautiful feeling to be loved, and you hoped that someday you could experience the same kind of love you acted with. “So, I’ll ask you this question,” Seungmin continued.

“Will you be mine?”

“Yes,” you sobbed out.

Seungmin lifts his hands to cup your crying face, bringing you closer to his own. The moment your lips connected felt so magical that you ended up leaning in more, savoring the moment with your fluttering heart. Seungmin reciprocates the act, kissing you with more emotion than he did just a second ago. His lips felt like smooth pillows, coaxing you to release all the tension you had left and rest—with him. Seungmin was being careful yet passionate at the same time, leaving you to drown in the sheer magnitude of the butterflies.

You couldn’t help but love every passing second that you were lost on his lips.

When you two pulled away due to the lack of air, he kept his forehead to yours, noses touching. The soft sound of both your laughter filled the surrounding area.

“Cut! That’s a wrap for today!” You hear everyone start cheering at Director Han’s words. Seungmin chuckles at them as he slowly steps back, missing the way your body followed after his warmth.

“Congratulations,” he says gently. You felt your heart skip a beat. “Your first on-screen kiss, done. How did I do?”

Oh, this was going to be dangerous for your heart.

07 : SEVEN.

There’s been an empty feeling in your heart since yesterday that you were trying to ignore.

It was currently the day after you returned to the city. You watched the bustling streets of urban life filter through the car’s tinted windows while Changbin continued to drive you back home after a busy day in the company. Something you had never expected to happen was getting attached to the small countryside town you filmed in enough to miss it like this.

You felt it when you stepped out of the car yesterday to head back to your apartment—the polished concrete floors of the parking building suddenly felt foreign to you. The abundance of luxury cars was evident in the space, reminding you that you were once again in the city. It felt almost cold and lonely with the way you couldn’t see the hills you got used to seeing all day long. But it would do, you think to yourself.

The city could also be warm if you wanted it to be.

“Oh? I think they’re filming the first scenes of the movie in a building around here,” Changbin pointed out from the driver’s seat. “Minho mentioned this street a day ago.”

You raised a brow at his words. “Since when did you and Seungmin’s manager get so close?”

“Ever since you and his talent did,” Changbin snickers.

Heat rose to your face at your manager’s teasing. It was no secret to anyone who witnessed the movie’s shoot that you and Seungmin got extremely close after the fainting incident. You were sure that his efforts to stop the filming from continuing that day was also the talk of the town with the crew members. After all, who would go so far as to pay for rescheduling costs for their co-star? Sure, you and Seungmin were friends, but the two of you were barely talking in the first few days of the project. Anyone in their right mind would find his actions out of the blue—just like you did too.

Maybe it was just Seungmin’s way of making up for all the things you both went through. At first, it made you mad at how he flaunted his blatant disregard for the people affected by his decisions. The image of younger Seungmin came to mind, triggering the part of you that still held a slight resentment for what he did before. However, you found yourself slowly changing your mind as you two apologized to the crew members for the sudden decision, promising them swift and quality scenes the next day. As Seungmin walked you back to your inn’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of happiness bubble in your stomach at the thought of someone caring enough to do this for you.

You watched as the evident signs of a film crew appeared in the distance, right in front of an office building. The same tents you’ve come to familiarize yourself with stood strong, indicating that this was indeed filming the same movie you were working on. It was already early in the evening, so they should be wrapping up any time soon. Should you stop by and say hello?

“Do you want to stop by and visit? You don’t have any schedules left for the rest of the evening,” Changbin suggests, getting ready to park near the building if you give confirmation.

Maybe you could repay Seungmin for his support over the past few days by visiting him. You smile at the thought of catching him off-guard.

“Sure, why not?”

The summer air of June was starting to make itself present despite already cooling significantly due to the sun saying its goodbyes an hour or two ago. Bright lights scattered across the vast street, a mixture of car lights, building lights, and streetlights morphing into the familiar image of a city that everyone knew. You walked towards the set peacefully, effectively going under the radar with a black mask covering your face. It was just a few steps more until you reached the barricade, when a familiar voice called out your name.

“Y/N?” Eunha squinted her eyes to determine if it really was you, only for you to watch them widen in surprise when her conclusion was proven correct. “Oh, it is you!”

You waved as you got closer. “Hi, Eunha. I saw you guys while passing by and thought I’d give you a visit,” you say shyly. Eunha beamed at your explanation.

“That’s so sweet of you; you’re always welcomed here!” She gives you a hug, quickly separating to drag you over the barricade. “Come on, I’ll show you to the others.”

Witnessing the set as a visitor was interesting. Despite the multiple people that greeted you on the way, it still felt as if you were an outsider with a V.I.P. pass to tour the set. Normally, you would be somewhere near the center, where the main scene was going to be shot. So staying back and watching the other crew members do their own things on the outskirts of that area was a new experience. In a way, you felt giddy like a child on a field trip.

“Actress Y/N is here!”

Eunha’s ecstatic voice traveled throughout the main area of the set, catching the attention of the directors, who had a figure you knew all too well standing right beside them. His eyes snapped up from the monitor D.O.P. Bang was showing him, eyes searching around for yours. Once he caught sight of your face, his eyes lit up.

“Y/N?”

If anyone asks, you totally weren’t checking him out. The clean black office suit he was wearing was incredibly flattering on his features, along with the formal brush-up the hairstylists put his hair in. You had only seen him with his hair down for the past few days—with his character supposedly portraying the look of someone who was comfortably back home to rest. And while that Seungmin was also objectively handsome, the way his hair was framing his face right now was stirring something more inside of you. Swallowing the feeling away, you straightened yourself.

“Hi, Seungmin.” You laughed. “Missed me?”

Seungmin abandoned his post with the directors and sped towards you. “Why are you here? It’s getting late,” he says, worried. Seungmin lets his eyes wander behind you for a second before a frown finds its way to his face. “And where’s that damned manager of yours?” You sighed at his obvious complaint.

“When are you going to let down on Changbin?” You say, unamused. “I swear, he means well. I came from the company, so he’s guarding the car since it’s just on hazard.”

“Still—” Seungmin tries to argue, only to be cut off by you waving your finger like he had been a bad child.

“Stop that. We talked about your coddling.”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Maybe I’d stop once you actually learn how to take care of yourself.”

A series of claps interrupted the conversation you two were having. “Okay, break it up, lovebirds,” Minho says while inserting himself between you two. “It’s so nice to see you again, Actress Y/N. But we have a crew celebration dinner to attend, so I’ll borrow Seungmin first over here.”

Your co-star resists his manager, staying firmly on spot to prove a point. “Wait, I’ll walk her back to her car first.” Minho gave him an odd look.

“What do you mean walk her back?” He questions. “She’s attending. You just need to get changed out of that suit.” It was your turn to look confused.

“Huh?”

That was how you suddenly found yourself sitting at a long barbecue restaurant table with the other female crew members, silently listening to their energetic conversations while downing as much meat as you could. You didn’t know if this was a curse or a blessing in disguise, but you would surely regret it if you didn’t make the most of what was handed to you. Free food is still free food, even if it was a sponteneous invitation from the directors.

“I’m so happy we finished filming!” The woman assigned to your makeup, Yerin, said aloud. “Now it's those computer bastards’ turn to slave away.”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for a portion of her hardships. “Once again, I apologize for all the trouble I caused you on set.” You slightly bowed while still sitting. “Hopefully, it will be better the next time we get to work together.” Yerin only waved off your apology.

“Oh, please—don’t be such a worrywart! Having you on set was a delight,” she squeals. “Plus, we had a blast seeing the development between you and Actor Kim Seungmin.” Eunha’s face quickly turned into one of horror.

“Yerin!”

You paled at her words. “I’m sorry, what?”

What did she mean by that? The inside of your mind turned into a battlefield at Yerin’s implication. Your eyes immediately turned to search for Changbin, feeling the need to inform him of a possible issue in the near future. In your experience in the industry, scandals always started like this. You didn’t want this to affect Seungmin’s career negatively, so it was always better to prepare early than late.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N,” Eunha frantically says, trying to get a hold of her co-worker. “She’s just drunk.”

Yerin pushed her hands away, albeit weakly. “Eunha, stop being such a party pooper,” she whines. “We all know they’re dating now. Oh, our crew has tight lips, though! We won’t sell you guys or something.” That didn’t ease the panic that had already formed in your stomach.

“We’re not dating.”

You could only watch as Yerin’s showed genuine shock at your revelation. “Wait, for real?” She gasps. “That’s too bad. You two look great together!”

“Yerin, seriously!”

“Sorry, I’ll just go get some fresh air.” You excused yourself as politely as you could before standing up to head out the front door.

The now-cooled air pricked at your skin, making you breathe a bit more easily than in the humid interior of the restaurant. You lowered yourself to the narrow road’s curbside, choosing to sit down and admire the quiet neighborhood’s lights. It felt a lot better out here than inside, making you feel guilty for not enjoying the celebration more than you should have as one of the main characters for the project.

If you had refused, it would’ve been a bad look. You didn’t have a schedule for the night to use as a reason, and lying to the people who gave you the opportunity to work on your biggest project yet was out of the question. At the same time, you think of what you would’ve been doing instead if you had said no to their dinner offer. Laying down in your apartment while eating takeout wasn’t such a bad scene. The sliding of the aged wooden door brought you out of your thoughts.

“See? Just what I said,” a monotonous voice pointed out. “No self-preservation skills whatsoever.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. “It’s just the outside of a family-owned barbecue establishment, Seungmin. There’s practically no one out here at this time.”

“Does that not make it worse?” He gave you a look of disapproval, crouching down slowly to join you on the curbside. “You have a knack for making people worry, do you?”

“Then stop worrying!” You snapped—his words reminding you of the situation you had just fled from to find peace.

Seungmin raised his hands in surrender. “Woah,” he exclaims. “Alright, something is clearly wrong. Talk to me.”

You could only turn away, feeling yourself unable to face him. It was an awkward subject to bring up, and you told yourself that Yerin had already promised that the crew was tight-lipped. Objectively, there was nothing more left for you to worry about. Subjectively, the implication bothered you. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “Did someone say something to you back there? You know I can beat them up, right?”

You grimaced at his attempts to comfort you. “You’re so violent,” you frowned. “What if it was a woman?”

“Oh, then I’m out of that. Sorry.”

“So full of shit, that’s what you are.”

Seungmin chuckled. “And that I am,” he replies, amused. “But seriously, I’m all ears if you want.”

A bitter taste announced its presence on your tongue, your mind forming a whirlpool of thoughts once again. “Why? Since we’re friends?” You spat out.

The space around you turned silent with Seungmin’s lack of response. You fought the urge to give him a discrete glance, just to see the damage you created. It took a few more seconds of the evening breeze being the only one talking between you two before Seungmin eventually spoke up.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says in a low voice while running a hand through his hair to pull it back. His hairstyle from earlier was long gone, leaving you to wonder how he got rid of the hairspray so easily. “I actually don’t like that we’re friends.”

He watched as you deflated rapidly at his confession.

“Not in that way!” Seungmin splutters. “It’s just that I—ugh.” He brought up a palm to rub across his face.

Now, you were lost. The path of where the conversation was going became lost to you, making you stand in uncharted territory. Seungmin stayed silent for a few more seconds, trying to collect his thoughts. You let him have the time.

“You might curse at me for this or even put a distance between ourselves. But since this is our last day seeing each other on set until the movie’s release, I’ll take the chance now before I end up regretting I didn’t.”

“Seungmin, what—”

“The thought of staying just friends with you has been bothering me for a while now. It was like I was subjecting myself to my own personalized torture, where I couldn’t get away even if I tried. I’m still not sure what this entirely means for me—for us, but what I know is that platonic would never satisfy me at this rate.” He purses his lips, contemplating how to continue.

Eventually, Seungmin raised his head slightly to meet your eyes. “It’s odd. Admittedly, I’ve had my fair share of romantic relationships in the past, yet none of them could compare to what I was feeling now. At first, I thought it was just an obsession with you. Something that stemmed from my previous interest in you back at our senior level of academy—”

“You had a what?”

“I know,” he laughs humorlessly. “My friends used to tease me that I had a crush; that was why I was bothering you so much. Back then, I just brushed them off as jokes, telling them I only saw you as a rival. Well, look where that ended up.”

You were frozen in shock at his confession. “Seungmin,” you start. “I don’t know what to say.” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to. Just let me have this moment to pour everything out,” he says. “Y/N, to put it into words, I feel at ease when I’m with you. At the same time, it always felt as if I was constantly worried about when it would end. That I would be left on my own again once you had finished your business with me. I tried to reason with myself, to put an acceptable distance between us in the case that what I had wasn’t the best for you. But I couldn’t do it, Y/N. Every time your voice entered my ears, it was like becoming a child. Unable to control their emotions and doing things without a second thought just because it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.” Seungmin looks up to the sky.

“That kiss we had—I think it was the happiest I’ve been in a while. It might have been just a job to you, because you could say it really was, but for me, it was finally a chance to express everything I had been holding back for the past few days. All I want you to remember is that nothing from that act was faked,” he exhales. “I really don’t think this is something you feel for a friend, so—”

“Let’s see where this takes us.”

“—What?”

“I’m not sure how you expect me to top what you just told me, but I’ll try with my own words.” You teased him with a genuine smile. “Seungmin, I feel strikingly similar to what you feel about me. Just maybe not as intensely yet.”

You let yourself move at the need to cup his face as he continues to look at you in shock. “I’m sure you already know that I spent quite a long time hating your guts, so the fact that I even started to feel an attraction towards you was shocking, to say the least. I was never one to believe in fictional tropes, despite my lifelong yearning to experience a love like that even once. As an actor, I’ve made a career out of acting those scenes out for people to see. But also as an actor, I knew more than anyone else how much real life would never be able to compare to the scripts I’ve seen brought to life on set. They were methodological, a feeling so carefully put together to achieve its maximum potential—real life isn’t like that.” You inhale deeply.

“Things happen for no reason, like they don’t for no reason either. And in a way, I felt both with you.” Your hands lowered themselves towards his hands to hold them tightly. “Enemies-to-lovers? It was laughable at first, but as the days went on, everything just fell into place as if it always belonged there. You feel like a child in front of me? I feel like I’ve never felt warmth in my entire life until you came along. When I first got out of the car yesterday, it was only then that I described urban life as cold and lonely in my entire life. I thought that maybe it was because I got too attached to the homey feel of the countryside that everything I’ve ever known somehow became foreign in a few days. But maybe it was just because of you.”

You found yourself giggling at the dumbfounded look he still had on his face, mind slow to take in what was happening in front of him. “What I’m saying is that I would love to see where this takes us. Right now, you can’t expect me to fall in love all of a sudden, especially considering our past. Though if you try hard enough, perhaps that might be just around the corner. What do you say?” Seungmin finally broke free from his trance, eyes watering.

“I’ll show you hard work that you’ve never seen before in your life.”

“And I believe it.” You pinch his cheek before standing up. “Now, let’s go back inside? The party is still ongoing.”

Seungmin clumsily follows, calling out just in time before you opened the door. “Wait—I still don’t have your number.” You gave him an astounded stare.

“Seriously?” You breathe out. “We went through all that, and we still don’t have each other’s numbers?”

Seungmin voices out his offense. “Well, I’m sorry that I was missing all my shots!”

“So, does that mean you’re gonna take a shot now, loverboy?”

“For you, yes.”

taglist 🔖— thank you for waiting ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @feelikecinderella @abbiestearsricochet @heelovesmeknot @floating-moon-dust @yoontaethings @hwangism143 @jazziesssss @hwangflora @vixensss @yourlocalstayyxi @dollce-exe @bambispostsblog @authentic-65 @dandelions-143

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arthenaa · 6 months

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nocturne (interlude) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: it seems as if you've always managed to bump into your father's regular in untimely situations. it also can't be helped that you think he's absolutely handsome.

content: reader is a daughter of a medic and an apothecary, golden retriever x black cat trope, might contain historically inaccurate terms (not that well versed in the edo period or japanese culture. forgive me), mizu will be referred with he/him pronouns, mizu being emotionally constipated ig, slight mention of violence and gore, fluff, pre-relationship, meet cute, sfw.

a/n: heyaaa :D its been awhile since ive posteddd. considering this as a break from comms and sch!! ill try to be more active in posting as my xmas break is approaching hehe <33 current hyperfixation is mizu from blue eyed samurai. (I HIGHLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT !!!) enjoyy part 2!! (my love mine all mine)

You can still remember the first time you met him.

It was quite easy to recall the memory with ease. It was after all one of the nights where there weren't many customers fluttering about to avail your father's services in medicine due to idiotic accidents and miscalculated duels. You watched your father pull out herb after herb, vial after vial, stitch after stitch as more and more swordsmen of all ranks came in and out of the shop.

You were quite well-known around town as the daughter of the medic—often smiling and huffing about. Some say you were too naive to be comfortable and accommodating to your father's customers but others also claim you were elegant and a ray of sunshine due to your approachable and easygoing nature. None of that mattered anyway, not when the field of medicine was your only focus in life.

Your father doesn't like to call you his apprentice but you knew you were his. After all, with all the knowledge he's passed down unto you, you might as well run your own apothecary but alas, you still had much to learn.

It was also a quiet agreement among men that no one pays too much attention to the daughter of the skilled medic and apothecary. You suppose it's because of your father's standing and reputation that most men would rather cut off their arms than get on the bad side of one of the only medics who can actually do a decent job in life-threatening situations.

Which brings us to the current topic at hand.

It had been a cold winter that night. Your father had been busy making fresh medicine at the behest of a high lord in one of the rich provincial states up north. It was up to you to man the front and be alert in case any wanderers might walk in asking for help.

The harsh breeze of that winter night was your first cue. The doors had swung open which left you scrambling off your seat then a second later, a man with a lean stature stumbles his way through—arm clutching the side of his stomach.

Your breath hitches as he props himself against the wooden pillar. He looks up at you, blue eyes clear and intense that it left you speechless from where you stood.

"I-I," He gasps for air, eyebrows scrunching from the pain. "Help-I need—"

You wasted no time in aiding him as you took wide strides to his injured form, arms holding out to keep him steady as he began to wobble back and forth. You scream for your father, worried that the man before you would pass out at any moment.

Thankfully aware of the situation, your father prepares the receiving area. You look back at the injured patient with worry in your eyes as you further assess all sorts of damage on his figure.

However, you can't help but find yourself entranced by his clear blue eyes. Despite being on the brink of utter exhaustion, he has managed to keep himself awake perched up on your shoulder.

He locks eyes with you, blinking slowly, and just as you begin to get lost in those blue hues of his, his body begins to fall.

"Sir, wait—!"

Then he's out like a light.

The next time you met him had been purely coincidental.

After that night, the man left quietly like the leaves falling gently along the stream. He left quite a hefty sum of money on your father's desk and kept the bed clean at his departure. It's safe to say that your father was overjoyed by the payment.

Your father had sent you on an errand to town to gather some supplies from a supplier he trusts. He had been busy attending to patients and manning the counter to be the one to get the package himself.

"You have nothing better to do anyway, might as well be useful to your old dad," Your father scrunched his nose playfully as he placed a bag of money on your palms. "And if a man approaches you, remember to use that knife I gave you and make clean perforation at the jugular vein—"

You had stopped your father right there.

It didn't bother you that much and this also was an opportunity to get some leisure time. You did as you were told and saved a bit of money for window shopping.

Stumbling upon an artisan selling hair ornaments, your eyes immediately dart toward a golden hairpin with imitations of sakura leaves. Upon reaching out to inspect it, a hand collides with your own causing you to let out a gasp.

"Apologies—" Your eyes dart up to look at the stranger but is met instead with familiar blue eyes, this time under the disguise of orange tint sunglasses. "Oh! It's you."

The man furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Are you Mr. Gojo's—?"

"Daughter?" You perk up with a smile. You shift from heel to heel at the intensity of his gaze. Somehow, you're feeling quite nervous with this gentleman. "Yeah. I caught you that night."

"Ah," The man nods, awkward in his stance before turning back toward the array of ornaments in front of him. "Thank you."

"I-It was no problem," You stammered, hands smoothing out the fabric of your kimono. "It's what we do after all."

There's a hum of response coming from the man before silence ensues between the two of you. He had gotten back to analyzing other items that the vendor was offering and you could only stand there, discreetly watching his every move.

You didn't have the opportunity to take a good look at him besides his eyes that night. Your father seemed like he had recognized the man before you and ushered you out of the room before you could have the chance to offer help. Though, now, you could see that he had a proportionate height—a few inches taller than you but still tall nonetheless. His shoulders evoke confidence with every move of his body but his face talks of the mystery hidden under the guise of his kasa. He was pretty, yet... handsome. You've never come across a man who could embody both sides of the spectrum.

"Do you need something?" His voice had startled you out of your daydream causing your cheeks to flush. He raises his eyebrow with his ever-perpetual glare. You give him a sheepish smile.

"I've never gotten your name, sir." You purse your lips, tilting your head as he squints his eyes at your request.

"My name? Why?"

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at his response. Why? What does he mean why? This man was truly cynical, you think.

"Well, I saved you, didn't I?"

"Correction. Your father did." The man deadpans. You giggle at his tone, eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Alright, no need to get so philosophical with me," You jest, trying to get him to lighten up to you. You take a step closer, trying to gauge his expressions as you give him a lighthearted smile. "Is getting to know people a crime now?"

The man sighs before looking at the array of hair ornaments to your right. He then grabs the hairpin you were looking at and tosses a bag of coins toward the vendor. He places it within your palms before adjusting his cloak. You flinch at the sudden gesture, unaware of his intentions.

"It's Mizu." He says before turning and leaving without further explanation. You stand, agape as the man further blends in with crowd with each step he takes away from you.

This man—No, Mizu, surely is interesting.

This next meeting was one you were thankful of.

Now, it wasn't as if your meetings were solely limited by chance. He became a regular after your father's incredible work on him. You watch him arrive usually at the end of every week, either looking to restock the medicine that your father gave him or get himself treated for an unwanted injury.

You tried interacting with him during his visits but Mizu always either cut the conversation short or grunted in annoyance. He never tried to entertain much of your whims and only left you grasping at straws for whatever possible chance of interaction he might give you.

Although, despite being cold towards you, he still has the heart to help you in mundane tasks whenever he encounters the chance. For instance, upon seeing you struggling with the basin, he immediately walked over and carried to where your father is with ease. He also grabbed your freshly bought basket of fruits and guarded you on your way back home. He even thumped the back of your head lightly with his hand on his way out while you were fixing up the front.

He was an enigma. A puzzle you desperately tried to solve but always failed.

The thought of his gentlemanly actions had always left your heart thumping faster and louder within the confines of your chest. Wanting to know him, get closer to him, see the corners of his lips upturned—anything to see a version of him only you can keep.

It also seems that your father is familiar with his master. You hear talks between them, asking about the well-being of a man named 'Master Eiji', the one whom Mizu calls his swordfather. You ought to know better than to eavesdrop but somehow your attention has always been led towards his very existence.

Your father had always been strict about you ever since you were but a wee girl. He had expressed the importance of having a fruitful marriage with someone who is of your deserving. He, after all, was in a true love marriage with your mother and was together for at least 25 years before your mother succumbed to her illness at the age of 45.

It also didn't help that you were deemed the sunlight of the town, often getting several interested looks from promising men. But all your suitors couldn't take the intensity of your father's expectations. It's safe to say that you won't be getting married for awhile.

"Just stay here, my daughter," Your father sighs as he serves you seconds of your favorite food. "Who the hell cares about marriage anyway."

You laugh, reaching out to pat your old man's hand. "It's going to look bad for you if you don't marry off your one and only daughter, y'know?"

"That's precisely why I don't want to do any of that," Your father grumbles, taking a sip of his soup. "Work here, eat, sleep, go have fun. That's what your mother would've wanted anyway."

You were grateful for your circumstances, yes, but you've always wanted to help out as much as you can for your dad. His reputation as a skilled medic can only take so much before others will come to expect more. So as long as you're in his care, you try to help out around his shop as much as you can.

Although you wonder if your father would allow him to—

Ah, forget it. Convincing your father was a lost cause.

Back to the current task at hand, your father had tasked you to gather some herbs from the forest near your humble abode as it is less taxing for your finances when you have easy access to one nearby. Gearing up for the coldness of winter, you stepped out of your house in pursuit of such herbs. With a hop on your step, you wish to finish your task sooner than later to prepare for a certain gentleman possibly visiting later at night.

The only you thing you didn't account for was the possible danger you'd be encountering.

"Listen, I-I don't want any trouble," You slowly backed away as a group of men began surrounding you. It was uncommon to encounter bandits around this area as this was situated near the town. You're not so sure as to what prompted this criminals to stage a robbery in broad daylight.

"Oh, c'mon little miss," One of the bandits chuckled. He twirled a knife in his hand as he approached you menacingly. "We just wanna know what you're up to."

Your breath speeds up as one of his companions playfully advanced with a jump in his step. You flinched back, heartbeat thumping as the crunch of leaves around you signified their slow advance towards your figure. You clutched the knife your father gave you within your hands, ready to use it in case one of them tries something.

Jugular vein. Neck. Neck. Vein. Keep it fast. Right side.

"Perhaps we could do something fun, darling? I'm sure you'd love it." Wide grins and loud laughter erupted from their lips.

Vein. Lethal point. Could head straight through the liver. Artery. Perforation.

Your head had begun to ramble, your father's words echoing within the depths of your mind. Just as you adjusted your grip on your knife and one of the bandits had began to finally get whatever they aimed for in the first place, a breeze of wind suddenly alerted you of a new presence.

You shut your eyes in fear as one of the men at the far back screamed.

"What the fuck?!" The leader bellowed as he watched his man crumple to the ground, holding what was left of his dismembered arm. The other bandits begin turning towards the new opponent, swords ready as they watched him step over their comrade.

You open your teary eyes, locking gazes with the familiar hues of blue hidden under orange tint. There's some sort of hardened glare as Mizu looked at you up and down, assessing your well-being within a matter of seconds.

"This is Takayama's jurisdiction," Mizu's deep voice bellowed as he placed his hand on the scabbard of his sword. "I suggest you leave."

The leader lets out a scoff as he widens his shoulders to appear more menacing to him. Mizu only looks at him under the guise of his kasa.

"You are outnumbered, samurai," The man smirks. It might've been intimidating with the number of men that surrounded Mizu but you were well aware of his prowess as a swordsman and completely had faith in his abilities. "Your talks of dominance do not affect me."

Mizu chuckles, one hand reaching up to push back his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"We'll see about that."

"Thank you," You smile widely, eyes crinkling as you grab his extended hand.

The bandits groaned in pain as they crumbled to the ground. Some have even passed out from the harsh hits that Mizu had inflicted. You watched him twirl and move with elegance, slicing and hitting with precise angles that left you in awe at his performance.

It took at most 15 minutes for him to finish all of them and another 3 minutes for you to pick your jaw off the floor and fix yourself up.

"It's no problem," Mizu nods at your gratitude. He holds your hand firm as you wobble back and forth to stay back in balance. "Although, I advise that you venture towards areas within the town vicinity. This area is bordering outside of Takayama, thus the bandits."

"Ah," You let out a soft laugh. "There were more herbs here. I thought it was safe."

Mizu doesn't reply back as he gazes at you from the comforts of his glasses. You flush at his stare, still not being able to handle its intensity. You look down to busy yourself with, staring at your conjoined hands before finally taking notice of a scratch on the side of his hand to his wrist.

"You're injured," You whispered as you pulled his hand close to yours. You hear Mizu's breath hitch as he stumbles slightly at the pull of your hand. You look up at him as he furrows his eyebrows.

"I-It's fine, it doesn't hurt." He tries to reason with you but your grip on his hand remains steady.

"You saved me so I'll repay you by treating this. Alright?" You give him your best smile and suddenly the samurai doesn't have the heart in him to say no. At the sound of his reluctant silence, you enthusiastically pull out your satchel filled with medicinal tools. It was handy that you always kept your tools with you no matter where you went.

You applied antiseptic, brushing it with a clean cloth along the wound. Whether Mizu felt the pain or not, he only remained as still as a rock while you worked.

"You're early today," You try to make conversation as you clean his wound up. Mizu stays silent for a few seconds before replying.

"I had free time," He says. "I... was also out of medicine so..."

You hum, nodding along his words as you make gentle strokes to ease the pain (if he ever felt it).

"If you ever need to go out like this again," He picks up the conversation making your heart skip a beat. There's a pause of silence before he continues. "Let me—If I'm there, let me know. You don't need to endanger yourself like this."

You let out a quiet laugh as you finally wrapped his wound with a white strip of cloth. You look at him with softened eyes, reveling in his slightly flushed cheeks and gaze dulled by sincerity. There's a pause of comfortable silence between the two of you, only lost in each other's gazes.

You slowly reach out, hands pausing as you communicate a request for consent. Mizu only gives you a small nod before you reach out to pull off his glasses. Those same beautiful blue orbs stare back at you as you revel in their gaze.

"You're more handsome like this," You whisper as you take a step closer to him. Snow gently falls around you, cascading in gentle flow as you breathe out puffs of air. Mizu tilts his head with an upturn of the corner of his lips.

There it is.

You flush in his gaze as he reaches up to brush a stray hair away from your face. "You're jesting," He says with a quiet tone.

Your gaze at him doesn't waver. "I'd say yes if you asked me to marry you."

Mizu let's out a chuckle, eyebrow raised at your bold response. "You are one dangerous lady, Y/N. Does your father know that?"

You roll your eyes at him. "How could he know when all he does is keep men away from me," You tilt your head playfully, "Although, I do wonder why he often keeps you close. Perhaps, he's found you to be worthy of a man."

Mizu laughs at your praises, shoulders shaking as the two of you stand close to one another, basking in the soft breeze of the winter sky. He lifts his hand up and flicks your forehead. You flinch back, holding your forehead in pain as you give him a glare.

"Ow?!" You frown as he looks at you with a smirk on his lips. "What a way to turn off a lady!"

"You're too adorable to be a lady," Mizu teases as he crosses his arms over his chest. He tilts his head as he looks at you with squinted eyes in thought. "Kind of like a.... puppy."

Your jaw drops at his comparison causing him to release a few chuckles. It wasn't fair that he was out here causing poor things to your heart and raised by a father who was direct and determined to achieve the things he wanted in life, you didn't allow yourself to back down.

With wide strides, you easily reach where he stands before standing on your toes and grabbing his face as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Wha-?!" His face flushes a deep red as he moves back holding his cheek. You flash him a cheeky grin as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"I'll be waiting for your proposal, Mizu," You giggle, swaying back and forth with your hands tucked behind you. You put on his glasses before leaning slightly forward with eyes squinted playfully. "Or shall I be the one to propose, hm? Seeing as your blushing from just a kiss on the cheek."

Mizu takes a few seconds before collecting himself. There's an unreadable look on his face before makes careful steps towards you. You watch him, curious as he stops in front of you—hand reaching out to pull his glasses off from your face. You expect him to start berating you for invading his space but what you received after was certainly something you never took into account.

He leans down and gingerly places a kiss on your lips. Your breath hitches as he presses himself close before pulling away all to fast. Your lips tingle as you watch him put on his glasses back with a smile.

"I'm no coward, Y/N," He adjusts your cloak as you remain speechless in front of him. "I don't make promises I can't keep."

And just as he enters, he walks off with quiet footsteps, leaving you grasping at whatever was left of your brain after what he just did. Your face flushes a deep red as your fingertips touches your lips with shaky movements.

Did this man just—

"Are you coming?!" He calls over from the dirt path back to your house. You stumble in your footing as you rush over to him.

"I-I'm coming!" You stammer as you gather your things and rushed towards him. He greets you with a smile and this time with his glasses tucked away. Blue hues greet your flushed form and suddenly an overwhelming realization washes over you.

Oh, I'm definitely not going to let this man go.

a/n: MY WIFE MIZU MY WIFEEE,,,,, planning to make a pt2 idk lemme guys know if u want one. will also fix my archive, tumblr's getting messy. NOT PROOFREAD but will fix if ever i do go back on this after my finals. HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS!

#arthenaa #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #the blue eyed samurai #Spotify

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kwanisms · 10 days

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Sweet Temptations — p.seonghwa

» ateez masterlist | seonghwa masterlist «

➮ florist!Seonghwa × fem!Reader wc: 22.1k (sorry lmao) summary: Y/N favorite part of working at the Sweet Temptations Cafe is the view of the gorgeous flower shop across the street and the handsome and kind florist who comes in every morning at 7 am on the dot. genres/themes/au: smut; flower love language, strangers to lovers; non idol au, florist au, barista au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, flirty Seonghwa, also Seonghwa being a menace, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

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a/n: this is my submission for the @cultofdionysus Spring event, The Language of Flowers. I have no excuse for the word count lmao just enjoy it. I’m probably going to stick to posting longer oneshots because I enjoy world building. Thank you so much @cheolism for beta-reading this for me ꒰｡•◡•｡꒱ thank you to everyone who reads this and if you reblog it, just know I’m tucking you into bed and kissing ur forehead 😘 as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: male masturbation, corruption kink, unprotected sex (wrap that shit), oral (m receiving, f receiving), mild facefucking (f receiving), dirty talk, praise (f receiving), finger sucking, spitting, choking (f receiving), marking/biting (f receiving), semi public sex, rough sex, hair pulling (m receiving), mild breeding kink, use of pet names (baeknari/lily, petal, blossom, sweetheart, kitten, etc.), dom!Seonghwa, sub!Reader, and I think that’s it but I could have missed some lol

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Park Seonghwa was a simple man, known for three things: his love for coffee, his punctuality, and his affinity for flowers.

It had never been his intention to open a flower shop but somehow it had happened. When he was a child, his father had loved gardening, as had his mother. From a young age Seonghwa had learned the language of flowers, particularly of those in his parents’ garden. Along with his exceedingly good looks, his knowledge of flowers ended up helping him score points with the girls in his class.

As a teenager, Seonghwa wanted to be an athlete, particularly in volleyball, having lost his love for flowers and their secret language. He'd intended to make that his career but after the untimely death of his grandmother, Seonghwa rediscovered a passion and love for flowers. He changed his major from sports to business administration and upon graduating with a degree, he set out to start a business.

Four years had passed since he opened his flower shop, The Flower Guy, and he was surprised by the overwhelmingly positive response from the town. Business had been booming ever since he opened his shop and it didn’t die down. He’d built up a steady clientele, from other businesses to wedding planners.

He’d been able to turn it into his livelihood and couldn’t be happier with the decisions that led him to where he was now, even as he swept the floor of the shop, pushing the dirt into the waiting dustpan.

The sun was setting over the town square, basking the buildings in its dying golden glow. With a stretch and a sigh, Seonghwa checked the time on his watch before walking over, turning the lock on the door, and flipping off the switch for the open sign. He went back to his sweeping, brushing all the dirt and debris from the stone tile into the dustpan before picking it up and making his way to the back of his shop to deposit the dirt.

He checked the door leading to the narrow alley behind his shop, making sure the lock was secure — although if anyone did manage to break in, the most they would find were some flowers and maybe some gardening tools. Seonghwa was a smart man and always made sure to empty the register and do his accounting at the end of each day, taking everything home to put in his safe there. The safe in the shop was for show and only kept papers inside.

After putting away the broom and dustpan, he set to work mopping the tiles from the door to the back before putting the microfiber mop away. He then set to work, misting all the flowers in the back room. After he grabbed the till from the register, moving back to the office to start the process of closing up and counting the profits of the day.

You flipped the sign from opened to closed and let out a yawn. The square outside was almost deserted, only a few people still outside, enjoying the nice weather of the day.

“Y/N, could you wipe down the tables and counter for me?” you heard from behind you and turned to find your manager, Addie, already starting to mop.

Without a word, you headed through the shop, ducking behind the counter to grab a clean rag and the bucket of soapy disinfectant water. You grabbed a pair of gloves, pulling them on before heading out to start wiping the tables down and cleaning them up. You worked in silence, the soft piano tones of the overhead speakers playing on low volume.

The cafe wasn’t very big, and the tables weren’t exceptionally dirty, so it didn’t take you any longer than usual to wipe all of them down. You were wiping down the counter, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot of spilled coffee you must have missed earlier in the day when Addie returned, opening the drawer of the first register and starting to read the card slips, inputting any of the tips that hadn’t been put into the computer.

Once done, she pulled out the money and added it to the jar you kept on the counter by the register for tips before moving to the other register and repeating the process. It had just been the two of you working the front end and one person, Lin, in the kitchen.

Wednesdays weren’t a particularly busy day for the cafe and the amount of work you had closing reflected that. Addie went to the back to do the daily accounting while you checked on Lin in the kitchen, offering them your help. Once you were both done, you announced your departure to Addie who wished you both a good night.

Outside, you said goodbye to your coworker and noticed the door of the flower shop opening. The florist was exiting, shutting the door behind him and locking it with his key which he returned to his pocket. He turned and froze, noticing you watching him.

“Good evening,” you said as he started forward again, closing the distance between you.

“Evening, baeknari,” he said, a smile on his face as he reached you, matching your pace as you started to walk alongside him.

‘That nickname again,’ you thought to yourself, a smile threatening to spread across your lips.

You remembered when you’d asked him what it meant and he told you that in Korean it meant white lily. For some reason, him calling you ‘white lily’ made you giddy.

“Busy today?” you asked, keeping your hands tucked in your pockets.

“Not terribly,” he replied, his own hands tucked in his coat pockets. “Mainly just people coming to buy flowers for their partners. Got a couple events booked next week,” he added.

“Do you book a lot of events?” you asked as the two of you walked towards the main street.

“A fair few.Mostly birthdays and the odd anniversary,” he explained. “The floral arrangements for those are always easy.”

You smiled as you glanced up at him.

Ever since you’d first met Seonghwa, there was something about him that drew you to him. Maybe it was his passion for his craft, his sense of humor, or maybe his incredibly good looks. Regardless, you had been intrigued immediately and were interested in getting to know him on a more personal level.

You knew almost next to nothing about the man other than he liked banana nut muffins, caramel macchiatos with white chocolate sauce, and flowers. You could pick out other little facts based on your short interactions with him. He dressed like a model, wearing clothes that probably cost more than you were willing to spend. Then again, he could probably make anything he wore look expensive.

He also smelled amazing, like warm vanilla and cinnamon.

Not that you took to smelling him often. The scent just permeated the air around him; not in a way that had you coughing or gagging, though. He reeked of expensive taste and oozed a confidence and charisma that you could only dream of possessing.

“What are the hardest events?” you asked, looking up at him. The two of you stopped at the main thoroughfare and Seonghwa turned to look at you, fixing you with his dark brown eyes. He hesitated a moment before answering your question.

“Weddings,” he said honestly. “I love booking weddings because I can make a lot of money doing floral arrangements for an entire venue but there’s the…” he trailed off, glancing away and across the street. You took a step forward, not realizing it until he looked back down at you and was considerably closer.

That was the thing about Seonghwa, he had this innate ability to draw people into him, figuratively and literally. He was alluring and magnanimous. He always managed to invade your thoughts and made you want more of him, whether that be through conversation or something more intimate —

‘Get it together, Y/N. You’re in public!’

“The what?” you asked softly. Seonghwa chuckled lightly before answering.

“The brides,” he replied. Your brows knitted together, confusion taking over your features.

“The brides?” you asked. “What’s wrong with the brides?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Nothing, inherently. It’s just some of them.”

You nodded, understanding instantly.

“Ah,” you replied, fighting the urge to smirk. “Bridezillas.”

He nodded, eyes scanning your face as you glanced at a passing couple with a dog, a smile crossing your face. One of your favorite things about this town was all the dog owners. You loved dogs.

‘Distracted much?’

You turned back to Seonghwa. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The bridezillas.”

You opened your mouth to respond but was cut short by the shrill sound of a ringing phone. Seonghwa sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, holding up a finger. “Hold that thought,” he said, fishing his phone from his pocket, and checked the screen.

Whoever was on the other end he must not have wanted to talk to, because he groaned and rolled his eyes yet again. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, looking up at you. “I have to take this and if I know this person, they’re going to talk and talk and talk. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded as he started to back away, his phone still ringing. “Have a good night!” you called as he answered the phone.

“You, too!” he said before turning away and starting to walk in the direction of his home, leaving you to turn and walk the opposite direction.

“This had better be good, Joong,” Seonghwa snapped. “I was in the middle of a conversation with —”

“With Cafe Girl?”

Seonghwa sighed, coming to a halt and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Yes. And for the last time, her name is Y/N.”

Hongjoong chuckled on the other end. “Yeah, her. Have you asked her out yet?”

Seonghwa continued walking, switching his phone to the other side. “No,” he answered. “Not yet.”

Hongjoong booed him and Seonghwa clenched his jaw as he walked through the few pedestrians on the sidewalk, making his way to his apartment. “You’re never gonna get in her bed if you don’t ask her out.”

Seonghwa could have strangled his friend.

“Is there a point to your call?” Seonghwa asked as he approached the door to his building.

“Oh, right! I have this thing,” Hongjoong started. “An event.”

Seonghwa snorted as he typed the code in to get into his building. “You have an event?” he asked incredulously as he walked across the lobby, nodding at one of his neighbors picking up their mail as he stopped by his mailbox to retrieve his.

“Yes,” Hongjoong said, sounding indignant. “I have an event and I was wonder—”

“Let me guess,” Seonghwa said as he pressed the button for the elevator. “You want me to do floral arrangements?”

He heard Hongjoong scoff over the phone. “No, I was gonna ask you to attend, smartass.”

Seonghwa got off at his floor and made his way to his door, bowing politely to his neighbor as he passed.

“When is it?” Seonghwa asked as he reached his door, fishing out his keys and unlocking the door.

Once inside, he kicked his shoes off and walked over to deposit his mail on the kitchen counter.

“Next month, the 30th.”

Seonghwa told him to hold, pulling his phone away from his ear to check his calendar.

“I should be free,” he said. “Send me the details,” he added as he started to go through his mail.

“Awesome. And actually, on second thought, could you perhaps make me something pretty to display?”

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head. “Goodbye Joong,” he said, hanging up before his best friend could say anything else.

“The nerve of that guy,” he whispered as he set his phone down. “To expect me to make him shit for free.”

Of course, Seonghwa would make something nice for Hongjoong and he would definitely be doing it for free.

Free food and alcohol that is.

——————————————————

‘Well, shit.’

Seonghwa stared at the long line from outside the cafe and sighed, reluctantly pulling open the door and stepping, holding the door for two people who were leaving. He glanced over the heads of the patrons before him to find you working diligently to take orders with another cashier and even hopping on to help fulfill orders, making lattes and wrapping up scones, muffins, and other pastries all with a smile on your face.

One of his favorite things about you. You never complained, at least not in front of the customers. You never let them see how overwhelmed or stressed you were. You always had a smile on your face, working fast to make sure everyone’s orders came out in a timely manner.

You handed over a bag full of pastries, giving the customer in front of you another radiant smile before they stepped aside to wait for their coffee and you were able to take the next order. Seonghwa couldn’t help but watch you work. He always had a habit of watching you when he came in.

He hated how creepy that made him sound but he was just so fascinated with how well you seemed to work under pressure and how well you kept it together when a customer was screaming in your face. You were always so polite and so sweet and Seonghwa knew he wasn’t the only one who noticed you.

There were always a plethora of men who flirted with you, asking for your number, asking what time you got off work. And always you turned them down gently and sent them on their way; every single guy got the same treatment.

Well, every guy except for Seonghwa. He noticed that when the other guys flirted, you smiled and steered the conversation back to their order, yet when Seonghwa did the exact same thing, flirting with you as if you hadn’t heard every pick up line in the book, you never once turned him down.

In fact, if Seonghwa was remembering correctly, you often flirted back with him, smile widening into a genuine one before you looked down at the counter and either busied yourself with a marker or your apron, something you often did when you were flustered.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but with him, you always flirted back and it drove Seonghwa increasingly mad. Especially when your smiles turned shy, you shifted nervously, or pretended to be busy, all tell tale signs you were shy or flustered.

Seonghwa remembered the first day you started working here, having been a regular customer for several years. He’d seen several guys flirt with you before he approached the counter and made a joke about them, which made you genuinely laugh. That was the exact moment he knew you were going to plague his every thought.

That laugh, the way you threw your head back, the genuine joy and amusement on your face and the cute stickers you added to his cup sent the signal that you just might be interested in him and so every day for the last two years, he’s been coming to this cafe.

Not for the coffee, not for the pastries, but to see your beautiful face. Hopefully make you smile or laugh, and when he did, it gave him enough fuel to get through the day, more than the coffee or the muffins you sold him every morning.

Seonghwa was only a few paces from the counter when you noticed him. You had been making a latte when you glanced over and noticed him, a shy smile gracing your lips before you went back to work so as to not spill any of the boiling hot coffee on your hands.

The next customer went, ordering what seemed to be the entire left side of the menu; thankfully the person before Seonghwa ordered a simple black coffee and a sugar-free blueberry muffin; then it was his turn. You wiped down the counter and smiled at him which soon turned apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” you started softly. Seonghwa’s stomach sank and he wondered what you could possibly need to apologize to him for. “We ran out of your usual muffin,” you explained and Seonghwa smiled, his stomach settling back where it was supposed to be. No banana nut muffins? No problem.

“Oh that’s alright,” he said, glancing at the menu quickly. “Just the usual coffee and I’ll try a lemon poppyseed muffin instead,” he ordered, pulling his wallet out as you punched his order in and pressing the card reader option on the terminal.

“Sorry it’s so busy,” you added in an undertone. Seonghwa tapped his card against the reader until it beeped and put his card away in his wallet, placing it back in his pocket.

“And take your time,” he added. “I’m not in any rush.” You smiled and mouthed ‘thank you’ before turning to start making his coffee.

It wasn’t like anyone else couldn’t make his coffee, but he preferred it when you did and knew you preferred it, too. You often drew little doodles or added stickers and left encouraging messages on his cup sleeve — which he totally didn’t keep when he needed a mood pick up during the long hours at the shop.

He waited patiently off to the side, checking his phone. He wished he could get your number one of these days but he really had no way of asking, considering he knew you’d never be able to give your number to a customer while you were working. That had to be against a bunch of rules.

But he could leave his number with you, right? God, he was stupid. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

Seonghwa approached the counter to speak to your co-worker. “Hi,” he said softly. “Do you have a post-it note and a pen I could borrow?” he asked. The college-aged student nodded, grabbing a stack of yellow post-its and a pen, handing them off to Seonghwa. He took them with a thanks, scribbling down his number and name.

You moved from the coffee maker and slid open the cold case to grab his muffin with a deli paper. You placed it into a paper sack and grabbed the coffee cup, moving to the pick up area where Seonghwa was waiting. “One caramel macchiato with white chocolate sauce and a lemon poppyseed muffin,” you said with a smile as you placed his order on the counter and pushed it towards him.

Seonghwa leaned forward, thanking you and pressing the folded yellow post-it into your hand before grabbing his coffee and muffin, giving you a wink, and making his way to the door. He didn’t stop to see if you opened the note. He would find out later if you took him up on his offer.

As he reached the door to his shop, fishing his keys out to unlock the door and let himself in, he felt his pocket vibrate in his pocket and chuckled to himself. “That was fast,” he whispered as he shut the door and turned the lock, moving through the front room and into the office.

He set his coffee and muffin down, reached into his coat pocket and pulled his phone out, expecting to see an unknown number but instead saw a text from Hongjoong.

Joongie: what was that shit we got when we were in the city last month? The wine. The red one Seonghwa rolled his eyes before typing in a quick response. Seonghwa: the red wine we got at dinner from that one restaurant? It was Roscato – Rosso Dolce. Joongie: ur a life saver! (: thank u! Seonghwa: is this to impress a girl? Joongie: I’ll never tell ;)

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and locked the screen of his phone, setting it down on the desk and removing his coat to hang up. He sat down and opened his bag to pull out the muffin and took a nibble. It wasn’t bad. The banana nut ones were his favorite but this would do.

He grabbed the coffee cup and smiled at the words and doodles on the page as well as a couple stickers. ‘She must have done this when I wasn’t looking,’ he told himself, smiling at the little notes you left on his coffee sleeve. Another one for his collection.

The rush had finally ended and you could take your break. You grabbed a simple iced coffee and a muffin, moving to the back to sit at the break table and pulled the yellow note from your apron. You unfolded it and read on the note.

You smiled, gently nibbling on your bottom lip as you slipped your phone out of your pocket and opened your texting app, entering his digits into your phone and sending a quick text.

Y/N: hey. it’s Y/N (: I’d love to get dinner with you. Just say the time and place

You continued to pick and nibble on your muffin, scrolling on your phone as you ticked away the minutes of your break. You decided to send one more text to let Seonghwa know you were heading back to work and would be unavailable until after your shift was over.

Once it sent, you pocketed the device and went back to work, trying desperately not to think about the phone in your apron pocket that vibrated every so often and what that notification might be.

The rest of your shift was uneventful as you took orders from the few stragglers that came in, others coming in to take up residence at a table and work on either work or school work while sipping on their coffee and taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.

“Could you take these back to the kitchen to be washed,” Addie asked softly, pulling you out of your stupor as you stood doodling mindlessly on a notepad you kept at the register. You set the pen down and stood up, taking the carafes from her and heading for the doorway into the kitchen where Lin was currently washing dishes.

“Need any help back here?” you asked, hopefully but they shook their head.

“Nah,” Lin answered. “I got it. But thank you,” they added.

You turned away and headed back up front, sighing heavily as you returned to your spot. You glanced up at the clock. Time seemed to be ticking slowly, minute by minute. Inching by like a snail on a garden wall. Slow and steady wins the race but what race? Race of being bored to death?

‘Okay, Y/N, stop being dramatic.’

“Addie,” you murmured, chin resting in your hand as you looked around at the mostly empty cafe. “I’m dying of boredom here,” you announced before turning to face her. “Please tell me you have something for me to do,” you said, almost pleadingly. Addie chuckled and nodded towards the dining area.

“If you’re desperate for something to do, you can wipe down the empty tables,” she answered and you smiled, ducking down to grab the small bucket of soapy sanitizer water and a clean rag, before standing up and making your way out from behind the counter.

Cleaning the tables was something to keep your body occupied but unfortunately it didn’t do much for keeping your mind occupied. Every once in a while, you threw glances towards the windows that looked out into the town square where you could see the front of the flower shop.

You pulled your phone out and snuck a glance at the screen but there were no notifications beyond your discord group chats with friends. ‘He must be really busy,’ you thought to yourself as you tucked your phone away and went back to wiping down the tables.

Every time a table cleared, you were quick to wipe it down, brushing any debris onto the floor to sweep up later with the broom.

When the last of the customers cleared out and Addie shut the door, locking it and flipping the open sign over to the side that read ‘closed,’ you were beyond excited to get out of the cafe and go home.

Grabbing the broom, you started from the back, sweeping around the cafe, making little piles of dirt, trash, and other debris to come by and pick up with the dustpan later. Lin finished the dishes in the back and was restocking the small fridges under the counter while Addie was preparing things for the following day.

Once your small mounds of dust and trash had been swept up, you made your way to the back to fill the mop bucket and grab the mop. Taking it back to the front, you worked from the far side of the shop towards the counter while Lin returned to the kitchen to clean the back.

By the time both you and Lin had finished mopping and drying key areas of the floor, Addie had finished counting the tills and was in the office, doing the final accounting duties of the day.

“We’re finished, Addie,” Lin said as you both peered into the office.

“All right,” she replied. “I’ll see you two tomorrow?”

You nodded, waving and then made your way to the front door, Lin not far behind.

“Do you want to grab an early dinner?” Lin asked as they pulled their beanie on, the ends of their hair multicolored flipping up. You smiled and shook your head.

“No, but thank you,” you replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” you announced as you turned to walk in the direction of your home, Lin heading the opposite way.

As you passed, you glanced over at the floral shop to see the lights inside were still on from what you could see; the open sign had also been flipped to show it was now closed. You hadn’t seen anyone go in or out of the shop since Seonghwa entered it this morning and you wondered if it was normally closed on certain weekdays and you just hadn’t noticed before.

You were half tempted to stop by, knock on the door and tell Seonghwa in person that you were interested in going on that date, but you’d have to just trust he would get your texts. You didn’t want to come off as desperate but something inside you told you Seonghwa wouldn’t mind even if you did.

Still, you would wait for his response.

Seonghwa looked up from sweeping to notice the cafe had already flipped its open sign. He could see your figure in the distance walking away from the shop and he watched as you walked away, resisting the urge to exit his own shop and stop you. He’d just wait until he got home to check his messages.

He hadn’t been able to look at his phone since that morning when Hongjoong texted him. He had orders to fill for school dances and other events. It was also pruning day so he really couldn’t have his phone on him with how much work he had to do.

He turned away as your form disappeared from his line of sight and continued sweeping. His hands tightened around the broomstick, the frequency of his sweeping motion increasing as he remembered the way your eyes looked up at him in curiosity when he handed you the note and it made his mind run wild.

‘No. Stop it.’

He shook his head and tried to go back to the task at hand but it wasn’t long until his mind wandered, imagining how you’d look bending over to sweep the cafe and again he had to take a deep breath and force his mind elsewhere. It was getting ridiculous, the way his thoughts ran wild when you were on the forefront of his mind.

He was no stranger to fantasies but this was beyond fantasizing at this point. He couldn’t help but think about you doing the most mundane tasks before his imagination got away from him and he was imagining bending you over his kitchen counter, or laying you back on the counter of the cafe as he buried his head between your thighs —

“Stop it!” he shouted, throwing the broom to the floor with a clatter as he ran his fingers through his hair, eyes screwed shut as he regulated his breathing, shoulders rising and falling as he failed to gain control of his own thoughts and emotions.

His constant fantasizing made him feel like some sort of crazed sexual deviant and he often wondered if maybe he just needed to get laid and the thoughts might go away. Unfortunately for him, the only person he wanted was the source of his anguish, the subject of all his fantasies and thoughts.

Seonghwa grumbled to himself, bending over to pick up the broom and resume sweeping. He needed to get it done fast so he could go home to find some relief.

Once the shop was clean and locked up tightly, Seonghwa left out the front door, the bell ringing as he opened the door and shut it. Once he locked it, he began making his way across the square in the same direction you had initially gone, only to eventually turn right and head for his own apartment.

It wasn’t much, an old brick building that was once a high school before the new one was built and the old one turned into apartments. It was the first place Seonghwa looked when he was moving to this town and found a one bedroom apartment with a den. He’d lived there ever since, turning the clean slate into a home.

The bedroom Seonghwa had turned into an office and opted to sleep in the den where there were no windows. He had this thing about light; he couldn’t sleep if any lights were on, even if they came from outside. The den had no window, and so he didn’t need to buy blackout curtains. The doors to the den were double sliding doors that met in the middle and with the twist of a knob, locked together. It wasn’t as sturdy as a bedroom door, but it did the job.

Seonghwa unlocked the door, letting himself into the apartment where he shut and locked the door. He then leaned against it, letting out a sigh that morphed into a groan. He took off his shoes, setting them by the shoe rack, and removed his coat, hanging it up in the closet by the front door.

He set his mail on the counter and started going through it, sorting the important stuff from the junk.

Once that was done, he checked the time and sighed before picking up his phone and scrolling through the options for delivery. Once he settled on something, he placed his order and went about his business until there was a buzz at the intercom.

The restaurant must not have been busy because his food arrived promptly and he buzzed the driver up, paying him and giving a generous tip before closing the door and settling down with his meal and a show for background noise.

His thoughts shifted to you and what you might be having for dinner. Were you eating alone? Were you watching TV? Had you gone on a date? That last thought almost soured his mood but he forced the thought from his mind and dug his phone out of his pocket.

He had a handful of texts from an unknown number and opened the messages.

xxx-xxxx-xxxx: hey. it’s Y/N (: I’d love to get dinner with you. Just say the time and place xxx-xxxx-xxxx: i was on my break but i have to go back now and won’t be able to check my phone xxx-xxxx-xxxx: just let me know! xxx-xxxx-xxxx: hey i just got off and i’m heading home. xxx-xxxx-xxxx: i’m still interested in getting dinner with you sometime

Seonghwa smiled to himself reading your texts before he promptly saved your number to his phone and shot you a few texts back.

Seonghwa: hey sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I just sat down to eat dinner. It was a busy day at the shop Seonghwa: if you’re still interested, i’d love to get dinner some time this week Seonghwa: does this Saturday work for you?

He set his phone aside and resumed eating only for his screen to light up with a new text from you. ‘She responded so fast?’ he thought. ‘Is she eager?’ Or perhaps, like him, she was desperate. Not that he would judge. He would never think of you in a bad way. He knew he was desperate, maybe even pathetic at times, but you? Not you. You were nothing like him.

Y/N: saturday sounds perfect (: what time?

He typed a quick response, trying not to get overly excited by the fact that you wanted to see him too. ‘It’s not that serious,’ he told himself. ‘Down boy.’

Seonghwa: how about 7? I know this Italian place not far from my apartment

He held his phone in his hand, food all but forgotten as he waited for your response which came just as quickly as it had before.

Y/N: sounds perfect! Send me the address and I’ll meet you there

Seonghwa smiled to himself as he typed in the restaurant name and address for you to save before he set his phone down and looked at his forgotten meal, cursing silently as he picked up his utensil and continued eating.

He had a date with you on Saturday at seven pm and he was going to need to be on his best behavior.

After eating, he cleaned up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Since the sweeping incident, he hadn’t been able to calm down and decided it would be best if he just relieved himself in the shower.

It had come down to this plenty of times before, fantasizing about you while he was at work only to have to come home and jerk off so he could settle down and go to sleep. It was like second nature at this point. He had a few fantasies he could relive in moments like these, letting out a sigh as the hot water beat down on him, running down his body as he stood under the stream.

He pushed his hair out of his face, keeping his eyes shut as he let his hands rest on the back of his neck. Taking a deep breath, he let one of his hands wander, sliding down his chest, moving slowly further and further down until the tips of his fingers brushed over his pubic region, stopping to take a deep breath.

Behind his eyelids, he imagined your face, your sweet smile when he would flirt with you, the way you looked away clearly flustered by his attention. The images in his mind shifted to you standing in his kitchen; it wasn’t entirely uncommon for his fantasies to start off with doing something domestic like cooking.

He let out a sigh as his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. In his mind, he had you bent over the counter, panties around your ankles as he guided the tip of his cock to your soaking entrance.

Slowly Seonghwa’s hand moved, stroking himself as he imagined it was your cunt instead that was cripping him tightly. He could almost hear your whimpers as he imagined he was thrusting into your warm, velvety walls instead of into his fist.

“Fuck,” he hissed, chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he continued to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock like he imagined your cunt would as you started to spasm around him. A few more strokes and he let out a stifled moan as he came, ropes of white hitting the shower tile.

He took a few moments to regain his composure before spraying down the tiles, washing away the shame of fantasizing about you. He always felt guilty following this sessions in the shower or in his bed as he imagined fucking you or your mouth but the shame would ebb away and the desire to have you, to corrupt you, would return in full force.

As he continued with the routine of his shower, he wondered what you looked like when you came. Did your eyes roll back as your lips parted in a silent moan?

Did you cry out, tears in the corner of your eyes as you came? He wanted nothing more than to find out, but he had to remind himself to take it slow. He didn’t want to scare you.

‘Baby steps.’

Once he was cleaned, dried, and dressed in his pajamas, Seonghwa entered the den, shutting the doors behind him and moving to set his phone on the wireless charger. He noticed he had another text from you.

Y/N: goodnight Seonghwa (:

He smiled as he sent a text back before putting his phone on Do Not Disturb and set it on the charger. He turned off the light and got into bed, thankfully drifting off to sleep quickly.

As quickly as sleep came, the dreams followed and the next morning, Seonghwa woke up with a raging hard-on and a new fantasy involving the cute barista from his favorite cafe.

After taking a quick shower to relieve himself, Seonghwa got dressed and headed out of the apartment, making his way down the stairs when he checked his pocket to find he was missing his phone. “Damn it,” he cursed softly and headed back up, letting himself into his apartment and grabbing his phone from where he left it in his room.

He checked the screen to see if it was charged and found a few message notifications. He opened the device and smiled as he read the texts from you.

Y/N: good morning Seonghwa Y/N: i hope you slept well! (: Y/N: i can’t wait to see you in the cafe this morning

Seonghwa chuckled, pocketing the phone and headed back out to start making his way to the town square. The whole walk there, he contemplated going to another cafe but felt that might be a little mean. Maybe he just wanted you to long for his presence the way he longed for yours.

The scene in the cafe was the opposite of the previous morning and you were currently camped out by the register, ringing up an order for a small elderly woman. When she paid and stepped aside it was Seonghwa’s turn and he was instantly glad he decided not to visit another cafe.

The smile that spread across your lips and reached to your eyes was even more radiant than any smile he’d seen before. “Good morning,” you said breathlessly and Seonghwa knew it the way you said it was more than a standard employee greeting a customer.

There was a sparkle in your eyes he’d never seen before. Almost a yearning, like you were excited to see him. ‘Cute,’ he told himself as he glanced up at the menu. As if he even needed to.

“The usual?” you asked before he could start order and he smiled at your eagerness to serve him.

Before he could stop it, his mind wandered and he wondered if you were this eager to please in other areas. ‘Don’t do this. Not right now,’ he told himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes please,” he replied, feeling relieved when you looked down to punch in his order.

You told him his total, pressing the button for the card reader yet again, same routine as the day before and he paid by tapping his card against the reader. Once it beeped, you printed off the receipt and set it on a stack after he refused it. You opened the case to get his muffin, a banana nut one, from the second shelf, put it in a paper bag, and handed it to him before getting started on his coffee.

Seonghwa normally busied himself with his phone while you worked but this time, he didn’t look away. Instead he allowed his eyes to wander, taking in your backside. He was eternally grateful the cafe didn’t force you to wear some ugly uniform.

You wore a knee length cream colored dress with a white lace trim peeking out from under the hem. The dress was fitted at the waist, showing off your curves as you worked. The sleeves were short and there was a collared v-neck. The dark brown apron you wore complimented the dress, offering some contrast.

Seonghwa didn’t often take in what you were wearing, but the dress was really pretty on you. He wondered if you always wore clothes like this to work or if you had dressed up for him.

You finished his coffee, placing a lid on it and then sliding the cup into a sleeve before picking up a marker and starting to write on it. He saw you sneak a couple of stickers onto the sleeve before walking over to the pick up counter and set his coffee down.

“One caramel macchiato with white chocolate sauce,” you said softly, almost shyly as he stepped forward to take it.

“Thank you,” he said softly and smiled as you adjusted the ties of your apron that most certainly didn’t need adjusting. “See you later,” Seonghwa said softly, sending you a wink and making his way towards the door, pushing it open with his back and stepping out into the square.

You sighed and watched Seonghwa walk out of the door, crossing the square to the floral shop and watched as he opened the door. “What are you looking at?” Lin asked in your ear and you flinched, turning your gaze away from the windows, grabbing a towel and starting to wipe the counters.

“N-nothing,” you stammered but Lin already saw everything.

“Isn’t that the florist?” they asked. You shrugged, falling silent as you scrubbed at a stubborn spot on the counter.

“He’s pretty handsome,” Lin added as you pretended to be busy.

“Who’s pretty handsome?” a voice asked and you both turned to see Addie standing by the espresso machine, arms crossed as she leaned against the counter. “The florist,” Lin answered before you could stop them. Addie raised an eyebrow, glancing out the cafe windows over at the flower shop before looking back at you.

“What about him?”

“Y/N was sighing and watching him walk away,” Lin said, smirking at you as your cheeks burned and you looked away.

“Sighing?” Addie asked, glancing at you. “Oh no, is Y/N in love?” she asked, a slight teasing tone in her voice.

You rolled your eyes, setting the rag under the counter and started to walk away.

“I hate you guys,” you muttered, but you in fact did not hate them. A fact they were well aware of.

Throughout your shift, you sent texts to Seonghwa and he replied when he could. You could see people going in and out of the shop all day, some leaving with large bouquets and others with small ones or single flowers. Business was clearly booming, or was it blooming?

While you were waiting for your shift to end, you decided to pull up the restaurant Seonghwa had suggested, something you should have done yesterday when he first brought it up but it slipped your mind. He had mentioned it was an Italian place and the menu looked good.

As the day wore on, you were getting more and more excited for your date with the handsome florist.

Saturday, for you, could not come fast enough.

——————————————————

For Seonghwa, Saturday came much too fast and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. The fantasies starring you had increased in frequency and he was finding it harder (no pun intended) to not pop a boner at the mere thought of you. He needed to learn to control himself.

He stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the cuff of his black shirt as he looked over his appearance, seeing if anything was out of place. He took a deep breath and gave his reflection a nod before moving to grab his coat, sliding it on. From the counter, he retrieved his keys, wallet, and phone, pocketing the items as he walked over to the door, slipping on his shoes, and let himself out into the hall.

The ride in the small old elevator down to the main floor took a few minutes from his apartment on the top floor and soon he was walking through the empty lobby, footsteps echoing against the walls as he crossed the tile floor to the front door.

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t a long one and he hoped it wasn’t too far for you either. He didn’t know exactly where you lived, he just knew you always turned left at the main road when walking home and he always went right.

The restaurant had opened up recently in a newly renovated building of connected shops. Seonghwa had seen it in passing a couple times and now that the opportunity to go on a date had presented itself, he figured it would be the perfect time to check it out, and who better to experience it with than the person who occupied almost all his thoughts.

Seonghwa arrived after a brisk walk, pulling the door open and then holding it for two people exiting. He stepped inside, approaching the host stand where a young woman with shoulder length brown hair wearing a plain black tee, black slacks stood.

She smiled up at him as he approached.

“Hi, just one?” she asked, grabbing a menu.

“Uh, two actually. I have a reservation,” Seonghwa answered.

She smiled, setting the menu down and opening the book. “Name?” she asked, picking up a black pen and scanning the sheet.

“Park,” he answered, waiting for her to find his name.

“You’re a little early,” she noted, checking the time. “I can mark you down and when your table opens up, I can send you a text,” she offered, looking up.

“I think I’ll just sit at the bar,” he said, watching as he scribbled something down on the page.

“Alright,” she said, smiling as she clicked the pen. “I’ll let you know when a table opens up.”

Seonghwa thanked her and made his way over to the bar, catching the bartender’s attention as he took a seat. The bartender, a man who seemed to be around his age, set a napkin in front of him. “What can I get you?” he asked. Seonghwa glanced at the glass bottles that lined a shelf behind him.

“Could I get a whiskey, neat?” he asked, looking back at the bartender who nodded and turned to open the case with the chilled glasses. Seonghwa took the opportunity to shrug out of his coat and look around as he unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs.

He had expected the restaurant to have a more modern feel but instead of a clean and sterile environment, the textured wallpaper was a cream colored, contrasting with the dark warm wood floors and accents. The tables were all round, covered in white tablecloth. The larger tables were in the middle with white cushioned chairs to accommodate 6 people. Along the windowed walls were smaller tables for two to three people.

Seonghwa turned back as the bartender returned, setting his drink in front of him. Seonghwa thanked him and pulled his wallet out to pay but the bartender declined. “First one’s on the house,” he said with a smile and walked away to go about his duties.

Seonghwa picked up the glass, swirling the amber-colored liquid before raising the glass to his lips and tilting his head back. The burn of the alcohol brought him out of his own swirling thoughts and he let out a small sigh as he set the glass down and waited, hoping you were on your way.

You glanced at your reflection for what felt like the millionth time since putting on your dress.

You’d opted for a white fitted one, which was a bold choice given that you were going to an Italian restaurant. You had gone back and forth on what to wear, trying to decide between a black dress and the white one you were currently sporting.

You checked the time and cursed. If you wanted to get to the restaurant on time, you needed to leave now. Rushing through your apartment, you grabbed your small clutch, putting your wallet, phone, and lip gloss into it and heading for the door where you slipped into your heels, a simple black heel with red bottoms. They had been a gift from your parents upon finishing school and you saved them for special occasions.

Once your coat was on, you headed out of your apartment, locking the door and heading down the stairs and out the front door.

You made the short walk to the bus station, opting to take the bus since you were wearing heels. The restaurant was only down the road from your building but you’d rather not kill your feet and thankfully, the bus showed up only moments later.

You boarded, pulling out your transport card and scanning it before picking a seat behind the driver and keeping your eyes down. You didn’t often take the bus but when you did, you always felt like a million eyes were on you. Of course this wasn’t true, no one was even paying any attention to you.

You really needed to stop reading and listening to r/no sleep and r/lets not meet stories.

The ride to the restaurant was uneventful and as the bus pulled up to the nearest stop, you stood up, briefly adjusting the hem of your dress and thanking the driver before heading for the steps, descending them carefully until your feet met the pavement.

The stop wasn’t too far from the restaurant but you still needed to walk to make it there. You felt mildly subconscious about the people you passed, but you knew that was your anxiety speaking, assuming people were looking at you like you were some kind of main character in a story.

‘This isn’t wattpad, Y/N,’ you told yourself. ‘No one is even looking at you. Wait, no, that’s not true. That guy just looked.’

You offered a polite smile at the man you passed as he looked you up and down and you instantly regretted everything you’d ever done in your life. ‘Great, he probably thinks you’re some kind of streetwalker. Not that there’s anything wrong with prostitution—’

‘Oh shut up,’ another voice told you in the back of your mind.

You looked up as you approached the restaurant and opened the door, stepping into the warm, cozy setting, a low hum as people chatted at low volume over their meals, sharing wine, appetizers, and no doubt gossip. You looked around briefly, taking in the cream-colored wallpaper, dark warm wood floors, and round white cloth covered tables.

The hostess looked up at you, smiling. She was cute and short, her chocolate brown hair cut into a shoulder-length bob. She wore a black tee shirt with cap sleeves and black slacks. She smiled up at you as you pulled your phone out to check to see if Seonghwa had texted you.

“Can I help you?” the hostess asked, drawing your attention away from your screen that had no missed notifications.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone,” you explained as you moved closer to the host stand to allow people to pass you.

“Did you have a reservation?” the hostess asked. You noticed a black rectangular name tag with gold lettering that read her name was Jess.

“Uh, I’m not sure, actually,” you said. “I have a date and he didn’t tell me if he made a reservation. Could I look around and see if he’s here already?”

Jess smiled and nodded, returning her attention to the guest book in front of her as your eyes swept the room. It wasn’t large but it was certainly cozy. Three clear glass vases of different heights sat in the middle of each table with floating tealights. The overhead lighting was recessed into the ceiling and dimmed to create a more warm and inviting atmosphere.

Your eyes swept over the patrons until you reached the bar and your heart skipped a beat.

‘He’s here. He’s actually here.’

You noticed Seonghwa sitting at the bar, his jacket slung over the back of his stool as he nursed a class of what you could assume was whiskey based on the color. You turned to Jess. “I found him,” you announced softly. “He’s at the bar.”

Jess looked up and followed your line of sight before smiling. “Ahh, him,” she said, glancing at the guest book. “Your table should be ready in a few minutes,” she added, looking back up at you.

“Thank you,” you said before making your way over to the bar, heart hammering in your chest with each stride.

Seonghwa had certainly dressed up, making you glad you had as well. Most of the patrons in the restaurant had dressed up and you felt like you didn’t stand out too much. You cleared your throat as you stopped beside Seonghwa and he looked up.

His face lit up as he took in your form. “You made it,” he said as you set your bag on the bar and climbed up into the stool next to him. “What’re you drinking?” he asked. You glanced at the bar and took notice of all the alcohol bottles.

“Oh it’s fine,” you finally said. “I don’t really drink,” you added.

Seonghwa smiled and nodded. “Well, if you’d like a non-alcoholic cocktail, order whatever you’d like,” he said as he lifted his glass, downing the rest of his drink. As he set the glass down and nodded to the bartender, you decided maybe one drink wouldn’t be so bad.

If anything, it might help you loosen up. Your shoulders felt tense and you knew it was because you were nervous. You were here, at this upscale Italian restaurant, with quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. For some reason, he’d asked you out.

“Actually,” you started as the bartender set a new drink in front of your date. Seonghwa looked up to meet your gaze.

“Maybe a glass of wine,” you suggested. Seonghwa looked up at the bartender.

“What options do you have?” he asked.

“Something red and semi-sweet,” you added. The bartender nodded and moved to get your glass.

“You like semi-sweet reds?” Seonghwa asked, his lips pulled into an uneven smirk.

You nodded. “Yeah, I like a lot of dolce wines,” you admitted. “I don’t drink often, but when I do, it’s usually something like Roscato — rosso dolce,” you added. Seonghwa chuckled under his breath as he picked up his drink and took a sip. The bartender returned with your glass of wine and set it in front of you.

“Did I say something funny?” you asked, pulling the glass of wine closer. Seonghwa shook his head.

“No, not funny,” he explained. “It’s just a coincidence. A friend of mine asked me for the name of a wine we tried at a restaurant on my last trip to visit him and it was Roscato,” he continued, looking up to meet your gaze. “Rosso dolce,” he added.

Your lips parted and you let out a short, soft laugh. “Oh,” you replied as you raised your glass.

“That is a coincidence.”

An hour later, you were sitting at a small table in the corner by the last window, having shared some appetizer whose name you couldn’t pronounce and an empty bowl of spaghetti aglio e olio sitting before you as Seonghwa looked at the dessert menu. “Do you want to try the tiramisu?” Seonghwa asked as you took a sip of your third glass of wine.

“Do you want to share it?” you offered.

Seonghwa glanced up at you, an amused look in his eye, like some unspoken joke that only he seemed to be privy to. “Sure,” he finally answered, looking back down at the menu and allowing you to breathe easier.

The server finally returned and Seonghwa asked for a tiramisu to split as you finished your glass.

“Would you like more wine, miss?” the server asked and you contemplated for a moment and then nodded.

Before the server could walk away, Seonghwa stopped him. “Could you bring another glass and the rest of the bottle, please?” he asked. The server nodded and walked away to put in your order.

You stared at him as he took a sip of his water. “The whole bottle?” you asked, biting back the urge to laugh.

Seonghwa shrugged. “I’m sure there’s only a couple more glasses left in that bottle anyway,” he said, the tone of his voice teasing.

“So,” you started, catching Seonghwa’s attention. “Flowers?” you asked.

He smiled, chuckling light as he shook his head.

“Don’t tell me you think it’s weird,” he said softly and your smile faded.

“What?” you asked softly. “No. I think it’s great actually.”

Seonghwa looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s refreshing to meet a guy who’s into flowers. Not a lot of guys know the difference between the meaning of a red rose and a yellow one,” you added, smiling when Seonghwa stifled a laugh.

“Have you had a guy buy you yellow roses?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and he went into another fit of giggles. “Yellow roses… my god.”

When his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat. “I’ve always loved flowers,” he explained.

“My parents loved gardening,” he continued. “It was a normal part of my childhood. I learned about caring for and growing flowers and the language of flowers at a young age. I’ve always been surrounded by gardening.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm as he spoke, a smile on your lips.

“When I was a teenager, I actually wanted to be an athlete,” he added, absentmindedly playing with the rim of his empty whiskey glass. “I fell in love with volleyball and wanted to pursue it in college. I actually even started pursuing volleyball at the collegiate level,” he continued.

A smile crossed his face as he reminisced. “I met some of my best friends playing volleyball,” he added.

His smile fell slightly, no doubt a painful memory coming to the forefront of his mind.

“And then my grandmother died.”

Your smile fell and you felt your heart tug. You reached across the table with your free hand, placing it over his. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. Seonghwa smiled, moving his hand under yours to take your hand in his.

“It’s been a long time,” he started. “But thank you.”

He held your hand as he continued his story.

“Her death made me rediscover a passion and appreciation for flowers,” he continued. “We had the most beautiful arrangements at her funeral. It made me think ‘I could do that. I could make floral arrangements.’ So, I did.”

“I went back to school, changed my major, and started taking flower arranging classes. I got my degree in business administration and started arranging flowers in my parents’ house until I had saved enough to purchase a store front.”

You watched him speak, a certain fondness in your heart as he talked so earnestly. “I also chose to move from the city and I found this place while looking, falling in love with the small town atmosphere. I love being able to walk to everything like I did in the city but there aren’t as many people here,” he added.

“I’ve been here and had my shop for four years now and I wouldn’t change a single thing about my life,” he finished, looking up at you with a smile on his face.

You opened your mouth to respond but the server returned at that moment, setting a single slice of tiramisu down before he set down another wine glass and the opened bottle of wine. “Anything else I can get you?” he asked, looking between the two of you as Seonghwa lifted the bottle.

“No, thank you,” Seonghwa answered, glancing at you as he started to pour some wine into the new glass with a wink.

The server took that as his cue to leave, allowing Seonghwa to sit up straight and pour wine into your glass. You thanked him and looked down at the dessert. “Have you ever had tiramisu?” Seonghwa asked as he picked up his fork. You shook your head.

“Well, I’ve had those store made ones, nothing like this though,” you replied, picking up your own dessert fork.

“Ladies first,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the cake.

You glanced at it and back to him. “No, it’s okay, you can have the first bite,” you offered. Seonghwa chuckled lightly, taking his fork and slicing off a corner of the cake.

He brought it up and moved the fork towards you. “I insist,” he said softly. Your cheeks grew warm at the show of affection. You’d never been on a date where someone fed you and it felt exceedingly intimate.

And you liked it.

You parted your lips, allowing Seonghwa to guide the fork into your mouth. You’d had tiramisu before but this was unlike anything you’d had. It tasted like heaven. You swallowed, acutely aware of Seonghwa’s gaze on your face.

“It’s good,” you said softly.

Seonghwa’s eyes darted down to your lips before he reached up with his free hand, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You had some cream,” he muttered, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking off the cream. The cream that had been on your lip.

You were suddenly overcome with the urge to smear cream all over your lips if it meant he would clean it off with his tongue.

‘Whoa,’ you thought to yourself as you took another bite of cake with your own fork. ‘Where did that come from?’

“Can I ask you something?” you said suddenly, looking up to meet Seonghwa’s curious gaze.

“Of course,” he said, licking his lips and taking a sip of his wine.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” you asked.

Seonghwa hesitated as he contemplated his answer before smiling, a soft chuckle escaping him.

“White lilies,” he answered. You felt your lips pull into a smile.

“White lilies?” you asked as you took another bite of the tiramisu. Seonghwa nodded, watching as you licked your lips. “Why?”

He set his fork down and leaned forward, resting his hand on his knuckles, fixing you with a knowing smirk only he seemed to be the only one in the know.

“I think white lilies are pretty. Lilies in general are very beautiful flowers. The splayed open petals, the way they curl back and the various colors. Tiger lilies are also very beautiful but there’s just something about the white ones,” he explained.

You took another bite. “What do white lilies mean,” you asked suddenly, looking up at him, “in the language of flowers?”

Seonghwa fixed you with a peculiar look. His expression hardened slightly and you feared for a moment that you’d upset him but as quickly as his expression changed, it shifted again.

“Purity and chastity,” Seonghwa answered. Your cheeks grew warm under the gaze he was giving you. Something had snapped in him and the look he was giving you now was sending chills up your spine, a surge of arousal pulsing through your body and you had to physically force yourself to look away.

‘Purity and chastity, huh?’

Between the two of you, the cake vanished in no time and you polished off the bottle of wine not long after with small talk about the food, the setting, and work.

“So,” you said as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, Seonghwa following. You tied your coat closed and looked down the street towards the bus stop. “Wait,” you said, checking the time. ‘Oh. Oh no.’

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling your heart sink.

“What?” Seonghwa asked.

“I missed the last bus,” you said, mentally facepalming yourself for being so absentminded.

“I could walk you,” Seonghwa offered.

You smiled up at him. “It’s not that,” you explained, glancing down at your feet.

Seonghwa followed your line of sight and noticed the shoes. “Oh,” he said softly before looking around.

“Well, we could walk,” he suggested as he slipped his hands into his coat pocket. “And if your feet start to hurt, I could always carry you,” he added with a smile. You let out a laugh and looked down the street towards your place.

“Okay,” you said softly. Seonghwa offered his arm, keeping his hand in his pocket and you took the offer, slipping your hand between his arm and side and started to walk with him.

“I didn’t say it sooner,” he started as you walked, the sounds behind you starting to die down as you walked away from the line of shops. “But you look gorgeous.”

Your cheeks started to heat up at his compliment and you nibbled on your bottom lip. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Silence fell over the two of you as you walked down the street, but it was a comfortable silence. You wondered what he was thinking and where things would go from here. Would he walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight? Would he want to come in? Did you want him to come in?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Seonghwa’s voice.

“How’re your feet doing?” he asked, his tone light.

You smiled, glancing up at him. “They’re okay,” you replied.

“Are you sure?” he asked, slowing to a stop.

“I could still carry you.”

You laughed softly, lightly hitting his arm and continued walking. “Actually,” you said, stopping and letting go of his arm to lean down and carefully remove your shoes. “I’ll just go barefoot.”

Seonghwa chuckled as you collected your shoes and stood upright. Seonghwa held out his hand and your heart skipped a beat. “Let me carry them for you,” he said. You were about to protest but he took them anyway before offering his arm again.

You thanked him softly and the two of you continued walking. “Better?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, the cool pavement felt good against your feet that were starting to ache and burn from wearing the pumps.

“Much,” you replied.

The walk didn’t take too long and soon, you were climbing the steps to your apartment building.

You turned to Seonghwa and smiled, taking back your shoes. “Thank you,” you said, carefully putting your shoes back on. Seonghwa smiled at you, hands tucked into his pockets. Silence filled the space between you before you spoke, apparently at the same time as Seonghwa.

“Do you want to come up?”

“I should probably get going.”

You felt your heart sink slightly. ‘Oh.’

“I’d love to,” Seonghwa started. “But I have a lot of stuff to get done tomorrow.”

You nodded, watching as his eyes dipped to look at your lips and back up. ‘Yes. Please just kiss me.’

You started to lean in only for Seonghwa to clear his throat. “I’ll wait for you to go in.”

‘...what?’

“O-okay,” you said softly, turning to put the code to your building in. Once the door was opened, you turned to Seonghwa. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up?” you asked softly.

Seonghwa smiled. “Another time,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.

That seemed to calm your nerves, but you were still put off that he didn’t even want to kiss you goodnight. This was the first time a man hadn’t tried to get himself invited to your apartment.

“Well,” you hesitated. “Goodnight?”

Seonghwa nodded, a smile still on his lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You made your way inside and up the steps to your door, unlocking and letting yourself in. As you removed your coat and shoes, you felt as if in a daze. You walked over to the kitchen to get a glass of water, chugging half of it as you stared at the wall before turning to face the rest of your apartment, holding the half empty glass to your chest as the realization dawned on you.

“What the fuck?”

Seonghwa arrived home and immediately hopped into the shower to relieve the erection he’d been sporting for the last two hours since you walked into the restaurant. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him. Had you worn the white, form fitting dress on purpose?

If so, why? It was like you were unknowingly torturing him.

The way the dress hugged your curves, the hem reaching to the middle of your thighs. The sweetheart neckline accentuating your bust, showing off your collar. Multiple times Seonghwa had fought the urge to drag you to the bathroom and bend you over the sink, eager to stuff you full of his painfully hard cock.

He let out a hiss, dropping his head as his hand moved over his cock quickly, imagining you kneeling in front of him in that white dress. “Fuck,” he cursed, his orgasm washing over him under the hot stream of water as he imagined releasing on your chest instead of on the shower wall.

He was growing tired of this. Coming home almost every day after interacting with you to relieve himself in the shower just so he could go about the rest of his evening. He was going to have to do something about it eventually. Whether that be finally sleeping with you or finding release elsewhere, he couldn’t fully satisfy his urges with masturbation alone anymore.

He quickly cleaned off the shower wall and himself before drying off and getting ready for bed.

As he lay in the sheets, he cursed himself for not taking your offer to go up to your place but he knew if he had, it might have been too much for you and he refused to do anything that would frighten you. No, if he was going to sleep with you, he was going to need to take it slowly.

You deserved much more than that.

Sleep didn’t come easily to him that night and he continued to toss and turn throughout the night until he finally settled into restless slumber.

The next morning, he had a plethora of chores to get done, trying to keep himself occupied as he got through them one at a time.

Each time your face invaded his thoughts, he cursed himself for saying no but ultimately he knew it was the right thing to do. Regardless of how much he wanted you, he wouldn’t give that easily into his primal desires. No, he had to do this the right way.

And he would.

——————————————————

Work for Seonghwa had gotten hectic over the next few days, booking events and preparing for a large wedding he’d booked a few months prior. He’d spent a lot of free time in the shop, cultivating the white flowers he had in stock and had been growing specifically for the wedding.

It was tedious work that kept his hands busy but his mind still wandered.

He hadn’t been in the cafe as often as before and he felt bad about that, hoping you weren’t taking it as a sign he wasn’t interested. He always made sure to let you know his interest was still there when he did visit and he couldn’t help but enjoy the way your face lit up every time you found him standing at your counter.

The innocence in your expression was the reason he was distancing himself but at the same time, it was what drew him in. The need to corrupt you and mold you to his fantasies. He knew it was wrong. You weren’t some art medium to bend and shape. You were a person with your own feelings and interests. He knew that and that’s why he had to be good.

He had to behave.

For the fifth time that morning since visiting the cafe, he shoved thoughts of you aside as he worked, pruning and clipping. He couldn’t afford to be distracted with thoughts of you right now. He needed to fucking focus and he couldn’t do that when all he could think about was you on your back —

“Enough already!” he snapped, slamming down the shears in his hand against the work table. He stepped back, running his fingers through his hair and taking a few deep breaths.

Oh, you were going to be the death of him for sure.

It had been almost two weeks since your date with Seonghwa and the aftermath was nothing short of strange. Through text he seemed perfectly normal and when he came into the cafe, he was the same as he’d ever been, flirting with you every time.

At least up until a few days leading up to where you were now.

The last couple days, his texts fell off or were short and you feared the worst.

He’d taken you on a date and hated it.

You kept replaying the date in your mind and couldn’t exactly pinpoint any moment that might have put him off. Had you done something? Said something?

As you mulled over everything, it dawned on you that whatever it was, it had to have happened after you left the restaurant. He wouldn’t have fed you like that if he wasn’t into you, right? Like, not everyone did shit like that.

You thought maybe you taking your shoes off was what turned him off but then he offered to carry your shoes like some lead actor in a Korean drama. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you still? So from that to reaching your door, what could have happened?

You scribbled on a blank notepad as you thought over it again and again until your brain hurt and you slammed the pen on your desk. You covered your face with your hands, pressing your palms into your eyes until stars appeared behind your eyelids.

You groaned loudly and let out a frustrated growl.

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” you hissed, dropping your hands into your lap and looked down at your desk, blinking away the stars. You glanced at the clock beside you that read 12:01 am and decided to call it a night and pushed your chair back. “Fuck this,” you grumbled as you turned off the desk light and made your way to your bedroom.

You had work in the morning and you couldn’t spend any more time on this tonight.

Letting out a sigh, you looked across the small square at the flower shop. The open sign was off, indicating that the show wasn’t open which was unusual for Seonghwa. He rarely ever closed the shop and you feared that maybe he might be sick or even worse. Unfortunately, you were currently on the clock and couldn’t leave the shop. Not to mention it was busier than one person could handle so you really couldn’t leave, even for a short break to check the shop and see how Seonghwa was doing.

“Y/N?” a voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

You turned to your co-worker, an apologetic smile on your face. “Sorry, Addie, I’m really out of it today.” Addie gave you a small smile, knowing you weren’t normally like this and for you to be distracted, something really had to be wrong.

“You know,” she said softly, approaching you as she stopped sweeping. “If something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me.”

You offered as sincere a smile as you could muster. “Thanks, Addie,” you replied. “I’m okay though. Just lost in thought is all.”

You’d die before you told her what those thoughts were.

Sure, you were partially worried about Seonghwa but part of you was lingering on what could have happened the other day. The night after your date. The night you had expected him to come into your place but instead he left you standing on your front step with not even a kiss goodbye. You had spent part of the night wondering if you’d done something wrong. The other part of the night you had spent wondering what might have happened had Seonghwa kissed you and came in like you planned on inviting him to do.

To say you wanted him was a downright understatement. You needed him. There was just something so incredibly sexy about him. Something romantic as well, and as demonstrated by the date you shared. But under all of the sweetness, the sex appeal, there was something more dangerous and yet you couldn’t put your finger on it exactly. You just knew Seonghwa was everything and more you wanted in a man and you needed him in the worst way possible.

To distract yourself, you chose to take orders while Addie fulfilled them. Talking to the customers and ringing up their orders didn’t take much brain power but it still kept your mind from wandering, especially at work which was a dangerous combination when the object of your current fantasies was across the square in his closed shop, working diligently on a large order.

Seonghwa had been working tirelessly on this order for a wedding. It was coming up, he’d booked the order months ago as was common practice for weddings. He had centerpieces, bouquets, and other floral decorations and arrangements to make and it had been taking up most of his time since the date which allowed him the time to focus on something other than his intense primal desire to bend you over the counter of his shop and rail you into next week.

Ever since leaving you on the doorstep to your place without even a goodnight kiss, he’d been beating himself up but he knew that if he had kissed you, it would have led to more and while he did want that, god did he want that, he didn’t want to scare you away. He wanted — no — he needed you in the worst ways possible but he couldn’t scare you off like that. Not when he wanted to do things to you he only ever dreamt of and dream he did.

That night and almost every night since, he’s dreamt up different ways to take you. In his shop, in the cafe when all others have gone home for the night, in his bed, in his kitchen, on the counter, everywhere. All he could think of was you, you, you. In every position possible. On your back, on your knees, on your stomach. He wanted to corrupt you so badly that you’d never want to be with another person but him.

It invaded his every waking moment and sometimes even work couldn’t stop the fantasies.

He was a man obsessed and his obsession could scare you away and he didn’t want that. You deserved more. You deserved to be courted, properly, but goddamnit all if he didn’t want to say fuck the rules, and just do what he wanted but you were far too precious. Too pure. His white lily.

He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. Not to you.

He would do this the right way. He had to.

Seonghwa cursed as he poked his finger with yet another boutonniere pin, dropping the small bundle of flowers onto the work table and moving to clean the prick which started bleeding. These damn things would be the end of him. Why couldn’t he just use clips instead of fucking straight pins? ‘Outrageous.’

Once he cleaned the tip of his finger and it had stopped bleeding, he put a bandaid on it. He had twelve of these damn things to make. Who the hell has twelve groomsmen? At least the corsages were easy. Seonghwa picked up the boutonniere and started working again, cursing yet again when he stabbed himself. He groaned loudly, grateful he’d closed the shop for a few days to work on this order.

It was going to be a long night.

You called out a goodbye to your coworker as you headed out the front door. As you entered the mainly empty courtyard, you chanced a glance over at the floral shop. A single light from the back was flooding into the shop but the open sign remained flipped, as it had been all day.

‘So he is in there,’ you thought as you hiked the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, trying not to wallow in the doubt and self-pity swirling in the pit of your stomach. Why hasn't he answered your texts? You were certain he’d seen them or at least you hoped he had. His read receipts were off so you couldn’t be exactly sure if he had seen them.

The walk home took longer than usual due to your preoccupied state. You’d almost run into someone at least three times, muttering an apology before hurrying on your way. Thankfully you made it home without further incident. Upon looking at the stoop to your front door, memories of that night came flooding back, when Seonghwa took you on what was probably the nicest date you’d ever been on only to leave you hanging at your front door.

As you climbed the steps, you fished out your keys and unlocked the door, letting yourself in. Stepping over the mail sitting on your welcome rug, you shut the door, locked it, and removed your shoes before bending down and grabbing the pile of envelopes.

You shuffled through them as you stood by the door before removing your coat, hanging it up and heading into the kitchen where you set your bag and keys on the counter and continued to look through your mail. Most of it was bills, advertisements, and a few card companies offering their services that you immediately tossed in the trash bin until a plain white envelope with a noticeable handwritten script caught your attention.

You set the rest of the mail down and looked over the one in your hands. Your name was written on the front but nothing else. No address and more importantly no return sender was listed. You hesitated, briefly remembering about mail bombs but snorted, amused at yourself for even considering a notion.

Why would someone send you a bomb?

You grabbed a knife from the nearby block and slit open the envelope, setting the knife on the counter and pulling out a few folded sheets of paper from inside. There weren't many pages, maybe just a few, but you opened them, reading the first line of the first page and felt your heart skip a beat.

Your breaths came out in ragged pants as you read through the letter, rereading a couple parts. Even though it was just words on paper, you could imagine the depth of his longing as he wrote the words. You let out a sigh of relief. He was just busy with work but he also didn’t want to scare you off, whatever that meant.

It made you wonder just what he could possibly mean.

‘I can be kind of intense at times.’ Intense how?

You carefully folded up the letter and placed the pages back into the envelope and set it down on the counter. “Saturday,” you whispered, checking the calendar hanging on the wall above your trash bin. That was only a few days away. Should you tell him you got his letter? Should you just show up?

You contemplated with yourself, the soft ticking of the clock on your wall punctuating the silence. You grabbed your bag, dug for your phone and pulled the device out, unlocking the screen and pulling up your message thread with Seonghwa.

You nibbled at your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth and mulling over what to say before settling with a simple text.

You: I got your letter. I agree, I think we should talk face to face.

You pressed send before sending another one immediately after.

You: I’ll see you Saturday

You pressed send and set your phone down, breathing heavily as you stared at the screen.

The typing indicator appeared quickly and a reply came through just as fast. You peered down at the phone, reading the message Seonghwa had sent back.

Seonghwa: Saturday then 💮

When Seonghwa had dropped the unmarked letter through your mail slot the other morning, he never expected you to text him though he wasn’t complaining. At least he knew he hadn’t scared you off with the letter or with his words. He now only had to face you. He’d finished the last of the floral arrangements for the wedding last night and was currently in the van, making his way to the venue across town.

This wedding was a huge event. It was being held at an old rustic farm turned into an event venue. The roads were paved up until the turn onto the dirt road. Thankfully Seonghwa was only providing the flowers and not the containers. The venue had all of that.

Turning off the dirty farm road and onto the paved winding driveway made him breathe a little easier as he checked the time 11:41 am. He was well on time and would have from now until three to help set up and get all the arrangements in their designated vases and places.

Afterwards, he could focus on what he wanted to say to you on the drive back.

The farmhouse came into view and Seonghwa let out a small huff. It was much prettier in person than it had been on the website. The house itself was an off white color with dark midnight blue shutters. The front door was the same dark blue with a porch wrapping around the bottom level.

The entire house was three levels. All the windows looked like the original ones and it was clear to him that someone had spent a lot of time and money to renovate this place, putting a lot of care into it. He continued up the winding driveway, noticing the white barn standing some yards from the main house. There were white and silver balloons lining the last 20 or so feet of the drive.

Seonghwa carefully pulled up beside the house and parked the van before opening the door and getting out. He saw a lot of people working, carrying tables, chairs, bundles of fabric with silk bows. Some were dressed in uniforms and some in dresses and button downs with slacks. Seonghwa looked around for someone in charge before he saw a woman carrying a clipboard and directing three people carrying a large round table.

He approached her, calling out and catching her attention. She was a shorter woman, maybe around his mother’s age. She wore a nice light pink dress suit and wore black thin framed glasses. She eyed him up and down, lifting her glasses to get a better look.

“Can I help you?” she asked, polite but clearly in a hurry.

“I’m the florist,” Seonghwa announced. “I have the arrangements and just need to know where to go.

The look on her face shifted from annoyed to beaming in a split second and it took all of Seonghwa’s willpower not to burst into laughter.

“Oh perfect, you’re right on time!” she exclaimed. “We’re setting the ceremony up in the house.”

Seonghwa nodded and moved to follow her so she could show him exactly where everything went. She pointed at the planters marking the end of the aisle where the bride would enter.

“And then we have a fridge to keep the pieces for the reception fresh,” she added pointing to the kitchen area. “Do you need assistance?” she asked, turning to look up at him.

Seonghwa nodded. “It’s just me, so any help would be greatly appreciated.” The woman, who Seonghwa assumed to be the planner, called over to two people, beckoning them over.

“Would you please help this young man with the flowers,” she asked. The two nodded and followed Seonghwa out to the van.

“I have everything labeled,” Seonghwa explained as he fished his keys out. “Centerpieces, boutonnieres, corsages, bouquets, and the large pieces are for the planters inside,” he continued as they reached the back of the van and he unlocked the doors.

Unloading the flowers wasn’t an arduous task especially since Seonghwa took it upon himself to label everything. It was just a matter of moving them inside and then separating the floral arrangements. “Here is the bride’s bouquet,” he said, unwrapping the plastic from the stems and turning to the planner.

“I have twelve more,” he added, nodding towards the counter where twelve smaller bouquets lay alongside the corsages.

“And the boutonnieres?” the planner asked as she scribbled on her clipboard.

“All here,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the counter. “Twelve boutonnieres with pins. Stabbed myself a fair bit making those,” he added with a chuckle. The woman did not laugh.

‘Tough crowd.’

Once everything was accounted for, Seonghwa helped set up the arrangements for the ceremony, placing the large bouquets in the planters, delivering the bouquets and corsages to the bridal suite, accepting the compliments from the bridesmaids and bride herself who was in stark contrast from the planner, extremely sweet and thankful. The last duty he had was to deliver the boutonnieres to the groomsmen and groom which was a far more lackluster affair than delivering to the bridal suite.

Once he was done, he started down the steps and over to the planner to secure the final payment. He’d agreed to take the payment in installments. First was the deposit followed by the first payment and now he needed the final payment. He cleared his throat as she finished speaking with one of the venue owners and she turned to him. “All flowers accounted for and delivered,” he said softly. The wedding planner stared at him blankly before he sighed.

“The final payment?” he said in a hushed voice. The planner’s eyes widened before she nodded.

“Right,” she said quietly. “Of course.”

She beckoned him to follow her and led him through the house and out one of the many side doors. Seonghwa followed her down the steps and over towards the barn where a man in a suit stood, talking to a few others.

The planner waved him over and discussed the topic of payment and the man nodded, pulling out his wallet. Seonghwa thanked him as the last installment was made and thanked the planner as they walked back towards the house. With his job done, Seonghwa got back in the van, taking a quick look behind to make sure nothing got left before backing up and making his way back to the dirt road.

He had about an hour until he got back to town and another 20 before he got to the shop. He checked the clock on the dash to see the time was now 2:30 pm. Time sure does fly.

Now it was just him and his thoughts until then.

You glanced at your watch. It was 4:07 pm and Seonghwa was nowhere to be found. It was only seven minutes past four so you weren’t going to just turn around and go home. You’d give him another few minutes before you called it.

He had said any time after four and it was after four. You pulled out your phone to see if he’d called and you maybe missed it but there was nothing. No calls, no texts except the one from the other day. The day you’d gotten the letter.

Seonghwa: Saturday then 💮

You sighed as a breeze blew through the square, pulling your coat tighter around your body. ‘Come on, Seonghwa,’ you thought as you looked around. You glanced down, inspecting your outfit as a leaf landed on your knee, clinging to the material of your stocking.

It had been unseasonably cold for spring and all leaves and flowers that have been trying to grow have had a hard time braving the elements as winter tried to hold on. New green leaves quickly withered and died, the temperatures not staying warm long enough to nurture the growth.

Cherry blossoms hadn’t even sprouted due to the cooler temperatures and rainy weather. Spring was always among your favorite times of the year but sometimes, it just didn’t feel like spring and felt more like autumn or even winter at times.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door next to where you were sitting opened, the bell ringing and making you jump and turn to find Seonghwa looking at you with as much surprise as you felt. You had expected him to come to the front door, not from inside the store.

“Sorry,” he said immediately as you stood up, smoothing down your skirt. “Got held up by a sheep jam of all things,” he added with a smirk before noticing your cold-tinged face, his smile immediately falling. “Oh, have you been waiting long?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said breathlessly.

‘Liar. It’s been almost 30 minutes.’

Seonghwa checked his watch and then looked up and smiled at you.

“Here,” he said softly, gesturing for you to enter.

You crossed the threshold, the warmth of the shop offering you sanctuary from the plummeting temperatures. Seonghwa shut the door, turning the lock in place before turning to look at you. “So you, uh, got my letter?” he asked as he led the way through the shop.

“Yeah,” you murmured, following him into the backroom of the shop. You’d never seen this part of his shop before and it was like something out of a romance movie.

The room was rectangular with a short wall against the shop. The walls were lined with tiered planter boxes, built into the wooden wall, an array of flowers growing in each box, various colors and species. The back wall faced the forested area behind the shops. Glass windows dominated the wall allowing in as much natural light as possible.

In the middle of the room stood a butcher block work table with various tools for cutting, pruning, gardening, and what you assumed was flower arranging. The wall that the room shared with the main shop room had built-in-storage drawers under another flat wooden surface with various fertilizers, soil bags, and gardening solutions.

Hanging up next to the work table by the doorway was a garden hose, coiled and hanging neatly on its hanger, one end connected to a spigot and the other with a hose attachment. Seonghwa walked over to the work table in the center of the room and started cleaning up.

“I had some last minute adjustments to make before I delivered the order for the wedding,” he explained as he used a small hand brush to sweep any dirt, petals, and other debris off the table and onto the floor.

“I didn’t have a chance to clean up before I left, so I just want to get this swept up and then we can talk, if that’s okay?” he asked, glancing up at you as you removed your coat and hung it along with your bag up by the door next to his.

“I don’t mind,” you said as you grabbed a broom and walked over. “As long as you let me help you.”

Seonghwa gave you a soft smile and nodded, silently thanking you as you started to sweep up, collecting all the dirt, petals, leaves, and other debris from around the room while he gathered his tools, cleaned them and put them away. You opened the back door and brushed all the debris out the back. It was all dirt, petals, leaves, and twigs, so it should go back to nature, right?

When you shut the door, Seonghwa was wiping down the wooden work table surface. You returned the broom back to its spot by the door and turned to Seonghwa, your hand lingering on the mop. “Do you need to mop as well?” Seonghwa looked up at you and shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “I do all my deep cleaning on Mondays,” he explained as he carried the rag over to a small hamper and dropped it in.

“So,” he said, turning to you. “I guess we should talk.”

You nodded, watching as he washed his hands at the small sink next to the built-in work table.

“You said in your letter,” you started, reaching into your bag and pulling out the envelope, not noticing the look of surprise on Seonghwa’s face.

“You brought it with you?” he asked and you looked up as you pulled the pages out.

“I wanted to reference it directly instead of relying on my memory,” you answered as you opened the letter and cleared your throat.

“That you wanted to clear up your emotions,” you started, glancing at the first page and then back up at Seonghwa as he turned to lean against the work table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yet, it doesn’t really feel like it’s cleared up at all,” you said, looking back down.

“Isn’t it?” Seonghwa asked, drawing your attention back to him. “I think I made them perfectly clear, baeknari,” he said softly, using the nickname he’d taken to calling you. Glancing down quickly, you re-read through part of the first page.

“I said that I had a great time with you,” Seonghwa started when you didn’t speak again. “I also recall stating that I like you far more than you seem to think,” he added with a smirk. You swallowed thickly. “And I’m pretty sure I also said that I think you underestimate my attraction to you,” he continued.

You glanced up at him. “What do you mean by that?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Seonghwa merely smiled.

“Just that. It’s more than a simple attraction, my dear,” he answered. “I’m not just attracted to you.” Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. ‘More than attraction?’

“You also said you think about me more than any man would normally admit,” you said, trying to avoid the look Seonghwa was giving you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps erupting over your skin under your sweater despite the warmth of the greenhouse.

“I do,” Seonghwa admitted. You glanced up at him.

“How so?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Seonghwa let out a chuckle, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I think about you almost all the time,” he admitted, shocking you. “I think about you when I wake up. I think about you when I come to work and I see the cafe. Every time I look out the shop window and see that cafe, I think about you,” he continued.

“I think about you when I go home. I think about you when I go to bed. You occupy every thought.”

Your heart had started to race, beating erratically in your chest as he spoke.

“I think about you when I eat breakfast. And lunch. And dinner,” he continued, looking up to meet your eyes. His heated gaze sent a surge of arousal through your body. It was such a dark look. Like prey caught in the gaze of a predator. It was almost primal.

“I think about you when I’m driving; when I’m working…” he trailed off, keeping your gaze locked in his.

“When I shower.”

That seemed to do it, a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Wh-when you shower?” you asked, voice cracking slightly. Seonghwa nodded wordlessly.

“I told you,” he started. “I think about you all the time. More than could be considered normal. You shouldn’t occupy my every waking thought and yet you do. Maybe I’m obsessed, but it’s not normal to think about someone as much as I think about you.”

“Obsessed?” you whispered, drawing his attention.

“Don’t worry,” he said, shifting his weight again, moving his hands to rest against the edge of the counter. “I know what’s acceptable and what’s not. And I would never do anything to purposely make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.”

You glanced down at the letter in your hand, scanning the words on the sheet before looking back up.

“You said you can’t write about the things you think about,” you started. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, standing up and walking over to take the sheet.

“No,” he said softly. “I corrected myself and said I shouldn’t write them,” he explained.

“I can definitely write them down,” he continued, handing the sheet back to you. He moved back over to the work table, putting space between the two of you.

“But you’d prefer to say them in person?” you added, looking back up at him. Seonghwa nodded.

“I do want to say them. I want to tell you everything I think of and everything I want to do to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, making a small sound which Seonghwa noticed. You busied yourself with his letter, changing the page to scan the next sheet. “You said you didn’t kiss me because if you had, then you ‘wouldn’t have been able to stop’,” you read.

“Wouldn’t have been able to stop what?”

Seonghwa tilted his head, fixing you with a peculiar look. “Myself, angel. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself,” he answered.

“From what?” you whispered, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t dumb. You had an idea of what Seonghwa meant but you wanted to hear him say it.

“From following you into your house and doing everything I’ve imagined doing,” he replied, that dark look in his eyes back as he spoke.

“And what do you imagine doing to me?” you asked softly. Seonghwa’s lips twitched, fighting a smirk before he cleared his throat.

“Would you like me to tell you,” he asked, looking down at the table and back. “Or would you like me to show you?”

You were at a crossroads. If you accepted his offer, it would probably lead to sex which you weren’t opposed to. If you declined, where would that lead? Would you leave and never speak to him again?

You knew you wanted Seonghwa. He was kind, passionate, ambitious, generous, intelligent, witty, and insanely attractive. You wanted him so bad. So who were you to deny yourself?

Your eyes scanned the letter one last time before folding it, placing the sheets back in the envelope and sliding the letter back into your purse before crossing the room, sliding between Seonghwa and the work table before looking up to meet his gaze.

“You said you’re afraid of scaring me off,” you started. “Is that right?”

Seonghwa nodded, you noticed how he swallowed. “Why would I be scared?” you asked softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. Seonghwa leaned into your touch, lips parting as a soft sigh escaped him. Your thumb moved, brushing over his bottom lip.

“Because,” he started, his breath hot against your skin. “I can be kind of—”

“Intense?” you asked, smiling when he nodded. “What makes you think that would scare me?”

Without warning, Seonghwa’s hands found purchase on your hips, pushing you against the edge of the work table. “I’m not a very sweet or soft lover,” he murmured against your hand. “I’m rough, hard,” he continued, one hand grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Unforgiving.”

You brought your free hand up to run your fingers through his hair before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging sharply. “And who said I am?” you asked softly, enjoying the way he moaned against your hand. He let go of your wrist, fingers skimming your neck lightly.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Kitten,” he murmured, eyes scanning up to meet your gaze. “Keep this up and I’ll take you right here.”

You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, forcing his hand against your throat. “Do it, then,” you whispered. Seonghwa hesitated, eyes searching your face. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice quiet but clear.

“I said do it,” you repeated. “Take me, Seonghwa. I’m yours. I always was.”

The next moment, Seonghwa’s lips crashed against yours, one hand firmly on your hip, the other moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips parted, tongue quickly slipping into your mouth, moving against yours. You whimpered against his lips, his mouth swallowing it eagerly.

“God I would love to take you home,” Seonghwa murmured against your lips, hand still on the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Lay you down in my bed and take my time with you like you deserve.”

You felt his other hand slide down your hip to your thigh. “So why don’t you?” you asked, hands moving up his chest to hold onto his shoulders.

“Because,” he started, gripping your thigh and hiking your knee up to his waist. He guided you to lay back on the work table.

“I’m an impatient man,” he continued, his hand sliding down the outside of your thigh to your ass. “And I told you I’m a rough, unforgiving lover.”

You felt him roll his hips into yours grinding his erection into your soaked panties, giving you some slight friction against your aching clit. “And you told me to take you right here,” he added, slowly lowering your head to the work table, his hand moving around to ghost over your throat before sliding down your chest, not giving it much attention as he continued to move it lower until he reached the hem of your sweater.

“As cute as this is,” he murmured, pulling at your top. “It needs to come off.”

You sat up, grabbing the hem of your sweater and pulling it up over your head and dropping it on the table. Underneath you wore a simple ribbed white turtleneck top with short sleeves tucked into your skirt. Seonghwa grabbed at your shirt, leaning over to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

He pushed it up past your chest, hands cupping your breasts firmly but gently. “Take it off,” he ordered. You raised yourself up from the surface of the table to pull the shirt off, letting it fall wherever you dropped it. You were left in your skirt and a lacy lavender bralette with straps crossing over your chest.

Seonghwa let out a sigh as he took in your form, eyes shining with lust and another emotion you couldn’t exactly place. You suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze and moved your hands to cover yourself but he stopped you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands down against the wood.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Don’t you cover yourself. I’ve wondered for so long what kind of lingerie you wear and to see it now? Don’t you dare hide it from me.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. You sighed out as he left a trail of kisses from your lips across your cheek and down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the skin above your pulse point.

You let out a moan as his teeth grazed your skin. Even if a mark did or didn’t form, you’d still know he was there. Seonghwa continued down your neck, leaving love bites in his wake until he reached your chest. “I’d love to sit here and admire you all night in this,” he said softly, fingers skimming the delicate lace of your bralette. “But I really want to take it off,” he continued.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled your sternum, hands sliding down to your waist. “Take it off,” you whispered. Seonghwa lifted his head to meet your gaze. He’d barely done anything to you but he looked like he was intoxicated. Drunk off touching you.

“You want me to do that, blossom?” he asked softly. “You want me to undress you?”

You nodded shyly, heat rising to your cheeks as he reached up to stroke your cheek. His thumb brushed over your lips like yours had earlier and without prompting, you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. Seonghwa let out a groan, his free hand fumbling with the clasp on the front of your bralette and managing to undo it.

Keeping his thumb in your mouth, he pulled you to sit up, pushing the bralette off you and letting it fall onto the wooden surface of the table. You swirled your tongue around his thumb and Seonghwa pulled his hand back before cupping your jaw. “Wanna show me what else you can do with that mouth, sweetheart?” You nodded wordlessly as he helped you down from the table.

“On your knees then, Kitten.”

You slowly lowered yourself down, keeping your eyes on his face. Seonghwa ran his fingers through his hair before cupping your chin. “Have you ever done this before?”

You nodded slowly. “Once,” you answered. “I’ll do my best though.” Seonghwa let out a groan before squeezing your chin gently.

“Open your mouth, blossom,” he ordered, moving his hands to undo his belt and pants as you kneeled there, sitting on your heels. “Tongue out,” he ordered as he moved slowly, sliding his hand into his underwear where your eyes couldn’t see. His hand moved inside his boxers at the sight of you on your knees for him.

“Come here,” he said breathlessly. You raised yourself up off your heels, moving your hands up his thighs. Seonghwa pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to pull his cock free, allowing you to see it. It was larger than you expected but it didn’t look like it would hurt to take.

The head was bulbous, tip slightly red with a bead of precum.

“Open your mouth, baby,” Seonghwa said, drawing your attention away from his cock. You opened your mouth again. “Tongue,” he added and you obliged, letting your tongue fall from your mouth to make space. “Tap my thigh once for yes and twice if it’s too much or you want to stop, okay?” he asked softly. You nodded and waited as he guided the head to your mouth, letting it rest against your tongue.

It was salty, no doubt from the precum, as he rubbed the head against your tongue before pushing further into your mouth, inhaling sharply as his cock entered your mouth, your tongue brushing against the underside. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructed. You did as he said and once you’d taken a deep breath, Seonghwa pushed the rest of his cock in until it reached the back of your mouth, stopping just before it entered your throat.

“I’m gonna guide your head, okay?” Seonghwa asked. You tapped his thigh to let him know you were fine. Seonghwa guided your head, making you pull back before pulling you forward. He set a steady pace, making sure to stop before you gagged.

After a couple moments, you didn’t need his guidance and started moving on your own, keeping your hands on his thighs, nails raking over the material of his pants. “That’s it, kitten. Keep going,” he muttered, gently stroking your hair. “Just like that.”

You moaned, taking him as far into your mouth as you could. You noticed how his hips started to follow your mouth, shallowly thrusting. “Hold still,” he instructed, placing his hand on the back of your head. He gave you a tentative thrust, gauging your gag reflex. He gave you another, and then another, setting a steady pace of shallow thrusts.

The tip of his cock hit the back of your mouth with a lewd wet sound almost like a gag but you didn’t gag. He was testing your limits and it seemed he could hit the back of your mouth without a reaction. You closed your eyes, breathing through your nose as best as you could with each thrust into your mouth. Seonghwa let out a strained grunt and thrust, hard, forcing his cock into your throat briefly making you gag and your body react violently.

He pulled back, as you gasped, coughing. Your cheeks were stained with tears, drool running down your chin and onto your chest. In every sense of the word, you were a mess but to Seonghwa you were a vision. He carefully pulled you to your feet, guiding you back onto the table before flipping your skirt up, exposing your soiled underwear. He tsked softly, looking up at you.

“How long have you been this wet, sweetheart?” he asked, meeting your gaze.

“A while,” you whispered. Seonghwa sighed and quickly removed your panties, stuffing them into his pocket as he pulled his underwear up to cover his cock.

“You were so good for me,” he murmured, parting your thighs to look down at your sex, arousal smeared all over your lips.

“Now I’ll be good for you,” he added. You propped yourself up to watch as he lowered his head, pressing wet, open mouth kisses along the inside of your thigh, stopping to sink his teeth into your soft skin. You let out a breathy whine as he skipped over your core, kissing up the inside of your other thigh and biting into your skin, leaving small imprints that would eventually fade.

“Give me your hand, blossom,” he said, holding his hand out, palm up. You placed your hand in his and watched curiously as he guided your hand to his head. “You might want to hold on,” he said with a smirk before dipping his head, spreading your thighs and licking slowly up your slit, pressing his tongue past your folds and finding your clit with relative ease.

Your fingers immediately curled into his hair as you felt some mild relief but as soon as Seonghwa got a taste, it was like a switch was flipped. His fingers dug into your thighs, keeping them parted as he lapped at your cunt greedily, like it was the last meal he’d ever have.

The tip of his tongue slipped into your entrance briefly before gliding back up to tease your clit. You raised your head, propping yourself up on one elbow, keeping a firm grip on his hair and let out a moan when you met his gaze. He flattened his tongue, moving his head from side to side slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he did.

Your thighs tried to close but he held them open with a vice like grip. You could feel your orgasm building, bubbling up like carbonation in a bottle of soda that had been shaken up. But before it could explode, Seonghwa pulled back, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, Kitten,” he breathed, leaning over your body, leaving wet kisses up your stomach, stopping at your chest to brush his lips over one of your nipples before parting his lips and swirling his tongue around it. He sucked lightly, letting it fall from his mouth before continuing, kissing up your chest and your neck. “When you cum for me for the first time, it’s going to be around my cock,” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath making your shiver.

You heard him messing with his pants, pushing them back down and pulling his cock free.

“I don’t have any condoms here,” he muttered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I don’t normally fuck pretty little baristas in the backroom of my shop,” he added, a smirk in his tone.

“So I’m special?” you whispered, breathlessly as he pressed the head of his cock against your leaking entrance.

“Oh baby, you’re so much more than just special,” he murmured as he rutted against you.

“Such a pretty little thing. So sweet, and not nearly as innocent as I thought,” he added as the underside of his cock rubbed against your clit. “Will you let me fuck you raw, sweetheart? Or are you too innocent for that? Have you ever been fucked raw?”

You shook your head. “No, never,” you answered. “Never been fucked raw.”

Seonghwa chuckled, his hot breath tickling your neck. “So I’m the first? You have no idea how happy that makes me. You’ll let me be the first, right? You’ll let me fuck you raw, won’t you?”

You nodded fervently, the tip of his cock bumping your clit and making you gasp. “Yes, Seonghwa, please. Take me, please. Fuck me please, please,” you pleaded. Seonghwa let out a groan as he slowed his pace, guiding the head of his cock to your hole and pushing it in slowly.

“Oh you really want this,” he commented, watching his cock disappear inside you. “Sucked my cock in so hungrily. What a greedy little cunt you have,” he murmured, sheathing himself in one fluid motion and rocking your body against the wooden table.

“Oh fuck, Hwa!” you gasped, one hand gripping the table edge above your head, the other grabbing his shoulder. You were half naked under him and other than his pants being undone and pushed halfway down his thighs, Seonghwa was still fully dressed.

Seonghwa cupped your jaw, squishing your cheeks slightly. “What a dirty fucking mouth you have,” he growled, his hips moving, pulling back and snapping forward, thrusting into you harshly. “Open your mouth, Kitten,” you parted your lips, obeying him. Seonghwa stilled his hips for just a moment, spitting into your mouth before resuming his punishing pace.

The table creaked under you with each thrust, the sound of his skin hitting yours filling the room with the sounds of his cock plunging in and out of your wet hole. Heat spread from your cheeks to your neck and chest as your orgasm approached rapidly.

“Are you gonna cum already, Blossom? I’ve barely even fucked you properly,” he chuckled, his tone mocking instead of sweet which you should have expected. He said he was an unforgiving lover.

You whimpered, hand moving up into his hair and gripping it tightly. “Pull my hair again baby and I’ll teach you what happens when you can’t behave,” he growled, one hand moving to your throat and pinning you down against the table.

“What will you do?” you challenged.

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, hips snapping against you and rocking the whole table. “Turn you over and pin you down, fuck you until you full of nothing but my cum. Would you like that, petal? You want to be fucked full of my cum until it drips down your legs like a dirty little cumslut?”

You moaned, walls fluttering around his cock as your orgasm drew nearer. “Oh, that does it for you, does it? Sweet little Y/N, my own little lily, likes being called a cumslut?” Seonghwa teased, making you moan again as his grip on your throat tightened, restricting the flow of your blood but not your oxygen.

“Likes being choked, likes it when I spit into her mouth, likes being fucked like a bitch in heat in the backroom of my flower shop, you really aren’t as innocent as you seem,” he muttered, his hips stuttering momentarily.

“Are you like this with all the guys?” he asked, tightening his grip on your throat. You whimpered, thighs trying to close as his free hand moved, thumb brushing over your clit to send you hurtling towards the edge. “Do you let all the guys have you like this?”

You shook your head, gripping his wrist as the corners of your eyes burned with unshed tears. It felt so fucking good but you were teetering on the edge, unable to full cum as his thumb stopped rubbing your clit and he alternated to giving you shallow thrusts that had you standing on the precipice.

“No!” you gasped. “No one else,” you added. “Only you. No one else has ever filled me up. You’re the first. No one else can. I’m yours!” Your words had the intended effect of Seonghwa and he resumed ramming into you, resting his forehead against yours as he muttered he was close.

“Where do you want it?” he asked quickly, hips faltering slightly. “Inside me, Seonghwa, please. Cum inside me,” you gasped. Seonghwa growled, letting go of your throat in favor of cradling your head as his thrusts grew more erratic, sloppier, his moans coming out in pitched whines until he gave you one final thrust, tipping you over the edge, your thighs shaking as your walls clenched around his cock. You clawed at his shirt, whimpering as he fucked his cum into you weakly until his hips stilled, face buried in the crook of your neck as you both basked in the aftermath of your highs.

You weren’t sure how long it took but as you came down, the realization that you were half naked on Seonghwa’s work table in the backroom of his floral shop dawned on you and you cleared your throat, licking your dry lips, and tried to get his attention.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. He hummed in response, pressing a few short kisses to your neck. “I’m feeling kind of exposed here,” you added.

Seonghwa lifted his head and let out a huff of air before pushing himself up. His hair was a mess, lips red and swollen from your kisses, his cheeks were pink from exertion. “Shit, let me uh…” he trailed off as he looked around. “Stay right there.”

He carefully pulled his cock free, wincing slightly as he tucked himself back in his pants and rushed over to the drawers on the inside wall. He looked through them quickly and returned with a clean cloth and carefully wiped your skin, the insides of your thighs, your sex and the edge of the table under you.

He dashed around, collecting your clothing and shook them before helping you back into your bralette, top and sweater. “Where are my panties?” you asked, looking around as Seonghwa zipped and buttoned his pants. “Oh,” he said softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling your panties out, unwading them and helping you into them.

“Just until we get you home,” he added as he redid his belt and looked up at you. He reached up, brushing your bottom lip. “Or we can go back to mine,” he offered. You smiled as he leaned in, taking your face in his hands and kissing you sweetly, in high contrast from the pounding he just gave you.

“We can also just go back to mine. It’s closer, isn’t it?” you muttered against his lips, grabbing him by the sweater.

Seonghwa smiled into the kiss before pulling back. “Is this your way of getting me into your bed, miss?” he asked softly, thumbs grazing over your cheeks.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Maybe.”

Seonghwa chuckled, kissing your cheeky grin. “Dare I say, it’s working,” he commented, giving you another kiss before pulling away, taking your hand and leading you away from the table and towards the door into the shop. You stopped to grab your things and followed Seonghwa to the front door where he helped you with your coat before unlocking the door and opening it.

“After you, ma’am,” he said and you gently pushed his chest.

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am,” you groaned as you stepped out into the night air.

Seonghwa followed behind, shutting the door and locking it. “Oh?” he asked, pocketing his keys and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek and then your lips. “What would you like me to call you, then?” he asked, voice muffled by your lips.

“I like Blossom,” you said softly after a moment of contemplation.

“Or Petal,” you added. Seonghwa smiled, cupping your cheek and pulling you into yet another kiss.

“Blossom it is,” he replied before pulling away and offering his arm for you to take. You did so and followed his lead. “So your place?” he asked, looking at you as you walked.

You nodded, smiling up at him. “I can get clean underwear,” you said with a nod.

“Or you can just not wear clothes,” Seonghwa said as you walked, making you giggle.

“Well there’s another reason I’d like to go back to my place,” you added.

“Oh?” Seonghwa asked, looking at you as you pulled him to a stop and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I have spreader bars at my place.”

You giggled at the surprised look on his face before letting go of his arm and continuing forward. Seonghwa quickly caught up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Spreader bars? As in multiple?” he hissed. “Seriously? Next you’ll tell me you have an assortment of fantasy dildos.”

You giggled again, harder and Seonghwa looked at you incredulously.

“Guess I’m not as innocent as you thought,” you whispered.

“No,” he replied, a smirk forming on his face. “No, I guess not.”

You checked the label on the cup and read the name out loud, smiling as the customer came to get their order. The rush had just ended, the last of your customers trickling out of the door or finding empty seats to sit down and do their work or study.

“I’m gonna take my break, Y/N,” Addie said as you wiped down your counter.

“Okay,” you called back.

“Lin can fill in for me.” You smiled as Lin turned to look at you before they looked past you with a look of mild surprise and nodded. You turned around expecting to see a customer but were instead greeted with a singular white lily.

A smile spread across your face as you looked past the petals and saw the face of your boyfriend, the sweet, albeit kinky and sex-crazed, florist who worked across the square. “To what occasion do I owe this beautiful gift?” you asked, taking the flower from him and bringing it to your face to smell the scent.

“Occasion?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the counter. “Do I need an occasion to bring my beautiful girlfriend a flower?” he asked, reaching across the counter to gently take your chin in his hand and caress your cheek with his thumb.

“Girlfriend?” a voice asked, making you both turn to find Addie looking from the back room in shock.

Seonghwa chuckled softly and looked back at you. “What time do you get off?” he asked as you admired the flower.

“In about an hour,” you hummed, looking up at him.

“Perfect, cause see I know this really great place. The wine is amazing and the food is to die for,” he mused, taking one of your hands.

“No flirting with the employees!” Addie said though you could tell by the tone in her voice she wasn’t serious.

“So how about it?” Seonghwa asked. “I’ll pick you up here when you get off, we can stop by your place and you can change and then we’ll go?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Where is this place? Is it new?” you asked. You’d been to most of the restaurants in town and if something new had popped up, you were sure word would have spread. Seonghwa fought the urge to smile, cupping your cheek again.

“You could say that,” he answered. “I’ll see you in an hour,” he added, standing up straight.

“Wait,” you called, making him stop by the door but also making a few of the patrons look up. Seonghwa calmly walked back over. “Where is this place?” you asked softly, leaning in, ignoring the looks of both your coworkers and the customers alike.

“You’ll like it,” Seonghwa said playfully. “I know the owner.”

You raised an eyebrow at this. “Why won’t you just tell me where it is?”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning across the counter and catching you in a surprise kiss. “It’s my place,” he finally said with a laugh and stood up straight, drumming quickly on the counter before walking towards the door. “One hour,” he called and stepped out the door, letting it shut behind him.

“Since when are you seeing the florist?” Lin whispered, coming over to get a look at the lily in your hands. “Since last week,” you murmured, remembering the intense sex you had with said florist in his shop and then again the next morning and night at your place.

“You’re hiding something,” Addie said suddenly, startling you with her close proximity.

“What are you hiding?” You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said, turning away and looking out the cafe window to the floral shop across the square where Seonghwa was unlocking the door and entering the shop, shutting the door behind him.

“Nothing at all.”

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whispersoftheton · 9 days

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hiiii!! can i ask for a fic where reader (aka viscountess) is helping benedict with a lady he's falling in love with, but they're basically scheming and secretive and Anthony gets suspicious and a little jealous/upset? thanks!!!!!

Hello nonny! I've been going back and forth on posting this mostly because I don't feel like it's very good but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous!Anthony

Word Count: 1.1K

The day had dawned, and it seemed you had blinked the night away after a previously tedious day. Your duties as Viscountess had significantly grown since Lady Bridgerton had started to hand over most of the reigns of the house. With some spare time on your hands, you spent most of your day in the main hall amongst everyone as you poured yourself some tea before returning to your reading. With a hint of mystery in his eyes, Benedict strolled into the room and stood beside you, making himself busy with the book you had just put down on the tray.

"Viscountess now, is it?" He teased in a hushed tone to not alert the siblings of his untimely arrival. Benedict always had a way of easily slipping in and out of sight, with his mama distracted with his other sibling's endeavors.

"It would appear so." You offered him a warm smile while pouring some tea for yourself. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Benedict?" Although most may not understand your relationship with your new brother-in-law, this is how it has always been since your courtship with Anthony. How you managed to keep up flawlessly in between constant banter with his siblings was just one of the things Anthony loved most about you. And Benedict was no exception.

"It seems I find myself in need of your assistance." The unusual hesitance in his voice piqued your interest. Benedict was never one to shy away from a challenge, let alone hold his tongue. "There is a lady who I would like to…pursue."

"As in courting? The Benedict Bridgerton interested in seriously courting someone? Why I'd never thought I'd see the day." Your words dripped with sarcasm, but as you turned toward Benedict, it was clear this was no joke, making you reconsider your teasing, at least for now. "I apologize; I did not realize this was a serious matter." His eyes still trained on the tea before you. "If it is my assistance you require with the matter, I will help you."

"Really?" He leaned back, head up with a cocked brow.

"You are my brother now. And if this lady is as suitable of a match as you are implying, I will do everything in my power to assure your courtship to her."

"You care about me?" His teasing returned, making you resist the urge to roll your eyes toward him, but a smile crept up nonetheless.

"Of course, I care. We are family. Now, let's get to it before I regret this entire thing."

Anthony paced around his office, unable to focus on a single task all day. His desk was littered with papers needing attention, but all he could focus on was how odd you'd been acting as of late. Your presence was scarce around the house, although your duties were always tended to. Anthony missed having you as close by as he was accustomed to since your marriage. Of course, he caught glimpses of you throughout the day, but you always seemed to be scurrying off somewhere. He couldn't help but notice Benedict lingering nearby at every event he'd been to in the last couple of weeks, engaging you in conversation whenever he stepped away, even for a moment. Anthony knew he had no reason to be envious; you were his wife, and you loved each other dearly. But that didn't stop him from suppressing a surge of jealousy at the thought of you and Benedict spending so much time together. Impossible thoughts swirled through his mind, straying him further and further away from any rational thinking until his feet carried him faster than he could stop himself as he called the carriage.

The day was as warm as it was humid; the lush field was decorated with tents showcasing various vendors as the ton gathered. You had spent the better part of your time in the last couple of weeks preparing Benedict as much as possible, covering everything from appropriate topics of conversation to enticing the young woman to yearn for more interactions with him. It had been a challenging task. For every ounce of natural charm Benedict possessed, his soon-to-be lady seemed to be immune to it at every turn. Every challenge she presented seemed to draw Benedict closer. It was daunting, to say the least, but today would be the day. The garden party was the event of the social season, and you knew for a fact that she would make an appearance today. Benedict came up beside you, eyes set on her almost immediately. You glanced toward him, watching intently as his face softened, a smile deepening with every second he laid his eyes on her. Your heart warmed; whatever Benedict felt for this lady, you understood it was exactly what he had been searching for.

"Are you ready?" He snapped out of it and nodded toward you. "Go on then." Benedict readied himself, taking comfort in the fact that you would be nearby. But as soon as he stepped forward, he felt a hand grip his shoulder and move him back toward you.

"My dear brother," Anthony kept his tone hushed so as not to alarm any of the ton members standing nearby. "I will make haste so we may continue with the day's festivities. Care to clarify as to why you are spending so much of your time with my wife?" You and Benedict shared a look, holding back a laugh.

"I'd prefer not to; I'm rather entertained at the moment." Benedict crossed his arms before him, aiming his shit-eating grin at Anthony.

"Truly, Anthony, you could not make any more of a fool of yourself than you already are." You huffed as you turned toward your husband. "May I speak to you in private?" Anthony hesitated before he took your hand and walked you to an isolated part of the lake away from the chaos.

"If you must know, I was asked to help your brother pursue someone. I have been guiding him on proper conversation topics and ways to impress the young lady he has shown interest in. That is all. And if you are indeed insinuating there would be absolutely anything inappropriate happening between your brother and I then you truly do not know me at all."

"That is not what I thought-I-You were only spending so much time with Benedict, and I allowed my temper to best me; I only missed your company." His apologetic look had you softening under his gaze. "I apologize."

"Next time, simply ask before you allow your mind to run rampant with impossible thoughts, hm?" He nodded before taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Anthony lead you back toward the gathering to find Benedict wholly entranced in a rather enticing conversation with his lady.

"It seems like you did well, my love," Anthony whispered toward you, tapping your hand, which was now holding onto his arm. "Looks like my brother might find his match after all."

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44st4rs · 15 days

Text

THE FLASHIEST STAR!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — synopsis ! It’s hard for anyone new to catch the eyes of Tengen and his wives. But when they catch you new to the scene, the flashiest star wants a taste!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — pairings! p☆!fem!reader x the uzui wives x p☆ tengen uzui

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — cw! 1.9k, dubcon, pwp, foursome, heavy wlw, oral(f.receiving), face sitting, nïppleplay, no protection, p in v, size kink(?), squirtïng

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ — xoxo, chris! this one is a fav of mine! to my fellow tengen lovers, hope you enjoy!

For one Tengen Uzui, it was hard for just anyone to attract his attention. Especially in his field of work, there was only a diamond to be found on the rarest of occasions. In order to even bring a sliver of interest to his vibrant mind, there had to be a certain quality one possessed. It was found in all his wives, each one different from the other. It was a quality that he swore he’d never find again in a woman.

And just as the double began to set in, the rays of fate casted upon the dimmed flame.

A new infatuation wasn’t something Tengen foresaw in his future, but he knew it was one he couldn’t ignore any longer. It’s what he would call “an unpolished gem”, the first thought that came into mind when stumbling upon one of your films.

He remembers that night all too vividly, not a single one of his actions being his own. From the moment he pressed play, Tengen’s entire being fell victim to the pretty coos of your voice. It enthralled him, placing the man beneath a trance. It was in the manner you touched, held, even connected with your co-star that had Tengen unexpectedly intrigued.

Yet what brought him the most joy was his wives, sharing the same common interest in you. Just off posing his newest muse to the three women brought the giddy squeals from their mouths. That alone pushed Tengen onto his next pursuit: to indulge in all you had to offer.

So when the day finally arrived before Tengen, he was nothing short of prepared. Even now as he stood on the same set as you, the heat of anticipation wafted across his skin.

There you were, the intoxicating curves of your body, the silky plush of your skin melding amongst that of his wives, he ached over the moments when he’d finally have you in his care. But being the courteous man as he was, he allowed for his wives to take charge, each one swarming your body with such depravity.

His glossy fuchsia hues glazed over the congested scene, his tongue drifting along his lips. He couldn’t deny it, watching the passion that emitted from his doting wives. He couldn’t tell where you began and where they had ended, not a single one of the women easing their grips upon you.

With Hinatsuru buried between your trembling legs, Suma’s hips rolling against your curved tongue, and Makio toying with the stiffened peaks of your breasts, not even the ungodly grip Tengen had over his cock could prevent the heavy beads of precum from dripping off his knuckles.

And as for you, nothing could be more overwhelming, than having the three beauties cling to you as they saw fit. The gentle aches of your hips, jaw, and even arms number from thoughts, simply replaced by the vivid display unfolding.

Since sinking between your legs nearly thirty minutes ago, Hinatsuru’s head hasn’t once faltered from you. Her lips were glazed with your essence, courtesy of her tongue teasing at your fluttering slit. Her touch couldn’t compare to others, the graze of her fingers being enough to set your body ablaze.

Whenever she could, her digits dipped between your folds, her gentle graze stirring your arousal to its peak. The soft mounds of her lips worked in tandem, cling to the perked hood of your clit, sucking on whatever she caught.

Yet what threw your body down its untimely spiral was the paired workings of Makio’s tongue, swirling about your pert nipples. Her hands kept busy, massaging the tender plush, even taking to rolling the tender buds between her fingers. The soft moans that left from her throat only sank into your chest, your fingers itching to cup her hollowed cheeks.

As much as your hands sought to settle atop of the heads of both women, they were bound to the task of keeping poor Suma still.

The youngest of the wives seemed to be the most eager, not allowing anyone other than herself to remain atop your face. Her airy moans bounced along the walls, the whites of her eyes teasing to enter in view. Your tongue flicked at her clit, watching as she writhed shamelessly along with the lazy pace.

She was an easy tease, just the slightest pull on her clit was enough to set her off, allowing for you to rely on nothing but wet kisses and a wandering tongue to please her. Her hand clutched at a tuft of your hair, her mouth babbling off with mindless dribble.

It was quite the sight to take in, watching as Suma desperately pawed at her perky breasts, wincing at the harsh pinches befalling the peaks of her nipples. The need for relief was written all over her face, brows coming to a knit and her lips plump with a pout.

You couldn’t help but take pity on her, her breathless mewls spilling into the air. Your tongue laid flat against the taut bud, using the gentles lashes coaxing an arch to form along her spine.

From afar, you could sense the bed dip underneath the additional weight of another, coaxing for all the wives to cease their ministrations. “She’s all ready for you, Tengen! Her pussy’s just the cutest!” Hinatsuru giggled, smearing what essence remained amongst the tips of her fingers. She returned her hand to your cunt once more, digits slipping between the puffy lips.

Prying the swelled mounds apart, Hinatsuru revealed the glossy mess to both Tengen and the camera’s view, the bulb of your clit twitching beneath the attention. Her voice hummed softly, dragging the pads of her digits along your velvety folds.

“Isn’t she just so pretty?”

“Of course she is,” Tengen nodding in agreement. “Y/N’s just the perfect woman in every way imaginary.”

Above you, Suma granted herself one last roll of her hips before clasping beside you, the warmth fading into your skin. Her palm rested atop your cheek, rubbing her thumb along with the curves of your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna go yet! Y/N was so close to making me cum!” she pouted, setting her glossy blue hues onto you. With a final parting, Suma brought her lips to your own, her tongue gliding across your bottom lip.

Last to part from your exhausted body was Makio, her mouth planting a trail of pecks towards your worked jaw. Patience ran thin among Makio’s mind, the set of amber eyes trained to every reel of your lips.

“C’mon Suma, I wanna kiss too!” she whimpered, bracing the curve of your jaw gently. Your head whipped from Suma’s lingering lips to Makio’s, the supple plush latching onto yours.

All to be left of the brash exchange was the single strand of salvia glimmered, thinning as Makio took her leave of you.

“Have fun, Beautiful! Tengen’s been waiting to have you all to himself, y’know,” she beamed, tugging away the needy Suma from you.

As the rowdy echoes began to fade away. Tengen was quick to fill the space between your legs, his body hunched over your own. His hands clung to your sides, the pads of his calloused thumbs massaging the plush of your skin.

You were so much softer, smoother than he’d envisioned, afraid that any more of his brute force would ruin the feverish reality before him. Rather than rushing to ease his urges, Tengen seemed more interested to relish in you, his lips brushing past the shell of your ear.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you? It’s an honor to be here with you, Y/N,” his voice purred, Your arms laced around his neck, closing the distance amongst you both. Tengen’s face pickled with the impending swell of heat beneath his cheeks, falling victim to the delicate sway of your voice.

“Isn’t that just cute? Your wives were just as eager, y’know,” the giggle falling from you. “You’ve gotta prove yourself, Tengen. You didn’t earn that nickname for nothing.”

Slipping a hand between your smothered bodies, Tengen gripped at the stiffened base of his cock, bringing the thick bow of his tip to peck at your hole.

“That silly name? Let’s see how fair it gets me, don’t we?”

Nodding to Tengen’s words, you found yourself melding into his hold, the tips of your fingers brushing through the white strands of his hair. It wasn’t easy to believe, not that your blank mind could even begin to understand.

Just off of the crown of Tengen’s cock alone stretched your cunt to accommodate his girth, the daunting drive of his hips fueling the flame within your core. Your eyes fluttered from view, using the etching drive of your nails along the broad of his shoulders to ground you.

It took nearly all your strength to bare Tengen’s cock, the thin sheen of sweat lathering about your skin. The wet pants rang against the chiseled hull of his chest, the delicious of your overwhelmed walls granting him little space to flourish.

As the warmth of your cunt enveloped around Tengen’s, he rested back onto his haunches, the pad of his thumb mischievously swiping at your clit.

“Fuck–Y-You’re so big Tengen! It’s too much–” you sobbed, inducing an arch to consume your spine.

A wave of pity struck Tengen, mixed with the hints of pride. A poor girl like you never really did have someone so big, someone simply radiating with such power to fill your walls just right. He took to your ear, sending smug words of comfort to ease your ascending mind.

“That’s a good girl, told you it was gonna fit. Just lay there and be pretty for the camera now. Gonna take real good care of you and that pretty pussy,” he cooed, hips reeling back lazily. Your hands clawed at whatever could be found, bracing the unrelenting snap to come.

The lewd clashes of skin echoed around the room, melding with the spews of hiccuping whimpers of your lungs, barely holding a lick of the heavy air. Tengen was keen on his choice of pace, winching at the squeezing hold your walls held over him.

His eyes were trained to the weeping mess of your cunt, sucking him back in with shameful greed. Such a pure sight needed to be etched into his thoughts, serving as his muse just for the moment. Tengen was sure that the intoxicating roll of his hips never faltered away the embedded passionate.

Of course he wouldn’t allow that, ensuring that every single plunge of his cock not only kissed your cervix, but was to be so engraved along your walls that no one other but him could deliver the sweet fruits of bliss onto you.

“Fuckkk, knew you’d feel good around me. Even taking all of me like this too–don’t you deserve to cum?”

You opened your mouth to reply with what strength and sense were left, only for the crippling precursors to an orgasm seizing your body captive. The pool of nerves stirred about your tummy, reaching the final limits. An inaudible shrill flew from your hinged jaw, the glossy tears of your essence painting Tengen’s pelvis in with the shimmering rivulets of release.

Not bothering to pull from you, Tengen peered down his body, hazy eyes licking over the explicit art painting his skin. He could only hold his position, the harsh stare of the wavering camera capturing each staggering breath to exit your lungs.

Taking your quivering hand into his own, Tengen pushed a few pecks along your knuckles, masking his prideful grin behind the tender gestures.

“And who made you squirt like that, hm, Beautiful?”

“T-The flashiest star did, of course!”

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commonbard · 2 years

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first day of my thrilling new schedule. ive been up since 8. it is 9pm. i have homework. i usually go to bed at 10 :)

#if im not as active on here assume (1) i am dead or (2) i am busy #although i would expect meaghan to post a death announcement in the case of my untimely demise. to be clear.#so yeah just assume im busy :)))) but lets be honest i will be here just as much and my work will suffer #kells.txt

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thewriterowl · 7 months

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Chief Editor Luke Skywalker makes a foolish lie to help protect his employee, Din Djarin, from losing his job. Both hoped to brush it off with some minor inconvenience but, instead, find themselves going to Din's home to "celebrate" their engagement with the very large Djarin clan.

Trapped in a quaint village where everyone knows everything, sharing a bedroom, and needing to pretend they are happily in love when Din hates his boss with a passion (and said boss being a bit more soft and odd than expected) it feels like a disaster is waiting to happen. Only, in a strange turn of events, rather than things unraveling, it feels like pieces are falling into place a little too naturally.

(Or, AKA: The Proposal AU)

Final chapter is up! Untimely Business is complete! :D Hope you all enjoy! It was a fun experience. A nice little sorta break from the seriousness of my other writings. I honestly really liked this one int he end to the point I was tempted to write more lol

Not quite sure what is up for next Saturday's update! I hope something even like a little sexy one-shot in Sinful as I work on the bigger things. But we shall see!

Thank you all for the support of this fic and look forward to whatever comes next!

#star wars #the mandalorian #dinluke #luke skywalker #din djarin #untimely business

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avis-writeshq · 9 months

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carriage six – spencer reid

summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that <3

wc: 1.8k

part two: platform ten

Spencer tries not to look so excited when he enters the subway, clad in light grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, a brown and purple argyle sweater vest and a mauve coloured tie. His signature leather bag is strapped across his chest and he has a light cardigan in his hand; the weather reports said it would be cold today. His head spins with the statistics on the accuracy of meteorology, considering the bright and sunny skies that blessed the citizens of D.C that morning. He’s donning a new haircut today as well. It was a lot shorter than he originally planned to get it, but he likes it. In fact, he likes it a lot, particularly the way it drapes across his forehead and the way it looks messy but still cool. That’s how he would describe it. Cool. He feels cool.

He hasn’t been able to get onto the subway for three days because of a case in Connecticut and his mind wanders. Will there be another case soon? How long would it take? He hopes it would be a local case. He feels guilty thinking that; he shouldn’t be hoping for a case at all. After all, that would only mean someone else has met their untimely death. He shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts.

He steps onto the train, onto the sixth carriage, and sits on his usual seat. In his mind, it’s the perfect seat. It avoids the sun so he doesn’t need to squint and he doesn’t have to turn the brightness level of his phone all the way up. It’s right next to the door in case he needs to make a quick exit. It’s right next to a handicapped seat, meaning that people tended to avoid it. But the best thing about this seat was the view.

He cringes when he thinks of it. ‘View’ sounds gross. Perverted. ‘View’ is the wrong word to describe it. His favourite thing about this particular seat is the company. Yes, he likes the company, although it technically doesn’t exactly count as company.

His gaze shifts to his company. Exactly four rows away, her eyes trained on the book in her hands. He recognises it to be ‘Pride and Prejudice’, the limited edition rose gold copy that was released eight months, three weeks and two days ago. He has the same copy sitting on his dresser.

She looks different today. Granted, it had been three days since he last saw her. He scans her figure to try to place his finger on the difference and he realises. She’s wearing a new lipgloss. Spencer’s cheeks burn when he realises. Why on earth— no, how on earth is he able to tell? He feels himself cringe and he shifts his gaze and scans the rest of carriage in an attempt to busy himself and his mind, but his eyes ultimately fall back on his company.

Spencer can’t seem to take his eyes off of her. What’s she listening to? Where is she up to in her book? Does she like Austen? Has she read any other books by her? What does she think of Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship? So many questions enter his mind and he wishes he had the guts to go over and strike up a conversation. But he’s not like Morgan. He doesn’t have that type of charisma or that type of confidence. If anything, he supposes, he’s self aware. He knows that the moment he starts a conversation, he would start rambling for twenty minutes about the relationship dynamics between the characters and why Austen was so incandescent and exceeded all beliefs as a writer in her world. He’d start to bring in authors like Virginia Woolf and why her admiration towards Jane Austen was warranted. Ultimately, Spencer thinks to himself as his eyes wander back to the girl, he’d scare her off.

He watches as she falters in her movements, her fingers pausing from flipping the page and Spencer frowns. From what he could tell, she was a little bit more than halfway through the book. Maybe up to page 260? But there’s nothing remotely difficult in that part of the book. If anything, that was the most simple and straightforward section of the entire text. And then he realises. His cheeks burn once more and he quickly busies himself with his phone, biting his lip and avoiding her amused gaze. Your amused gaze.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. You’ve seen him all the time, for the past three years in fact, when you first moved to D.C. He’s cute, really cute, and he’s even cuter when he looks like a deer caught in headlights. You raise a teasing eyebrow his way and you watch as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking into his phone. You can’t the soft laugh that leaves your lips, your fingers tracing against the pages of your book. Maybe you have a little more confidence in yourself than you thought.

***

The next day, Spencer feels a small sense of dread creeping into his heart. He feels embarrassed, so goddamn embarrassed, and he wonders how he could face you. His cheeks are burning and he tugs at his collar. He’s wearing a light blue shirt with a patterned purple tie, along with dark navy coloured pants. He teeters on his feet, waiting with anticipation for the train. The moment he enters the carriage, his eyes fall to the seat you would be seated at, only to see no one at all. He can’t help but frown, a little disappointed but a little relieved. He moves to his usual seat, and lo and behold, he sees you there, one leg crossed over the other and reading a different book.

He mutters a soft apology as he slides into the seat next to you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Wuthering Heights,” he says, surprising himself.

He watches as you look up from your pages, a small smile on your face. You’re wearing the same lip gloss as yesterday.

“Yeah.” You smile, taking your headphones off and letting them rest around your neck. “You’ve… have you read it before?”

He nods, and he curses himself for looking so eager. “Yes! Um, yes, I’ve read it. It’s really good.”

“Brönte is brilliant,” You respond, sliding a bookmark in between the pages. “I finished Pride and Prejudice last night. Jane Austen is still my favourite.”

You’re baiting him. He knows that. He takes it.

“I saw,” He says quietly, biting his lip. “Not– not in like a stalker way! I just… I just noticed you reading it on the train. Yesterday. I, um, I saw you reading it yesterday.”

He wants to kick himself. His face is flushed and he’s sure that his neck is just as red as his face. His ears are hot and his head spins when he hears you laugh.

“It’s okay. I saw you too.” You offer a smile, your own cheeks warm. “You were reading Edgar Allen Poe a few weeks ago. Is he any good?”

His eyes light up and he tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a habit of his, since he’s had longer hair almost all of his life.

“He’s very good,” Spencer insists, pulling the little book out of his satchel. “His works range from short stories to poetry, his most famous works being The Tell-Tale Heart, and Annabel Lee. The former is a short story. It’s a little grim, but he writes in an incredibly eloquent way that presents the narrator’s descent into madness, despite the point of the text being to convince the reader that he isn’t mad. Annabel Lee is a poem about a man obsessed with a woman named Annabel Lee and-“

He purses his lips, realising how much he’s spoken. He coughs into his fist, setting his book down in his lap as he quickly glances at you.

“…and what?” You prompt, your head tilting the side in curiosity. “Go on, don’t let me stop you. You’re convincing me to actually get the book on his collection of works.”

His head practically snaps to look at you, a look of surprise on his face. He scans your face for any insincerity, from your eyes all the way down to your lips, before clearing his throat.

“Um… well, uh, in Annabel Lee, the narrator speaks about keeping her in a castle by the sea. It’s a classic case of isolation and some literature analysts even go as far as to say that the narrator was hoping that Annabel would fall in love with him through Stockholm Syndrome but died before the narrator was able to carry out his plan.”

You take in his words, nodding along to his explanation. “You seem to be an expert yourself.”

He laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “No, I uh, I’m not an expert on literature or anything. But I am a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like… a medical doctor or…? No offence, but you really don’t look like a medical doctor.”

He laughs again, nodding. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not. I have PhD’s in chemistry, mathematics and physics, as well as BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy.”

You let out a low whistle. “You a collector or something?”

He blushes, swallowing thickly. “No, I uh… no…?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself doctor…” You pause, realising that you really don’t know much about this man. You look up at him expectantly.

“Reid,” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Spencer Reid. You, um, you don’t have to call me doctor.”

“Alright then, Spencer.” You smile, and he thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You introduce yourself and he tells you that you have a pretty name.

Time passes, and the conversation continues. You could talk for hours with Spencer; about books, movies, anything. He can make anything sound interesting, it’s one of his charms. He smiles a boyish grin as he talks, gesticulating wildly as he rants about his favourite texts and why Austen is a genius. He asks you what you’re listening to and you almost scream at the thought of introducing him to Taylor Swift.

Before long, the train lurches to a stop at his station and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“It was nice meeting you. Officially,” He adds, gripping the strap of his leather bag.

“It was nice to officially meet you too,” You respond, smiling up at him as he gets up from his seat. “Tomorrow?”

His eyes practically light up. “Tomorrow.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

part two: platform ten

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff

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evilminji · 10 months

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Ya'll know our BELOVED? Little Baby Man?

The noodliest ghosty boy?

What if he WAS Baby? It wouldn't be the first time Danny's enemies plotting gave him offspring. Only this time it's not a clone! It's a proper GHOST baby. Like Lunch Box.

Who's the other parent I hear you ask?

Pretty human-centric view point there buddy, to assume Ghosts NEED two participants to make an offspring. OR are limited to two! Just cause Lunch Lady And Boxie are a couple doesn't mean that's the standard!

We lack data here! ASSUME NOTHING. *sciences harder in your direction*

*awkward cough*

*shuffles notes*

ANYWAY! The child! All it would really take is one(1) VERY poorly timed ambush attack. Imagine if you will, a cell. How does it multiply? While not even close, the simplistic images ARE pretty good as an explanation!

But isn't that just an ecto-clone? You say?

Close!

But THOSE? Are hollow bags of GOO!

No CORE! *slaps the chalkboard behind me*

However! If you wanted, say, a precious bundle off joy? Well, nothing can come from perfect void! You must contribute the building blocks of LIFE! And what are those, my students, in ghost biology??!

Two vital pieces! The Ectoplasm aaaaaaand? That's RIGHT!

The CORE!

A critical and ever vital part of ghost biological function.

Which, like every OTHER part of the body, is malleable. One could, say, make it smaller. Create part of a proto core. OR, should one be ALONE in this process, a FULL protocol.

Upon which, ectoplasm latches, builds, develops and grows. Becomes its own soul.

Now! Do Not mistake me! There is a WILDLY vast difference between the formation of a core and a shattered core. Between willing life and untimely second death. It is not, and never WILL be, easy to create the soul of a child. Tampering with your core is PAINFUL, dangerous, and leaves you WILDLY vulnerable.

There is a REASON Neverborn are so precious.

Buuuuut..... *pulls out a book labeled "Curses Though The Ages"* we must ALSO consider the famed Fenton Luck(tm).

Consider! Where would be the "safest" place to practice making clones of yourself? A place that's wide open. No one wearing white likely to take pot shots at you while your attention is divided in multiple places at once. No parents blowing up the basement at a delicate moment and leaving you trying to hide that extra arm for a week...

Maybe you forget... oh yeah... OTHER GHOSTS.

So there Danny floats. In the Zone. DISTRACTED. His core HUGE from all that recently Royal business as it tries to digest it. Feeling bloated. Trying to work off some energy, as it were. Then who should come along? Why, the universes BEST HUNTER of course! To say *gun powering up noise* :) HI :)

Like buddies DO.

Danny doesn't see him.

Danny is mid-split.

At his limit, honestly. Already made as many copies as he usually can. Is trying for ooooone moooooore..... when...

PAIN. Something cracks.

He loses concentration. Tries to curl in on himself.

Both 1.5 of him tries. He loses hold of the "clone's" Ecto. Somethings free floating leaving his chest along with it. Behind him, Skulker is freaking out. That was MEANT to be on opening volley. A gentle little "hey, come fight me". That crack sounded SERIOUS.

Danny can't breathe. It's like the portal all over again. He curls tighter and tighter. Feels the crown, which was not THERE until this moment, press down tight and gripping onto his head. Thrumming. And then... something feels like a muscle releasing.

His core is... smaller? He'd been watching its progress, it couldn't have digest so fast... how did it lose so much... mass...

Danny feels all the blood drain from his face.

He nearly died.

Again.

His... his soul... WHERE IS HIS SOUL?? That's a piece of him! A part of his SOU-!

He spins around... only to meet the eyes off a blearly blinking, noodlish, cartoon like gremlin with his color scheme. Who's floating along like they're in zero-g. Just... drifting in a slow circle.

They yawn at him with a mouth full of teeny tiny baby fangs. Then chirp.

That's his Son. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know WHY, but he somehow instinctively... just... KNOWS?

They blep.

Danny looks a Skulker. His eyes hold MURDER.

"You're paying child support."

"......yes sir."

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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yuri-is-online · 5 months

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Daytime TV Dreaming (A Fyuuture Kid AU Drabble ft. Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle)

While camping in the mountains during Camp Vargas, you encounter a monster exactly like the one you fought off with Ace and Deuce at the beginning of the year. While trying to fight it off again, a strange portal opens up in the mine and a person jumps out of it to your rescue. He says he doesn't remember much, but it's clear when you bring him to Crowley that this boy is also from your world, despite being a mage, and until the headmage can think of a better solution, he assigns "Yutu" to your dorm.

Something a certain someone has an opinion about.

notes: When I was re-working my masterlist I deleted a fic that I meant to be the start of a series where Yuu’s child travels back in time to try and prevent the destruction of Twisted Wonderland and their parent's untimely death. For some reason I wrote that child as having been born after Yuu was forced to leave Twisted Wonderland with modified memories, so he doesn't actually know that much about his dad until he gets iseakaid just like Yuu did to attend Night Raven in a much more dystopian setting. Anyway if I ever go back to that concept I'll probably re work it, but I thought it would be fun to share my notes about the guys reaction to this newcomer who gets sorted into Ramshackle Dorm. They/them used for Yuu as always but they are implied to be afab, "Yutu" is not meant to be the child's real name, and he is meant to be wearing a disguise to make his identity less obvious. Actual fic can be found on my masterlist.

Heartsabyul

Ace- is legitimately worried about the intentions of this weird newcomer but it comes off as him being a jealous brat so no one takes him seriously. Look, something just doesn't feel right about this! Your world doesn't have any mages but now one shows up? And he's weirdly familiar with you? Cmon someone other than him start asking some questions please! Tries to have "a talk" with Yutu, who is trying really hard to understand what his parent saw in his dad and... just not getting it at all. RiP Ace you have been assigned cringe before the kid has even been born.

Deuce- only concerned with making a good impression because if this person is from Yuu's world then they might value his opinion on.... things. Also an honor student would try to win over his crush on his own merit and not by intimidating potential competition. Actually ends up befriending Yutu and really liking his vibes, which gives the boy a lot of guilt because he knows his dad would probably feel very guilty if he knew what his son's life has been like.

Trey- he is slightly worried about how Yuu will handle having to take care of an actual person and not just a monster, but he also feels like it is none of his business so he doesn't pay too much attention. But then Yuu mentions that Yutu is a pretty talented baker and that's why they haven't been bugging him for sweets as much. Well isn't that just ADORABLE??? Trey isn't upset about this at all nope, not one bit. He's extremely upset and Yutu is stirring the pot because he thinks making his dad angry is funny.

Cater- oh look, another person who won't be a part of his life eventually. He doesn't get any weird vibes from Yutu so he doesn't worry about what his appearance might mean too much, but there is something about the way the newbie insists on trying to be his friend that reminds him a lot of Yuu and isn't helping with this whole "denial of the crush" thing he is trying to do. If he didn't know any better he would think Yutu was doing it on purpose.

Riddle- immediately starts butting into Yuu's life more to give them advice about being a proper housewarden. Not that he didn't already see them as one, it's just disciplining a human student and disciplining Grim are a bit different and no he is not using this as an excuse to spy on the Prefect how dare this brat suggest his intentions are impure?!?! (Ah but you see Riddle you can't just take Yutu's head off in front of their Prefect because you want them to liiiike you and he is so going to use that against you.)

Savanaclaw

Leona- understands that something is not quite right as Yutu's explanation of who he is doesn't quite pass the sniff test. Literally, the brat smells like Yuu with his magic and since Leona was one of the people who got a good look at the portal Yutu came through he pieces things together pretty quickly. Not that he immediately goes and pulls a Vader on the kid, he just makes it clear he knows there is some time travel involved and demands to know what his goals are. He can leave the family shit for after he's secured the kid's existence.

Ruggie and Jack- while they have different opinions on the new kid, Leona's sense of smell still tells him Yutu's identity and as their dormleader he feels the need to take them aside and mention what he knows... sort of. He tells them that he's pretty sure time travel is involved and that Yutu is related to Yuu, but he neglects to mention the whole bit about who he thinks the father is... which drives them insane in completely different ways.

Ruggie thinks that since you clearly have a thing for beastmen anyway he would be stupid not to shoot his shot. He doesn't give two shits about whether or not Yutu is his kid, time isn't real so he can just rewrite it a bit.

Jack is determined to treat Yutu fairly and protect him since you are his friend and that's what friends do for each other's kids. Has a full blown panic over whether or not this might give the kid an identity crisis and takes him aside to reassure him he doesn't want to replace his real father, and that he will be happy as long as Yuu is happy. que the world's most awkward conversation

Octavinelle

Azul- Oh? Ramshackle has a new dorm member? And he's a mysterious mage... allegedly from the same world as Yuu... something doesn't make sense here but while he is figuring that out. Capitalism ho! This is a great money making opportunity he is observing and scheming and thinking about the perfect contract to get Yutu to spill all his secrets. Unfortunately, Yutu seems to be afraid of him for some reason? Not Floyd or Jade, just him. He can't say he dislikes it... but it is a bit odd, at least it gives him something to talk about with you???

Floyd- Also saw the portal that Yutu came through and thinks something must be up with how close the guppy seems to want to be with Yuu. Starts calling him baby shrimpy as a joke because of how clingy he is to you, but he really really hates it. He can't fight baby shrimpy because that will make you not like him, and he can't scare baby shrimpy off with a deal because he's weirdly smart with those sort of things. He also seems to really look up to Floyd... like that one spiderverse meme, and Floyd hates it! he already had a hard enough time getting Yuu alone when Grim was around he doesn't need a second baby unless it's actually his >:CCC

Jade- a new mage? How delightfully unpredictable. He's probably the only one genuinely happy Yutu is around because of how funny the story of his arrival is. The only upsetting thing about this is that he wasn't able to go camping with Yuu himself. Like Azul he senses something is wrong with Yutu's story, but he doesn't intend to press him until he has the new kid's trust. He's just here to help after all, there's nothing to be afraid of so long as there is no need for him to be jealous.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #heartslaybul x reader #savanaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #future kid au #haha get it his name is yutu because he is-#(named after the chinese moon rover “Yutu/Jade Rabbit” because of the similarities between chang'e/kaguya's situation and yuu's)#-yuu 2 :DDDD #... i technically have wildly different headcannons for yutu's real name and personality based off who his dad is but meh

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slow-motionlovepotion · 1 year

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𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: boston era! joel miller x f!reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.6k

𝒂/𝒏: i woke up at 5am this morning and smashed this out rather than working on any of my other numerous wips ~ no beta (or edit), we die like men - minors do not interact.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ ~ sex work, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), slightly coercive behaviour, dirty talk (joel miller has a filthy mouth), creampie, mentions of drug dealing & murder (joel is a drug dealing murderer but that's canon so it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone), possessive!joel, kinda mean joel, joel is a tease, degrading language (whore, multiple times), idk i think that's everything

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: pleasure has a price and Joel is willing to pay whatever it takes to have you

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ⇢

Joel often heard talk from the other smugglers, of pretty girls that’d sink to their knees for a few ration cards or a couple of pills. He pretends not to, but he listens, acting like he couldn’t care less about their sordid activities.

“What about you Miller? You don’t fancy a visit to one of our girls?” Some ratty 20-something asks one day. Joel just rolled his eyes.

“You really think I’d pay for some whore you’ve all had your dicks in?” His disgust is false, an act. In truth, he’s no better than them, couldn’t care less how many guys a woman has fucked before him.

Besides he’s got Tess.

Except now he doesn’t. Doesn’t have a warm body to sink into, to fuck his stress out on. She’d cut him off, rightfully so, when she implied she wanted more and he continued to offer her exactly the same.

So when a comment is made in passing one night: “You hear Danny’s girls got into the whoring business?” His ears perk up.

He knows Danny, knew Danny, before Danny was resting not entirely in peace. If you were to ever leave the QZ and see a guy who looks an awful lot like Danny but, say, had mushrooms for eyes, no you didn’t.

Tess had been the one to deliver the bad news to you while Joel had stood uncomfortably in the hallway, listening to your broken sobs through the door.

Maybe that’s why Joel finds himself knocking at your door, long after curfew, just returned from a run where he’d listened to those arseholes describe in great detail how they’d be paying you a visit, all while Joel kept his back to them, hiding the hardness in his jeans as he’d pictured what he’d do to you himself. He really was no better than them.

“Joel Miller. To what do I owe this pleasure?” You smile but it’s tight and it doesn’t reach your eyes

“Can I come in?” He asks like this is normal behaviour but that’s the Joel you know, always direct and to the point no matter how rude it comes across. Gritting your teeth you step back, allowing him into your apartment.

“Nice place” he surveys your home, bathed in a soft pinkish light from the lamp next to your bed, a book discarded on the messy sheets.

“What do you want Joel?” You try phrasing your question differently to get him to get to the point. You’re tired, it’s been a long day and Joel is not easy company.

“I heard you’ve become a bit of an entrepreneur, started your own business” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you and you want to slink back to the shadows at his confrontation but you don’t, you stand firm, refusing to buckle under his stare.

You’d expected word to travel faster, you’d started working about a month after Danny’s untimely demise, all of a sudden fending for yourself, no longer benefiting from the additional earnings afforded the smugglers. You’d tried to keep away from that business, only taking clients that you knew had no connection with the likes of Danny’s friends and Joel Miller but maybe you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought.

“Do you have a problem with that?” You challenge. It’s awfully rich of him, coming into your home and giving you his opinion on your job, like his line of work is any better. He’s nothing but a glorified drug dealer and a murderer.

“Of course not. Why’d you think I’m here?" His tone is serious, this is not a social call, it’s business, your business.

“I thought you were with Tess?” You ask, more so to give yourself time to actually take in what he’s saying, not because you have any issues providing your services to men of an entangled nature.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions” he shoots back

“I don’t, usually. Just looking out for myself, last thing I want is Tess comin’ around here thinking I fucked her man”

Joel sighs, he’s not her man. Though he’s not surprised you would think that, people thought that before they started fucking and apparently still think that even after they’ve stopped.

“You ain’t gotta worry about that darlin’”

“Payment upfront” you concede and Joel nods, pulling a stack of ration cards out of his pocket.

“What’ll this get me?” He places his payment on your kitchen table and you eye the stack, easily enough ration cards to keep you living comfortably for months.

“Whatever you want” you say, you’ve done this for much less. But had you not been enticed by the thick wad of cards, you might’ve reconsidered that offer considering everything you know about Joel.

He thinks it over, dropping heavily into the corner of your sofa, one foot on the floor, the other muddying the already stained fabric.

“C'mere” he commands and when you’re close enough he points to the other end of the sofa “Facin’ me”

You sit, bringing your knees up to your chest, your t-shirt does nothing to cover your modesty but your shins are blocking the view Joel really wants.

“Spread those legs darlin’, show me what I’m payin for” he tilts his head expectantly.

You spread your knees, keeping one leg bent and dropping the other to the floor, your new position almost a mirror of Joel’s. You know he wants more, reaching down you pull the scrap of lace to the side, exposing yourself to his gaze.

He lets out a groan at the sight of you, cunt glistening despite the fact he’s not even touched you yet.

“Pretty girl” he breathes. His eyes flick to his offering on the table “Whatever I want?” He confirms and you nod “Ah-ah, words darlin’. I wanna hear you”

“Yes Joel, whatever you want” his hand flexes on his thigh and you can see the growing hardness in his jeans.

“Take it off” his command gives you some idea of how this is going to go, he’s going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it.

Your hands find the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips, slipping them down your legs and when you reach your ankles Joel holds his hand out, smirking when you drop the fabric into his waiting hand.

“And the rest darlin’” You pull your t-shirt over your head, revealing yourself to be bare underneath. The t-shirt drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you lean back, returning to your position, legs spread and on show for him.

Your fingers automatically slide between your legs, spreading your wetness up to your clit, circling the bundle gently. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you, hands quickly working at his belt and jeans, freeing his length with a relieved sigh.

Thick fingers wrap around his even thicker cock and it’s like your own personal fantasy, Joel Miller thrusting into his fist, just for you.

You increase the pressure on your clit but keep your pace slow, teasing. It’s a dangerous game to play, acting without instruction but while Joel is watching you with heavy eyes and he’s not telling you to stop, you continue, dipping your fingers into your cunt, bringing them up to show him the wetness coating your fingers.

He doesn’t stop you when you return your fingers to your clit, doesn’t stop you when you pick up the pace or when your breathing starts getting harder.

In fact he puts on his own show, spitting into his palm and picking up his own pace, twisting his hand over the head, his free hand tracing abstract patterns over his thigh.

You could get off like this, you’re going to get off like this, legs tensing and core tightening. A gasp gets caught in your throat as your orgasm builds, almost there, and then it’s gone.

A growl rumbles in Joel’s chest when his hand grabs your ankle and you’re pulled flat on your back. He’s hovering over you, hand pinning both of yours above your head, your thighs hooked over his.

“Not gonna come on your fingers” he pants by way of explanation, pushing the tip of his cock between your soaked folds, catching your clit and nudging at the entrance to your cunt. “Gonna come on my cock”

Joel buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp thrust, the stretch is so satisfying it sends a shudder up your spine that has your back arching and your hips tilting down into his, desperate to feel the ache that comes with being too full.

“Look at that, got my entire cock buried in you and you still want more” Joel taunts you, his arm slipping under the arch in your back as he withdraws and pushes back in again.

“Joel” you gasp as he fucks into you, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. His pace is unrelenting, thick cock dragging against your walls, the slight curve catching just right on that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake and your head go foggy.

“Say it again darlin’” it comes out as a snarl but there’s a hint of a plea in there.

“Fuck Joel, oh yes just like that” you push yourself further into him, his arm tightening to keep you there.

Your shoulders burn and your fingers are going numb with the restricting grip of Joel’s hand around your wrists. It’s intimate, too intimate, Joel’s breath hot on your face and his entire body flush against yours. Joel must think so too because he pulls out, hand around your waist flipping you over so your face is pushed into the cushions and your hips are raised. Before you can even catch your breath he’s forcing himself back into you.

“Fuck, so tight. Especially for a whore” you don’t expect your cunt to clench at that and Joel definitely doesn’t expect it either. He lets out a shocked laugh “You like that? Being called a whore?” He pulls out and slides back in, the action and his question pulling a sinful moan from you.

His pace from this angle isn’t so unrelenting but it’s harder and deeper, his hips and thighs flush against yours as he bottoms out, pulling out so you can just feel him resting at your entrance, so you feel the stretch of every thrust, over and over and over again.

“Such a whore, letting anyone fuck this cunt for a couple ration cards” his hand grabs your hair, tugging so your back is pressed to his chest and his arm wraps around your waist, thumb flicking over your sensitive nipple. The hand in your hair pulls, turning you to face towards the table and his payment “My whore now. Those cards should be plenty enough that you don’t need to do this with anyone else”

Like this, his cock nudges that spot inside you again and this time you cry out, ragged moans falling from your lips with every snap of his hips. And his words, god his words, wash over you like a too hot shower burning your skin.

“All mine, just for me. Not gonna let anyone else touch you” You don’t realise that’s a question until you feel a sharp smack to your rear. “Tell me you’re not gonna let anyone else touch you”

“Not gonna” you shake your head as you speak “only you”

“Tha’s my girl” he murmurs and oh you like that, the idea of being Joel’s girl, being the one he spends his nights buried inside.

“Yes, your girl, just for you” His mouth is on your neck and he bites down as you speak, sucking bruises onto your skin.

If it was anyone else you’d tell them to stop, no one wants a whore marked by another man but he owns you now so you let him. Hand reaching up to grab his hair, keeping his mouth on you, giving him permission.

His free hand works its way between your legs, flicking your clit with practised fingers and you’re suddenly right on the edge, release within reach, you just need a little bit more. As if Joel can sense exactly what you need his mouth breaks from your neck and his lips find your ear

“Is my whore gonna come for me?” He teases, pulling a frantic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ from you. “C’mon then”

The waves that had been steadily building crash over you, shaking violently as your cunt tightens and flutters around his cock, pulling him in deeper. Light bursts behind your eyes and your hands claw at his arm keeping you upright, nails biting into his skin. You don’t hear the scream you let out but you feel it burning in your chest and your throat. Your ears are ringing, muffling the sound of Joel talking you through it.

When you finally return to yourself Joel is still thrusting into you, your head resting heavily on his shoulder behind you.

“Gonna come in this cunt, fill you up” that snaps you back to reality

“No. Joel you can’t- can’t do that” you panic slightly, wanting to push him away but he’s too strong, grip too tight.

And really, if you’re being entirely honest, you don’t actually want to push him away, you want to take what he gives you but it’s unrealistic and you can’t let yourself want that.

“Yeah I can, you’re mine now. Or have you forgotten already?” You shake your head, no you haven’t forgotten but no he still can’t come inside you “don’t worry’ll get you the mornin’ after pill”

His words are slurred and his thrusts are losing rhythm and you realise he’s holding back, waiting for you to say yes. His arm around you squeezes in warning and you can feel him tense behind you. This is it, the ultimate trust exercise and it’s now or never. Your hand entangles with his around your waist and you nod.

“Fuck, yeah. Want it, wanna feel you fill me” His fingers tighten under yours and he picks up speed, fucking into you sloppily and panting against your temple.

With a final thrust and a groan you can feel in your own chest Joel spills into you, holding himself so deep it’s painful, ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on your walls with every drop of his release.

“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me” he breathes hot into your ear, hips twitching as he comes down from his high. He doesn’t let you go straight away, naked frame held tight against his fully clothed one. You untangle your hand from his when your legs start to ache, knees protesting as they dig into the well worn sofa, slumping forward when Joel finally releases you.

Your body is exhausted, eyes heavy and stinging with the effort of keeping them open. Joel’s up and redressed before you even think about reaching for your t-shirt, uncaring as you lay naked on your sofa, marked body on display for him.

Joel’s calloused fingers trace the blossoming bruises that litter your neck and shoulders, his touch surprisingly tender. His hands find yours and help you up so you’re sitting, holding your t-shirt out to slip into, the marks on your neck are visible above the neckline of your shirt and a dark sense of pride washes over him.

“I meant what I said, enough cards there to keep you comfortable for a while, don’t wanna hear you’ve been whoring yourself out again” His confession takes you by surprise, you honestly hadn’t thought he meant it, men say all sorts of things in the throes of passion, you’d know.

The realisation sends a shiver down your spine, you’re his girl now and you don't mind that one bit, the kept woman of Joel Miller.

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #joel miller one shot #kept woman | j miller #love potions writing #love potion writes #han writes

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ma1dita · 1 month

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when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.3k

summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. split povs: pollux, annabeth, your depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint

(posted 5/14/24, semi edited—def coming back to this)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking. In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why…why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, not children, Dad. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere. There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die than for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst

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