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headkiss · 11 months

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you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

Text

┌─ “ ! „ FLIGHTY

tw. uncle!satoru, incest, age gap, breeding, coercion, dirty talk, praise, brief choking, baby as pet name, some jealousy, degradation, corruption kink, sneaking around wordcount. 6.7k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @antique-remains ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning me and for being absolutely wonderful!! i really hope you enjoy your fic,, i had a blast writing it so i kinda went a little crazy with the word count but! hgdfsy listen i hear gojo satoru i jump into the deep end i hooopppee you enjoy it lovely!!! <33 and thanks a million to the beta readers ilY so much

gojo satoru x fem!reader

The door rattles with a loud noise as you make it two steps down the hall. Two whole steps before long arms wrap under your shoulders and you’re whirled around against an equally lanky body, while your giggles fill the hall. They echo down the old family house, pristine and proper, and give your mother a well deserved moment of rest as she rolls the suitcases inside. “Hey- There’s my favorite little squirt,” his lithe voice hums gleefully when you press a childishly sloppy peck onto his cheek and squish your face to his shoulder, and Satoru barely bothers to give your mom a quick smile before stealing your entire attention away and putting you into his neck with a smile.

“You gotta visit more frequently, nee-san. I gotta show my favorite niece what I’ve learned at monster school, don’t I?”

Your chubby cheeks glow hot as you parrot him. “Monster!”

“Your only niece. And you’re more than welcome to take a few babysitting shifts, Satoru. Lord knows I could use it,” the soft-spoken woman would then chuckle, and leave you to it.

That’s how it was, always. You remember finding the days where snow stuck to the ground and made the house feel so much toastier, the most lovely of all- no excuses, no exceptions. Not that you could give a reason as to why, back then. It was probably because winter meant family time and holidays and presents, and most of all, it meant packing everything up into the car and driving down for New Years. Without fail, a white winter meant Gojo Satoru — and without fail, you’d look towards him like a world faithfully orbits the sun.

You can’t thank Satoru enough for taking his role so gracefully, at the time. When it was still fun.

Now winter means being locked up in your room while that same man parades around a different princess each year, and makes your start to the new entirely unenjoyable. After a good few hours of hearing the drinking and talking grow louder and louder -and then eventually quieter again, you finally dare peak your head around the corner. Because if you’re lucky, uncle Satoru will have no self-control. And the copious amounts of alcohol that festivities require will leave him blissfully unaware of your scowl at the foreign pair of shoes by the door. Your bare feet pad on the floor as you make your way past the soft rumble of the tv, and into the kitchen to pop open your own box of cake, and another bottle of bubbles for yourself.

The frosting sticks to the roof of your mouth three bites in, and makes everything a lot more palatable. The smell of the obnoxious festive scented candles, the deep beats of the slow make-out music reverberating through the walls of his otherwise impeccable apartment. The knowledge that you’re meant to wait out the inevitable turnaround from festive cheer to loud moans down the hall as the countdown hits 0. It’s been this way for years now, and you find yourself wishing spring would come a little faster.

You’d never be so lucky, though. You drop the fork in surprise when long fingers sneak around your neck to squeeze gently at the soft parts of it, and a breath brushes over the shell of your ear. “Boo.” Festive cheer and a softer familiar musk overtakes your senses.

“Satoru, you dick,” you squeak out a little too loudly, halfway to turning when a strong arm wraps around your hips to allow him to slot a little closer to your back. He peers over your head at the cake, breath dusting over your hair. Uncaring, of course, about the level of appropriateness or the way it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Bit early for a late night snack, isn’t it? You could at least have asked your favorite authority figure to join you.” His smile gleams in the low light of the apartment like a million diamonds, white head of hair tousled and bed-head like. The hand on your hip squeezes ever so softly before you shake him off, and cross your arms over your chest in defiance.

“You’re barely an authority, let alone my favorite. Besides, aren’t you kept busy with… Keiko? Kyoko?”

“—Kimiko. Why?” It’s then you make the mistake of looking up into those perfect baby blues through the half-tinted shades, and despite your earlier frostiness, he still searches for a handhold on your shoulder, softly brushing his thumb along the collar of your shirt. He stares like he can see through you, where your heart beats wildly in your chest. You’d dare bet money that sometimes he definitely tries to. But the calculating glances that flick over your face are kept quiet by a faint hum.

“She’s gone home. I thought maybe we could celebrate New Years together this time.” Satoru is always smiling. It crinkles his eyes, seems to ooze out of him like syrup. He’s good at that. At feeling trustworthy. But— “We still have a good twenty minutes until the fireworks. Come celebrate. For me?” There’s no mistaking the way he leans in to nudge your face up and puts on an exaggerated puppy-like pout. Gojo Satoru is anything but trustworthy.

But hard lessons are slow to stick. You find your mouth opening almost like instinct, sugar-coated tongue running over your lips as he waits. “Fine, until after the fireworks. Only ‘til then.” His mouth corners go a little more cat-like when the grin grows further, and he rubs his heavy palm and long fingers over your head with a soft chuckle.

“Right? You’d never leave your poor old, lonely uncle Satoru alone on a special day, right?”

The couch is abandoned for a slower sort of swinging around the living room once the clock starts getting close, and Satoru places another flute of golden bubbles into your hand— grinning as you move to the beat. Try and resist as you may, Satoru has given you much to be thankful for. The heat of his hand back on your head distracts you from the way the drink goes down too quickly, letting him pick your hand into his to pull you closer. “Have you ever slow danced before, pretty girl?”

You don’t get to say anything before you’re in his arms, hands to his chest and quickly sliding down to wrap around him instead, swallowing down the stirring heat that hits when he chuckles. You must be crazy. Must be. Your heart feels like it’s banging in your throat. But Satoru rests his chin on your head into the embrace, and swallows you up into his arms. And your throat burns like a raging fire yet again. It isn’t like that. It isn’t like that. You’re the one making it weird, and you know it. But you can’t help the goosebumps when he presses a kiss to your crown, or when he pauses to look down at you.

Grinning like he’s got the world in his palm, he leans in to almost brush noses with you. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Gojo Satoru,” you immediately feel the warmth flare up on your cheeks and ears, eyes going wide. But the grin is back instantly, and he chuckles.

“Alright, don’t get your panties into a twist.” The air of his breaths dusts over your nose when he stares, and doesn’t look away. “You’re so obvious when you want something. It’s cute.” He’s awfully, disturbingly pretty. However weird it is to notice that about your own mom’s brother… you never were able to lie yourself out of that conclusion.

The clock ticks loudly, counting down. But you can’t tear yourself away, blinking blankly at the way he gives your face a once over, before those eyes find yours. Glittering brilliantly, pulling at your sanity. You did always adore him. The first few fireworks go off loud in the distance, when your own uncle Satoru dips down and kisses you. You freeze. Warm lips and tongue pressing into your mouth- he full-on kisses you and runs a hand along your neck to pull you into him. A muffled squeak makes it’s way out of you, warm tongue getting to taste all of him. You- you don’t stop it. When he pulls back, his mouth lingers over yours, and that devilish mouth whispers, “happy New Year, baby,” without any ‘sorry’s.

The flowers are already starting to bloom in the colorful pots that swing outside the windows when you nurse your own cup of tea, and don’t bother lowering your eyes when bright azures meet your gaze. There’s something there that tingles your tongue, faint memories biting at your conscious, but too swift to grab hold of. You can’t read him anymore. It makes the familiar glint in them feel anxiety inducing. The gaze shifts, and you feel your spine relax. All tall, perfect, unfairly casual grandeur of him goes back to entertaining your cousins and Megumi— and your attention is finally allowed to shift back to your mom.

“Deary me… That child seems like he’ll never grow up,” she softly chimes, turning your way to take your hands, “I bet you’re twice the adult he is.” Her slight frown is one of fondness though, of care and concern; all of which only makes your stomach drop further. Your mom’s so enamored with her tight-knit little dream of a family. She’s completely unaware, too. Of the deadly, treacherous words that your mind whispers to you when it knows no one’s watching. Your mother’s warm smile remains. “If you ever decide you can’t keep up with him anymore, you’re more than welcome to move back home, honey.”

“I know, mom— but I like Tokyo. I like my friends here, and- my job’s here, and I like my job.” Her hand makes an encouraging circle over the back of your hand, and she nods.

Her warm smile doesn’t keep away the cold flare that travels down your back though. “And you also like Satoru, for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around.” Her look over in his direction has you resolutely studying your lap instead, as heat travels back from your chest to your face. “Even when you were little, your uncle ‘Toru could do no wrong. It was infuriating at times…” You try to put on a smile when you feel her eyes return back to you, and let the cup bear the brunt force of your anxiety. “Now I just think it’s sweet. I know I couldn’t deal with his antics anymore, for even a few days.”

“He’s…” You trail off before you can even get started, and let your tongue swipe along your bottom lip to get rid of the pesky memory again. You feel like your moral compass has been compromised. Your stupid little crush was meant to go unacknowledged, and fade. No one was supposed to be any the wiser. Satoru was never meant to do wrong. He’s -what- exactly, you try to ask yourself. Sneaky? Childish? The reason you can’t look your own family in the eye without blushing like a schoolgirl?

Your heart blooms when you catch a glimpse of his smile as the beer bottle brushes his lips, and he finds your shape again across the room.

Before you get a chance to look away, uncle Satoru’s already calling your name again with that sing-songy tone that’s got you hooked; and pulls you out of your seat with a few slow blinks. “There’s my favorite girl.” He swings an arm over your shoulders, and invades your senses yet again. “It’s getting a little too stuffy in here for your liking, hm? Mind if I steal her for a while?” His sister barely gives him the tiniest of eyerolls before waving you both off. And the white-haired force of nature doesn’t even stop to ask you. He knows he’s right.

Before long, the glances of family get captured by other things, and the honorary member of your family gives you a knowing look that you mirror. Not that Satoru would let it stop him if he saw. You only just look away from Megumi’s grimace before you freeze into place. There’s the tiniest of kisses to the skin behind your ear where Satoru whispers in your ear. “I was really missing you, baby.” There’s a heat that spreads all over you as he continues, barely hiding his affections. “Whenever I see you… I just wanna…”

Your eyes go wide when you turn to stare at him, then quickly around at the rest of the guests. Luckily, everyone seems too preoccupied to notice the way he wraps his arm around your waist to steer you towards the front door. “What? I wasn’t done.” he chimes, eyes glinting over like the Chesire cat, “I wanna come annoy you, is what I was going to say.” Alarm bells should go off. You want them to signal your disaster. But no such thing happens, and the way his lips almost drag over your pulse makes your entire body feel like you’re filled with static. “You know uncle Satoru loves you. Step out with me for a bit.”

The miserable drum of rain has no way of drowning out the thoughts in your head. A heat-caused thunderstorm should just be a minor inconvenience, but it feels awfully telling about your current state. The string of messages of Satoru’s latest -what you can now assume is- ex blink back at you as you check the time again, and sink deeper into the couch. The apartment always feels a little too cold when you’re here alone. And sure, you’ve been living here too, but you’ve been on your very best behavior all this time. Taking up only the space he was willing to give.

So you sit in silence as the room gets darker and darker, and instead of checking up on work mails, you let the icy silence of the apartment sit beside you. The messages weren’t exactly frantic, but— the door clicks softly across the room, and the pitter patter of the rain on the skylight grows even more impatient. “Uncle ‘Toru,” you breathe as he drags his wet self in, only to suck your bottom lip into your mouth.

There’s only a few times you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing him like this. One was the first summer his best friend vanished into thin air, a shallow copy of your beloved left behind in its wake— and every few years after that. It drains all the color out of him, squeezes until there’s nothing left.

He looks drunk. He smells drunk too. But you still cross your arms and straighten your back, swallowing. “Ki-chan was worried about you. She says you two broke-”

“She’s right.” Satoru drops his bag by the tv, and unceremoniously kicks off his socks in the middle of the living room, slauntering towards the couch.

“Is that why you’re like this?” Your worry is undermined by a harsh snort and an equally unamused chuckle, before the white-haired man comes to a halt before you.

“Don’t be stupid. You and I both know it’s not.” His eyes are usually like the ocean on a summer day, bright, all-consuming, and peaceful— there’s nothing there when they land on you now. Just the dark, dreary image of a cloudy, uncaring vastness. “Get up, I’m trying to sleep here for the night.”

“I’m not leaving.” You’re not sure if the slight tremble in your voice is self-inflicted, but do your best to bite through the electric tension. “She also said that you’ve been saying all kinds of things that make no sense. Things about— me. And that’s why you guys broke up. She’s worried that you might try to do something to me.” Gojo Satoru is a lot of things. More things than a man with his constitution should be, all in all. Your light breath cuts the tension just enough for you to speak up again, staring up at him from your increasingly vulnerable position on the couch. “Well, will you?”

“Get up.” Before you have another chance to ask more, he takes you by the arm and pulls you up out of the couch in a split second, leaving you stumbling back. “Run off to your room now.” Smart, coherent thoughts leave you. Satoru looks like he’s hurting. Those long, white lashes and blue irises are no longer bright and understanding. They frame a simple look of distaste at the sight of you, and your rapid heartbeat falters. “I said, now.” As your tongue brushes your lips you search for something— anything— to say, but it seems he doesn’t want to let you. With large steps, he walks you back by your collar until your back hits the wall, and you stare up at him.

“Isn’t it bad enough that I already want you? What more do you need?” The cold, still wet touch of his thumb brushing your collarbones tingles down your entire body. “Tell me off. Hit me. Do something.” He’s basically begging now, through hard glares, teeth and a raspy voice. “Tell me off for treating you like this.”

You think you should. But all that you manage to say is a soft plea, eyes searching in the dark. “Uncle Satoru, I- I’m sorry.”

“Baby.”

His grip makes your shirt dig uncomfortably into your neck, but you barely feel it. Instead you raise your hands to cup his face, watching how the furrowed brows straighten out after only a few tight breaths. You mumble out a breath of his name, and allow him to pull you closer to his body until you’re pressed to his chest, face hidden against his collarbones. Until he leads you to look up at him and lets his lips brush over your eyelids, and the tip of your nose. “Your mom would kill me if she knew.”

You know him to be right. And still, you let his mouth meet yours. Meet and claim your tongue, hiking your one thigh up to allow him to melt against you. Rolling his narrow hips just a little too effectively against you. It’s way too much all at once, hot and cold meeting in the dark where his body grinds against you. You shouldn’t… allow any of this, right? But it feels too good to stop. Satoru clearly thinks so too when he grunts your name against your mouth, and his crotch rubs into your center.

It’s not hard to know what he’s thinking about as he drags his lips down the soft of your throat and sucks kisses into the skin. His strong fingers slide under your shirt to anchor at your waist, and leave goosebumps all over. “My pretty girl,” he ends up mumbling as his tongue makes shapes at the base of your throat, “you’re all mine. All fucking mine. Mh- never gonna let anyone have you.” It feels so good. Hearing that, however distorted by the moment— makes you feel like you’re floating. So much so, that it scares you. To think anyone would have such power over you.

Satoru goes in for another kiss, but you end up sliding out of his arms by mere chance, panting and shivering from the wet hands all over you. You take one single deep breath, and rush off down the hall.

When you sit at dinner the next day, rolling your veggies around your plate as you cast him weary glances from under long lashes, Satoru doesn’t falter. Doesn’t even blink out of place once, like the night before was just a dream. You’d really believe the slight ache of a hickey at the base of your throat to be an unlucky bruise, if you couldn’t notice the faint glances your way. After a while, his telltale grin slips back on when you startle at his voice, and he points his fork towards you. “You’re acting weird, you know that?”

“I- I’m acting weird?” Your voice pitches up almost comically, and his gleeful chuckle has your heart racing despite yourself. “W- about yesterday-”

“I’m taking you somewhere tonight.” Though the interruption should annoy you, he looks so content and smug as he stuffs the last of his food into his cheek, that you can only frown. His hand runs through his mess of white hair, noisily smacking his food as if to make a point. When you don’t immediately respond, he nods to himself, before leaning in. “I woke up with the worst headache of my life, I’ll have you know. But I’ve gotten over myself, I promise. And now I just want to hang out with my favorite niece.”

“Only niece,” you end up parroting, clenching and unclenching your hands into your skirt. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Call me ‘uncle ‘Toru’ again, and I’ll tell you.” You never tell him no.

As you walk through the hall with slow steps, the light falls like broken petals through the paper walls and casts everything in a hazy glow. For all your protests, uncle Satoru follows close behind, chirping all kinds of encouragements, giggling most of the way through. The lazy patterns he draws on your shoulders with his thumbs, or the brief brushes of his nose along your cheek, kisses behind your jaw— it all should make you feel a lot guiltier than it does. Instead you’re just wound up, skin tingling with every touch the longer it lasts.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re here now?”

He hums that melodic agreement, before pointing you towards the rather familiar door at the right. “If you go in there, I will.” At your slight frown, he only presses on. “I promise. Come on, trust your favorite uncle.”

“You’re not my favorite.”

His voice grows low as his lips brush your ear, and those strong arms start gliding down the sides of your back. “Liar.” The kiss that is pressed to your pulse is slower this time, humming in your throat and making you swallow your words. His mind hasn’t changed after you ran out. Instead of focusing on that- on him, you reach for the door and slide it open, finding your and Satoru’s room barely changed at all. His hands come to press at the sides of your hips, long fingers trekking all over the skin he can reach. “I’ve been thinking for a while now…” His playful voice dips a little lower, and your breathing grows slower and slower. “I always meant it when I said you were my favorite... but-”

“But it’s a little different now, hm, pretty girl? When did you change so much?” Those hands that start sliding up along your thighs to hike your skirt up to your belly, and though you try to keep it down with a little breath, he denies it. “You don’t like it? That I wanna see all of you?” The little hum to your soft throat makes you feel like you’re charged to the brim, crackling each time he moves. It’s unbearable, and yet, you couldn’t move a muscle if you tried. “Tell me that I’m a bad guy.”

You can’t focus on anything. His nimble fingers toy with the edge of your panties, and the puff of his breath sends a shiver down your neck. “W-why’d you take me to our old- ah- place?” Satoru doesn’t wait for you to catch up before the frilly fabric drags along your thighs. Your awfully wet underwear lands around your feet, and he leans in to nudge your face to his. Kissing you over your shoulder as his body covers you from behind, and his waist pushes up against you. His tongue steals your attention away from his hands just long enough to lose track of them before they’re on your tits, squeezing them and making your cunt clench in anticipation.

“Because I wanted to prove something.” He rolls his clothed waist against your ass and makes that awful feeling even worse, forcing a whimper out of you. And that mind-numbing fucking laughter returns before his hands start moving to your center. You’re not sure if you want to push him away or ride his fingers with the slow drag of rough fingertips along the inside of your legs— not that it’s up to you anyway. “You’re no longer that good girl that’d idolize uncle Satoru, right? You’ve started thinking about other things when I’m around, hm?”

Fingers slide through the embarrassing amount of wetness between your legs with another noise from him, pressing his hardening cock harder against you and grinding it against you- and you have to fight the urge to just get face down on the floor for him. “F-fuck, baby, you’re already dripping all over my hand. Does uncle ‘Toru turn you on?” Two prodding digits slide into your clenching hole as he grins against your cheek, and his free hand meanly pinches a nipple. “C’mon, tell me. Tell me how much you like me.”

“Mh-ack, I- li-like you.” He goes to pull his hand back but you reach for it, and push it back inside to have his hand palm rubbing up against your clit. “A lot, I like you a lot! Please.” The curl of his long fingers inside you is enough to have you shaking, leaning back against his chest with one shoulder, and hanging onto his wrist. It doesn’t take much to have him smiling into the hickey he’s sucking under your jaw, and fighting back your resistance just enough to start pushing another finger inside. The slight ache is almost instantly replaced with the pleasure of having your clenching pussy filled so full. Everything blurs a little when you reach back for him for support, and his strong hand fucks smoothly in and out of you. “Mhm, ah, ah, I love my uncle Satoru. Sa. To. Ru.” Slick runs down your leg and makes his entire hand sticky, and he hums in agreement.

“That’s a good little niece. Love riding my fingers like this? You’re shaking, baby.” He knows what it does to you, must’ve known for a while, when his voice is pressed to your skin— it leaves you a mess. You try to respond, but your tongue gets all tangled, and you can only whimper and nod as his fingers fuck right into the spot you need them to. Your back curls against him as your legs get shakier, and your poor clit is grinded against his palm until you can’t focus on anything else. It feels so good. Good, good, good, good~ You want to keep riding his fingers forever.

“Lay down for me,” he rasps when you really start rubbing back against his hand, pussy so messy and full and your lips glossy with spit— and you almost cry when he starts pulling back.

“No, no no nonono, uncle Satoru, please. I’m close,” you squeak, only to allow him to push you down by your shoulder and watch as he slots his fingers between pink lips. “Hm- I- can I cum? Please?” Your thighs rub together as you lay down, and Satoru kneels before you to pry them open wide enough to fit his shoulders between.

“Shh, lift your ass,” he quickly chants, getting comfortable between your legs as his hands pry you open, “let me taste my favorite pussy the way I want.” His devilish mouth is on you before you can register it, hot and instantly too much. Your puffy clit is laved in licks and sucks that hit the spot just right, and every nerve end fires in a way that no one else could ever accomplish. His hums and the brilliant glint of his eyes as he watches you tear up and moan, lifting your ass closer to his face as his tongue licks and fucks your dripping pussy. He laughs when eating you out so good your eyes cross, before latching his mouth around your overstimulated nub for real, and sucking the light out of your vision.

Your legs shake before you’re clenching them around his head with a long, high-pitches whimper and a string of moans that roll through your body— and Satoru just keeps going, until you’re twitching and you try to push him away. Your breathing is rapid and shallow as you blink the black spots on your vision away and loosen the grip you have on his hair, but your legs still shake as he brushes his thumb over your pussy without pity. “That’s one. Wanna see how many more I can get you to?”

“No,” you immediately squeak, making his smug grin grow even wider. “I wanna… first, wanna have you- i-inside.” Admitting it is different than thinking it. And you’ve thought it, too much to count- but it still heats your cheeks and ears upon seeing the way Satoru’s lashes flutter a little, and he pushes his pants down to take his flushed cock out.

“Yeah? You want your uncle Satoru’s big cock inside you?” His hand wraps around his thick length with a little hiss, sliding his hand over the swollen, dark pink tip as you watch. “Say it properly, and I’ll give it to you.” You roll onto your side to yank your shirt up over your tits, and impatiently shake your ass as you whine out a noise that barely seems to register as you. But you can’t help it. The buzz from your orgasm only made your belly hotter, slicking up your legs and ass and dripping for him- as he sits up on his knees so slide his pants down further.

“Satoru~ please.” His hand moves up and down a few times as he raises a brow, and knocks away your hand when you try to touch yourself. “Please, please, puh-lease~” Your voice cracks when you lay back instead, and knead your tit as you try to pull him closer by wrapping your legs around him. “I want to have- uncle ‘Toru’s cock. I want to have my own uncle’s cock, I love my uncle- and I want- to be his personal pussy to use~” Tears spring up in the corners of your eyes, so you close them. “Now please just put it in. I’ve waited long enough-”

A little chuckle breaks up your begging before he kisses you deep and greedily, and suddenly the hot head of his cock pushes up against your sopping entrance. “Want it so bad you gotta cry about it? Poor baby.” He just about pushes in the slightest bit, and takes a slow breath to stare into your eyes. Pretty. So fucking pretty, all of him. “Sorry I made you wait. Uncle will fill this little niece's pussy up, don’t worry.” Then he pushes in with a slow press on your tummy that makes you blink back tears, as his heavy, hot cock breaks you open a little further, along with your sanity.

The smack when he bottoms out is a brief relief, before he pulls back and uses those strong legs to start really fucking into you, nose to nose. “Letting your own family fuck your greedy pussy like this, look at you. I’m a bad influence, hm?” The weight of him, the brushing of his pelvic bone to your clit, the grip on your thigh and brushing of your tits and every brief brush of his lips over yours is enough to have that coil pull back so tight in your stomach too quickly. You dig your nails into his muscular back as each pap of his balls smacking against your slick-covered ass rings out in the room, and the white-haired man hums. “Uncle Satoru’s your favorite, say it. That you’ll beg for my cock until you go hoarse.”

He presses his nose to your temple, and pants against you- fucking with a rhythm that’s taking the breath out of you. You’re already going to cum again. “Say that you want uncle Satoru’s kids filling up your belly, ahg- go on— mhm, that tight, t-tight fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, I want my uncle’s cum inside! My favorite uncle’s ruining my pussy!” you squeak, and then cry out against his neck. “I’m gonna cum again, uncle ‘Toru. G-gonna- agh-ughn- p-please don’t stop.” The thrusts get even deeper if that’s at all possible, lifting your one leg up to grind the head of his cock against your cervix with the position he’s got you in, and goes to cup your pussy. And even that slight touch is enough to have your vision going black and white, head blanking as another orgasm rolls over you and locks your leg around his hips— but the fucking doesn’t stop even then. “Agh-mygodI-ah, ahgh-nh. Uncle Satoru.”

It’s too much, you’re entirely too hot and sweat is rolling down your temple and his chest, but his cock still drives home over and over again like he’s willing to break you in half. You don’t want him to ever stop. “Hearing that filth coming out of your mouth- ugh, mhm, makes me want to keep fucking you forever. For eternity.” His waist bumps your overstimulated clit each time he bottoms out, ring of white around the base of his cock before he throws his head back and moans out your name. “You can’t ever let anyone know how much uncle Satoru loves fucking his little niece, okay? F-fuck. How much I love ruining that little attitude of yours.”

Your both knees are pushes to your shoulders as he moves up, pulling out just a second to fuck between the sloppy lips of your pussy. “Been wanting to fuck you since you moved in. Can’t help but get hard when you’re around. Bad uncle ‘Toru, right?” The head of his cock is so swollen and flushed and dripping with your mixed juices, and he stares at you through narrowed, perfect eyes as he pushes back in and watches his cock disappear into the hot clutch of your pussy, swallowing it up like a whore. His lip is pulled between his teeth as he groans, and fucks harder and faster into you like you’re barely a toy. “But I don’t care. Uncle’s gonna fuck this pussy every day from now on. My pussy. Mine.”

You can feel him in your throat with the way he pounds your pussy until you’re raw, squeezing your throat between his long fingers as his heavy balls hit you. And his mouth covers yours, tongues back together and spit messily covering your chin by the end of it. You don’t think eternity will be enough.

There’s some kind of failsafe inside every human, isn’t there? And yours is simply malfunctioning at the wrong times.

The woman hanging off his arm is lovely. Mina, you think it is. She’s smart and pretty and accomplished, and her hair has that perfect commercial shine as it bounces around her shoulders. And Satoru is laying on the sweetness thick, from what you can make out between the giggles and shiny smiles. Underneath the obnoxious shades hiding his pearly gaze from direct view as he makes quick work of scanning the beach. It sits in your stomach with an uncomfortable rumble. Even though you know… It’s for show. It’s all just for show.

You do your best not to frown when he looks back over his shoulder for a second to drag his eyes over you. “We should play beach volleyball!”

And a soft chuckle from the person by your side agrees when you can’t be bothered to. “You got it!” The blond is smart enough to give you a softly encouraging grin that makes you feel vindicated in your exasperation, before you stick up your own thumb. You have no intention of watching Satoru leave hot handprints all over her skin. The young man beside you clearly notices your hesitation, because he smoothes a palm down your spine to straighten you up a little, before blowing out a long breath that makes you smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll keep him busy if you’d rather lay in the shade for a little longer.”

Kenji’s fingers softly brush along the small of your back, then teasingly slips them under the knot of your bikini, as his mouth comes to hover over your ear. “Or we could sneak away for a little bit and…”

“And get caught for indecent exposure?” you giggle over your shoulder instead of letting him kiss you, and grab for one of the books that had gone untouched earlier in the day to tap it on his head. “We can’t,” you breathe with a smile, and watch as he takes that as a challenge. Really, you’re not one for fighting fire with fire. That’s Satoru’s play, and you don’t have any intention of mistreating anyone. But … the adoring gazes and personal attention does make the whole ordeal a lot easier to stomach. So easy even, that you’re down in the toasty sand with him above and your chest rising and falling rapidly for a few blissful seconds, before the volleyball hits the both of you on the sides.

Your eyes snap over to the head of white hair when he clears his throat, and holds his hands up in mock apology. Serene, picture-perfect smile plastered on his handsome face. You click your tongue, and you can’t hold back the angry echo of his name in your head as he walks up. “Sorry, sorry, my bad! You guys coming or what?” This whole song and dance is just— so frustrating. Despite your best effort to keep it in, a slight tick in your brow still makes its way onto your face.

“You guys start without me,” you breathe after a few seconds of staring Satoru down, allowing Kenji to pull you up from the sand to dust you off. “I’m going to go grab the sunscreen and the coolers from the car.” Kenji makes an attempt to stand, but you wave it off in favor of putting some space between you and the tallest as his crystal eyes drill holes through you. “No, I got it. Thanks though.”

By the time Satoru’s “girlfriend” walks up and slips underneath his arm, he raises a brow your way, and the glitter in his eyes makes you convinced that he knows just as well as you do. You do your best to ignore him — them, but you can still feel the sting of him appraising you through those stupid shades. Asshole. You swing your hips as you walk away, kicking up sand every time your slippers bounce up.

At least the short walk allows for a moment to cool off, and collect your thoughts. There’s no sense in getting fed up. He’ll just get home and start cracking jokes like always, pretending like he didn’t do something wrong in the first place. Nevertheless, you allow yourself only a short sigh and admittance of defeat in the little game you play as you click the trunk closed again.

Before you turn and walk into a solid chest, almost scaring you skittering back against the hot surface of the car. Large hands descend on you, one to wrap around your waist and the other covering your mouth- before he leans down further into your space. “So, so grumpy all the time.” Uncle Satoru’s rough handpalm slides down to grab a handful of your ass before he lowers his face to yours into a languid kiss, tongue tasting vaguely like strawberry as he drags it over yours with a hum. “Stop trying to make me jealous.”

“I’m— I’m not! And ‘m not grumpy. I just don’t want to see you,” you end up breathing out, wrapping your arms instinctively around his broad shoulders when those long fingers start toying with your pussy through the awfully flimsy fabric. “Satoruuu~”

His chuckle is matched with the impatient way he rubs two fingers up and down along your slit, and slides his other hand down your smooth stomach to start peeling it all off. “Call me uncle Satoru, c’mon baby. You know what I like.”

You barely have a chance to place your hand over your mouth to keep quiet as he noses your bikini top out of the way to drag his pink tongue languidly over your puffy bud— and those baby blues find you through wispy, white lashes. “Uncle ‘Toru, unc-cle ‘Ru— You’re gonna get us caught.” He sucks part of it into his mouth and leaves a mean mark with his teeth, before grinning.

“Hmm. I don’t care.”

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #tw.incest #tw.age gap #tw.breeding #tw.coercion #tw.dark content #tw.creampie #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.gojo

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?”

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

723 notes · View notes

formula1blog · 4 days

Note

hey could you write about Carlos Sainz. Y/N is a 24 year old Spanish journalist and she and Carlos flirt all the time in front of the camera and Lando and Charles make fun of Carlos because he is always looking forward to doing an interview with Y/N because they flirt hard every time. two that on twitter they created a hashtag on the flirting moments between y/n and carlos

Behind The Camera

Carlos Sainz x Spanish Journalist fem!reader

A/N: I hope this is wat you meant. I never worked with these fake apps before, so don't pay too much attention to dates and times.

One of the flirting scenes is highly based on that one Sebastian Vettel interview.

The paddock was buzzing with people from all around the world. Grand stands were filled with the colors of different teams and drivers. There were big crowds of orange for the hometown heroes, Max verstappen and Lando Norris.

Cheers were heard as Carlos crossed the finish line in p2, just behind his teammate and in front of his old one. The red bull had crashed out of the race after the touch when Sergio Perez tried to overtake the Dutch man. Unfortunately both of the cars tuned into each other, moving Carlos up to third. After the pitstops he had managed to do an undercut on the Mclaren driver and finished on the second podium place.

"That is P2, mate. Good job," his race engineer congratulated him through the radio, prompting Carlos to let out an excited scream.

"Vamos!" he exclaimed, parking his car in front of the P2 sign and stepping out with a wide grin on his face. Charles stood on top of his own car, proudly displaying one finger in the air to signify his win. Carlos congratulated his fellow driver on the victory before turning to his team and embracing them in a warm hug, celebrating their shared success. It is a good day for the Ferrari fans and that didn't happen often.

"Congratulations Carlos on your p2. How are you feeling?" You ask with a bright smile on your face. You always loved interviewing Carlos. He is always really nice and you have nice conversations behind the cameras. Also a plus point that he drives for your favorite team.

"Great now that you are here," he answers, his eyes twinkling as he gives you a wink that sends a shiver down your spine. You have to try hard not to blush at the man's charming comment. "It's a great day for the team with a 1-2 finish. I hope we have more of these moments to come."

"You were absolutely flying out there today. Your performance was outstanding. I am sure that you have more of these moments. "

Carlos smiles at your words, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Thank you. The car felt great and the team did a great job with the undercut." He had been looking forward to seeing you today after he heard you will do the podium post race interviews. Lets just say he had some extra motivation for this race.

"With the undercut you managed to get in front of Lando. Was it difficult to keep him behind?"

"Of course. He is a great driver and their car is very fast. He really had me concentrate those last laps. " Carlos looks back at where Lando was standing next to the race winner. Lando gave him a little smile for the comment.

"The safety car came at a good moment and you got a free pit from it. Do you think you could have had the same pace with the old ones?"

"The safety car did come at a great time. I was struggling with the tyres and really wanted to switch them. The team said I couldn't because then I had to drive out the race for the remaining laps and that was too many. So having an extra free stop really helped. "

"Any plans for after the race. How are you going to celebrate it?"

"I am sure there is a party planned already. Good thing is that it is summer holiday and we don't need to do training wasted." He jokes and you let out a laugh.

"Sounds great. Have any plans for the summer break? How are you going to spend your free time? "

"Well, What are your plans?" He smirks and you have to take a second to let your mind take in his comment. You want to play to game with him, but chose to be professional and do as if you don't get the hint.

"Nice of you to ask. I'm heading back to Spain to visit some family," you reply, trying to maintain your cool exterior even as your heart races at the thought of his attention turning towards you.

"I hope I see you around then, Hermosa" Carlos says, his smirk widening as he rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that sends a jolt of desire through you. You say your goodbyes before Lando takes his place in front of your camera.

Out of your sight Charles laughs at his teammate and gives him a pat on the back, a playful smirk placed on his face.

"What?" Carlos looks at him with confused puppy eyes. He takes his water bottle and takes a sip.

"What are your plans." Charles imitates his teammates question before letting out a louder laugh that turns the head of other people. "Mate, just ask her out already. It is painful to watch you keep flirting with each other."

"I ask her what her plans are. That is just being polite."

"Alright. And when you found out she was doing the post race interviews, you didn't smile from ear to ear because you would be seeing her again?"

"She is a great journalist and my friend. "

When Lando came back from his interview with you he had made the same remark as Charles and Carlos just groaned in reply. He was not going to hear the end of it.

The fans on twitter were going wild after the interview. It wasn't the first time you and Carlos had shared some flirty comments and there were fan pages dedicated to the two of you. There was even a tag going around with all the fans favorite moments of you two together that you weren't aware of.

Lando laughs as he opens twitter. He was at the celebration party after the race and he had sit down next to the two ferarri drivers after a round of shots.

" Whats so funny?" Carlos asks with a confused expresion as he tries to look at the Brits phone. Lando shows the Twitter reactions.

" Looks like you are the only blind one."

#carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 #formula 1 #formule1 #f1 imagine #Lando norris #charles leclerc

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lessi-lover · 5 months

Text

perfect for you II a.russo ~

author note - this is part two of ‘cleats and kisses’, and is loosely based around this request. anyways enjoy and have a holly jolly christmas 🎄 xx

23★ ~ a.russo

in the gentle embrace of the morning sky, the sun casted an unusual warm, golden, light through your large bedroom window. the window, adorned with soft, rustic curtains, slightly ajar, allowing the peaceful glow of the morning to filter through. framed photographs decorated the walls, each capturing a memory in time, all shared with your favourite blonde.

the same blonde lay peacefully in bed, with her hair spread out across your cream sheets. her face, half - buried into her pillow, only allowing calm, rhythmic breaths to leave her parted lips. a softly painted, hand draped itself across your waist, light pink nails slightly digging into your hips.

after a tough, but rewarding game against tottenham, all you wanted to do was allow your body to be welcomed by your lover’s comforting embrace, to feel the joyfulness of the holidays. you had quiet conversations discussing your plans for christmas, and enjoyed the unusual peacefulness you both felt.

her thumb gently traced patterns on your bare thigh, which was tucked tightly between her own pair of legs, a soothing gesture that would be able to ground you both in the moment.

“only if you’re ready to meet my family, lessi. they can be quite overwhelming.” your voice muffled by the blonde’s neck. during your 'cuddle session', your girlfriend had brought up the idea of potentially meeting the rest of your family for christmas. she had already met your parents couple months ago and the introduction couldn’t have gone smoother.

the blonde lifted her head from between your shoulder blades, her eyes filled with love and affection. “i’m willing to face the storm of mccabe siblings if it means i get to keep you,” alessia replied, arms wrapping tightly around you. a cheeky smile adorned her face, small dimples forming on the girl’s cheeks.

“absolutely love, and i promise i will tell them to keep the interrogating to a minimum,” you added, hoping to ease the girl of any worries. you had been dating for almost a year now, and making this step felt like a natural progression for your relationship.

“then saturday night sounds perfect, amore mio,” kissing your cheek, she gazed out the window.

the fading sunlight danced on her features, highlighting each perfection of her face, and you found yourself lost in captivation by her beauty.

"darling, are you sure i don’t need to go buy anything, and this outfit is appropriate?” the blonde asked, gesturing to what she was wearing. you had offered to help her get ready, knowing she was quite nervous about meeting your family.

“yes, i promise you don’t need to bring anything. and you look perfect, lessi, you always do,” you reassured her, a soft smile on your lips. you let the girl fuss over herself in the mirror one last time, the judgement in her own eyes, enough to make you cry.

“ready to go?” you asked the blonde, again she gave herself another look in the mirror and nodded, taking a deep breath. “okay, i can do this,” she said shakily. taking your hand, her confidence growing with your support.

the living room was alive with the sounds of a long - separated family finally together again. the house decorated with red, green and white tinsel, your christmas tree displayed proudly by the fire. the air thick with the smell of home- cooked food, and the walls echoed with laughter.

“hello, everyone!” you called out to your family, with a beaming smile, as the two of you entered through the front door, her hand firmly intertwined with yours. the living room erupted with cheerful greetings.

your family members were quick to welcome the both of you with open arms, instantly making the blonde feel like a part of the family. “how are ya!” your sister ella, was first one to reach you, excitedly engulfing you in a long awaited hug, nearly lifting you off the ground.

then came your youngest sister lauryn, and perhaps the one you missed the most. she crashed into you both, wrapping her arms around the both of you, before extending the invite alessia, pulling her into the embrace.

letting go, your sisters immediately started to create conversation with the blonde. her brows furrowed, both your sister's accents somehow stronger than the irish woman she saw daily, making it difficult for her to understand. questions about where you too met and how she dealt with you were dished out.

your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, as your siblings told your most embarrassing moments to your girlfriend. about to cut into the exchange and save the poor girl, you were abruptly swept up in another embrace, by another set of arms wrapping around you, this time belonging to your mother.

cupping your face, your mom let a few tears slip, in which you wiped away with a small chuckle. "far too long, darling," your mother whispered, holding you so tightly in her grasp, as if you would slip away if she let go.

you hadn't been home in almost a whole year now, your thigh injury meaning you missed the ireland camps, and were forced to stay in london to recover. "i know, but i'm here now, that's what matters," you reassured her, rubbing her back up and down.

then suddenly, her watery eyes shifted to the left of you, arms immediately letting go. curious, you turned to see what had captured her attention. as if a moment in time paused, you saw your mom extending her arms out to alessia, enveloping her in a warm hug. you watched as your mom and girlfriend chatted, your mom making cheesy jokes that she can call her 'mom', and alessia doing her best to keep up with her rambling.

after exhaustingly greeting each of your family members you were finally able to speak to your girlfriend. although not without a few sly comments from your siblings, about the "fashionably late couple", courtesy of your well complimented outfits, - which the blonde would profusely deny she chose.

my father's entrance from the kitchen was perfectly timed, strutting around in his 'dad apron', he announced that dinner was ready. the heavy scent of food was now flowing freely through the house, everybody sitting down, excited to finally eat.

throughout dinner, alessia charmed everyone with her wit and kindness. your family was captivated by her presence, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride seeing how well she connected with them, effortlessly joining conversations. the blonde once shy, began opening up more, cracking jokes and adding the playful banter between your siblings.

"can't forget the time when y/n tried to bake a cake and it ended up looking like a deflated football?" your sister, katie pipes up. laughter erupting amongst your family. "never letting that one go. it's in the mccabe hall of fame now," your older brother added. laughter breaking out through the dining room.

"was it at least edible?" alessia asked, with a playful glint in her eye. "hey! it was, it tasted… well, it tasted interesting, i'll have you know." you responded before any of your siblings could, feigning offense to the comments about your cooking skills.

"interesting is one way to put it. i think even dad had second thoughts." your youngest sister said teasingly. the table bursts into laughter, even louder this time. "i think we've found a new judge for our family cooking contests!" your mother exclaims. alessia laughs, looking more relaxed than she had felt in a long time. "just wait until you hear about the time y/n tried to fix the sink on her own, and flooded the kitchen!"

alessia's eyes widen in amusement, turning to you with her eyebrows raised. "i'm being ganged up on! that didn't happen!" you threw your arms up, trying to think of any excuse to save yourself. "oh that reminds me!" your mother changed the topic, everyone confused as she swiftly left the dining room looking for something.

a moment later your mother returned, but this time with 12 wrapped gifts in her hands. "presents!" she exclaimed, your siblings faces lighting up and their mother's clear excitement. handing each gift, you waited patiently for your turn.

your mother handed you a wrapped gift box, a deep blue wrapping with a golden coloured bow lay in front of you, attached the gold ribbon read a small handwritten tag with your name on it. next to you alessia's eyes glistened, face lit up in anticipation. until, the blonde was given her own gift. "and one for our newest family member," you mother said, her voice laced with warmth. the comment making the blonde's eyes twinkle, a large grin plastered on her face.

"well don’t just stare at em, open them!" wrapping paper flew, a series of cheers chorused as each sibling opened their gift. each gift contained a christmas styled sweater, customised for the sibling.

for alessia, her sweater was a classic, elegant design, in a soft heather maroon colour. it featured a ribbed pattern, and a vibrant red turtleneck, perfect for chilly nights in london.

opening your own gift, you were given a similar sweater to the blonde. a chic, oversized sweater, with a trendy off the shoulder cut, although yours was a slightly richer red, more of a deep burgundy, both sweaters again complimenting each other.

a wave of cozy, oversized sweaters were lifted up in hands across the table, a mix of black, blue, greens, reds and pink sweaters clouded your view, each sibling as happy with their gift as the last. your mom stood at the end of the table, and you could only describe her facial expressions as truly at peace, her children finally together in time for christmas.

giggling with the blonde, you felt so at ease. she really was the one for you. ahead of you, both your parents stood, looking so proud and content. your father's arm was wrapped around your mother, holding her close, eyes glistening. they shared a knowing glance, their gazes both loving and approving. an unspoken message laying in their eyes, a silent affirmation that seemed to say, "she's perfect for you."

as the night went on, you found yourself falling even more in love with alessia, appreciating the way she effortlessly fit into your family and made everyone feel at ease. it was a night you would always cherish, the beginning of many more gatherings to come. you had never felt your family bond feel so strong.

after all, this was what christmas was about.

Liked by leahwilliamsonn, @y/m/n_ and 93,048 others

Alessiarusso99 Beautiful way to end a really positive 2023, with my girls and thank you mom for the sweater, the girls loved <3

View all 728 comments

Y/n_Y/l/n Understatement of the season. That sweater is incredible. 💗

victoriapelova ❤️❤️

Leahwilliamsonn I want my own one @Y/n_Y/l/n

Y/n_Y/l/n @y/m/n_ leah wants one as well

bethmead_ i think we all deserve a sweater for christmas? 🧐

katie_mccabe11 😍

lottewubbenmoy love you, sis ❤️

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15 hours ago

#arsenal wfc #woso #alessia russo #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #katie mccabe #leah williamson #lotte wubben moy #victoria pelova

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cataboliac · 5 months

Text

Enkindle

A sequel to Ignite Son Seungwan 11k words

*Hey Wendy, are you at practice today?*

Trembling fingers typed out the message, a hesitation lingering in each keystroke. Releasing a deep breath, you then hit the send button. The cold air seemed to thicken—your body grappling with the nerves that had been building up all day. The whirring noise did little to calm the unease as you anxiously waited for her response.

*Hon! Yes. We are about to finish up. Isn’t it early morning where you are now?*

You smile—Wendy has no suspicions whatsoever. The plan is going smoothly.

*I just wanted to start the day right by messaging you first, that’s all.*

*You really know how to make me smile.*

You longed to hear those words from that soothing voice, not distorted behind a microphone or a speaker.

*I miss you so much. Will I see you again for Christmas?*

Her question replaces the nervousness with guilt. You have a definite answer, but she can't know just yet.

The standard excuse would have to do for now.

*Sorry Wannie. I am not sure about the holidays. I’ll keep you updated though, okay?*

*I understand, don't worry. I’m just a bit nervous about our comeback show tomorrow. Wish you were here to see it.*

Seungwan has no idea she's in for such a big surprise.

*You're the best group out there. You're gonna crush it. I will stay up to watch it!*

*I love you. Thank you for always knowing how to cheer me up. Good morning! And good night! :) <3 *

*Goodnight Wannie, I love you too.*

“And see you tomorrow,” you murmur as you look out the porthole. The hum of the engine finally became a comforting backdrop as you neared the end of this carefully orchestrated surprise. The bright Korean skyline slowly comes into view—the warm glow of lights welcoming you home—as the plane makes its final landing approach to Incheon Airport.

______________________________________________________________

Two years have flown by since you left Korea. The rhythm of your days found a new beat on the chilly streets of your hometown of San Francisco, where you busied yourself teaching choreography classes. You were no longer bound by the constraints of a strict schedule or dietary regimen, relishing in the anonymity that accompanied the bustling life. Rarely did anyone recognize you, and in this newfound simplicity, you were living.

Yet, the plainness of your new life couldn't fill the void that persisted in your heart. No matter how hard you tried to occupy your time, a significant part of you remained in Seoul. You left many friends and family, leaving an unmistakable ache.

Especially the absence of the love of your life.

Despite agreeing to a long-distance relationship, you and Seungwan were entering unknown territory. It terrified you both to the core. But you found a way to make it work, communicating daily through messages and video calls. Whether it was before dawn or late at night, your day wouldn't feel complete without sharing moments with each other. The longing for physical closeness only intensified as time passed—the desire to return to Korea echoed persistently in your mind.

Thankfully, you saw each other a few times last year. The previous visit was for Christmas—nearly 11 months ago. You both knew that these sporadic reunions were not sustainable in the long run. The absence of physical intimacy, the constant effort to maintain emotional connections, and the doubts lingering in your minds all pointed towards an inevitable ending.

But you weren't willing to let it end like that.

That's why, since your last trip, you've been quietly discussing plans with friends and family. This next trip will hopefully be more permanent—a chance for a more lasting connection.

You hated keeping Seungwan in the dark, but on the other hand, you didn't want to give her false hope if the plan fell through. It was more important to ensure this worked for a long-term stay before telling her.

Your musings are interrupted by the last of your luggage passing by you on the conveyor belt. Thankfully, you grab it effortlessly and lump it onto the trolley. With all of your belongings in check, you head outside.

As you exit the revolving doors of Incheon Airport, the icy fresh air of Korea greets you once more in its cold, loving embrace as you step out the doors of Incheon Airport. You have almost forgotten how unforgiving the nippy chill of your hometown can be, forcing you to zip up the rest of your jacket. It is so cold you could see the vapor escaping your mouth as you exhale.

Your phone suddenly rings, making you jump in surprise. You’ve been on guard tonight because you didn’t want news of you arriving in Korea. You quickly check your phone, only to release an exasperated sigh.

*Hey, have you landed yet? :P *

*Sooyoung… I told you not to message me when you’re with Seungwan…*

*So you did land! Welcome back! :P *

*And stop worrying so much! The other three are keeping Seungwan busy. And how will you know where to enter tomorrow? :P *

Inhaling deeply, you release a breath, expelling all the pent-up nerves. Your shoulders gradually relax, a noticeable lightness replacing the tension. Admittedly, there's a twinge of anxiety about tomorrow, but Sooyoung's wisdom prevails—let the plan unfold naturally.

*Fine, fine. What is the plan for tomorrow?*

While waiting for Sooyoung's text, you navigate your trolley through the parking lot in search of your ride to the Airbnb. A distant flash of car headlights grabs your attention. As you draw near, the familiar silver van evokes a wave of fond memories, a visual echo of countless rides to various schedules.

You stand in front of the van—and without warning—the passenger door opens, and someone engulfs into you with a hug.

"You bastard! It is so good to see you again!" Jaesung crushes you with a bear hug, almost taking the air out of your lungs. You manage to reciprocate, laughing as he whips you around like a ragdoll. He was always the most affectionate and most sociable among your group mates.

"Never change, man. Never change. Now let me in the car!"

With the help of Jaesung you get your things in the van and leave the parking lot without anyone recognizing you. With some breathing time, Jaesung catches you up on the latest news around the company.

"And all the new trainees are super talented! We try to be more lenient with them, especially the younger ones in school,” Jaesung says excitedly. He decided to stay with the company and help train the new talent.

“This new role really fits you Jae. I'm glad you stayed.” It helps that Jaesung was the leader of your group before getting disbanded.

“And soon we will be complete again! Once everyone is free,” Jaesung says, a hopeful—and now—realistic wish now that you are here.

"Just focus on your surprise with your 'Wannie' baby," Jaesung adds, his cutesy teasing tone making you cover your face in embarrassment.

The van stops at your destination just in time to save you from more teasing. However, this is not the Airbnb you booked. This actually looks like the subdivision you used to live in.

“Jae, what are we doing here?” you ask him as he helps bring your luggage down from the van.

“This is my surprise to you. Open up your hand.” Fearing another of his famous pranks, you reluctantly open your hand to Jaesung, and he drops you the key to your old apartment—the familiar orange keychain still attached.

“No way…”

“Yeah, way! Don’t worry about it, okay? We talked to the place you booked, and we will figure it out. I kept the place tidy for you. And you got it all to yourself for a week cause I will be out for team building with the trainees. I am sure you will have only one guest over."

You jingle the keys in your hand, a cascade of memories flooding your mind. From returning home after misadventures to triumphant schedules and that unforgettable night when you confessed to Seungwan—that apartment was a safe space for you.

“I don’t know what to say… just thank you so much Jae.”

“Don't get too sentimental on me yet! Now give me another hug.” The two of you embrace. Jaesung is the heart and soul of your group. The brotherly bonds never faded over time—they only grew stronger.

"Rest up. You have a surprise tomorrow. See you next week, lover boy!”

Jaesung enters the elevator, and you wave goodbye to each other. Feeling inspired by his thoughtful gesture, you turn towards the door of your old apartment with newfound confidence in your plan. Just then, your phone rings, bringing a detailed message from Sooyoung about the surprise strategy. A smile slowly spreads across your face until it reaches its edges. The realization hits you like a speeding train—you are finally on the verge of reuniting with Seungwan.

______________________________________________________________

Red Velvet bows and thanks their audience again for coming to support them. They did not want to leave the stage, but they still had lots to do for the next day. The standing ovation reverberates through the concert hall, the thunderous cheers accompanying their descent down a corridor toward the private room. In the wake of their performance, the members of their dedicated staff resoundingly offer their congratulations for yet another triumphant fan-sign event.

The excitement from the event engulfs Seungwan in a surge of dopamine, saturating her heart with indescribable joy—the feeling is still the same no matter how far someone is in their career. Being back on stage and able to perform is a feeling she could never trade away. It distracted her from thinking about other things.

Specifically, it distracted her from her thoughts of him. She really wished he could be there, but she knew affording a flight to Korea was no small feat. Seungwan missed it all—the simple touch of his hands, his cheering that pumped her up, the fiery devotion that set her soul on fire. Missing the love of her life came in waves, and sometimes Seungwan felt she was drowning.

At least for now, Seungwan can surface and put all those negative feelings at the back of her mind and focus all her energy on the comeback.

While they walked, the members stuck close to Seungwan, feeling more affectionate than usual. Sooyoung wrapped around Seungwan’s shoulder, holding her close to her side.

"Such a fun fan sign! I even got this cute toy from this sweet fan," Sooyoung says as she holds out a miniature plushie of herself.

"Hey, why didn't I get one? Obvious favoritism!" Yeri shouts, playfully narrowing her eyes and making the others chuckle.

"It doesn't feel so long since our last comeback, but the feeling never gets old," Seulgi says as she throws an arm around Seungwan’'s waist.

Joohyun, who was ahead of everyone, opens the door to their room and peaks inside. She smiles knowingly—satisfied with what she sees—then closes the door and waits for everyone to come closer.

Everyone stops in front of Joohyun, much to Seungwan's bewilderment. "Is there something wrong?" Seungwan asks.

“I took a quick peek inside and saw something interesting. I think it is for all of us,” Joohyun says as she opens the door and steps inside.

“Oh, a surprise?! Let’s see!” Yeri exclaims excitedly.

Everyone enters the room, but the rest hang by the door to let Seungwan explore first.

The room started off simple with basic furniture. Now, it's transformed, decked out in oriental banners, colorful streamers, and red and black wallpaper that matches the classy Chill Kill theme. Giant balloons proudly declare "Congratulations" on one wall. But the most fascinating part is the center table, adorned with a red gift-wrapped box and a bunch of violets—Seungwan's favorite flowers.

Seungwan is left utterly speechless, her mind swarming with a million questions. Slowly, she approaches the bouquet and spots an envelope with her name on it, casually leaning against the box. As she picks it up, her heart skips a beat or two. The distinct cursive handwriting is unmistakably his.

A rush of emotions hits Seungwan like a tidal wave. As she reached for the thick, cream-colored envelope, Seungwan's hands trembled. The weight of emotions threatened to overwhelm her, and she struggled to steady her breathing as tears blurred her vision. Her heart pounded in her chest, aching with anticipation. Trying to control her shaky fingers, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside.

Congratulations on the comeback Wannie! Words cannot put how lucky I am to have met you, that my love is yours, and our two lives are woven and welded together. I will always be beside you. I promise.

As Seungwan read the words on the page, her heart began to flutter, and her cheeks flushed rosy red. She couldn't help but embrace the letter tightly against her chest, imagining the feeling of his arms around her. The bouquet of freshly picked flowers, a mystery gift tucked within, and now this heartfelt letter; he always had a way of surprising her. Yet, as grateful as she was for these tokens of love, they reminded her of his absence. The room felt emptier than ever as if it longed for him to fill it with his presence. These conflicting emotions stirred in Seungwan's heart, intensifying her longing for him even more.

“This…this is so beautiful. I really wished you were here,” she says, hoping the winds carry her words to the other side of the world.

“I always got your back.”

Seungwan freezes, her body reacting to that familiar voice—the hairs on her skin rising, hands shaking, and knees threatening to give out. Memories of doubts and fears resurface, remnants of a time when she believed she might never be together with the love of her life again. Those thoughts lingered in the shadows of her mind, haunting her, especially when she was all alone.

Will I ever see him again?

Will he be the same?

Does he truly love me?

Then, that deep, unmistakable baritone voice filled the room, and Seungwan couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over her. She had always held a special place for him in her heart, like a "Reserved" sign on a quiet table in a restaurant—a place she kept safe, hoping she wouldn't be left waiting.

And today, her date had finally arrived.

It was a moment she had been eagerly waiting for, yet also dreading—for Seungwan's biggest fear was losing him and being left alone once again. But she was determined to let go of her fears and embrace him with open arms.

She had worked tirelessly to elevate her love above the paralyzing clutches of fear, constantly striving to better herself so he would see her proud of the growth she had nurtured.

Seungwan believed in miracles and held onto the belief that everyone is meant to live a life full of passion, purpose, and magic. As an idol, it was her duty to share this belief with others and spread positivity wherever she went.

As she turned around, Seungwan finally laid eyes on the one person she had been yearning for so long; her faith was finally rewarded. A warm smile spread on her face as she took in his features. In this beautiful moment, all her worries melted away, and she knew that everything would be okay with him by her side.

______________________________________________________________

It had been approximately 11 months, 12 days, and 23 hours since you last saw Son Seungwan in person. The sight of her now feels like a lightning strike, transporting you back to the moment she first captured your heart. Those full honey lips that speak words of kindness, full moon eyes that seek out the good in people, gentle hair that tumbled in such rich autumnal hues—love grew, yet she still is the same woman you fell so hard in love with.

“Wendy—”

Before you can say another word, Seungwan closes the distance between you and throws herself into your arms with a hug so tight it seems she will never let you go again. You embrace her firmly, taking a step back from the force of her impact. Your collar becomes wet with her tears as she cries out in disbelief while clinging to you. You rub her back soothingly, hoping to alleviate the flood of emotions within her.

"I am here," you repeat to her—and to reassure yourself.

A couple sniffles are heard behind you. "Girls, let's give the two some alone time," Joohyun says as she leads the girls out of the room.

It takes a moment for Seungwan's breathing to slow. She pulls away from the side of your neck, those hypnotic brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Ow!" you suddenly cry out as a sharp pain between your shoulder blades shoots up; Seungwan's hand connects with your back.

“How could you do that to me? Making me cry in my makeup and in front of the girls. They are going to tease me to death…” Seungwan says with a pout, but her eyes beam with radiant joy.

Using your free hand, you retrieve a handkerchief from your pocket to gently dab away the excess tears and makeup that had smudged her face—though she was beautiful regardless. When finished, you return the cloth to its place and hold her face in your hands.

Unfortunately, you could not contain the guilt that was eating you up. “I am so sorry. I didn't want you to hold on to any false hope. I needed to be sure I could stay here longer. I am so sorry–"

Seungwan's velvety lips claim yours with such passion that the weight of any apologies you carry melts away. Your body responds instinctively to her warmth, your lips dancing in perfect unison with hers. As you close your eyes, you are enveloped in a sensory symphony—the plush sensation of each kiss, her favorite fruity perfume invading your senses, and the hint of her sweet strawberry lip tint adding to the intoxicating experience. Your hands move from her face to her shoulders, pulling her closer in a warm embrace as you reacquaint yourself with the feeling of her touch. She sighs contentedly, drawing you nearer as if coaxing out more breath from your lungs.

She breaks the kiss, leaning on your forehead, catching her breath. "Don't you dare say sorry, please. You are here, and that means everything to me."

You exhale, the tension finally dissipating from your body. “Okay. Okay, I won’t.”

“How did you manage to plan all of this?” she asks as she thumbs your cheek and caresses your chin.

“A couple months worth of planning. I had to coordinate a lot with your members and manager.”

“How long are you staying?”

"Actually… that’s the best part. I am planning to stay in Korea. Possibly for good." The words roll off your tongue effortlessly.

Seungwan's jaw drops, the words short-circuiting her mind in disbelief. "Wait… you’re not leaving?"

You smile, realizing the weight of your words. “I am here to stay.”

Seungwan snuggles into the warmth of your embrace, her laughter ringing in the room in pure disbelief and happiness. After moments of tears, this was a welcomed change, a beautiful call of joy filling the room as she hugged you tighter. Lifting her off the ground, you spin around in an impromptu dance, caught up in the euphoric moment. The realization that you can now share your life together after being apart for so long hits you both with a rush of emotion.

"Wait, did you just propose?!"

"And did you say yes?!"

"Girls! Let them have their moment!"

The rest of Red Velvet stands by the open door, Sooyoung and Yeri playfully held back by Seulgi and Joohyun. You stop and gently set Seungwan on her feet as the others eagerly await your answer. With the moment gone, you intertwine your fingers with hers, content to bask in the romantic moment amidst your friends' presence.

"Don't worry about it. We'll have plenty more opportunities," you say as you lay a gentle kiss on Seungwan's hand. She leans on your shoulder, attempting to conceal her face, not as confident yet in displays of affection in front of her group.

“Ew, too cheesy. I will let it go for now since we get to see Wendy squirm like this,” Seulgi says, holding up her phone to take some pictures. “Did you open your gift yet?” Joohyun asks Seungwan.

You see the gift box left unopened. Letting Seungwan go, you grab the gift and hand it to her. “Go ahead! I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Seungwan unties the ribbon, allowing it to gracefully fall to the ground. She carefully removes the wrapping paper, revealing a simple black box with no distinguishing features. As she gently shakes it, a faint rattling sound can be heard from within. Intrigued, she lifts the lid, revealing a stunning silver heart necklace. You watch as she becomes enamored with the necklace, running her fingers over its texture and holding it up for a closer look. The other girls gather around her, gushing over the romantic gift.

"I know you already have almost everything, but I wanted to get you something special. Something I haven't given you before... so here it is." Your words come out slightly nervous, unintentionally giving away your feelings, but Seungwan wraps you in another warm hug.

"It's perfect. Will you put it on me?"

She turns around, lifting her hair to expose her slender neck. You take the necklace and delicately place it around her neck, securing the clasp. Turning back around, Seungwan beams at you and plays with the heart pendant hanging from the chain. It does look perfect on her.

"You look beautiful."

As Seulgi snaps a photo and the rest of the girls coo in admiration, this romantic moment is now captured in both of your memories. Your hand seeks hers again, intertwining your fingers and savoring her tender touch.

"Will you join us for dinner?" she asks.

"I wish I could, but I've got to see my grandparents tonight." You catch Seungwan's slight pout, but you squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"I know the group is busy tomorrow, so I made sure to reserve you all to myself the day after, okay?"

Seungwan glances at her group, and they nod back reassuringly. You've ensured a whole day-date, a semblance of a regular routine day with her.

"You really planned for everything. I'm so excited for our day together," she says, kissing you on the cheek.

"And thank you, girls, you've all been amazing with the planning," you acknowledge the girls.

"You better make sure not to hurt her, okay?" Joohyun threatens though the laughter that ensues indicates she's only joking.

As everyone pitches in to help the staff dismantle the decorations, you catch up with the rest of the group. Tomorrow is slated with radio promotions and another music show. Yeri teases about her solo album for next year, adding extra motivation for this comeback. Sooyoung shares updates on her dating life with Crush. Joohyun plans to focus more on acting, while Seulgi is gearing up to delve deeper into studying music production. With the tidying up almost complete, you accompany the girls to the exit.

"I'll see you in two days, okay?" You embrace Seungwan, inhaling her sweet, flowery perfume, still in disbelief that she's in your arms.

"I will. I'm so happy you're back." Seungwan places a tender kiss on your lips before joining the rest of the girls outside.

Finally, alone in the hallway, you slowly lower yourself into an empty chair, a wave of mental and emotional exhaustion washing over you from the whirlwind of the past couple of hours. As you sit there, you can't help but imagine the countless plans for your upcoming date with Seungwan—the words you want to say, the moments you want to share.

“It’s a date.”

______________________________________________________________

“Stupid jetlag!”

You quickly try to freshen up, one hand clutching onto your towel while the other manages a toothbrush in your mouth. The relentless jet lag caused you to sleep through the alarm. Seungwan is about to arrive, and you're not even close to being ready.

After a quick mouth rinse, you rush to your closet to look for the outfit you meticulously planned for the day. Just as you pull your shirt over your head, the doorbell chimes.

"Hold on a sec!" you shout as loud as you can.

As you finish adjusting your shirt and straightening your collar in the mirror, you notice a few stray hairs and quickly tame them with a comb. You double-check your pockets to make sure you have everything you need before confidently heading towards the door. But before turning the knob, you pause and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for what lies beyond. With a calm exhale, you twist the doorknob and are greeted by a breathtaking sight.

Seungwan radiates confidence in her stylish winter ensemble, a crisp white coat effortlessly draped over her figure. Underneath, an oversized black sweater and a pair of form-fitting jeans show off her curves. Her smile is infectious, lighting up her cheeks that you love to pinch. Her luscious chocolate-hued locks fall freely around her shoulders, the delicate snowflakes adorning them like jewels in a crown. Seungwan's impeccable sense of fashion only adds to her breathtaking beauty—she could make heads turn at every corner.

“It's rude to stare, love,” she playfully chides, the familiar line eliciting a smile from you.

"Sorry, I'm not used to seeing snow angels walk."

"Ugh, too cheesy and still a terrible flirt. You need to relearn my tricks," Seungwan teases, and the two of you share a warm hug, sealed with a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I could use a refresher course. Maybe with a private demonstration?"

"Now, that's a bit better," Seungwan giggles, seemingly satisfied with your response. Banter with her feels as natural as breathing.

"What was with all the noise a while ago?" she asks.

You blush, scratching your head in embarrassment. "You heard all of that? I… kinda woke up late. I was pretty excited for today."

"You are so adorable. What are we doing today anyway?" she asks, sliding her gloved hand into yours.

"Lunch out, grocery shopping after, then I cook you a nice dinner back here. We end the night with a nice movie. How does that sound?" After closing the door, you lead Seungwan by the hand, embarking on a journey towards your date.

“That sounds like a lovely day.”

Today is the dreaded Monday, marking the start of a new work week. As you board the train, you find it teeming with all sorts of individuals—from diligent students to dedicated salarymen, engrossed in the routine of their daily commutes. The air carries a palpable sense of anticipation, passengers absorbed in their smartphones, occasionally stealing glances in expectation of their respective stops.

However, for you, Monday unfolds as a comforting embrace of normalcy. This is an opportunity for you and Seungwan to revel in the simple authenticity of being yourselves—even if it is just for today. The disguises you two have ensured you won't be recognized, allowing yourselves to go with the flow of people. To the casual observer, you and Seungwan appear as just another couple navigating their way through the ordinary rhythm of a morning commute.

“Arriving at Myeong-dong Station. Please exit on this side"

"This is our stop; let's go! Ready for some lunch?" you ask, leading Seungwan through the sea of people in search of the exit.

Emerging onto the bustling Myeong-dong Shopping Street, the air becomes an enticing medley of delectable aromas from the food vendors. Amid the crowd, you instinctively draw Seungwan closer, ensuring she doesn't get lost in the lively atmosphere. The vendors enthusiastically beckon passersbys to sample their diverse specialties. The sizzling sounds emanating from the pans awaken your appetite, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Although it's been a while since your last visit, the enchantment of this place floods you with cherished memories—and sparks the potential for new ones in the future.

"Anything in mind? You've got an endless supply of food choices." It's been more than a year since you last visited, and the place is surprisingly bustling for this time of day.

Seungwan squeals in joy, already tugging you around to explore the food stalls. "Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go!!"

You observe as Seungwan scans the vibrant street, her eyes searching for anything interesting among the colorful food stalls. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto a stall with skewers. As you both draw closer, the irresistible scent of grilled meat wafts through the air, captivating your senses. The cook applies a generous layer of butter on the hot grill before slowly placing a square Wagyu cube onto the surface. You both watch in anticipation as the meat begins to sizzle and cook to perfection, the savory aroma intensifying with each passing moment.

"How about these? They look amazing!"

Agreeing with her choice, you both approach the vendor. They greet you with a friendly smile as you pick a variety of skewers—odeng, succulent meats, and even some grilled vegetables. You grab the first of the sticks, giving one to Seungwan. Her eyes light up with delight as she chews into the beef.

"This is so yummy! What's next?"

As you and Seungwan wander through the bustling street market, your eyes dart from one colorful food stall to the next. The sweet aroma of freshly made pancakes entices you, while spicy tteokbokki calls Seungwan from a nearby grill. You both eagerly try different dishes, laughing as you compare flavors and textures. Your stomachs eventually reach their limit, and Seungwan spots a cozy café tucked away in a quiet corner. With relief, you sink into plush chairs, relishing the memories made and the delicious treats still lingering on your tongues.

“I’m stuffed, the tteokbokki finished me,” Seungwan says as she rubs her stomach, sitting down next to you.

“That’s because you had two servings,” you tease, earning you a slap on the shoulder.

“I can’t help it if it's my favorite snack.”

Relaxing in the warm and inviting atmosphere of this café, you chat casually while enjoying your hot chocolate and Americano. Seungwan leans against you comfortably, and together you watch people walking by outside. The usual stress of strict managers, rabid fans, and a rigid schedule fades away as you both savor the simple joy of being in the present moment.

"Ready to move?" you ask, and Seungwan nods after sipping the last of her drink. Slipping back into the lively crowd, you guide her to the next destination—an inviting supermarket.

"Next on our agenda: grocery shopping! Any special requests for tonight's menu?"

Seungwan ponders for a moment, her expression playfully pouting in thought. "I've been craving some spicy beef soup lately... that's not too difficult, right?"

"Not at all! We can definitely do that. The ingredients should be easy to find," you assure her with a grin.

You push a grocery cart confidently through the supermarket, starting with spices and making your way to vegetables before finishing with the crucial component: meat. Seungwan's sharp eye spots the perfect beef brisket, and you add a bottle of soju for a tasty pairing.

At the cashier, you hand over your card and notice the lingering gaze of the cashier as he inspects your name with a subtle smile on his lips. He nods at you, hinting at recognition. Seungwan looks over, also confused by the cashier's behavior.

After paying and packing up your groceries, the cashier bids farewell with a friendly wink.

"Thanks for choosing our store.”

"I always have your back!" he adds.

You're taken aback by his words—your catchphrase.

As you leave the store, a sense of comfort washes over you thanks to the subtle acknowledgment from the cashier. It's a reminder that you can make an impact, and this thought stays with you as you step back into the busy streets.

“We should take a taxi; we got a lot of stuff to carry,” you suggest.

The clock strikes 4:00 pm. The blazing tangerine sun begins its descent, painting the cerulean sky with a stunning vermillion glow. The streets are bustling with even more people, their voices blending in a symphony of noise. After searching for a while, you finally hail a taxi to take you home. As the car navigates through the bright city lights, Seungwan rests peacefully on your shoulder. You can't help but reflect on the day that has passed—a whirlwind of emotions, shared laughter, and moments with someone who truly understands you. Though this adventure has ended, the warmth it sparked lingers, promising an intimate evening ahead.

______________________________________________________________

The keys jingle in your hand as you insert them into your front door, the metallic locks engaging as the knob turns. "Finally, home sweet home."

You place the groceries in the fridge, waiting to be used for tonight's cooking session. Beyond the kitchen lay the soft glow of the living room, ready to cradle you both in the embrace of a movie night. As the sky turned into a black carpet peppered with shining stars, the possibility of a connection transcended the ordinary, etching the day into the tapestry of unforgettable memories.

"Hey, want to take a break before we cook?" Seungwan suggests, patting the empty space beside her on the couch.

"We?" you inquire as you settle next to her. Seungwan pulls you in, her arms encircling your waist, snuggling closer. "I don't mind the help, but today is all about you."

Seungwan giggles, rewarding you with a quick peck on the lips. "You're always so thoughtful, but it’s our day. Plus, how will I know you won't accidentally set the place on fire?"

"Oh, you might be surprised by how much I've improved," you counter, playfully jabbing a finger into her side and attacking her ticklish spot. Seungwan bursts into laughter, thrashing your arms.

"Wait! Enough! Okay, I trust you for later! Now hush, and let me cuddle with you a bit longer."

You both sink into the plush fabric of the couch, her body pressed against yours. The room is quiet except for the sounds of her steady breaths, which match the gentle movements of her chest. Your fingers slowly explore her smooth skin, rediscovering every inch of her porcelain complexion. In this peaceful moment, you exchange soft kisses on each other's foreheads and cheeks, occasionally lingering on each other's lips in a tender embrace.

The peace is abruptly broken by the sound of your stomach growling like a machine, making the two of you howl in laughter.

“How are you always so hungry?”

“I mean, we did walk around a lot today. Come on, dinner won’t cook itself.”

After washing your hands, a delightful surprise awaits as two arms lovingly snake around your waist. Turning around, you find Seungwan with a mischievous grin, playfully tying an apron around you. "Ready to showcase your cooking prowess?"

"Absolutely prepared to dazzle you with my culinary magic!" you exclaim, punctuating your words with an exaggerated twirl of your hands. Gathering the groceries from the fridge, you arrange them across the kitchen counter in a colorful display.

"Magic, huh? Well, I'm ready to be enchanted. What's our first spell?" Seungwan quips.

You slide the vegetables and the wooden chopping board over to Seungwan. "How about you work your magic with these? Chop them up while I prepare the meat."

Seungwan nods eagerly and grabs a nearby knife. She grabs a radish and skillfully chops it into uniform squares. Meanwhile, you expertly portion the meat into chunks, placing them into a generously sized pot you had readied earlier.

Amid the rhythmic chopping, you lean close to Seungwan, your warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. "You know, you're the best chef any culinary wizard could ask for."

Her cheeks blush with a delightful warmth. Seungwan steals a quick kiss on your cheek before cheekily pushing you away. "Keep those compliments coming, and I might just grant you access to a... special tasting."

“Be careful, I would do more than just taste,” you quip back, making Seungwan blush even more than the spices she is expertly mixing.

It takes a while to carefully arrange all the meat and radish into the pot. After setting the heat to medium and closing the lid, you join Seungwan in cutting up the rest of the vegetables. In the midst of the chopping, you open the fridge, retrieving the bottle of soju. You uncork it, pouring a shot for each of you. Tapping Seungwan's shoulder to grab her attention, you propose a toast.

“Let’s take a quick break before I check on the meat. What should we toast to?” you ask, raising your glass to Seungwan.

She reciprocates the gesture, intertwining her hand with yours. “To us. I still can’t believe you are here; it means the world to me. Thank you for the best surprise ever”

“To us.”

The two of you clink your glasses and then down the shot, savoring the sweet strawberry flavor swirling around your tongues and down your throats. A swift kiss on Seungwan's forehead punctuates this intimate moment before focusing back on the simmering pot.

With practiced precision, you carefully remove any impurities from the stew and discard them in the waste can. A satisfied grin spreads across your face as you examine the perfectly cooked meat, even inserting a knife to confirm its tenderness. You add it to the bowl of spices Seungwan has meticulously prepared, and you mix everything together with care, taking turns when one of you gets tired. Once everything is well-mixed, you transfer the flavorful combination into a clean pot, turning up the heat and sealing it with a lid.

All that remains is to wait for the 15-minute timer to sound off. As you head back to the couch, you notice Seungwan making her way to your bedroom with her bag in tow.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. And no, you can't join. Not yet, anyway," Seungwan declares, followed by a playful giggle and a wink in your direction.

You stare, dumbfounded, as Seungwan gracefully removes her shirt in one fluid motion. A fleeting glimpse of her bare back adorned with a red lacy bra almost takes your breath away. But before you can fully process the sight, her discarded t-shirt is suddenly covering your face, obscuring your view. You hear the door to your room close and know she's left, but a soft laugh escapes your lips as you fold her shirt and place it on the couch. With some time alone, you browse through popular romance movies while eagerly anticipating the intimate magic that will unfold with Seungwan after her refreshing shower.

You stumble upon the perfect movie just as the alarm announces that dinner is finally ready. Swiftly turning off the TV, you make a beeline for the kitchen. Lifting the lid, you give the stew a stir before seizing a spoon to sample the creation. The spicy tang of the soup dances on your tongue, each spice contributing to a delightful symphony of flavors. The vegetables are cooked to perfection—soft and infused with the spices. You relish the rich essence of the meat, savoring its tenderness as you taste a piece.

“I heard the alarm! How does it taste?” Seungwan's voice echoes from the hallway, her footsteps drawing nearer.

“Try it yourself! You are in for a treat.”

Seungwan strolls into the kitchen, clad in an oversized black long-sleeved blouse, paired with her favorite gray sweatpants. The ensemble is simple yet exudes comfort and elegance. As she glides past you to fetch a spoon, the delightful scent of her favorite fruity shampoo lingers in your mind, causing your heart to flutter ever so slightly. Observing her tasting the soup, you witness her face light up like a Christmas tree, a radiant expression that adds warmth to the homey kitchen atmosphere.

"Wow, that Yukgaejang is delicious! Consider me charmed, my magical chef," Seungwan exclaims, accompanying her words with a high-five.

"Glad that it impressed you. Couldn't have done it without my wonderful sous chef," you respond with a grin.

"You've definitely stepped up your game! Come on, let’s set the table; I'm starving!"

Together, you and Seungwan set the table with plates and silverware for two. You carefully place the pot on a sturdy surface so that it will not damage the delicate cloth underneath. Seungwan brings over the already open bottle of soju and pours two shots. The fragrant stew is served, and you both sit at the table, ready to enjoy the fruits of your culinary collaboration.

Seungwan raises her shot glass, proposing a toast once again. “What should we give thanks for this time?”

You pause, deep in thought, while you rest your chin on your hand before coming up with an answer. “Let's toast to a successful comeback for you! I hope you get to showcase your beautiful voice even more.”

Seungwan's cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she laughs in delight at your praise. Together, you down the shot and quickly express gratitude for the food before eagerly digging in.

The meat was cooked to perfection, a tender and succulent masterpiece that effortlessly parted with every bite. The blend of spices was impeccable, offering a subtle sting that elevated the flavors and made your taste buds dance. As you sipped on the smooth soju, it complemented the meal in perfect harmony, adding a touch of warmth and depth to each dish. Your conversations with Seungwan were seamless, transitioning between updates from the fast-paced idol world to the simple nuances and joys of your everyday lives. The laughter and chatter rose and fell like a soothing melody, creating an atmosphere of comfort and closeness amidst the feast before you.

Seungwan savors the last spoonful of her soup, letting out a satisfied exhale and tenderly rubbing her stomach. "Okay, now I'm absolutely stuffed. It tasted just like Mom's cooking!"

"I've been practicing some of your favorite dishes, just in case," you confess, avoiding direct eye contact. Nervousness tingles through you as you admit this, the desire for the evening to be perfect for her evident.

"You're such a sweetheart. Thanks for remembering." Seungwan rises from her seat, dashing over to you and enveloping you in a tight, appreciative hug.

“Anything for you.”

The two of you tidy up the remnants of dinner, carefully storing the leftovers in a Tupperware container. After placing the food in the fridge, you excuse yourself for a quick shower while Seungwan prepares for movie night.

Under the soothing stream of hot water, you reflect on the special day spent with her. Usually, plans can fall apart, yet tonight has been nothing short of perfect. You hope there are little days like these to share with her in the busy years to come. After a brisk drying off and a quick change of clothes, you find Seungwan engrossed in her phone, a bowl of popcorn perched on the table, and the movie already queued up.

“What's the movie about?” Seungwan inquires as she cozies up to you, resting her head on your chest. Your arms envelop her waist, and your legs naturally intertwine with hers, creating an intimate embrace.

“It's called 'Nothing Serious.' So it's about two strangers who despise dating but meet through an app. Sounds cliché, but Sooyoung highly recommended it.”

"I'm a total sucker for these chick flicks! What are we waiting for?" she exclaims, eagerly reaching for the remote and clicking the play button.

The film seemingly starts with a standard storyline: two individuals, weary of the dating scene, decide to give a dating app one last shot. Yet, what captivates you about the movie are the authentic characters and a plot that unfolds with logical precision.

Personally, you find a connection with the male lead. The character arc, shifting from one job to another, mirrors the quest for a stable connection—echoing the cycle of moving from one relationship to the next, hoping for something enduring.

On the flip side, the female lead exudes stability but carries the baggage of a long-term relationship. Certain aspects of the character evoke thoughts of Seungwan, and you find yourself entirely absorbed in the narrative.

As the movie progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Seungwan. Her eyes are fixed on the screen, her expression a mixture of amusement and contemplation. These little moments make you realize how lucky you are to have her by your side. The warmth of her body against yours creates a sense of comfort, a feeling that makes you believe in the power of relationships.

Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself wondering about the future. Where do you see yourself and Seungwan in five years? Ten years? The possibilities seem endless, yet you can't help but feel a tinge of apprehension. Will your relationship withstand the test of time? Will you both be able to navigate the challenges that life throws your way?

But as you steal another glance at Seungwan, her eyes meet yours, and all the doubts wash away. In this moment, it's as if time stands still, and the worries about the future fade into insignificance. Today, with all its wondrous details, comes rushing back to you—the laughter shared over lunch, the gentle touch of her hand on yours during groceries, and her smile lights up the room during dinner.

Seungwan, sensing a shift in your mood, pulls away slightly and looks at you with concern etched across her face. "What's wrong?" she asks softly, her voice filled with genuine worry.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before responding to Seungwan's question. You reach out to her and gently cup her face, your thumb tracing circles on her cheek.

"Nothing is wrong, Seungwan," you assure her, mustering a small smile. "I was just lost in my thoughts, thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life." Her expression softens as she leans into your touch, her arms slowly intertwining around you.

"You're the one who makes me feel lucky every single day. You found a way to keep us together and found a way back to me," she whispers, her voice filled with tenderness.

"I know we've both had our fair share of ups and downs, and the future can be uncertain," you confess, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "But being here with you. Right now. In this moment, I believe we can face anything together."

Seungwan's eyes glisten with tears. "I believe it," she replies softly. "We've weathered storms, and nothing could make me happier. We can do this. Together. For the rest of our lives."

You sit silently for a moment, letting Seungwan's words sink in. She's right, you think to yourself. You've faced obstacles and challenges before, and you've come out stronger together. The doubts and uncertainties about the future fade as a renewed sense of hope and determination washes over you.

With every passing day, your love for each other grew powerful. You navigated through life's challenges hand in hand, supporting and encouraging one another every step of the way. Together, you inspired each other to reach for the stars and chase after your dreams.

As the movie climaxes, you and Seungwan inch closer to each other on the couch. Your eyes flicker from her luscious lips to her awaiting body, unable to decide where to focus first in this moment of intense desire. Your heartbeat thunders in you—overcharged like a thundering storm about to unleash its power. It's as if all the love and passion built up over the years together is now coursing through your veins, causing every nerve ending in your body to spark with electricity. Adrenaline surges through you, making it impossible to sit still as you feel yourself being pulled closer to Seungwan by an irresistible force. The warmth of her body seeps into your skin, making your heart race and your nerves tingle.

Seungwan's almond-shaped eyes flicker with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability, revealing the intense emotions below the surface. They dart between your eyes, lingering on your lips with an almost palpable hunger. A glossy sheen coats her full, pouty mouth as she licks it hungrily, biting down gently with trembling anticipation. Each rise and fall of her chest is like a heavy drumbeat, her breaths coming in labored gasps that fill the air with heated tension. The deafening silence between you is only broken by the sound of her clothes rustling as her thighs rub together uncontrollably in response to her overwhelming desire for you.

Your other hand trembles as it reaches out to cup Seungwan's face, the need to touch her overwhelming. Your fingers trace every curve and angle of her jawline with aching tenderness, reveling in the softness of her skin beneath your touch. Her breath hit ever so slightly as her eyes searched yours, their depths filled with longing and desire. In this shared gaze, you find solace and reassurance—a silent understanding of all that has led to this moment. The stolen glances whispered confessions, and unspoken declarations culminated in this intense and electric connection between you both.

The flickering images on the screen were a mere background to the intense emotions coursing through the two of you. Seungwan's arms now fully enveloped you, her hold so tight it felt like your ribs might crack under the pressure. Your gaze locked with hers, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing second.

Your voice shook as you bared your heart, desire burning within you.

"I can't hold it in anymore. I need you. Right here and now."

Seungwan's lips curve into a knowing smile, and you lean in to kiss her softly. The taste of her cherry lip balm lingers on your lips as she responds eagerly, her hands tangling in your hair. The heater crackling in the background pales to the heat radiating between your bodies. You can feel Seungwan's quickened breath against your neck as you press closer, your kisses growing more urgent with each passing moment.

Without breaking the embrace, you slowly guide her back onto the plush couch cushions, your body hovering over hers. The sounds of the movie playing on TV fade away as your senses are consumed by the intensity of desire and passion between you.

Your hands explore every inch of Seungwan's body, tracing the curves and contours that have become so familiar to you. You revel in the softness of her skin, the way her body arches beneath your touch, and the way she responds to your every caress.

As your lips continue their dance, your hands find their way to the hem of Seungwan's shirt, slipping underneath the fabric and grazing over her heated flesh. A gasp escapes her lips, mingling with the soft moans that escape your own mouth. The hunger between you intensifies a raw and primal need that cannot be denied. With trembling hands, you begin to undo the buttons of her blouse, revealing the swell of her breasts and the lacy fabric of her bra. Your mouth hungrily finds its way to her collarbone, peppering kisses along the delicate curve that hits her sensitive spot that you know drives her crazy, Seungwan moaning even louder into the room.

Her hands grip your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she pulls you closer. The taste of her desire fills your mouth as your lips move from her collarbone to the exposed skin on her chest. You can feel her heart pounding against your lips, matching the rhythm of your own racing heartbeat. The room is filled with an electric energy, each touch igniting a fire within you. You feel the weight of the moment, the merging of souls and bodies in perfect harmony. Seungwan's fingers then fumble with the buttons of your shirt, a sense of urgency driving her actions.

As Seungwan unbuttons the last of your shirt, a cool breeze hits your exposed chest. You and Seungwan pause from your passionate kiss, resting your foreheads against each other. With one final kiss, Seungwan whispers, "Let's go to your room. Right now."

______________________________________________________________

Seungwan's mind is a jumbled mess of hunger and desire, the sensation swirling through her veins like wildfire. Her voice shakes with urgency, igniting a flame that had long been dormant. Without hesitation, they hurry towards the bedroom, their steps quickened by anticipation and longing.

The dimly lit room transforms into a sanctuary, a haven where time seems to stand still, allowing only the essence of the two souls to matter. The gentle radiance from the bedroom lamp creates soft shadows on the walls, casting an intimate aura over the space. Positioned at the edge of the bed, he locks eyes with Seungwan, a gaze that sends shivers down her spine in response. In this moment, there's an unspoken understanding that transcends mere physical desire. It's a culmination of emotions, a profound connection that defies verbal expression.

Seungwan moves towards him with deliberate steps, her every movement is laden with purpose and anticipation. Her hand extends, fingers trembling ever so slightly, and he responds by intertwining their fingers.

His free hand glides along the contours of her body, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Seungwan's breath catches as he leans in, his lips gently brushing against her earlobe, eliciting shivers all over her body. "I've been waiting for this moment," he whispers, his voice octaves lower.

He is typically gentle and soft-spoken, but when his voice deepens, taking on a commanding tone, Seungwan finds it irresistibly sexy when he assumes control. With assertiveness, he leads Seungwan onto the bed, where their bodies sink into the plush mattress. Their lips meet once again, but this time with an intensity born from the depths of their souls. Their tongues flick against each other in perfect rhythm, igniting the passionate fire brighter between them.

Seungwan feels his hand cup one of her breasts, eagerly kneading out the softness of her mound. She gasps as his touch sends electric currents through her body, making her break away from their kiss with a loud moan. His lips move down to her neck, nipping and sucking at her sensitive spot, causing her mind to go wild with pleasure.

As they continue to engage in foreplay, his other hand deftly unclasps her bra, releasing it from her chest. Using this opportunity, Seungwan rolls over him, straddling his lap. She takes advantage of the position, teasing him by slowly removing her bra from one arm at a time, keeping it close to her breasts. He watches with hunger in his eyes as she removes her shirt and finally lets the bra fall, revealing her ample bosom jiggling freely in the air, her warm mink nipples taut from arousal.

"And I am all yours."

Son Seungwan is an unwavering force, her spirit forged in the fires of adversity and molded into a fierce independence that has weathered every challenge life has thrown her. She has endured and overcome every challenge that life has thrown at her—from leaving her home country to surviving a crippling injury and bearing this long-distance love—refusing to show weakness. But now, as she sits naked before him, her walls crumble like a dam, giving way to a raging river of emotion. Every fiber of her being surrenders to this moment, giving herself to him.

He captures her lips hungrily, his hands roaming over her body with a sense of urgency. His fingers brush against the swell of her breast, causing her to gasp and arch towards him. Seungwan's heart races as his mouth moves down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in its wake. She can feel herself growing wet with desire as he inches closer to her chest, his warm breath sending shivers down her body.

Suddenly, his mouth is on one of her breasts, sucking lightly on a sensitive nub. She moans loudly, the sound echoing throughout the room. Her back arches, giving him more access to her succulent bosom as she trembles under his touch. His tongue swirls around her nipple while his fingers gently twist and pull on the other, driving her wild with pleasure. She is putty in his hands, lost in the sensations coursing through her body as he continues to worship every inch of her curves.

With a swift motion, he lifts Seungwan onto the middle of the bed, her body sinking into the soft sheets. The faint scent of vanilla lingers in the air as they embrace. He traces kisses along her stomach, causing her abs to tense and quiver under his touch. His strong hands unbutton her jeans in a skilled manner, pulling them down with ease as she raises her legs to help him. Her red lace panties cling tightly to her skin, revealing a damp spot at their center.

He moves down to her feet, peppering them with gentle kisses before trailing his lips up her legs. A shiver runs through her body as he reaches her inner thighs, his warm breath sending tingles to every nerve ending. She can't help but let out a small whimper as he presses against the fabric covering her core, feeling how wet and ready she is for him.

"Please," she begs with desperate longing in her voice, unable to wait any longer.

He quickly strips away the last remaining barrier between them, revealing Seungwan fully naked and vulnerable before him. She bites her finger nervously as she awaits his next move, anticipation building inside her.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dives in and begins his oral ministrations on her sensitive folds. Seungwan gasps loudly at the initial contact of his tongue and raises her hips to meet his eager mouth. His strong arms hold her down as he enthusiastically licks and kisses her, eliciting squirms and moans from Seungwan. She grabs the bed sheets tightly, her body responding intensely to his touch. He surprises her by sliding two fingers inside her tight warmth, causing Seungwan to clench around him and cry out in pleasure.

Feeling overwhelmed, Seungwan reaches out for his hand to help ground herself. But even with this distraction, she can't stop the overwhelming sensations building within her. With each flick of her clit, she gets closer and closer to the edge until, finally, she explodes in waves of ecstasy. He catches every drop of her release, some of it spilling onto his jaw as he hungrily laps up her juices. Her thighs grip him tightly, leaving marks with her nails digging into his hand, a pleasurable pain that only adds to their intense connection.

As Seungwan's body calms down, he continues to kiss and lick her folds for good measure. As he releases his hold on her, he moves up to kiss her body. Still riding the wave of pleasure from her orgasm, she shivers at every touch of his lips. When he reaches her face, she pulls him in for a passionate kiss, tasting herself on him and reveling in the intensity of their intimate moment together.

______________________________________________________________

"Your. Turn."

Seungwan's eyes glimmered with determination as she expressed her desire to return the favor. You eagerly lie down beside her, anticipation building in your chest as she shifts downwards towards your groin. Her hand deftly finds its way to your bulge, causing a moan to escape from your lips. Looking up at you for confirmation, Seungwan tugs on the hem of your pants. You give her a quick nod, allowing her to remove them, freeing your member from its confines. With practiced skill, she wraps her fingers around your shaft and begins to slowly pump, perfectly gauging just how much pressure and speed you like. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you let out deep groans and grunts as she expertly pleasures you.

"Babe, it feels… larger than last time…"

As she slips her tongue between her parted lips, Seungwan's eyes lock onto yours with a hungry intensity. You feel yourself getting stiffer as she traces delicate circles around your swollen head, her eager mouth lapping up the salty pre-cum that beads along the tip. She teases you with a soft kiss before engulfing your length in one smooth motion, sucking hard and sending electric shocks of pleasure through your entire body. The intense sensations make it difficult to catch your breath, and you can't help but moan as she works her magic on you. Your stomach clenches with every movement of her mouth, and the visual alone is enough to drive you wild, causing you to throw your head back in ecstasy.

Your lover eagerly takes more of your length into her mouth, increasing the speed and intensity of her movements with each passing second. Her tongue swirls and dances around you, creating sparks of pleasure that shoot through your body. You grip her soft, silky hair tightly in your hands, using it as leverage to guide her movements and deepen the sensation. With each downward stroke, she takes you deeper and deeper, coaxing out moans of ecstasy from deep within you. The erotic display happening between your legs is a masterpiece of passion, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring you to the edge of bliss. Your hips involuntarily buck with each skilled motion, driving you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. And when she hums softly against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine, it's all you can do to hold on as the sounds emanating from her mouth push you over the edge into pure ecstasy.

You feel the familiar tight sensation radiating from your abdomen. Not wanting to finish too soon, you gently hold Seungwan's head in place as she takes a break. When she pulls away, a spittrail is left between your member and her mouth. She resumes stroking you with one hand at a relaxed pace.

“Are you okay?” she asks, moving her hand slowly.

“You're going to drive me insane. That was incredible,” you manage to say.

Seungwan chuckles and kisses her way back up to your lips.“You make me crazy, too. I think I'm ready.”

You and Seungwan have been intimate multiple times before, but tonight feels different. It feels like a promise come true, the culmination of years of friendship turning into love, a reward for having faith in each other. It's a reminder that there could be many more nights like this. As your bodies join together, you are bonded in every sense.

She positions herself above you, aligning her core with your length.

"I love you, Seungwan."

"And I love you too."

Seungwan lowers herself onto you, and as she takes you deep inside her, a new level of tightness envelopes your senses. Her eyes roll back in ecstasy as she reaches for your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin to hold on. You guide her down from her waist, feeling every inch of her sliding against every inch of you.

She can barely speak through the intense pleasure. "Babe...you're so...fuck...bigger..."

"Wannie… you feel even tighter..." You instinctively grip her hips, trying to hold on to some sense of control amidst the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by Seungwan's incredible tightness. She feels scorching hot, dripping wet, and tighter than ever before. It takes everything in you not to lose yourself completely. But as Seungwan sinks further onto you, pressing her body against yours with an unbreakable seal, you give in to the intense pleasure and pull her into a fierce kiss. Your shared breaths taste sweet as she hums against your lips, driving you both closer to ecstasy. With one final push, you are fully immersed inside Seungwan, lost in each other's embrace, until the world fades away into pure bliss.

After a brief moment of stillness, Seungwan leans back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She presses her hips against yours, moving in a slow and hypnotizing rhythm. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you moan and writhe in ecstasy. The bed squeaks and creaks beneath the intensity of your passion, the sounds blending with the loud slapping of skin against skin.

Your hands roam greedily over her body, exploring every curve and dip as she squirms under your touch. Seungwan's mouth falls open as she nears climax, her nails digging into your skin in pleasure. You pick up the pace, driving her closer to the edge with each thrust until she explodes in a frenzy of bliss. Her scream echoes through the room as her body trembles, and she collapses onto your chest. As she enters into her second orgasm of the night, she clings tightly to you while still trying to ride you to your own release.

You want to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, so you keep her in your arms. "Let me take charge," you whisper as you roll over and remain inside of her. Seungwan moans from the sudden change in position.

"Oh God, so deep."

You thrust into Seungwan, your pace quickening as you feel yourself surrendering to the intense desire to make love to her. She clings onto you with unbridled desperation, begging for more as she writhes beneath you in a frenzy of pleasure. You sink your teeth into her neck, leaving passionate red marks as she cries out in ecstasy. Her body shudders and quakes around you, signaling her impending release. Your movements become even more fervent, pushing deeper inside of her until your bodies are slick with sweat and burning with desire.

The pleasure intensifies, a warm sensation spreading throughout your entire being as you try to prolong this blissful moment. Seungwan's inner walls tighten around you, her legs wrapped tightly around your waist and pulling you closer.

In a final act of passion, she kisses you deeply as both of you reach the peak together. Your body tenses with ecstasy as you release everything inside her, marking her as yours forever. Waves of pleasure ripple through you as Seungwan's walls milk every last bit out of you, leaving her filled to the brim. You stay connected for a while, not wanting to collapse on top of her. When the throbbing finally subsides, you roll off to the side and feel the aftermath dripping onto your legs.

The weight of the experience leaves you drained and weary, but you still manage to pull the soft blanket over the two of you, pulling Seungwan into your embrace. Her body conforms perfectly against yours as she rolls to your side, her lips pressing gently against your cheek in a sweet gesture. You can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, soothing any lingering tension or discomfort. In return, you kiss her forehead before finally succumbing to exhaustion and closing your eyes. The peaceful moment envelops both of you like a warm cocoon, protecting you from the outside world and its worries.

______________________________________________________________

A trickle of light passes through the blinds. It’s been ages since an alarm clock wasn’t necessary to start the day.

You also can’t remember the last time you felt this body ache. Every external sensation feels like a sledgehammer, pulverizing your skull as your eyes barely open. Awareness slowly kicks in, and you start remembering the events of last night.

You attempt to sit up in bed, but a weight prevents you from doing so. In your arms is the person you love, fast asleep and looking peaceful. She stirs awake and gives you a small smile. It feels surreal, but her lips on yours confirm that it's all real—she is here with you in this moment.

"Good morning, Wannie."

"Good morning, last night was...indescribably perfect."

Perhaps this is just a part of life's journey. You meet someone and fall deeply in love, and suddenly, nothing seems too daunting or frightening anymore; every day is full of endless possibilities. Maybe we needed to go through rough patches to be stronger and more beautiful on the other side. Love can be found in the most unexpected places, shining bright even in the darkest moments. And Seungwan is proof that all of this exists, bringing light into even the bleakest situations.

"So, what's the next adventure planned for today?"

Well, it really has been a minute.

Hello everyone, and thank you so much for reaching the end of "Rekindle." If you haven't read "Ignite" yet, no worries! I designed this fic to stand on its own (though please give my debut fic a read! I love that baby so much).

It's not easy for me to say this, so I'll be straightforward: this marks the end of my writing journey.

Two years ago, I posted "Ignite" inspired by countless fan fics I had read. It was my way of expressing myself—a little bit of escapism. I needed to channel all the pent-up energy. I made wonderful friends, built confidence, got a plethora of new skills. But like any writer, I faced a lotttt of doubts and grappled with lotttsssss unfinished drafts. My writing consistency waned as mental health struggles took their toll.

I needed a break, especially because I needed to focus up on my actual life out there. I had been living too fast, too pressured. And the break did wonders to my life. As my mental health improved, so did various aspects of my life. I felt compelled to write one last fic, but only really felt ready to do one last fic. I think it was fitting I started and ended with the idol that drew me into k-pop! Sadly, my time to write is running out due to a new chapter in my life—I've landed my dream job!

I'm immensely grateful for this incredible journey as a writer. This journey made me discover a side I never thought I could do. I am confident in my writing and expressing myself in writing and in person. I owe my growth to the many friends I met here. This fic is dedicated to everyone I met, talked, and made wonderful memories with!

It's been an awfully beautiful adventure, and in the next life, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Thank you for two years of writing and unwavering support!

#kpop smut #smut #red velvet wendy #wendy red velvet #male reader #red velvet smut

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vax-merstappen · 1 month

Text

press delete pt.2 (cl16)

summary: even though he’s dating a new girl, charles still keeps the pictures of you on his phone.

warnings: breakup, general angst

hope you all enjoy this highly requested part 2! i actually liked writing this one more than the original lol

Charles had spent all day with the supermodel he had been seeing ever since your breakup. She was good company and had known Charles when he was a kid. He got along fine with her, but they were just friends. Someone he could talk to, even if they would never dance in the rain together or stay up late at night drunk on his balcony.

Just someone to fill the void.

After he had dropped her off back at her place, Charles had driven home himself. He had taken a shower before collapsing on his couch. As soon as he opened his phone, he saw that pictures of them together were already on social media. He wondered whether you had seen. Whether you had cared.

He opened his camera roll, looking back at all the pictures he couldn't bear to delete.

It was the first time he had invited you to come watch him race, his personal guest in the Ferrari hospitality. You had shown up wearing a T-shirt with his name and number on it, a red Ferrari cap on your head. He remembered how just seeing you in his team gear had made his heart flutter.

You had run over to him in the paddock, pulling him into an embrace. The cameras were flashing, but he knew you didn't care. Charles hugged you back, whispering in your ear how glad he had been to see you. He vowed then and there that he never wanted to let you go.

He gave you a tour of the paddock, showing you the places he knew the cameras wouldn't follow and the best places to grab food before the race. He had spent so much time in various tracks like this that he knew it like the back of his hand. He only hoped you would one day feel the same, having come to many more races of his.

When it was time to head on track, he had given you one last embrace. And before he went, he asked if he could take a picture with you. Him in his race suit, you in Ferrari gear. You happily obliged and he took his favorite picture of the day, just the two of you in his garage.

He would look back at that picture whenever you couldn't make it to a race, remembering that you were cheering him on from home. Even though he hadn't won that day, getting to spend it with you had been its own sort of victory.

As he looked at the photo now, all he felt was regret. Regret that maybe you didn't understand how much you had meant to him and how much better he felt with you around.

He couldn't make himself delete the picture and so he scrolled on.

A few minutes later, he found another picture that brought back memories. He chuckled to himself, remembering that day.

It had been Christmas time. You both had spent Christmas Eve with Charles family, as they celebrated the holiday. On the actual holiday, you had asked him to spend a cozy day in instead of celebrating in an extravagant way. He had agreed, wanting nothing more than to spend the day by your side.

But he had to still get you a present, no matter how many times you had insisted the only gift you wanted was to spend time with him, away from everything. He had searched endlessly for the perfect present for you, finally settling on something he knew you would appreciate. It was tickets to see a band you both listened to in concert. One of the first things you bonded over as a couple was your love for their music. It was perfect and he was so excited to see the look on your face when you opened the tickets.

Christmas had rolled around and as promised, he spent the morning cuddling with you in bed. Around lunch time, he had got up to make the two of you a brunch. His cooking skills were lackluster to say the least, so you had joined him the kitchen a few minutes later. He could still remember how you looked in the soft morning light and how you sounded when you laughed at how poorly he had chopped the ingredients of your favorite dish.

About halfway through the meal, he had handed you the envelope with the tickets. He had tried to hide how excited he was, but he knew you could read his emotions like a book. You opened the simple card he had bought and your eyes had widened when you saw the tickets.

But instead of getting all excited as he imagined, you burst into laughter. He felt his face getting red and he started to panic. Had he messed up? What was so funny?

"Mon amour," you had said, finally pausing in your laughter. "Go look under the Christmas tree."

Not knowing what else to do, he had stood up from the table and walked over to the tree. There was a small box underneath. He grabbed it and walked back over to you with a look of confusion. You nodded and he opened it.

Inside were two tickets to the same concert.

"You bought the same thing?" he had asked incredulously.

"Yes. I thought you would love it."

"Well I love it so much that I bought you the same thing," he laughed, now understanding what was so funny.

He had taken a picture of the two of you together each holding the tickets the other had bought. Your smiling faces stared back at him now from his phone. You had known each other so well. How had a relationship so deep crumbled?

He couldn't bear to let go of the memory. He scrolled to the next photo, stopping himself from pressing delete.

He had finally reached the last photo from your relationship. It was you, standing on his boat. One of his oversize shirts was on your shoulders. He always thought they looked better on you. With the image, the circumstances under which he took them came back to him. That he would delete it when you two got back together.

He thought back to that fateful day.

You had gone out together on his yacht. He had hoped it would be a lighthearted and relaxing break from the stress that had been plaguing your relationship. He saw you standing close to the edge of the boat and he had remembered a time where you had pushed him into the water, jumping in after him yourself. He walked over with the intention of recreating the fun moment.

But the second he pushed you, he knew he had misjudged the circumstances. You had shouted at him.

"Mon amour, it was just a joke Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?" he said, trying to smooth over the situation and bring some brightness back into the day.

"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."

He had sighed, wishing you could just appreciate the day with him. You two had descended into an argument afterwards. He didn't remember what he had said, only that he had wanted to make you see that he wasn't always the villain. Sure, he had neglected you in the past in favor of his career. But he was here now, wasn't he, trying to make it all better?

The rest of the argument was a blur in his head. Up until the point you had uttered the words that finally broke him.

"I don't think this is going to work anymore."

He had tried so hard for you. But his best wasn't good enough and he could see that now. Somewhere along the line you both had lost your understanding of the other person. Your relationship had become built on memories of the past and differing ideas of the future.

He had blinked back tears behind his sunglasses. He didn't want you to know how bad you had hurt him. Charles knew he had his fair share of blame for how things had turned out. He didn't want to cry in front of you now. He could hold it in until he got home, as much for your sake as his own.

The words he said next were crystal clear in his mind.

"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"

Charles had taken the picture that stared back at him now. Even now, he could tell how unhappy you were in the picture. It was clearly a fake smile that you had given him.

But even though the picture and the memory of how it all fell apart had pained him, he couldn't bear to delete the picture off his phone. The hope and the promise that he could still end up with you were too much to throw away.

Instead, he clicked onto your name in his messages. He selected the picture of you on that boat. His finger hovered over the send button. He had a choice to make.

But surely if you had wanted to see him again, you would have said something. You were probably happy now without him. He didn't want to ruin your peace. So he clicked out of your messages and into hers.

He sent another text back to the model, asking if she wanted to see him again next weekend. If you had wanted him out of your life, he owed it to you to make that happen. Even if he couldn't make himself delete your memories from his phone.

#charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic

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milunalupin · 3 months

Note

Could you do some regulus for valentines writing?

thank you for your patience, hope you enjoy :) and happy valentine's day to everyone <3

— candy grams

regulus black x reader ★ 772 words

The end of January was a cold and quiet time at Hogwarts. The holiday cheer has gone and winter truly makes itself known. Regulus Black found himself sitting in a empty nook in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, going over his Ancient Runes essay. Shoes squeaked floors below as the other students ran outside to play. Fluffy snowflakes fell past the tall windows, Regulus' eyes flickering out the window every few minutes to watch the snowfall. If he allowed himself to, he might admit to liking this time of year. Winter meant cozy sweaters and hiding out in his dorm, reading muggle poetry books charmed to look like a spell book.

The chattering and laughter of students exiting their classes began to fill the halls, Regulus sighing softly as his peace and quiet had come to an end. He collected his things and stored them back in his satchel, making his way down the stairs past the Charms classroom. The way down to the Slytherin common room was a longer one but Regulus took his time as he was in no hurry.

A girl with a white ribbon in her hair rushed past him, but stopped and turned when she realized he was there, a smile quickly making it's way onto her face. Regulus had seen her around, a muggleborn witch with an affinity for all magical things.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, I know you may be on your way to class or something important, but I'm selling candy grams for the upcoming holiday if you're interested in one?"

Candy gram? What the hell was a candy gram? Regulus supposed this is that 'dumb lovey muggle shit' Barty was talking about the other day. Walburga would be nothing less than disgusted if she found out he spent a single knut on a muggle object. He gives her a weird look and shook his head, declining silently.

"No worries! Have a lovely day!"

Her pretty smiled faltered but it came back up just as quick as it fell. She waved at him before dashing back down the stairs.

Regulus blinked, feeling his chest tighten slightly, shaking it off and continuing his path down to the dungeons.

Days have passed an Regulus is still wondering what a candy gram is. His mind continues to wander back to the girl and the ribbon in her hair as he leaves his last class of the day, spotting his brother's friend walking alone down the hall. He looked around to make sure no one of importance was watching him and quickly caught up to the tall Gryffindor.

"Lupin."

Remus turned in surprise as his best friend's little brother stands beside him. He notices what he believes to be nervousness masked by his composed stature.

"Regulus, can I help you?"

"What's a candy gram?"

Now Remus is truly confused. Why has Regulus Black stopped him and asked him what a candy gram is? He must have been making a strange face because Regulus glared up at him and crossed his arms.

"You're a half bre- blood, aren't you? If you don't know, then just forget any of this happened." He scoffed, waving his hand dismissively and turning to walk away. He only made it halfway down the hall when Remus called after him.

"It's for Valentine's Day. You buy candy for someone you care about, usually your friend, partner, or a crush."

Regulus' ears burn Gryffindor red as he walks away silently.

Regulus sees her again a week later. She had just returned from the Hogsmeade trip, white snowflakes sprinkled in her hair. Checking his surroundings, he carefully walked up to her as she spelled the snow off of her, quickly fixing his hair.

"Would you still happen to be selling those candy grams?" He asked, entranced by the small hairs framing her face that started to curl due to the snow.

"Absolutely! They're 15 sickles." She beamed, digging through her bag and pulling out a piece of candy with a little card attached. He handed her a few coins and opened the card up, following her finger as she pointed to two lines on the inside.

"You just write your name here, and then the person you're giving it to, here."

He stared down at the empty lines, then back at her with a small smile.

"I'm going to have to get your name then."

Her eyes widened, and Regulus had hoped it wasn't just the cold that turned her cheeks pink. Safe to say he's found another reason to like this time of year, and she wore a white ribbon in her hair.

#marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus arcturus black

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libraryofloveletters · 5 months

Text

The Christmas Market

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: home sick reader, pierre is trying his best, christmas markets, cheesy couple stuff, pierre is kinda sweet when he's not being an ick, pierre can't skate for shit, cooties as these kids would say.

Word Count: 718

Author's Note: again, my charity of the month writing the man. y'all know I don't fuck with this man like that lmaooo - for @2-fast-2-curious cause this is her pookie

You were missing home quite a bit and Pierre decides to indulge in one of your favourite holiday traditions.

Home sickness was no joke and it was kicking in big time.

You lived in Milan since you had applied to go to University there. You moved during your first year and fell in love with the place and with a certain formula one driver who lived there as well.

As much as you've come to love Milan and Pierre, you always went home for the holidays. For the last three years, you were home for Christmas and in France for new years with your boyfriend, Pierre and his family.

This year was much different, your studies kept you in Milan a lot longer than expected and you would be missing out on a lot of your family traditions.

No tree decorating, no cookie decorating and no Christmas market.

Pierre being the sweet boyfriend he was, was trying his best to cheer you up as much as he could. He usually waited until a week or two before Christmas to get his Christmas tree but this year, he bought the biggest artificial tree one could find and about a million and one ornaments to see if he could improve your mood.

And for a bit, it did work. The 5 hours it took you two to put the tree together, your mood did improve but the next day, it was back to focusing on your exams and the lack of Christmas mood was apparent.

He offered to bake cookies with you but you turned down his offer; you typically baked your mom's famous and secret cookies but you didn't have the recipe, hence the secret part.

Pierre was running out of ideas but then an ad for the Christmas market popped on his Instagram.

He finds you on the couch, finally popping your laptop for the afternoon. "How about a date night?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Babe," you groaned, letting him pull you up. "I'm not really in the mood."

"C'mon, some fresh air will make you feel better. You've been glued to your laptop all day."

"Fine," you gave in, the two of you getting ready. Pierre didn't give you any idea as to where you're going other than to dress warm. You figured you'd probably walk to dinner or something but you weren't - he opened the car door for you, driving to some undisclosed location.

To be honest, you weren't paying much attention to him or where he was going until the car came to a full stop, Pierre turning off the engine. You finally look up from your phone to see the sign in front of you; Christmas market.

"You didn't," you turn to face your boyfriend.

The man smiles, nodding. "I know it's not the one at home but, it's still a Christmas market so I hope that counts."

"Of course it does!" You reach over to give him a kiss, your hand resting on his jaw softly.

Pierre gets out of the car and you mirror his action, the two of you holding hands as you walk into the market.

The Christmas trees planted around the place, the lights wrapped around the roof of each stand, the sound of laughter and cheesy Christmas music filled your ears, as did the smell of gingerbread. You two decided to make the rounds.

You walked through the market, taking in all of it. Pierre let you drag him to every booth, buying you whatever your heart desired, even the ridiculously overpriced hot cocoa. You took photos as you went, stopping in at the photo booth; the classic ones of you two smiling, giggling and kissing with the stamp at the bottom - Milan Christmas Market 2023.

The night wrapped up with you attempting to teach Pierre how to skate. His hands in yours as you carefully took him around the skating rink.

He falls against you, you're pinned between him - a man struggling to hold himself up- and the barricade. "Did you have a good time?" He asks and you nod, a smile on your face.

"I did. Thank you for this, baby."

Pierre leans in, almost slipping but he catches himself as he kisses you. There's a little boy skating by, doing better than Pierre you might add, who makes a face at you two kissing. "Ew!"

You and Pierre can't help your laughter.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 imagine

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 4 months

Text

Holiday Treats

Summary: Christmas Eve is filled with cuddles and cookies, but Christmas morning....now that's filled with something even more delicious

Warnings: slight angsty bits i guess, smut(fingering, unprotected vaginal sex)

Authors note: yes, i said I wouldn't be posting here anymore but ya know what, I've put too much work into this damn masterlist to not carry on even with lack of interest, and anons are off so i hopefully can't receive any more hate

Authors note 2.0: its late, but here's the first Christmas fic!

Word Count: 4293 BuckyNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Steam surrounds Natasha as she stands under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down onto her body and soothe her muscles. After a few more minutes she decides it's time to get out, even if she doesn't want to leave its warm embrace and step out into the chill of the apartment. Not that it truly was cold, not with the heat cranked up the way it was to fight off the outside December weather, but still, it was enough of a difference to matter.

With the water now off, she's treated to the sound of Christmas music as it softly plays in the living room, filling the apartment in a cozy and cheerful atmosphere. It brings a smile to her face, and she now finds herself much more willing to get out. She opens the glass shower door and carefully steps out, wrapping herself and then her hair in fluffy towels adorned with little snowmen embroidered in the corners.

She quickly dries herself off and moves closer to the countertop, grabbing her clothes and quickly putting her bra and underwear on. She slips on a pair of leggings next before finishing the look with her new Christmas sweater that you had gotten her. She wipes away the fog on the mirror in order to get a glimpse of how she looks in it, and her smile widens. She hopes you like it on her just as much as she does.

After drying her hair she finally emerges, and makes a beeline out of the bedroom in order to find her lovers, and her heart practically melts when she finds you both.

“Why are you making some when we have these?” James, who also has on the Christmas sweater you bought him, asks as he looks over at a pile of boxes on the table

“Because those are premade kits for us to make gingerbread cookie houses” you explain, “And I, am making us regular cookies to eat”

“We can't eat these?” he asks

You chuckle as you sort through your cookie cutters, “We can, yes. But I thought it would be nice to have a variety to bake together too”

“Can we make peanut butter ones?” Nat asks, making her presence known. Your face lights up when you see her in her sweater, making her heart swell

“Of course we can” you answer, smiling softly at the two as she joins James at the table, “I have supplies for some chocolate chip ones and sugar cookies too”

“You're spoiling us” James says, but the way the corner of his mouth tilts up tells you that he isn't really against that notion

You shrug, “The two of you deserve to be spoiled. Especially at Christmas”

Both practically melt at hearing that, and neither could fully understand what they did to deserve such a loving and caring partner after all they've done, but they certainly were glad they were able to call you theirs.

“Okay, so what are we making first then?” Nat asks, making her way over to you and your countertop covered in supplies and ingredients

“Well, since we wouldn't want to ruin these fantastic sweaters you both have on” you tease, “Lets put these on”

By the time you grab the aprons, James has also joined you at the counter, and he can't help but laugh when he sees Well Hung written on the one you're handing him in fancy cursive writing accompanied by a few decorative bulbs.

“Don't laugh, we all know it's true” you say with a wink, leaving his cheeks to turn pink as you hand Nat one of the others

She reacts similarly when handed hers. Santas face wearing sunglasses takes up most of the space, with the words I do it for the HOs written underneath

“Does that mean you and James are hoes then?” She teases, “Because you know I only do things for the two of you.”

“I know love, and I'm happy to be your hoe any day of the week. What about you James?”

He playfully rolls his eyes before answering, “Gladly. Anytime and any place”

“Oh, now don't tell her that” you scold, slapping his arm, “Or we'll never get these cookies done”

She laughs, confirming your thoughts with her signature smirk, “Well, we wouldn't want that, so lets see your apron then”

Yours has a picture of old parchment with an ink quill with the phrase I'm the reason Santa has a naughty list scrolled across it. Both chuckle as James shakes his head

“You could say that again”

“Hey!” You pout, “I'm actually very well behaved thank you very much”

“Oh, we know detka(baby)” the redhead purrs, making you gulp, “Now, keep behaving and tell us where to start”

You clear your throat in order to regain your cool, even if the blush on your cheeks remains, “Well, I have all of the dry ingredients set out already, so if one of you could grab the mixing bowls and spoon and the other grab the eggs, butter, peanut butter and vanilla extract please?”

Without even speaking a word to each other, they head in separate directions, Nat going for the rest of the ingredients and James going for the bowls. You smile in gratitude as they both set everything on the counter, both giving excited smiles and return and it breaks your heart to think about the fact that probably neither of them have made cookies before.

“Okay, so Tasha you're in charge of the peanut butter ones”

“Of course” James teases, making her stick her tongue out in response

You shake your head at their antics, but carry on, “And James, you've got the sugar cookies”

“That's because you can’t mess those up” Nat tells him, jabbing his ribs with her finger

“Ow, stop that” he chastises, batting away her hand with his metal one

“Behave” you tell them pointedly, though the smile on your face tells them you aren’t entirely serious

Still both compuse themselves, and turn to you waiting for you to guide them in cookie baking. They follow along as you tell them how much of each ingredient to put in while you get your own batch of cookies ready, and when the time comes for mixing everything together you watch fondly as they do their best to get all the lumps out. The next task is to portion out the dough and get it on baking pans, which you had already laid out on top of the oven. You hand them each their own tray before bringing your own over

“Good job loves, you did very well and your doughs look delicious” you praise, watching their faces light up, “Start rolling them into balls for the trays so we can bake them”

“How big do we make them?” Nat asks, already starting to roll one

You take a bit of your own dough into your hands and begin rolling it, “Big enough that you can fit all the dough onto the tray, but small enough that there's a decent amount of space between them so they don’t end up touching.”

They both nod before proceeding to follow your instructions, and before long you have three trays full of cookies ready to bake. Natasha smiles as she looks down at her peanut butter tray and pride fills her. It was hard for her sometimes, not feeling embarrassed for having to learn something that most people were taught growing up or just learned through the normal human experience. But from the start, you and James had never treated her differently for not knowing something. Instead the two of you would always explain things to her and help her, doing it in a way that didn’t make her feel stupid or babied but instead had her confidence blossoming. And she would forever be grateful for both of your kindness and patience.

On your other side, Bucky feels proud too, but for a different reason. He's just happy to have done something fun that will bring joy. Even if it was short lasting and in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential. He's done so much violence and harm in his life, and even if it hadn’t been done of his own volition, that doesn’t ease the guilt that gnaws at him. But doing stuff like this, yeah, sometimes that made the guilt fade for a while. Because it was good, and harmless and it just let him be normal and use his hands to create instead of ruin. And having the two women he loved more than anything by his side, loving him despite his flaws and traumas, and sharing in those good memories, it meant more to him than words could ever even begin to describe.

“Okay, that should do it” you announce, breaking both of them from their trains of thought, “James could you preheat the oven to 350 please?”

“Yeah, sure” He says, wiping his hands on his apron before moving to do as he's told

Nat takes this opportunity to wrap her arms around your middle to pull you close against her and kiss your cheek, “Thank you detka(baby), for helping us make these.”

“Of course love, and it can be one of our new Christmas tradition for us if you’d both like”

“We’d love that” James answers, having seen the look on the redheads face at your words and knowing his face showed the same

You smile as he joins in the embrace, placing a kiss on your other cheek as his one arm wraps around your waist to tangle with Nats, “Good. It’s important to have traditions. Now let's get everything in the sink and clean ourselves up. By then the oven should be heated”

Sure enough, as soon as you all finish up cleaning and removing your aprons, the oven dings. You put your own tray in first before watching them do the same, but you had to stop yourself from shouting out to James to be careful not to touch the coils, momentarily forgetting that his metal appendage wouldn't be harmed.

“Alright, now that they're in, we should have enough time for a cuddle session in the living room before they're done.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Your girlfriend teases, the corners of her mouth lifting up to show her interest in the idea

James wraps his arms around you both, “Well, then what are we waiting for? Come on”

He leads you both into the room, but as he sees the state of the couch, his excitement falters a bit. Sensing his posture shift, the Russian tears her gaze away from the beautiful tree in the corner and moves it over to the furniture. She can hardly stifle a giggle as she takes in Liho and Alpine all stretched out, nearly taking up all the cushion space

“Come on guys, that's just unfair” he huffs, “Can't you move over to your bed? It's just like a giant cushion. And it's in front of the fire, nice and warm.”

To no surprise, neither feline moves or even shows interest, which deflates him further. Now you're the one trying to stifle your giggles as he goes to move them, only to be stopped by Nat

“Nope, don't think so. They were their first”

“You can't be serious” your boyfriend scoffs, looking over at you for help

You raise your hands in defense, “You heard the lady. And besides, you said so yourself, their huge bed is indeed a big cushion. So…”

A few minutes later, the three of you are indeed on the comically large pet bed, with James squished in the middle. His arms are wrapped around your waist and Nats while the two of you hold hands behind his back. It's an incredibly soft and domestic scene, one which you doubt either of them had ever thought they'd get the opportunity to indulge in. Thoughts like that always make you simultaneously sad and happy. Sad because they deserved so much more and so much better, but happy because they're here with each other and you which means they are getting what they deserve now. And you’d give them that until the world stopped

A log crackles and pops on the fire, which gains your attention, and as you gaze at it James breaks the silence, “Thank you for all of this Y/n, it really means a lot to Nat and I that you've helped us have our first true Christmas in god only knows how long”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, neither of you do. It’s my pleasure to be able to give you happy memories as we spend time together. Have you enjoyed anything more than the other activities so far?”

“I think the cartoon movies were my favorite.” Nat admits, “They brought out that childhood wonder I have rarely gotten to feel since Ohio.”

The admission has you smiling wide and tearing up a little if you're honest, “I’m glad to hear that baby.”

“I liked decorating the tree.” James says next, “Reminded me of when my sister and I would do it together. We always did it too, even after I’d grown and started my training for the Army and even once I was enlisted too. I hope she always carried me in spirit while continuing the tradition just like I carried her with us this year.”

Now Natasha was holding back tears of her own as she kisses his cheek, “I’m sure she did dorogoy(darling), I’m sure she did”

After a few more minutes of shared memories and peaceful silence the oven timer dings, signaling that the cookies were done baking. You and your two helpers trot to the kitchen to remove your respective trays, and James immediately attempts to take one to try.

You slap his metal hand, “Your hand may not feel it, but I promise you that your mouth would”

“But they look so yummy, and it's already past ten”

“Grandpa” Nat chuckles, earning herself a playful glare from the man

“It’s not because I’m old. It’d because I know that we’ll all be up earlier than we normally would in order to enjoy ourselves here before going to Tonys” he elaborates, though you and Nat know it really is a bit of both

“Alright, fine. I’ll give you that” you tell him grabbing some glasses and plates from the nearby cupboard, “So we’ll have our milk on stand by”

You each put a few cookies on your plates and fill your glasses with milk before taking a seat at the kitchen table. It gives the perfect view of the city on a normal occasion, but now it's even more magical. Snowflakes flutter through the air, drifting down towards the piles that already adorn the rooftops and alleyways, and the twinkle of multicolored lights is almost endless. IT was the perfect scenery to end the night looking at, and the silence that fills the air as your partners also look over the city tell you that they feel the same and are just as enamored by the view.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to finish your cookies, turn off your Christmas playlist and get changed into your festive matching pajama sets. And now the three of you are settled into bed, a mess of tangled limbs and body head as you all cuddle together.

“Goodnight you two” you whisper, squeezing them both affectionately

“Night Y/n, Nat” James mumbles, already half asleep

You can feel the Russian smile against your neck at his sleepy response, “Goodnight loves”

Come morning, Natasha is of course the first to wake up. And no, it had nothing to do with her being excited, she was just naturally an early riser. Okay, so maybe she was a bit excited, but she would have been awake at this hour regardless. With the curtains being drawn the room is still enveloped in darkness, but that doesn’t stop her from gazing in her lovers directions. With her highly tuned senses her eyes quickly adjust, and when can begin to make the two of you out. James, as expected is still out cold, snoring softly. But to her surprise she finds your eyes wide open as you stare at her with a loving smile

“Hi”

“Hi” she greets, reaching out to grab your hip, “You're supposed to be sleeping”

“One could argue the same about you” you reply, cupping her face

She chuckles, “Touche, but we all know I’m an early riser”

“I am too on Christmas” you explain, “I just get filled with too much excitement for the day, can’t keep my eyes closed”

She lets out a hum of understanding as she shifts, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer. With you now right up against her she tucks her face against your neck, letting her warm breath fan across your skin as her hands trace comforting circles against your pajama top

You relax into her embrace and reach out to run your hand through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp as you do so. It's one of her favorite gestures, and she practically purrs at the affection as she places a gentle kiss against your collarbone. As careful as possible she slipes her thigh between your own, and you catch on to what she's doing

“You're up to something” you whisper, making her smile against you

“Maybe” she responds, letting one of her hands go up under your shirt

Her cool hand makes you shudder and you press yourself even further against her, “Tasha, you don’t have to”

“I know. But I want to” she answers, beginning to trail kisses across your jaw, “I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. Please Y/n, can I?”

You fight the urge to dumbly nod, remembering the still slumbering man behind you, “What about James?”

“Oh, I’m sure he wants the same thing detka(baby), and we both know you can’t stay quiet” a whine escapes you at this and she chuckles before continuing, “So when you wake him, he can join us. Does that sound good?”

“Yes”

“Good” she says, kissing you briefly as her hand makes it way to your hip, “Now, start grinding my love, I know you want to”

You begin to roll your hips against her and she tenses her muscle for you. The feeling of her strength alone is enough to have even more heat pooling in your belly, but when her hands move to cup your breasts, you know you're making a mess in your panties

“Tasha” you whimper out, feeling you core throb at just her simplest of touches

“I’m right here” she assures, letting one of her hands trail down your body until it reaches your waistband. She shifts back enough to get a good look at your face as she slips into your pants, swiping her fingers through your soaked heat, “So wet for me”

“Please” you beg, pushing your hips closer to entice her, and it works. She eagerly obliges, pushing two of her fingers inside you with ease and curling them just right, “Oh god”

She begins to pump her fingers steadily inside you as her other hand still works at your chest. It's a miracle your still cognizant of your surroundings with as easily as she's able to work you up, and you can’t help but let out sounds of pleasure as she does everything just right

“You sound so pretty detka(baby)” she whispers before connecting her lips against yours. It's full of nothing but passion as she pours out her love for you in it, making you feel a bit bad that all you can do is return it sloppily due to your current mindset

When her lips finally pull away from yours, another arm wraps around your center and James hot breath is in your ear, “She definitely does. Best sound to wake up to”

He gropes you over your pajamas, causing a wanton moan to leave you as your walls clench down upon Natashas fingers which has her moaning as well. She can tell how close you are so she brings her thumb up to brush against your clit

“Ah! Tasha!”

“Gonna cum for her pretty girl?” James asks, feeling how your body begins to shake. You nod furiously at his question and he looks at the redhead with a smile

“Go ahead, cum when you're ready”

As soon as she says in you clamp down on her with a vice like grip and throw your head back against James as pleasure washes over you. Natasha is treated to a gush of your juices down her palm and the sight of you blissed out in pleasure coupled with all your earlier sounds has her underwear quite a mess themselves

“Hell of a way to wake up” James teases, his hand gently rubbing your side to help calm you down

Nat only smiles at him, “Well, she isn’t complaining”

“Neither am I” he assures, reaching out to cup her face, “But now I think it's your turn”

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink as he pulls her in, letting her lips meet yours once more before his takes your place. You let your hands roam across the toned muscles of her abdomen as the two of them kiss, and try not to squirm as her fingers finally slip from inside you

“But Y/n- ”

“Will be fine, I’m a great multitasker.” he states, shifting slightly to allow you to feel the bulge at the front of his pants

“Oh” you moan, feeling yourself already becoming needy for him

“You like how that sounds baby?” he asks, his chin stubble tickling your ear

“Yes please” you answer, reaching back to palm him

His hips lightly roll against you, “Get your pants off for me then”

You wiggle to do just that while you're still stuck between the two. Once he realizes you've done as he asked he moves his pants and boxers down enough to free his length, which is already throbbing at just the mere idea of pleasing his girls. He guides it forward, pressing the tip against your dripping folds and you watch his hand move to grab your girlfriends plump ass, “And what about you Tasha, you okay with this?”

“Yes” she affirms, moving slightly to both be closer to you and give him better access

His hand withdraws from her momentarily to hoist your heg up over her waist, and he pushes himself inside you. You gasp as his thickness stretches you open, and your hands find purchase on areas of your girlfriend to help ground yourself. Before Natasha can even register it, his hand is in her bottoms, and his fingers are toying with her entrance

“James…please”

“I've got you” he tells her before slipping two fingers inside her just as she’d done with you

She moans at the stretch and shivers at your despret touches as he starts to roll his hips forward, making you take him even deeper. One of the perks of his serum is the extra stamina, which definitely comes in handy at times like this. He's able to keep up with ease, pumping and curling his fingers in Natashas cunt in perfect rhythm with how he's thrusting his dick into yours

“God you both feel so good around me” he groans, quickening his pace a little

Natasha lets out a moan of her own and her own as he hits that perfect spot inside her, and you find yourself eye to eye with her as her hand clutches onto your thigh as pleasure overtakes her features. The sight alone has you clenching down on James even harder so he starts to move his thumb against your girlfriends clit, reveling in how she begins to shake

“Oh god…oh god, James” she moans, her eyes practically rolling back

“Go ahead krasivaya(beautiful)”

The Russian word is what sends her over the edge with a cry, which effectively has you coming right after her. As pleasure crashes over you, you can feel James erupt, filling you with his seed.

He continues his movements, helping you both come down from your climaxes until Nat whimpers. As soon as he pulls his hand from her she's curling up against your still heaving chest, seeking the comfort of cuddles. You waste no time in indulging her in this, wrapping your arms around her waist and pepper kisses against her hairline while James simultaneously rubs her back soothingly and kisses your neck as he snuggles against it

“Merry Christmas moya lyubov'(my loves)” she says, trying her best to get her arms around you both, “Thank you both for being the best gift I could ever receive on any holiday”

“Merry Christmas Tasha, James” you reply, “I love you both more than words describe”

James smiles at you both, having never felt so full of love or hope before, “Merry Christmas my girls. Thank you for making this one, and every one after it, special”

You and Nat hum in acknowledgement and you truly just take a moment to thank the universe. You're so glad it was you that got the privilege of having these two incredibly kind and misunderstood people by your side. You're glad it was you that could help mend their wounds and broken hearts, and know they feel the same. Without you they'd be lost, but with you they have a home. A place to be and a thing to celebrate this holiday season. And what could be more perfect than that.

Taglist: @when-wolves-howl @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @eline03 @wizardofstories @marvelonmymind @bitch-616 @yelenasdiary

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #buckynat #buckynat x reader #bucky x natasha #winterwidow #winterwidow x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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ameenvie · 4 months

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Last Christmas - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

"Now I know what a fool I've been, but if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again"

@emeraldsandelderberries asked: jaime x reader christmas request :) maybe a second chance romance a la “last christmas” by wham! ? Word count: 4.3k Warnings: none really! I guess anxiety and panic attacks if you squint, but not really Tags: fluff, second chance, christmas, drama, hurt/comfort A/N: This request was soooooooo sweet!!! AH I LOVED IT, I'm so sorry it's this late! 😭 IT might be a bit more dramatic/moody than you've wanted but I really hope you like it! ❤❤

Christmastime in London was always special to you. You loved how the storefronts all dressed up into colourful decorations and cheerful lights, how the smell of warm cookies filled the air as you passed your favourite bakery on your way to work. Excitement and restlessness filled people’s hearts as they were waiting for a little break at the end of the year, a time of reflection and hope. And honestly you could’ve used a fresh start.

Work was hectic in the office before at the end of the year, but you always pushed through by thinking of the holidays approaching faster day by day. The last weeks before Christmas were all about secret Santas and Christmas gatherings at the office as well.

You were having lunch in the small kitchen at work when your phone lit up with your best friend’s name. She usually doesn’t call, so you answered suspiciously.

“I have a huge favour to ask” she said quickly without even saying hello. You put your face into your palm as you braced yourself for what was about to come and even like that you were shocked at her next words. “I need you to come to the company Christmas Party with me.”

“You what?” you asked, trying to conceal the sudden anger in your voice that was bubbling up inside you. It wasn’t like you to get angry easily, especially not on her, but this time it came so out of the blue. Why would she ask that?

“I know babes, I’m so sorry I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t life or death!”

“How can a Christmas party be life or death?” you asked cynically, drumming your fingers on the table next to your lunch. You’ve lost all your appetite.

“I will die if you won’t come with me, that’s how” she joked, trying to lighten your mood.

“You’re so dramatic” you chuckled, but you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Go on.”

“Look, I don’t want to spend all my evening alone with my coworkers and their families and my rich boss, and insufferable football players!” she started. “You know this is not like a few-drinks-in-the-office kind of party, it’s full bling in a fancy hotel and shitton of food and booze!” you could basically see her waving her hand around while talking. “I thought just the two of us could hang out, get hammered and judge others. What do you say?” You rolled your eyes. She knew this was a compelling offer, but not compelling enough. Not when you could risk running into him.

“Okay, but!” You started and held up a finger like she could see it through the phone. “I have the right to leave at any time I want. Deal?” You heard her let out an annoyed groan at the other end of the line.

“Fine, whatever. I know you’ll love it.”

“I sure will. What do I wear?”

“Go all out babe. I’ll meet you tomorrow at 6. Love yous!” She hung up the call and you placed your phone on the table and just stared at it for a moment.

Your best friend was working at Richmond FC. The football club whose every match you’ve seen since you remember, up until last year. It was your family’s team. Now thanks to Jamie Tartt, you couldn’t even think of the name Richmond. And now your friend wants you to go back there, all dressed up, to an event where you could possibly – or even most likely – meet him and have to talk to him. Have to smile at him like he didn’t break your heart. Like you didn’t cry about him for months after he left.

But you weren’t that girl anymore, were you? Time has passed, you moved on, right? You didn’t cry about him anymore. But the twisting feeling in your gut when you thought about him, when someone mentioned him or even the team, when you saw ads with him told you otherwise. Told you that you in fact, have not moved on. But he doesn’t have to know that.

The walk on the way home was chilly and this time you couldn’t admire the flickering Christmas lights around you on the street, nor the sweet smell of cookies coming from the bakery. Your mind was filled with the thought of him, and the possibility of seeing him again. The thought of your friend being an asshole also crossed your mind a few times, but you knew she didn’t mean any harm. For all she knew you were over Jamie. And you were convinced of that too, but the squeezing feeling in your chest told you otherwise. You didn’t listen though. You didn’t care about him. You didn’t.

You told that to yourself the next day as you looked for that beautiful dress in your wardrobe that you might or might not wanted to wear to impress him. To make him feel like an idiot for throwing you away. You didn’t care about him. As you did your makeup a little more elegant than usual. You didn’t care about him. As you did the finishing touches on your hair. You didn’t care about him.

You picked up your purse and locked the door when you saw your friend calling, meaning she was there to pick you up with a cab. The cold air made you shiver a little and you were thankful for the ride. Wintertime was really not made for having these parties. A thin layer of snow covered the streets and the rooftops, the streetlights painting it a warm hue of gold. You let out a relieved sigh, suddenly you felt calm from the peaceful sight. You hopped in the cab and closed the door. Your friend let out an audible gasp as she looked at you.

“You look fucking fit, girl!” she squealed before she hugged you. You scoffed and chuckled before pulling away.

“Thanks, I guess” you smiled, heat crawling to your ears. Your friend gave the address of the venue to the cab driver, and you were off into the night.

“You really did go all the way, huh?”

“Your wish is my command!” you smiled at her, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“I got you something” she said and started to rummage through her small purse before she pulled out a small bottle of liquor. You laughed.

“Aren’t we going to a party with unlimited free booze?”

“Wanted to have a moment for just the two of us. No offense” she chuckled and looked at the cab driver who smiled back at her. “Thanks for being here.”

“My pleasure” you replied and took a sip out of the bottle. You felt the liquid burn your throat before you handed it to her. Truth be told, you felt alright. Together with your best friend, dressed to the nines, having a fun night out. Who cares about Jamie Tartt?

When you stepped inside the giant ballroom, your breath got caught in your throat. You’ve been to fancy places before – mostly with Jamie -, but nothing of such magnitude. The room was framed by insanely tall walls with red velvet covering, and shiny accents. Christmas ornaments and decorations hung from the ceiling next to the chandeliers, and there was a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner, next to the stage where the band played soft jazz music. Round tables occupied half of the room in a neatly organised pattern, the other half was the dancefloor.

Kind men took your coat, and you clutched your purse to try to calm your nerves. You felt like you didn’t belong, you stuck out like a sore thumb among these gorgeous and rich people. You felt your friend’s hand squeeze your own as she led you further into the room.

“It’s gonna be fine. We’re eating, getting wasted, dancing then going home, ‘kay?”

“Okay” you breathed. You didn’t dare to look around the room in case you recognised someone. Him.

The two of you made a beeline towards the bar and ordered your favourite shot that you drank immediately. You hoped it would calm your nerves a little.

“Easy girl, the night is still young!”

“That’s especially why I’m drinking” you chuckled. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your heart dropped to your stomach, blood freezing in your veins. That was until you’ve turned and saw Sam’s face and his thousand-watt smile.

“I knew it was you! It’s so good to see you!” he cheered, his accented voice ringing in your ear as he hugged you.

“Sam, oh my God! Look at you, you look amazing!” you answered and rested your hand on his arms. “How you’ve been?”

“Good, good! We have a lot to catch up on, you should write sometimes y’know!” Fuck.

“I know, I’m sorry.” A frown settled on your face, and he immediately tried to lighten the mood.

“Just messing with you. But hey, make sure to come say hi to the others later, okay?” he said, and he gestured to the other side of the room, and your gaze instinctively followed. Mistake.

There he was, in all his glory, as tall and handsome as ever. His hair was different, a bit longer and had highlights in it. It really suited him. He wore a slightly unbuttoned shirt and had its sleeves rolled up, his jacket discarded on a nearby chair.

You’ve felt like throwing up, the content of your stomach making somersaults nonstop. Yet you smiled like nothing happened and nodded at Sam. Your friend who you haven’t spoken to in months because he reminded you of Jamie. What an asshole move. And he was so kind he just forgave you.

“We sure will” you answered and squeezed his arm before you let go. And as he turned you sneaked another peek in Jamie’s direction. You felt lightheaded as his gaze caught yours and you looked away in a blink of an eye, turning your back at him.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry, look, we can just leave” your friend whispered as she looked at you concerned, but you just shook your head.

“I’m fine, really. When is dinner again?”

“In like half an hour” she replied.

“Mint, I’ll catch my breath outside and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s fine, really” you protested. “It’ll be just a minute, promise.”

“Fine” she sighed as she rubbed your arms. “But just a word and we’ll be out of here!” You nodded and headed towards the door that led to the back garden. Your steps were quick, and you had your head low to avoid anyone stopping you in your track. But you felt like your heels were too loud, that everyone was looking at you, that he was looking at you. In reality, only one of those was true.

As you opened the door, the cold air bit into your skin as you stepped outside. The garden was gigantic, and the grass was covered in a thin layer of snow. There were gravel paths going around in twisty patterns curving around shrubbery and statues.

To your surprise there were standing tables outside accompanied by tall heaters. You weren’t cold but you knew it was just temporary, so you took a beeline towards one of the heaters and stood next to the table under it. It was kind of magical, hearing only the distant music from the ballroom and nothing else, watching the snow-covered garden. You felt your heartbeat slow down and anxious thoughts leaving your head.

You heard footsteps approaching and you turned towards them with a smile, thinking it was Sam or your best friend. Of course, that was not the case. He took his jacket back on, but the top buttons on his shirt were still undone. He looked at you with a shy smile.

“I knew I saw you” he said, his hands in his pockets. You knew he was fiddling with them like he always did. You didn’t reply and you weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the anger. You stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Me neither” you replied, and your voice was colder than you thought it would be. It was perfect. He just couldn't see how he ruined you. He just couldn't.

“I can leave if you want?” he said, but it was almost like a question. A question you didn’t really know the answer for. Did you want him to leave? Or were you just over the moon that he was there, standing in front of you, with a heavy heart and a shy smile? You kind of never wanted that moment to end. You felt pathetic and you looked away from him, which he took as a cue to leave. “It’s alright. It was nice seeing you. You look beautiful.” What an asshole. What right does he have to call you that?

He turned his back on you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at your shoes. The fancy shoes that you might or might not picked out to impress him. You did get what you wanted didn’t you? He did call you beautiful. So why was it making you so angry?

“I just” he hesitated before continuing. “Wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly.” You looked up at him. His body was halfway turned from you, and he looked back, head hung low and a few strands of his hair fell into his eyes. Your ears were ringing as your heart was pounding in your chest.

“I was a royal prick. And you-“ he scratched his throat. “You deserved better. And you deserve better than me ruining your night, so I’ll leave you be. Sorry. Truly, it was nice seeing you.” he said and turned away. You felt like your mouth acted on its own as you called out after him. His gaze snapped back and met yours.

“Would you-“ you paused. “Like to stay a bit?” You could see his shoulders relax as he let out a breath he was holding. A smile found its way past his lips as he stepped closer to you under the heater.

“I’m glad you asked because I started to freeze my arse off” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But he was still very aware of his situation.

“Yeah, why can’t these company parties be held in the summer? You get all dressed up only to freeze your tits off” you smiled back at him. He was leaning against the table as he looked at you. It somehow felt right, being there with him.

“Well, some of us are more dressed up than others” he grinned as his eyes wandered up and down on your body. You pretended you didn’t see it, but the rising heat in your body said otherwise.

“I know, Rebecca looks insanely good tonight” you said to deflect the compliment.

“Yeah, she’s really good at this glam thing. Kinda jealous of her.” You cocked your eyebrow at him, but you didn’t say a word. Signalling him to go on. “Most of the times I just can’t wait to bolt at these events.”

“Why don’t you? Are you on the clock or something?” you asked, clutching your purse for dear life. The more reasonable part of your brain said you should just tell him to piss off. But you didn’t.

“Nah” he shrugged. “I just like the company a bit more than usual.”

You felt your heart flutter at the compliment. Then you immediately felt sadness. Then anger.

“Jamie, why on earth are you here?”

“Umm, it’s a company Christmas party?” he answered with a question, feigning ignorance.

“I meant here. And you know that. If you really would've liked my company, you probably wouldn't have dumped me to fuck around” you snapped at him and straightened your back, preparing to leave him. “Merry Christmas, Jamie.”

You turned on your heels and headed towards the main building. Now that you’ve stepped away from the heater the cold winter air crawled against your skin once more, tears prickling your eyes. You were stupid for coming here.

You picked up your pace before you felt a warm hand grip your wrist. You felt tired. You felt like you had no energy to do this right now.

“Please, love. Just give me a chance.”

“A chance for what, Jamie? To break my heart again?” you asked in a choked voice from holding the tears at bay. He let go of you and ran his hands through his hair. You hated how you knew he always did that when he was nervous. All this knowledge of him, all that love for him. What were you supposed to do with them now?

“What can I do to make it right? I’ll do anything.”

“Stop making a fool out of me. What do you want? A good nostalgia lay? A charity one, because it’s Christmas?” You were so angry at him. If all these were true, why did he just dump you? Say all those things he said. But at the same time, you wanted this to be true. But you weren’t ready for another heartbreak.

“Piss off, I’ve cried enough because of you already.” You turned your back on him again and stormed off. You saw your friend's silhouette at the door, and you felt relieved.

“I’m so sorry babes, I’ll call a cab, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s fine. I won’t give him the satisfaction of leaving” you let out a shaky breath and hugged your friend.

“What did he want anyway?”

“He said” you started but your voice choked up. “He said he was sorry. That he wanted to make it right.”

“You’re kidding. What did you say?”

“I told him to piss off, as you can see” you answered and let out a dry laugh.

“I can see that, but why?” she asked, and you snapped your gaze at her.

“What do you mean why? Don’t you remember he broke up with me to chase models instead?”

“But maybe he does want to make it right… and you love-“ she said but you broke her off.

“I don’t. Please can we just drop this? Let’s have dinner, what do you think?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Dinner was served by elegant waiters, all different kinds of soups, meats, salads, whatever you could’ve wished for. And fortunately, they didn’t hesitate to bring you drinks as well.

“No way!” you laughed at another guy who was sitting at your table. He was your friend’s coworker, or something like that. You actually had a really great time since the dinner started. These people were nice and funny, and took your mind off of Jamie for a bit. That was all you could’ve asked for.

“It’s nice to meet finally meet you guys in person, I’ve heard so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for ages!”

“Only good I hope!” another girl, Jenna chimed in and chuckled while your friend just rolled her eyes to hide her awkwardness. Mixing friend groups was always a stressful experience for her. Suddenly Jenna whispered something to the person who was sitting next to her – you remembered her name being Ellie.

“Yeah, for sure” Ellie said, covering her mouth while laughing.

“C’mon girls, didn’t they tell you it’s rude to whisper when you have company? Spill it!” your friend whined as she took another sip from her drink. Jenna rolled her eyes playfully before she leaned closer to the two of you.

“We were just talking about how shaggable some of our footballers are” she giggled, and you choked on your drink, what earned you a few weird looks.

“I’m sorry, I just tried to laugh and swallow at the same time” you replied quickly. During your exchange the wait staff started to clear your tables as the dinner was about to end, leaving place for the music, dancing, and drinking.

“Or maybe you fancy the gaffer? No shame in that he’s pretty fit himself” Ellie continued before Jenna cut her off.

“You bet he is. And he’s such a gentleman, I’ve ran into him at the cafeteria once. Maybe even too much of a gentleman.” She gave a knowing look before she chuckled. You knew this was going to be bad.

“C’mon girls, stop it! Anybody can hear you!” your friend tried to stop the situation from getting worse, but it was of no use.

“So, new girl, what do you say? Do you have a favourite guy on the team?” Jenna rested her head in her hands as she was looking at you, batting her eyelashes. She didn’t mean no harm; she had no way of knowing that you were in fact an ex-girlfriend of one of them.

“You know what, I’m kind of a Roy Kent girl myself” you said, and your friend snorted next to you, almost spitting her drink. You flashed a huge smile at her before clinking your glass against hers. The rest of the girls made approving noises before they got interrupted.

“That kinda hurts” his voice pierced your ears, and your heart went into overdrive. Of course. You turned towards him, and you swore your eyes shot daggers at him. He had one of his hands held out towards you, inviting you to take it. “Spare me a dance?”

You already drank enough to consider his offer. You felt everyone’s eyes on you and for a second you didn’t care.

“Sure” you replied in a low voice as you stood up. You heard a gasp from behind you, but you weren’t sure who it came from. You took Jamie’s hand as he led you towards the dancefloor. You heard your friend say “I told you anyone could hear it!” in the background and you smiled.

After you reached the centre of the dancefloor, he spun you around and put one of his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t look him in the eye, but scanned the room for anything else to focus on. The band was playing a slow song and couples started to flock to the floor next to you. You saw Ted asking Rebecca for a dance and even your friend stood up and made her way to the floor with someone. You felt Jamie trying to be sneaky and pulling you closer into him with every sway, but you didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember when you taught me how to dance?” he asked, and you heard the smile in his voice. You did remember.

“Of course” you said, barely audible.

“We moved the couch to make space. And even then, I hit my foot into it.” He spun you around to the rhythm of the music, then pulled you closer than before. And you let him, as you rested your head next to his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment as you closed your eyes. Like you were in your living room again, like he didn’t break your heart.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” he asked abruptly.

“It’s not-“ you hesitated. “It’s not that I can’t forgive you.” You knew you could forgive him in a second, because you loved him. You loved him so much, not a day went by without you missing him.

“What is it then?”

“I just don’t want to be hurt again. I know you just take whatever you want and when you’re bored you just toss it aside.” You fought your tears as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m not that person anymore, love” he said and stopped the two of you, lifting your chin up so your gaze met his. “I promise.”

“Why should I believe you? You promised before you’d never leave me and then you tossed me aside. Made me feel worthless.”

“Fuck” he exhaled, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Can we talk somewhere else? Can’t hear my own thoughts.” You didn’t reply just nodded before he took your hands and led you outside to the same spot you’ve talked earlier. Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes as you followed him, looking down at your joint hands. He stood under the heater before he turned to you and placed both his hands on the side of your face.

“Look. I was a major prick, I know that.” He searched your face as he spoke. “But I promise, I’ve changed. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, I was an asshole. I know that now” he paused.

“But I-“ he started then he stopped, his eyes frantically scanning your face.

Don’t say it.

“I just-“

Don’t say it.

“Fuck, I-“

Just say it!

“I love you.” You let out a relieved sigh as you closed your eyes. He pulled you closer as he planted a kiss on your lips, shy and chaste. Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, and you felt like it was your first kiss ever.

“I love you too” you whispered as warm tears rolled down your cheeks, contrasting the cold air. He kissed you again, this time braver, and he poured his heart and soul into it as he pulled you in with his hand on the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your heart felt like a thousand suns exploded inside it.

“Please let me make it right.”

“Just make sure you won’t make a fool out of me again for saying yes to this, okay?”

“I promise” he said before he kissed you again. “But I have another question.”

“Yes?” you asked and raised your eyebrow.

“Are you really a Roy Kent girl?” You laughed at how real the concern was on his face as he looked at you with his puppy eyes.

“No, actually I’m a huge Jamie Tartt girl, have you heard of him?” you grinned as you caressed his face.

“Huh, sounds like he’s a lucky fella” he smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. Maybe it wasn’t so bad your friend invited you after all.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt h/c #jamie tartt romance #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso cast x reader #fluff

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lieslab · 6 months

Text

A flicker of hope

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Summary: Skz comforts you after an unfortunate incident with your older sibling.

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Word count: 8.6K

A/N: To whoever requested this, I hope you can find some comfort in this. I might have gone a little overboard here and there, but in some of them, it felt necessary. Please take care of yourself <3

TW: Mentions of verbal and physical abuse.

_ _ _

Bang Chan:

You knew things weren’t going to work out in your favor when you revisited your family’s house for the holidays. It was supposed to be a time of joy and a time filled with laughter and cheer. However, when you continued the trek back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, you were blinking back tears.

You tried your best, really you did. You ignored your older brother’s insults throughout dinner. You tried not to let him dampen the light-hearted mood, but as the insults grew worse overnight, it became more and more difficult to ignore them.

His teeth gnashed and he spat venom your way. You shouldn’t have been surprised because this wasn’t the first time it happened. Whenever you headed back home to celebrate the holidays, you silently pleaded for it to be different, but it never was.

This year was different because you had a boyfriend. When Chan invited you to celebrate the holidays back in Australia with his family, you accepted the invitation; but when it came to your family, you didn’t bother asking him. Chan was protective and you knew any insult your older brother would throw your way would backfire. You weren’t great at confrontation and the last thing you wanted was for the holidays to escalate into a full blown fight.

So you didn’t bother asking Chan and you knew it bothered him slightly. When you put on nice clothes to head home, you told Chan your family could be a little much. He laughed at your words and you forced yourself to smile in response, but that smile never reached your eyes.

Everything had been going great until the end of dinner. You began helping your mother put away leftovers and she left to go to the bathroom. Your brother waltzed in after she left and began asking you about your boyfriend. There was no way you were going to tell him who you were dating.

It began to escalate and when you tried to ignore him, he reached out and gripped your wrist. Sharp nails dug into your delicate skin. His teeth gritted and his dark eyes narrowed.

“I bet you’re making that boyfriend of yours up. Have you seen yourself? Who could ever love you?”

You tried to pull away, but his nails dug in tighter. He continued to spew quiet insults while your father watched a football game in the living room. He only stopped when your mother reappeared out of the bathroom. Annoyed that he was interrupted, he rolled his eyes and disappeared back into the living room.

Your mother paid no mind to your brother’s antics and you went back to helping her put leftovers away. It didn’t take you long for you to bid a farewell to your mother and your father before you hurried back home.

The chilly air nipped at your skin along the way. The spot where your brother grabbed you began to pulse as a bruise formed. You gently massaged your wrist trying to ignore your brother’s words, but they haunted you. Self doubt began to seep into your soul.

Hastily, you fumbled to place the key into the door lock. Your hands shook as you gripped the knob after unlocking the door and turning it. With a loud creak, the squeaky hinges squealed, sounding off your presence to your boyfriend.

You shut the door behind you and relocked it. Your eyes darted around the area, but Chan was nowhere in sight. You kept your guard up not wanting to speak to him right now. You wanted to go to the bathroom and attempt to pull yourself together before greeting him.

You were half-way there before Chan found you. His sparkling eyes met yours. A dimpled smile stretched across his face. “Hi, baby! How was your family dinner?”

You pulled your eyes away from him and walked around him as you muttered a response about it being fine. Chan frowned at your behavior. Usually, you were happy to see him, but today you were different. Something seemed to be off.

He reached out and gently grabbed your wrist to stop you. You instantly yelped and jerked your wrist away. Chan’s eyes widened in shock at your response. You tugged your wrist back towards your chest protectively.

The long sleeve black shirt you were wearing covered your wrist. At least, it did until you pulled your arm up against you. Your brother’s grip caused capillaries to burst. Your wrist was dusted with darkened purple fingerprints and red crescents from where your brother dug his nails.

Chan gently pulled your hand back towards him. He moved your wrist around carefully while observing the injuries. His delicacy was enough to make tears appear in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but he already saw them.

“What happened?” He asked. His eyes found yours with a face full of concern. “Did someone grab you?”

“It’s okay. My brother got mad and grabbed me. I’m fine, I promise.”

His face fell. “He grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises and scratches? Baby, nobody should be grabbing you, let alone grabbing you enough to cause this.” He went back to examining your wrist.

“He just gets angry sometimes.”

“Does he always do this?”

“Not always, just when he’s mad.”

Chan pulled you into his arms and you melted at his comforting presence. “Next time you have a family dinner, I’m coming with you if your brother is there.”

“But Chan I-”

“No buts. Nobody is allowed to put hands on my significant other. Got it?”

When you nodded, he let out a sigh of relief. He planted a kiss on the top of your head. His arms squeezed around you tighter. “Nobody touches the love of my life unless it’s to smother them with affection.”

_ _ _

Lee Know:

When Lee Know unlocked the door to your shared apartment and opened the door, he froze at the sound of arguing. Somewhere in the distance, your voice sounded. He shut the door quietly and paused to listen.

“All you do is nag! This isn’t your life! Stop telling me what to do! Oh, really? Real mature. Fuck you too!”

He just came home from dance practice and was soaked with sweat. Before he did anything, he was planning to shower, but the plans changed when he heard your voice. Like a cat, he silently stuck to the shadows and crept closer to your shared bedroom. The door wasn’t fully open, but there you were perched on the edge of the bed.

Your eyebrows were furrowed in anger. An arm was crossed over your chest while the other held the phone up against your ear. Your jaw clenched as you listened to the person on the other end. He stifled a small chuckle as you rolled your eyes.

He didn’t want to bother you, but he wanted to catch your attention to let him know he was there. Using a few fingers, he pushed on the door and opened it a few inches. The sudden soft squeak caused you to glance over.

When your eyes met his, he stared at you curiously. He curled three fingers around his palm and pretended to hold a phone to his ear. Along with it, he raised an eyebrow to ponder the question of who you were talking to. You responded by holding up a finger to let him know you needed a moment.

On the other end of the phone, your older sister was bickering non-stop. Everything in your life seemed to be wrong. No matter what you did, you could never seem to please her. You should have known when you answered the phone, this time wouldn’t be any different.

“I’m hanging up the phone now. No, I’m not going to continue talking to you. You know what? I really don’t care.” Without another word, you hung up the phone and threw the device behind you onto the bed.

“Who was that?” Lee Know asked.

“My older annoying sister. You know when you have siblings, you expect them to be annoying, but it’s completely different when they just keep verbally attacking you. I can’t do this right, I can’t do that right, blah, blah, blah.” You let out a sigh. “It’s just never-ending.”

Lee Know paused and blinked a few times. Being an only child, he never grew up with siblings. With his band, it felt like he only had a singular older brother. Sure he joked with Chan and the two of them bickered and screwed around, but he could never recall a time when he purposely tried to bring Chan’s mood down in order to hurt his feelings.

Even with the younger guys, sure he picked on them and teased them, but he loved them too. He bought them gifts and spent time with them. He cooked them meals on bad days and sure he got on their nerves at times, but none of them had ever bad-mouthed him out of anger or spite.

“Is your older sister always like this?” He walked closer to you and sat down at the edge of the bed. He made sure to leave a few feet between the two of you.

“Yeah. Even when I succeed at something, I’m not praised. It’s just nothing, but verbal disappointment or her going ‘well when I was your age.’ We keep fighting and it’s getting really annoying. I try to get along with her, but it seems to be impossible these days.”

“I know you’re family, but you don’t have to talk to her if it hurts your feelings. You shouldn’t be getting your feelings hurt all the time if you’re family.”

You let out a sigh, “I know I should stop answering her phone calls, but I feel bad.”

“It doesn’t make you an awful person to have boundaries.” He reached out and placed a hand on your thigh. “You won’t get along with every family member sometimes. Sure, you might be born into a family, but that doesn’t mean you have to continue talking to them if they hurt you.”

“I know,” you responded. A frown filled your face as your eyes hit the floor. “I just don’t want to be considered an asshole.”

“You don’t wanna join the asshole club? Why not? I’m in it.”

“Minho!” You playfully slapped his shoulder.

His eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned over towards you. You moved away from him already aware he was planning something. Before you could get off the bed, he pulled you towards him and began to tickle you.

You squirmed and wiggled as his fingertips brushed up against your torso. Laughter fell from your lips. A grin appeared on his face before he moved his arms up to your armpits. Desperate to get away, you jerked to the side, but to no avail.

His fingers continued to terrorize you. You squirmed, but a forearm wrapped around you and pinned you to his lap. His fingers dug further into your side which only caused you to laugh harder.

“O-okay!” You sucked in a sharp breath. “Stop tickling me before I piss myself!”

He pulled away instantly. “See? That’s called creating boundaries. Not too difficult, now is it?”

You shook your head and let out a sigh. Your body was warm from squirming around so much. Your shoulders slumped as you let your head rest along his shoulder. “Way to go, now I need to shower.”

“That was my plan all along. Now you’re sweaty and you’re morally obligated to join me in the shower.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes.

He grinned again. “Welcome to the assholes’ club. We’re really glad to have you join us.”

_ _ _

Changbin:

After dating for months, Changbin was pretty good at understanding the in’s and out’s of dating you. He knew what made you laugh and what made you cry. He knew your favorite things and your dislikes. Best of all, he knew when you were lying to him. Unfortunately, you didn’t know this.

As your eyebags grew and you began to push away the snacks Changbin offered you, he knew something was wrong. He even asked what had you so down, but you brushed him off with a soft smile. You reassured him that everything was okay, you were just in a brief funk. Not wanting to upset you, he took you at your word, but he never stopped keeping an eye on you.

That was last week and at the beginning of this week, you looked drained. Once again, Changbin made sure you were okay, but you brushed his worries aside. “It’s just the cold weather,” you smiled as you said. “I’m always like this around this time of year.” You struggled with seasonal depression, but never to this extent.

His worry for you only grew. Sitting on the edge of your bed, he waited for you with his hands clenched together. His knee bounced up and down while he waited for the shower to turn off. You disappeared into the bathroom and left your phone on vibrate in the middle of the bed.

Changbin had been ignoring it, but over the past few minutes, it vibrated numerous times. He began wondering if the scenario was an emergency. The two of you had each other’s phone passcodes, but you rarely went on each other’s phones. You only used Changbin’s phone to play games occasionally.

Sometimes he’d think he’d be nearly finished up at the studio and ask you to come over. You’d show up and usually find him focused and working on a completely different task after getting distracted. He’d give you his phone and let you play a few games he downloaded specifically for you.

On the other hand, you’d sometimes steal his phone while he was sleeping and take selfies of yourself. Other times, you’d angle the phone in unflattering positions and take photos of him that he’d find later. The two of you found it amusing and it never hurt anyone. He deleted the photos of himself and kept the photos you took of yourself.

When your phone vibrated again, he couldn’t help it anymore. Curiosity mixed with anxiety and the grueling combination led him to typing in your passcode. He scrolled down your notifications and paused when he saw there were multiple unread text messages from your older brother.

Alarmed that there was a family emergency happening, he clicked on the notifications. He expected panic from your older brother, but he didn’t expect text after text filled with insult after insult. He scrolled up on the messages and his eyes widened in shock.

Vile insults and death threats filled the screen. He continued scrolling up, up, up. You never responded to the insults, but you must have been reading them because your brother mentioned you were leaving him on read. Changbin kept scrolling trying to figure out when these text messages first started, but they were endless.

The shock was replaced by an instant anger. He scrolled back down and let his thumbs fly across the screen frantically. They were supposed to be your older sibling. How dare they turn around and treat you like this? What happened to the older sibling being a role model? It didn’t take long before a text message came back.

‘I can’t believe my younger sibling is so weak, they can’t fight their own battles. How pathetic. How does it feel to be dating a loser?’

The response nearly sent Changbin over the edge. The only thing that brought him back to reality was the sound of your voice. He glanced up to find you wrapped in a towel.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Changbin suddenly turned the phone towards you. “How long has this been going on?”

Your heart sank as you recognized the thread of messages your older brother sent you. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “A while,” you managed to respond.

“Have you been reading these?”

Your head lowered in shame as you weakly nodded.

“Why are you putting yourself through this mental torment? You’re beautiful and this,” he held up the phone. “This is pathetic on your brother’s end. Is he really so miserable that he attacks you every single day?”

You shrugged in response. Changbin glanced down at your phone and navigated his way through the phone until he found the block button next to your brother’s contact. After blocking him, he deleted the string of text messages.

“Come here,” he held his arms out towards you.

You padded towards him silently. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. “How dare they insult the love of my life. I can’t believe he’d do something like this.” Changbin scoffed, “this is why you’re the better sibling.”

A faint smile tugged on your lips.

“And for your punishment,” Changbin announced. “You get to let me cuddle you for the next hour and I get to tell you all the things I love about you.”

“But I need to get dressed,” you pointed out.

“I don’t care, it can wait. Now where do I begin? Your beautiful smile? Your infectious laugh? Oh, I love your laugh!” He giggled and leaned back which caused you to fall on top of him. “Get comfortable baby, you’re gonna have a long night.”

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

“Hyunjin, no!”

“But I need it!”

“That’s the fourth thing you’ve picked up in the past two minutes. Put it down!” You glanced back down at the list in your hand.

Hyunjin placed the object down, but instantly picked another one up. “Oh, what about this?”

“No.”

“You’re not even looking!” He whined.

A small smile appeared on your face at your boyfriend’s antics. The two of you were grocery shopping like you did every week. For whatever reason, Hyunjin was antsy today. Like a toddler, he kept touching everything on the shelves and then debating if he wanted to buy the item or not.

You glanced down at the list with furrowed eyebrows before putting your attention back on the grocery cart. You looked back to the list and back to the cart. “Since when are silly straws on the list?”

“Since I saw them in the last aisle. Look! That one is in the shape of glasses and it’s red! Do you have a problem with having fun?”

“They always have a problem with having fun. They’re absolutely no fun. Try growing up with them,” a voice suddenly cut into the conversation.

Your heart dropped as you spun around and came face to face with your older sister. Hyunjin glanced between the two of you confused before he spoke up. “You never told me you had a sister.”

“They’re probably embarrassed because I’m the better sibling. Once you learn about me, being friends with them seems pointless. You’re really attractive. Who are you anyway?”

“Their boyfriend,” Hyunjin suddenly frowned.

You seemed to unconsciously curl up into yourself while your sister talked.

Your sister instantly laughed at Hyunjin’s comment and shook her head. “That’s a good one, but they could never pull someone as good looking as you, so who are you really? A friend? You could do so much better. I mean, are you kidding? They’re practically a pig.”

You dug your nails into the list you were holding. Your fingers turned pale as you clenched the pen. Your sister stared down at you with amusement. “You should entertain us. Go ahead and give us a good oink.”

Hyunjin’s mind blanked. He couldn’t comprehend that anyone, let alone your older sister, was treating you like this. When you didn’t respond, your sister stuck a finger out and poked your stomach. “Have you been gaining weight recently?” She frowned. “It does kinda look like it.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hyunjin suddenly snapped. His face was plastered with an obvious disgust as he stared at your sister. “Are you always like this?” He wrapped his hand around yours. “Just go away and leave us alone.”

Before your sister responded, Hyunjin gently grabbed your wrist with one hand and pushed the cart away with another. He shook his head and began mumbling beneath his breath. “Who the fuck says things like that about someone? What a bitch.”

He glanced over when he realized you weren’t speaking. Humiliation coursed through your body. There was a reason why you never mentioned your older sister. Your eyes hit the floor while you let Hyunjin lead you.

He made sure your sister wasn’t in sight before he stopped the cart and used two fingers to lift your chin up towards him. “Hey, are you alright?”

You blinked trying to get rid of the tears. You pulled your head away from him. Insecurity bit into you as you stepped away. “I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Look at me.”

You paused and slowly glanced up at him. He pushed a piece of stray hair out of your face. “I hope you know none of what she said is true. It sounds like she’s pushing her own insecurities onto you. You’re very beautiful, you know?”

You shook your head and lowered your gaze again, “but she’s right.”

“I drew you,” Hyunjin suddenly blurted out.

You glanced up confused and he paused. A hand went to the back of his neck. “It was going to be a surprise for your birthday next month, but I have a sketchbook filled with drawings of you and your favorite things. I’ve spent countless hours on it trying to get every detail right. I can show you it when we get home.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He shrugged as he smiled. “I love you. Seungmin calls it an obsession, but I prefer the term admiration.”

Your heart warmed as you stared at him. Butterflies began swarming your stomach. The cold frost your sister’s words caused began to melt away. Without a word, Hyunjin pulled the list from your hand.

“Oh, looks like we have to get cinnamon and then we’re finished.” He pulled the list away, glanced around, and reached up to place a container of cinnamon in the cart. He looked back at you and tried to hide a grin. “Whoever makes it to the cash register last buys the silly straws?”

“You’re on.”

“Okay, I’ll take the cart. On the count of three?” He clamped onto the cart and faced down the end of the aisle.

Thankfully, it was void of people.

“You’re on.”

“Okay, one.”

“Tw-” Before you could finish, Hyunjin took off with the cart.

Your jaw dropped in shock and the last thing you saw was a dramatic turn of the cart around the corner with Hyunjin’s hair flapping in the breeze; his high-pitched gleeful giggle echoing in your ears.

_ _ _

Han:

Han hummed the new song lyrics he came up with over and over again. He already had an idea for the beat and he had been texting Chan about it until he stepped inside your shared apartment. The unfamiliar car in the driveway made him a little anxious.

You hadn’t mentioned having any friends over, so perhaps it was a last minute thing. Before grabbing his keys, he tried the door and to his surprise, it swung open with ease. Usually, you lock the door after someone comes in due to safety reasons. You must have forgotten to do it today.

Han pushed the door shut, turned the lock behind him, and placed the tip of one sneaker along the back heel of the other. He was about to slip out of the shoe when the loud sound of skin hitting skin caused his head to jerk up. His eyes darted around the area searching for you, but you weren’t around.

Heart heavy with worry, he left his shoes on and headed towards the sound. There was a grunt and another sound of skin hitting skin. Han rushed towards the kitchen to figure out the cause faster. He called out your name on the way, but there wasn’t a response.

Walking into the entryway, he paused as he saw your older brother towering over you. You were on the floor with a hand pressed up against your cheek. Your brother’s lips moved, but Han didn’t know what he was saying to you. He couldn’t hear it over the sound of his ears ringing.

“What the fuck do you think your doing?” He growled. His eyes narrowed into deadly slits when his eyes landed upon your brother’s.

“Teaching them a goddamn lesson!” Your brother snapped back.

“Get out of our fucking apartment before I call the cops for assault!”

He rolled his eyes and began to walk away from you, but not before he blew a mouthful of spit down at you. On the ground, you flinched as warm saliva landed on the side of your cheek. You used your sleeve to wipe it away.

Seeing red, Han lunged towards your brother. He grabbed the back of his shirt and jerked him towards the living room. Your brother stumbled along as Han dragged him. Without a word, Han jerked the front door open, popped the screen door, and shoved your brother outside.

“And don’t come back or else!” He yelled before slamming the front door shut and locking it.

In the kitchen, you were trying to recover from the beating your older brother gave you. When you heard a knock at the door, you thought it might have been Han home early. Sometimes he forgot his house keys. When you opened up the door, you tried to shut it, but it was too late as your brother forced himself inside the house.

Once Han came back to the kitchen, he wasted no time grabbing the ice pack from the freezer. He fell to his knees beside you and gently pressed the soothing ice against your throbbing cheek. “Do I even want to know why your brother was in our apartment and beating you up?”

“Because he’s a dick,” you mumbled in response. “He thinks I’m the reason his girlfriend broke up with him even though I’ve never talked to her before. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You can say that again. Are you okay?” Concern flooded Han’s face. “Do we need to take you to urgent care or something?” His hand came up to cup the side of your face. His thumb gently brushed across your cheek.

“I’ll be okay, it’s just a few bruises.”

Han nodded, stood up, and carefully helped you to your feet. His arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Come on, my treat. We can eat in tonight and watch that new anime you were telling me about yesterday.”

“Really?”

“I think it’s the least I can do for you right now.” He led you over to the couch. “If anything starts hurting more, let me know. I’ll get you to urgent care or a clinic or something.” He plopped down on the couch and pulled you into his arms.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll do anything for you, baby.”

_ _ _

Felix:

Felix knew your older sister could be a pain in the ass. You warned him beforehand, but he took your words with a grain of salt because surely she couldn’t be that bad, right? When he walked into your family’s house and you introduced her, he thought you might have been pulling his leg.

Your older sister was kind and soft-spoken. Her eyes sparkled beneath the warm light in the dining room. She helped serve dinner and struck up a conversation with Felix. You watched the two of them interact out of the corner of your eye. Your stomach churned with jealousy as your sister laughed and stuck out her hand and placed it on Felix’s shoulder.

Felix could be a little naive at times and usually it didn’t bother you, but today you weren’t sure how you could get through family dinner without beheading your sister. You tried to ignore it, but as the evening went on, your sister continued hanging around your boyfriend. She’d tell jokes and get him to laugh. Her wandering hands would find a way to touch his body.

Felix didn’t mind her touch. After all, he liked touching people too and she was your sister. You admitted you liked physical touch, so maybe your sister did too. When it felt like her touch lingered for too long, Felix would pull away. He’d adjust his position and slip away from her.

When your sister sat on the other side of Felix at the dinner table, you tried not to let it bother you. You forced yourself to cut the steak in front of you and swallow the overcooked meat your mother made. However, when you saw your sister’s hand touch Felix’s thigh from the corner of your eye, you dropped your knife.

The loud clatter caused your family members to look up. Felix glanced over at you concerned. You mumbled an apology and began cutting back into the steak. Beside you, Felix shifted and scooted away from your sister to look over at you. It didn’t take him long to realize you were upset.

“Not a surprise they dropped their knife, they’ve always been a klutz. Like that time they fell at their 13th birthday party or the time they tripped over their own feet and broke their elbow. Speaking of birthdays,” your sister perked up, “remember that time when you turned sixteen and nobody showed up?” She let out a laugh.

You gritted your teeth and cut back into your steak trying to ignore her. Your mother chuckled at the memory. “I remember that year, you went all out and planned everything and nobody showed up. You poor thing,” she shook her head. “You never planned another birthday party after that.”

“Nobody showed up to your birthday party?” Felix frowned. “Why not?”

“Because they’re an obvious loser,” your sister commented. “Such a loser that they don’t even celebrate their birthday anymore, right?” Your sister glanced over at you. Amusement sat on her face.

You weakly nodded your head.

Felix’s face fell, “is that why you’ve always refused to tell me your birthday?”

Your sister snorted. Felix raised an eyebrow and looked over at her. “What? Why is that so funny?”

“They were a mistake anyway. Our mom even says so, right Mom?”

Your mother’s cheeks turned a darkened red across the table. She meekly nodded her head. “I wouldn’t say it was a mistake, but it was an unplanned pregnancy.”

“A one night stand gone wrong. Nobody even knows who their real father is. What a shame,” your sister’s voice was filled with sarcasm.

Felix sat taking the conversation in without a word. Your eyes were burning holes into the white table cloth. You suddenly pushed yourself away from the table. “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta use the restroom.”

As you left, you caught a glimpse of your sister slinging her arm around Felix’s neck and shoving herself closer to him. You disappeared inside the bathroom and locked the door behind you. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with glassy eyes. You blinked rapidly and fanned your face trying to keep the tears away.

When you opened the bathroom door a few moments later, Felix was right there staring at you. You raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t respond. He just held an empty hand out to you. You hesitated before taking it and let him lead you back towards the kitchen.

You were barely listening as Felix explained he wasn’t feeling well and needed to head home because he didn’t feel great. Your sister seemed disappointed, but your mother understood. The two of you left your half-eaten food behind as Felix led you out of the house.

Once you were outside, he pulled you away from it. “I’m sorry,” the words flew out of his mouth. “I’m sorry you saw your sister do those things to me and I didn’t stop it. I didn’t want to cause a huge scene.”

“It’s okay,” you responded.

He shook his head, “no it’s not. It’s not okay and it shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t want to cause issues, but now I see that I should have. Are you really okay?” He pulled you closer by your waist and looked at you with concern.

“I’m fine,” you reiterated.

“Can I know when your real birthday is?” He asked curiously.

You hesitated, but Felix waited for your response patiently. He looked at you like a lost puppy dog. It’s not like you could keep it hidden anymore anyway. He could always easily ask one of your family members.

“It’s tomorrow actually.”

“Tomorrow?” His eyes widened. “Oh my god, it’s nearly seven in the evening. That’s not enough time to plan!”

“I don’t plan on celebrating it.”

“But I want to! It’ll be fun! We can make a cake and invite some of our friends and we can ha-”

You shook your head, “it’s just another year older, Felix. There’s not really anything to celebrate. So I survived another year, big whoop.”

“Please,” he pushed his lips into a pout. “Please let me celebrate your birthday and create a party you’ve never had before. I’ll make it really fun for you, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “There’s not really a point to cel-”

“You lived a full three-hundred and sixty-five days. You survived fifty-two weeks and I think that’s pretty amazing. You made it to this point, so please.” He pushed his face closer to yours. “Please let me celebrate it with you.”

“You’re not going to invite my mom and sister, are you?”

“No fucking way!” Felix’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Not after the way they treated you tonight! They can kiss their hypothetical pieces of chocolate cake good-bye.”

You snorted at his words.

“Please?” He tried again. “If you hate it, you never have to do it again, I promise. I just want to throw a celebration as a thank you for getting this far. I think your sixteen year old self deserves the birthday party you never got.”

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed.

Before you knew what was happening, Felix grabbed your hand and began tugging you away from the house. “Come on! Come on! The store closes soon and I still have so many things to get! I think I might have to call for backup.”

_ _ _

Seungmin:

“Do we ever get anything in the mail besides junk?” Seungmin grumbled as he flipped through the mail.

He kept flipping until he found a letter addressed to you. Looking at the return address, he called your name. It didn’t take you long to appear from the kitchen with an apron tied around your waist. Seungmin handed the letter out to you. “Here, this came from your brother.”

“Really?”

“I thought you didn’t talk to your brother.”

“I haven’t for a while.”

“Maybe it’s important,” Seungmin shrugged before leaving you alone with the letter.

With growing curiosity, you ripped the envelope open and pulled out the handwritten letter. Your eyes scanned the messy handwriting. Words were scribbled and letters were hastily completed. The further you read, the more you began to frown.

You and your older brother used to be close until your parents divorced. The separation between them caused hell between every family member. Bitter resentment and betrayal swept through your house. You and your brother liked a different parent more than the other. It often led to fights and the two of you blaming the other parent and sometimes each other for the messy divorce.

When you left home, you cut contact completely with your older brother, so you weren’t sure how he managed to find your address. As you scanned the letter, annoyance began to wash over you. You were hoping for an apology. Deep down, you missed the relationship the two of you once shared, but now you could see that it was pointless.

The letter continued to blame you for your parents' divorce and it was riddled with insults. In it, your brother mentioned he fell on hard times and he was blaming you. The divorce was years ago, so you weren’t sure how that led to your brother’s downfall weighing on your shoulders, but apparently it was.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re struggling too. I hope you realize how much of an asshole you are. Honestly, the world would be better if you weren’t in it.”

With gritted teeth, you crumpled up the paper into a ball. You marched out to the kitchen and tossed the ball of hatred into the trash can. Seungmin glanced over at you from the open refrigerator. He raised an eyebrow as he looked you up and down.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Just peachy,” sarcasm laced your voice. You turned on your heel, ripped off your apron, threw it on the counter, and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m going to take a walk to clear my head, I’ll be back later.” You left the house without another word.

Seungmin stayed quiet and wondered what you were so upset about. He didn’t know exactly what happened between you and your older brother that caused you to avoid him, but could it really be that bad? He stuck around the kitchen for a few extra minutes making sure the coast was clear before he retrieved the letter from the trash.

Pulling the wrinkled words back open, his eyes began to read. The further he read, the more his heart ached. No wonder you left upset. When he was finished, he crinkled the letter back up and threw it in the trash again. He bit down on his lip debating on how to make you feel better.

If he consoled you, then you’d know he read the letter. The last thing he wanted to do was further upset you. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. You were awkward when it came to verbal affection. You told Seungmin receiving compliments made you feel awkward. You never knew what the proper response to a compliment was and it made you feel embarrassed.

After pacing around the kitchen, an idea finally came to Seungmin. He rushed off to the bedroom to get started on it. In the process, he shot you a text that he was heading to the grocery store and he’d be home later.

In your annoyance and frustration, you ran through the letter multiple times in your head as you rethought about it. There was no need for your brother to go out of his way to make you miserable. Just because he was in a shitty mood, it didn’t mean you wanted to be in one too.

You never looked at your cell phone. By the time you got back home, you had been on a walk for nearly two hours. You circled town multiple times trying to blow off steam. You didn’t even realize the sun was nearly down until you walked by someone who complimented the sunset to her friend.

A sigh escaped you as you headed back inside. You began searching for Seungmin and paused when you found him holding a bouquet of flowers and a letter in one hand. Your name was written in fancy font across the front in your favorite color. Your eyes were pulled back over to the flowers. You realized they were your favorite kind.

“What are you doing?”

“That letter seemed to upset you, so I made you your very own letter that you can read in your own time. Plus, I got you these flowers. They’re your favorite, right?”

You nodded and stepped towards him. He handed you the flowers and you took them with a smile on your face. You grabbed the letter from him and glanced at it. “Can I read this now?”

“Only if you want to.”

You wasted no time unraveling the envelope and pulling out the inside. A letter sat in Seungmin’s handwriting. In fancy font at the top, he titled the letter:

All the things I love about you.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Your smile grew wider across your face. “This is really cute.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. You were hurt and I wanted to make you happy. I love you, you know?”

“I know.”

“Wow, not even an ‘I love you too?’” Seungmin playfully scoffed.

“I’m getting there!”

“Speed it up! Is my love disposable to you? In this case, I’ll take the flowers back and I’ll take back the letter. I’ll even take back the pizza I ordered five minutes ago. I’ll tell the delivery driver to keep it.”

“No, no, no! I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I love the flowers and the letter and the pizza and I-”

“You love pizza more than me, don’t you?”

“Hey, I never said that!”

“You’re putting me at the last of the list.”

“I love you!” You blurted out. “I love you so much! I’d die without you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

As you scowled, he let out a laugh.

_ _ _

I.N:

“I’ll be right here waiting for you to come back,” I.N promised you.

“I’ll be really quick, I swear. I’ll go so fast, you’ll barely know I was gone!”

I.N let out a laugh as he watched you disappear into the maze of bookshelves at your local bookstore. It was Saturday and the two of you were out on a walk. When you realized you were near the local bookstore, you asked if you could stop by just to browse. However, your browsing had turned into book buying.

You ended up with three books in your hands and I.N offered to carry them while you were on the way to find a fourth. You loved books dearly. Back at your apartment, you had a few bookshelves full of books. You loved the adventure and escapism that words provided you.

I.N stopped to browse a section of books, but you were itching to go look at your favorite genre. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet so much that I.N let you go on ahead. You apologized, but he insisted. This was your element and you deserved to enjoy it.

So when you went darting in the other direction, I.N tucked your books beneath his arm. With his empty hand, he pulled out a book on the shelf and flipped it around to read the summary. Hearing a throat clear behind him, he spun around to come face to face with your older sister.

“Hi,” he politely smiled at her.

“Hi. What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were the book type?”

“I’m here with your sibling actually. They ran off to go find another book,” he chuckled remembering how excited you were when you ran off.

Your sister rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe the two of you are still dating. Don’t you want to find someone better? They’re such a huge dork and live with their head in the clouds. Wouldn’t you want to be with someone more logical?”

“Not really,” I.N shifted the weight of your books suddenly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “I don’t mind it at all. It makes them really happy.”

Without warning, your sister began to complain about you. I.N watched her with a blank look on his face. He couldn’t believe she was talking about you this way. You hadn’t done anything to deserve to be talked about like this. What was wrong with enjoying escapism? He did the exact same thing with music.

As your sister continued, I.N’s eyes darted around the nearby shelves. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wanted to leave this conversation as quickly as possible. He couldn’t imagine talking to his younger brother’s significant other in this manner.

“And if you want me to talk to them for you, I can,” your sister announced. “If you’re looking for a reason to break up with them, I can provide you with multiple reasons. Aren’t you famous? There’s plenty of fish in the sea. You should be finding someone that matches your vibe, not someone who spends their time falling in love with fictional characters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I.N mumbled. He didn’t plan on it, but he wanted a way to leave the conversation. “I should go find them and get going.”

“I’m sure you should,” your sister’s sarcasm dripped out like venom. “If you need something, go ahead and call me. Do you need my number? I can gi-”

“If I need it, I’ll get it from your sibling,” I.N suddenly snapped, annoyed by her arrogance.

Your sister nodded and disappeared around the corner. I.N let out a sigh of relief. He was happy that she was finally gone. He mumbled something beneath his breath and slid the book he had back on the shelf. He kept hold of the books you were planning on getting.

On the other side of the shelf, you bit down on your lip trying not to cry. You were coming back with your book and when you spotted your sister with I.N, you ducked behind the next shelf over. You heard the full conversation and it suddenly felt like someone squeezed your heart until it burst.

You glanced down at the book in your hand. All the excitement bubbling up inside of you had fizzled away. With your head down, you disappeared back to the other side of the store and placed the book back on the shelf.

It took you a few extra minutes before you gathered the courage to reapproach I.N.

When he saw you, he smiled. “Hey, there you are! I was just about to come find you.” He glanced down at your hands expecting a book, but he frowned not seeing one. “Where’s the book you were talking about?”

“They didn’t have it,” your voice came out flat. You reached over and took your books from his hands.

“Oh. Well, we can talk to an employee. I’m sure someone could order it for you and then we can pick it up when it comes in.”

You shook your head, “that’s okay. I’m sure I’ll come across it eventually.”

You walked away from the shelf and I.N followed you. When you reached up with one of your books and began putting it back on the shelf, I.N’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing?”

“I shouldn’t be spending so much money on books.”

“But you love them,” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You love buying new books. Plus, you just recently got a pay raise at work, remember?”

“I should be saving money for a rainy day.” You walked further down the shelves and placed the remaining two books back in their slots.

I.N studied you confused at your sudden change of mood. You were so happy to come to the bookstore, you nearly dragged him inside grinning and now you looked disappointed and almost sad. He tried not to let your sudden mood change bother him too much.

“What about the cafe? You always visit the cafe when you come here. I’ll pay for your coff-”

“I’m not feeling it anymore,” you commented.

“Oh. Do you want to go then?”

You nodded your head and I.N slipped his hand through yours. He gripped it tight trying to figure out what the reason was for your sudden change. He let you lead them out of the bookstore and down the sidewalk. A few storefronts away, it finally hit him.

There was only one reason why your mood must have completely taken a one-eighty change. Of course, you must have heard the conversation he had with your sister. Why didn’t he realize that sooner? He mentally slapped himself still clutching your hand.

You turned around when you realized he wasn’t moving from his spot. “Are you okay?” You asked, suddenly concerned.

“Huh? Oh um yeah. Can you stay right here for a moment?” He glanced down at you nervously. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom, so I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and I.N took back off towards the bookstore. He cursed himself the whole way there. Once he entered, he went back to the shelves the two of you visited and grabbed the books you once had. When he was finished, he headed over to your favorite section to find the book you were rambling about when you walked inside.

His heart dropped when he realized the bookstore wasn’t missing it like you said. They didn’t have a handful of copies on display, they had nearly half a shelf. He let out a sigh and grabbed one.

Heading to the register, he paid for the books, still upset with himself. You probably heard him mention he’d keep in mind there might be someone better than you. He suddenly felt sick with himself. No wonder you were so quiet, you probably thought he was going to break up with you.

When he finished at the counter, he headed over to the attached cafe. He bought your favorite drink and a cookie to make up for it along with a drink and cookie for himself. By the time he walked back outside, you were nervously fiddling with your hands up against the outside of the bookstore.

When you heard him call your name, you looked up and froze. He hurried towards you out of breath with a plastic bag on one arm, a drink in each hand, and a small bag pinched between his thumb and a cup.

“What are you doing?” You asked confused.

He sucked in a sharp breath, “I figured out you heard the conversation between your sister and me. I hope you know,” he took in another breath, “I wasn’t agreeing with what she was saying. I don’t want anyone besides you, but I didn’t want to be rude.”

He handed the cup towards you. You took it with a small smile. You quietly thanked him as you took a sip of the drink.

“And I got you your books.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. “Why would you do that? They’re brand new! Do you know how much books cost? Two of those were hardcovers!”

“I don’t care. You wanted them, so I got them for you. We can go home and put them directly on your bookshelf. I know they’ll fit on the top open shelf perfectly.”

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I like seeing your face light up and when you're happy, it makes me happy too. I love you a lot and I’ll always love you.”

You thought your heart was going to burst. His smile widened and revealed his dimples. You couldn’t help, but smile back.

“And when we get home, can I read the one book you got? I glanced at the summary and it looks really good. We can cuddle up in bed and read if you want to.”

“I’d love to do that with you.”

“Oh! And I got you a cookie!” He scrambled to open the bag. “You mentioned cookies can cure even the worst kinds of sadness a few weeks ago.”

“You remembered that?” A fond look grew across your face.

“Of course. I’ll always remember the smallest things when it comes to you.”

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

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