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#the stranger things store was such a treat :)

velovw · 3 days

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How would OW characters love you?

(Ft. Reaper, Genji, Ramattra, Hanzo, Venture and Cassidy)

A/N: It's been quite a while, but I'm happy to share a little thing I've written.

Reaper

At first, Gabriel would refuse the idea of being in love. There was no way the thing he had become was deserving of love - nor did you deserve to be with anything like him. The confession would probably come from you, or the feelings you two have for each other would simply be locked away and forgotten with time. Unsure touches, hesitancy in communication would plague your relationship early on, leading to frustrating fights and time spent apart.

Gabriel had spent so long being Reaper, that he had forgotten how to treat another gently, softly. Years of being one of Talon’s obedient and ruthless weapon left him scarred, almost a husk of the man he one day was. Patience, lots of it, would be needed to build a healthy relationship with him. With time, he would slowly start to mimic the actions you did to him - learning from you on how to love and be loved - this could lead to Gabriel learning to love you just the way you want him to.

Not big on romantic gestures, and doesn’t like PDA. He has an underlying fear that if anyone were to find about his weak spot for you, it would mean harm your way.

Genji

A cupid 's arrow.

It would not take him long to recognize the emotions he was experiencing, as the excitement and exhilaration of a new love were familiar to him due to his youth. The anxiety and giddy feelings were difficult to overlook or ignore. He would not hesitate to express his feelings, as he was quick at noticing if someone reciprocated his affections based on their reactions to his affections. He was accustomed to this aspect of a relationship and would confidently touch and remain close to the person he was interested in whenever possible.

Due to his past, Genji would have an underlying anxiety about performing well as a partner. He was good at sweet talk, enough to make your heart flutter - but when it came down to serious conversations and fights, he would almost shut down. In the past, whenever these things happened, he would simply dump his past partners and move on - but he didn’t want to do that now. So he would be awkward, asking you what he could do to amend the wrongs and fix the situation. He would heavily depend on you to guide him in that way.

Wouldn’t be able to hide your relationship, almost always bringing you up in a conversation. Excitedly calling you his partner.

Ramattra

Love? How futile.

He had no time for such weak emotions, no time to spend worrying over your safety when you were a human - the kind he hated with his very being. No. Ramattra only spent his attention and utmost care towards the cause he believed in.

Or that's what he desperately wanted to believe.

But the amount of stress his system felt when he saw you in the middle of the battlefield, how he was reluctant to end your life right where you stood, proved it all to him that he was *wrong*. Ramattra would take what felt like a lifetime to confess, seeing you sick and injured pushed him to it - the reminder of your mortality severely affecting him. Would try to do everything at once one day, showcasing his innocent and lack of experience in *love*.

Every word, every moment would be recorded through his optics and stored forever in his hard-drive. Ramattra’s touches sometimes felt… ghostly. As if he was afraid of breaking you. But he was always sure to impose his threatening aura around strangers.

A silent reminder of your importance.

Hanzo

Throughout the most part of Hanzo's life, there were only two things he felt the most. The bitter regret and the pain of tomorrow. Losing everything came at a great cost and it shined clearly when you met Hanzo for the first time, when you tried to befriend him - the look in his eyes. Hanzo would avoid you emotionally once he feels… different. Part of him knows what he feels but another one denies it with all of his strength. Not for pride, simply because he's afraid of losing once again.

A wall to talk to. His indifference at the start would drive you crazy, driving you away until he finally realizes how much more empty he feels with your absence. Even so, does a small act of servitude by giving you your favorite food - a small attempt to see if you still care for him. Just enough so he can *try* and allow himself to feel the gentle feeling of love.

Small smiles your way, brushing your hand with his while passing by. All small but mean so, so much for Hanzo. There is no shyness, just gentleness, and no fear of showcasing such feelings in front of others.

Venture

Spending most of their life researching and excavating did really not leave any space for romance. Venture would be quick to accept the feeling, the rush of adrenaline and giddy feeling quickly taking over their mind as they realized they liked you. It would be obvious to anyone around them. The way their eyes would be searching for you in the room, quickly asking someone if they've seen you and when they do finally see you - the biggest smile they can muster.

Your name would be mentioned by them every chance they get.

A confession would take mere days, and if you weren't totally sure about them - they'd at least hope you'd let them take you out on dates so you can get to know each other better. Small trinkets of their affection would be given to you, crystals and rocks being the main source of it, secretly hoping you'd try and find the meaning of them.

Their only flaw is being overly excited about the feeling, sometimes overly romanticizing you and getting disappointed when you don't reach their standards.

Cassidy

Smooth.

Cassidy would recognize the blush that would dust his cheeks when you were around, how he seemed to want to impress and sweet talk you. That would be his way of gaining your favor slowly, calling you sweet nicknames and trying to charm you with his words. A small brush of his shoulders on yours, opening doors for you and tipping his hat when he passes by - all small acts that are meant to sweep you off of your feet.

A relationship would bloom slowly, as he would like to ride out the early fluttering feeling of love. Going through all the small showcases such as holding your hand, gifting you something meaningful before taking you out on a date and asking you two to finally be oficial. To everyone else around you, it was clear that Cassidy was courting you - and no one else dared to attempt anything. Whispers of his past holding them back on doing so.

Cassidy’s flaw would be being too warm or too cold. Either giving you hurtful but helpful advice, or comforting and unhelpful ones. It would solely depend on his mood, but you can always tell when he doesn't really wanna make decisions. Sometimes he just wants to exist, to let himself breath without any worries.

#overwatch x reader #genji shimada #genji x reader #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader #ramattra fanfiction #ramattra x reader #venture x reader #cassidy x reader #cole cassidy #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes x reader #overwatch fanfiction

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writersdrug · 1 month

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Simon Riley x DogSitter! Reader

Next ->

After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.

A/n no warnings, just reader being ditsy. Based her personality off of Daphne Moon from "Frasier." Enjoy! (PS next chapter of IDNY and the solo fic for Ghost hurt/comfort are on the way!)

Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.

Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.

But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.

The mission had gone well so far; everyone was booking it to exfil, hardly worrying about the few enemies left who could barely manage to fire their guns. Simon and Riley were sprinting to the heli, Simon already imagining how he was going to take a fat nap when he got back to base, when he heard it - amidst the sparce gunshots, Riley's pained yelp.

Simon had never shot someone so fast, but before he knew it, there was a bullet planted between the enemy soldier's eyes. Simon rushed to scoop Riley into his arms as she whined and howled - he loaded her onto the helicopter with Soap's help, hands shaking as he looked for the damage. Her right hind leg was bleeding, and every time he tried to look at it, she snapped her teeth in his direction with a shrill yap.

Simon couldn't hear Price as he promised to get her into surgery ASAP. He didn't register Gaz wrapping gauze around her leg as he carried her off the heli and into the medbay. He couldn't hear Johnny trying to comfort him as they stood in the hall, waiting for her to come out of the operating room so Simon could finally see her again. The only thing he could comprehend was her cries, her blood, and the fact that he was responsible for all this.

It wasn't a lethal injury, he knew that. But he assumed, and the vet later confirmed that she wouldn't be fit to continue working. And that terrified him. He had to continue working - what would happen to her? He wouldn't put her up for adoption, in fact, he'd nearly bit the head off the poor soldier who had suggested the idea. She'd be coming home with him, once she had fully healed, but then what? How would he take care of her when he had to go on missions?

He couldn't. Much to his chagrin, and as much as he hated the thought of her being under anyone else's responsibility, he was forced to hire a pet-sitter. He begrudgingly posted ads online, and even put his request up at the local doggie-daycare, despite having never sent Riley there. It didn't take long after bringing Riley home before people began to answer his ad, and he plucked a good handful of them to interview over the weekend.

So, there he was - sitting in the breakfast nook with Riley at his feet, silently judging each interviewee that had walked into his home. He was quite disappointed in the selection.

Simon had already decided 'no' to nearly every dog sitter that had answered his ad. He sat across from them as they described their skills and achievements, bored out of his mind as they treated the interview like it was a college application. He didn't want an egotistical, decorated twat caring for his dog... if Riley didn't care about this bloke being voted 'dog-walker of the month' by the doggie daycare, why should he?

He knew it came down to much more than that - but he was going by Riley's reaction, too. And so far, she was uninterested in all seven that he had interviewed thay day. She sat by Simon's feet, bum leg out and eyes zoning out on the stranger's shoes as they droned on. No one had actually paid much attention to her, instead focusing on impressing Simon.

He hated to admit it, but a boarding house for dogs might be the best option.

He had just scratched the second to last name off of his list of interviewees, pouring himself a cup of coffee at 4 pm, when a knock rapped at his door. He sighed, looking down at Riley; she was laying on her side, huffing at the fact that the random visits from random people was still going on.

"One more, eh?" Simon said, reaching down to ruffle her ears. She groaned through her nostrils in annoyance as he straightened out and walked towards the door.

He reluctantly opened it to find you standing there.

You, with nothing but your phone and keys, wearing a t shirt, oversized plaid, leggings, and sneakers. No folder full of resumes and reviews, no bone-shaped doggie bag holders... the only other thing you had was an apologetic look on your face.

"Hi." You said warily.

"Evenin'." Simon responded, leaning against the door.

You sighed. "I should let you know- well, aren't I being rude..." You rolled your eyes at yourself and stuck your hand out at him. You stated your name with a sheepish smile.

He stared at your hand for a second, before shaking it with his own. "Simon."

The way your eyes lingered on his hand after he had gripped it so firmly didn't go unnoticed by him - but you quickly regained focus. "Well - before you waste your time on me, I should explain: I didn't read the posting correctly, and I thought this was a house-sitting gig. Only just noticed when I checked the address before I left... figured I'd still stop by since I told you I would."

You were looking at the ground out of embarrassment at this point. Simon's brow furrowed as he observed you. House-sitting isn't horrendously different from pet-sitting... he thought. "Well-"

"But I love dogs!" You quickly interjected. "Had three of them growing up, two bullies and a golden! Loves of my life, they are- never a day I didn't walk them. Well, besides that one week for Becca's wedding- and when my Nan had that nasty virus and I had to check up... on her..."

Simon's raised brow must have made you realize the tangent you had embarked on, because you snapped your mouth shut. You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet.

Simon was the tiniest bit entertained. "And how's your Nan now?" He asked.

"Oh, much better." You said with a smile. "'Course, that was four years ago... she- she's alive, I mean! God, that sounded morbid, didn't it?"

Simon huffed out a laugh, before he stepped to the side and nodded his head towards the inside. "C'mon in - you came out this way, might as well chat. Could maybe use a house-sitter, too."

You muttered a quick 'thanks' and stepped inside, immediately taking note of how pristine and bare the home was. No decorations, only dark grey furniture with darker accents... the closest thing to decor was probably the mauve throw blanket over the back of the sofa.

"You like cleaning?" You speculated, following Simon into the kitchen.

"Not home enough to get it dirty." He replied nonchalantly, seating himself at the breakfast nook. He took a sip from his mug as he shoved a hand in his sweatshirt pocket. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks." You shook your head politely. "Not now, anyways. I'll be up all-"

You cut your reasoning short when you spotted Riley, sitting still by Simon's feet. "Oh, hello!" You chirped, lowering yourself down to your knees and reaching your knuckles towards her, palm-up. "You must be Riley!"

She hesitated, then sniffed your knuckles, huffed, sniffed again, and thumped her tail slowly. She tilted her head back and looked at Simon with a questioning glance.

He chuckled, rubbing between her ears. He watched as you fished a small baggie from your pocket, taking out one of the lumpy, golden balls from the contents. You held it up for Simon to see.

"Peanut butter bacon cookie." You said, and Riley sniffed the air between her and the treat. "No sugars, no preservatives. Picked some up from the daycare on the way here."

Simon nodded once. "You can give-"

Before he could finish, Riley flawlessly snatched the cookie from between your fingers, downing it in a few bites. She licked her lips and stared at you as you laughed.

"Where are your manners?!" You said, poking her side. She followed your finger with her nose, searching for another treat.

You looked back at Simon. "I hope that was alright."

Simon shrugged, though he silently scolded Riley for accepting something from a stranger so quickly. "She'll survive."

----------

Over the next hour - which was twice as long as he had entertained anyone that day - Simon listened to you ramble about your qualifications. Except, you didn't mention reviews, awards, or self achievements. You talked about your family dogs (the two pitbulls, Rowena and Charlemagne, and the golden retriever, Donald). You described the time you took care of your neighbor's schnauzer and home when she had to make a last minute trip to Berlin for two weeks. You talked about the best trails for dogs based on the texture of the ground and the environment (the younger dogs liked Swan's trail more, due to the thicker, woody area; older ones seemed to like Ellington park, where it was more of a suburban area with smoother paths). You rattled on about how that damn husky in the apartment across from you is always yelling, and how you really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.

Simon listened to every word you said. You seemed to know more than just how to walk a dog - it was almost as if you knew their language. You didn't just live with them, you cared about their personalities and preferences. He had a subconscious appreciation for how you regarded them - despite trying to keep up the act thay he was unhappy about needing a dog-sitter, he liked you.

And clearly, so did Riley. She was laying at Simon's feet, completely relaxed, eyes flitting between you and your hand movements as you spoke. You would occasionally look down to her, as if you were letting her know that she was also a part of the conversation, and she would lift her head ever so slightly and stare back - like she was listening.

"- and she decided that the day before my biochemistry exam, she was going to take her frustration out on my notes! Papers everywhere, even my sticky notes were torn up! You'd think she had a personal vendetta against me, wouldn't you?" You looked down at Riley for affirmation, and she looked back at you and slapped her tail against the floor a few times.

Simon chuckled, then sighed. "Well- I think you're more than qualified for this, and I think she likes you." He nudged Riley with his foot, who looked at him and huffed.

Your eyes widened. "Does that mean I got the job?"

He nodded. "Don't know when I'll be deployed next, but it should be soon. I'll send you an email with Riley's routine, and if you want to make some extra cash, I'll include some things you can do around the house."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" You exclaimed. You leaned down to Riley, who reached her head out and sniffed the air between your faces. "Ya hear that girl? You're stuck with me!"

Simon chuckled and stood up, followed by you and Riley. "You can expect to hear from me by Tuesday. I'll give you the spare key the morning I head out."

You followed him out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Riley pushed past you to stay close to Simon's side.

"That's fine. My schedule's flexible, I don't do much besides babysit. Also, let me know her preferences, like where she likes to walk, treats, toys, things like that."

Simon opened the door for you and you stepped outside, turning to face him on the landing. "Also - glad you didn't go with Mitchell. Bloke's a fraud."

Simon's brow raised as he leaned against the door. "S'cuse me?"

"Daniel Mitchell. Saw him on your piece of paper there." You replied, making Simon look down at the crumpled list of interviewees in his hand. "He was NOT dog-walker of the month - in fact, he was turned away when he applied to work at the daycare. He treated the dogs like they were cats, for gods sake! Said they don't actually need to be walked n' you can just let them in the backyard for a few minutes. He's out of his head!"

You sighed, tugging your keys out of your flannel pocket. "Anyways, I should get going. I'll look out for your email!" You turned and departed down the walkway, not sparing Simon a second glance as you left him in the doorway. "See you soon!"

He watched you climb into your small car, returning the wave you gave him before you pulled out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. Simon felt an odd stillness in his home - you had came and went like a storm, and the only evidence that you were ever here was the small baggie of peanut butter and bacon cookies on the kitchen table. He sighed, closing his front door and looking down at Riley.

"She's either gonna be the best, or the worst." He said, running a hand down his face.

Riley let out a groan, which turned into a high-pitched growl. She shifted her weight back and forth on each foot anxiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Want t' go see Johnny?" He asked. She barked at the familiar name, running to where her leash hung in the closet.

He supposed it was about time. He hadn't seen his team since she was sent home. He knew she was probably aching to see someone other than him right now, and he was honestly going a little stir crazy himself, after spending so much time in the normal, civilian world.

He moved next to her, grabbing the leash and snapping it to her collar. She immediately ran back to the door and waited for him to open it, and he laughed.

"A'right, a'right... but no tackling Price this time. Nearly took out a few of his teeth last time, ya ninny."

------------

Short dribble while I figure out writers block for I Don't Need You. This will have multiple parts but it will be a shorter fic. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

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jinxed-lemon · 3 months

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Been thinking about Sonic and Tails and how after a few years the two of them finally feel comfortable enough to start treating each other in that mean way that only siblings can be.

He’d never joke if it was something serious- but whenever Tails gets a wound like a scratch or a bruise Sonic will give it a long, hard look while clicking his tongue and say, “I’m sorry bud, but we’re gonna have to amputate :(“ and Tails will magically pull out a hacksaw saying ‘bet’ and Sonic has to wrestle it away from him.

It’s hot outside and Sonic is too lazy to get his own drink so he stands there begging Tails to let him have a quick sip of his:

Sonic: pls just one sip and I’ll give it back

Tails: …5 seconds and that’s it

So Tails gives him the drink and Sonic is being dramatic like “thank you so much bro this means a lot to me”. And Tails stands there watching as Sonic slurps down the rest of his drink until theres nothing left and his brother hands him the empty cup back like “that hit the spot thanks dude :)”. Tails looks down at the empty cup in his hand then back at Sonic and he just full force smashes the cup to the side of his head, water and ice just splashing everywhere.

Tails is working in his lab and every time Sonic goes to visit him and catch up he will always ALWAYS leave the door open when he leaves. Tails will yell at him to leave it closed and Sonic never listens, he’ll just stand there in the door and go 🤷‍♂️ until Tails chases him around the house. Sometimes Tails will legitimately just lock the door and Sonic will scratch outside like a dog kicked out of its home.

Tails is throwing a tantrum and just being particularly snarky and Sonic will always say stupid stuff like:

Sonic: “I literally gave birth to you???”

Tails: “Mf no you did not ☠️”

They make a bet about who can embarrass the other the most in front of strangers. They’re out getting ice cream or something and Sonic is letting Tails choose a flavor at the front, and the worker is talking to them like “how nice that your brother is taking you out for ice cream”. Tails look up at her with a big smile and says, “It sure is. It’s the first time this month since he’s let me out of the house. I’ll have to enjoy this while I can!! 🥹”. The lady looks horrified and Sonic grabs Tails by the scruff of his neck and tries to de-escalate the situation.

Sonic: ahahaaa wowie!!! Kids sure do say the funniest things am I right?? 😁

Tails: 🦊🍦

They’re out shopping and it’s kinda busy and so Tails slips away while his brother is preoccupied and leaves to go do his own thing. An hour passes by and Sonic has already left when Tails sends him a message saying “You forgot me in the store :(“ Sonic goes through the 100 stages of grief before sprinting back and freaking out thinking he’s the worst brother ever and Tails has already been at home waiting for him to get back just to laugh in his face.

Sonic is hyping up Tails to their fans and he playfully ruffles his head and goes, “Yep! He just learned how to tie his own shoes, I’m hoping that he’ll learn his alphabets soon enough. ☺️” and Tails dies on the inside bc now all these people think he’s a second grader.

Mean sibling bonding at its prime.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/jinxed-lemon/743795378027184128/miles-tails-prower-enthusiast

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #tails the fox #unbreakable bond

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Daryl Dixon x Pregnant!Reader headcannons

*GIF isn't mine*

Warnings: Sexual content, pregnancy (obviously), morning sickness.

Word count: 853.

A/n: Basically just a collection of things I think Daryl would do if his s/o was pregnant.

To the people who sent requests, thank you so much for them! I'll get started on them right away. And as always, my requests are open for any TWD requests!

—

★The moment you told Daryl you were pregnant, he was scared and excited at the same time.

★Scared because he didn't know what parenthood would have in store for him (he was also scared he'd end up being like his father), but excited because he was starting a family with the love of his life—you.

★He'd be at your beck and call 24/7—he knew he had jobs to do around the community, but his girl and his unborn baby were his number one priority.

★Cravings? He'd make pantry runs for you. If the pantry didn't have what you wanted, he'd go on a run to find it for you, or send someone else to find it if you didn't want him to leave.

★If you were feeling clingy that day and didn't want him to leave your side, you best believe he'd stay practically glued to your side. The only exception would be if he was desperately needed for something extremely important, but if that wasn't the case? One wouldn't find him away from you.

★He would be so scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Even if you assured him multiple times that it wouldn't affect the baby in the slightest, he would still refuse. If you wanted pleasure, he'd eat you out like a starved man that's been denied a banquet for years, no problem, but full-blown sex is something he doesn't want to do; he doesn't want to hurt his little one.

★Daryl would be undeterred by your mood swings. Growing up with his father and brother, both of who's moods could change in a moment's notice, made him no stranger to sudden mood shifts. However, you were the love of his life and the mom of his unborn baby, so he treated your mood swings with more care and patience than he ever did with his father or brother. In his mind, your body was working overtime, so of course your emotions would be all over the place.

★Daryl would also be undeterred by your morning sickness. He was so used to being covered in blood and walker guts all the time that a bit of vomit would be the least of his worries.

★Daryl would pull your hair back and out of your face while you vomit, rubbing one of his hands over your back in gentle movements.

★Daryl would love laying his head on your baby bump. He'd place gentle kisses on your stomach while your hands softly tread through his hair, all the while wondering how he got so lucky with you, and how the two of you would be starting a family soon—something that he never would've thought he'd do before the apocalypse and before he met you—before he'd fall asleep on your stomach.

★Daryl would be the type of guy who'd think you look absolutely stunning during your pregnancy. Daryl always thought you looked beautiful, no matter what, but there was something about seeing you glow while your stomach continued to gradually grow as your and his baby grew that made you even more beautiful to him.

★That being said, if anybody even so much as looked at you wrong during your pregnancy, Daryl wouldn't hesitate to put them in their place. Nobody was allowed to degrade you ever, and especially not while you were carrying a life the two of you created in you.

★Daryl would outright refuse to let you do any hard work. He knew that he couldn't stop you from helping out at all (a guy could dream), but he refused to let you do any heavy lifting or anything that would exhaust you too much. Yours and your baby's safety was his number one priority, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you just because some people in the community couldn't pick up some extra work.

★Daryl wouldn't let you talk down on yourself. With your growing stomach came the inability to fit into any of your clothes, and with that came insecurity, but he'd always go out of his way to make sure you knew that there was nothing wrong with you or your body. You were perfect to him.

★Your clothes don't fit you anymore? Wear his. There's just something in him that loves seeing his clothes on his woman while she's pregnant with his baby. It drives him crazy in a good way.

★If there was an ultrasound available and the two of you went to yours, Daryl would tear up a little bit when he saw his little one for the first time. He'd take your hand in his and when the doctor left, he'd give you gentle, loving kisses.

★“Look at tha'. There's our baby, our lil' one.”

—

I'll come back and add on once I think of more.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 4 months

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ceilings pt2 - san (m)

summary: pe teacher!san x not so single mom!reader. now that san knows about his daughter, he's determined to worm his way into her life. and yours. and maybe your home? or, the one where violet's mom and dad fall in love.

word count: 16.3k (i could say i'm sorry but i'm not)

warnings: SMUT! afab reader, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving). this is unedited and i am sorry about that

masterlist / part one

"mommy, where's daddy?"

"he's at home, sugar," you answer violet. she's been asking about her dad a lot more lately, considering she now knows that san, her pe teacher, is her father. the two of you told violet the same night that you told san, and at first you worried that was the wrong choice. you were worried this would be too much for violet all at once and she wouldn't understand, so you and san came up with a plan.

you still drove violet to school every day, but she'd come home with san. he'd always bring her back to your house and watch her until you got home. every other night, the two of you would make dinner, or san would treat his girls to whatever they wanted if you were too lazy to cook. on the weekends, he and violet had daddy daughter days where he took her to the park, to birthday parties, friend's houses for playdates, the store...they went anywhere and everywhere together. daddy daughter days were always followed by family fun days where san would spend the night and wake up with you in his arms and violet knocking at the door asking to play. these were his favorites (and yours too) because it was just a glimpse of how wonderful your life as a family could be.

it was so hard for san to leave, though. he hated going back to his empty apartment during the week, and family fun days usually carried over into monday morning. the only thing stopping san from coming back and staying that night, and the next, and the next..the only thing stopping him was you.

you claim you were too afraid of changing violet's schedule so quickly, because san was, in a way, still a stranger to your daughter. you were afraid of doing anything that would hurt violet now or later on in life, so you wanted to take things slow with san. in reality, you were afraid of opening your own life to him. you know he's a great dad, you know you can trust him with violet, but you're afraid of trusting him with yourself. honestly, violet has been handling this great. now it's just you that needs to adjust.

you will say, the only growing pain so far is 1) getting violet to refer to san as mr. choi still at school and 2) getting her to not call him mr. dad at home. other than that, she's loving this whole dad thing. she's got another playmate, a new best buddy, a partner in crime. it's so cool seeing violet and san bond finally, and every day you catch yourself loving them both more and more.

"when we finish dinner, can we call him?" she asks. (she saw him less than an hour ago.)

"as soon as you eat your broccoli," you tell her, and you have to stifle a laugh at the way she rolls her eyes. your little drama queen. she listens though, because she's done with her food in record time. you let her take your phone and call her dad, laughing at the way she's speaking a mile a minute as soon as he picks up.

while violet and san talk, you clean up dinner. you don't have to do much, because san did most of your dishes while he waited for you to get home from work today. you're trying to balance the mess in your fridge and find space for the leftovers when you notice something you don't remember buying. you pull it out and see a handwritten note, from san, telling you he bought your favorite dessert "just because." you're pulling it from the fridge to sneak a couple bites without violet knowing when she appears in the doorway, your phone smooshed between her cheek and her shoulder. squeezed in her hands is san's old pillow, shiber, and she plays with it as she asks, "mommy? can daddy spend the night?"

"huh?" you laugh, recognizing how odd that sentence is. it's just another reminder for you that you need to get comfortable with san being here, being with you, because the longer you wait, the less she gets to see of her dad. you can hear san faintly through the phone, and then violet nods, goes, "mhm, she's right here," then passes the phone to you. "daddy said he wants to talk to you."

"is this the handsome man who left a tiramisu in my fridge this afternoon?" you greet him, and you get butterflies in your stomach when you hear his happy laugh.

"and what if it is?"

"thank you, san."

"of course, m'love," he says like it's nothing. "figured you would like it."

"so what's this i hear about you spending the night?" you ask as you try a bite of the tiramisu. it's sweet and comforting, just like san.

"that was violet's idea, i swear-"

"so you won't admit that you miss me?" you tease.

"will you admit that you miss me?" he gives it right back, and you feel your face flush.

"i do," you nod. "i miss you. if you want to spend the night tonight you can. sorry you had to go home-"

"don't say sorry," he cuts you off. "i'll be there in 20."

san is at your house in 15 minutes. he lets himself in, which will never not surprise you, because you're so used to being the only person with a key to your house. while you're recovering from the small heart attack of thinking an intruder was opening the front door, violet comes tearing out of her room screeching for her dad. she's so happy to see him, she jumps into his arms and he has to catch himself on the door to stop from falling. you let them have a moment, content to hang off to the side but san pulls you into his side and places a delicate kiss on your cheek.

"hey," he smiles.

"hello," you squeak, and he squeezes you closer to his side. "you want me to take your stuff to our room?"

"our room?" he asks, his smile growing bigger. "you've never called it that before."

"do you want me to take it or not," you deadpan, trying to will the blush away from your cheeks.

"yeah, you can take my stuff to our room," he emphasizes. "i'll get our daughter ready for bed."

"no!" violet whines. "you just got here!"

"you still have school tomorrow, bug," he tells her, booping her nose. "gotta stick to bedtime, but i'll read you an extra book after your bath. ok?"

"ok," she grumbles, wiggling her way out of his arms so she can stomp off to her room. you and san share a laugh and you turn to take his things, but his firm hand tugging your wrist stops you. he pulls you back to his side, cupping his hand under your chin so he can kiss your lips swiftly.

"you know we can kiss in front of her, right?" you whisper to him, but san shakes his head.

"wanted that one to be just for me and you," he says, his hand slipping from your wrist to playfully pat your ass. "go, i'll get her bath started."

"so pushy," you grumble, but you see san smiling from the corner of your eye as you take his things to your room.

not so long after that, you find your little family cuddled up on violet's bed. you're pushed up against the wall, violet smushed into your side, and san's broad form takes up the rest of the bed. he's reading a book to violet that's putting you and your daughter to sleep, and before you know it you've drifted off. you register a soft kiss to your forehead, the bed shifting a little, and then you fall into the deepest sleep you've had in years.

you wake up the next morning in a similar way, except this time, you feel two pairs of lips kissing you. you open your eyes to violet kissing your cheek and san pulling back from kissing your forehead. they're both dressed for school, and you sit up in a panic, mumbling incoherently.

"shh, baby, go back to sleep," san soothes you. "i'll take violet to school, i reset your alarm so you can rest a little more before you have to leave for work."

"what?" you ask groggily, and san explains that the three of you fell asleep in violet's bed. she woke up before her alarm, which woke san up, and he made their breakfast and packed their lunches while violet got dressed. there was nothing for you to do but sit there confused, a pleasant feeling blossoming in your chest. "i guess i'll see you tonight then?"

"you will," san nods, brushing some hair out of your face. "now please, go back to sleep."

"no," you shake your head, reaching for violet. "goodbye hugs. have a good day at school, sugar."

"i will!" she chirps. "it's a pe day, so i get to eat lunch in daddy's office!"

"ooo, i'm jealous," you say as you let her go. you blow san a kiss as he ushers violet out of her room, and he catches it dramatically and pops it into his pocket. he winks at you before he closes the door, reminding you one last time to rest before he leaves. when you hear the front door close, you let yourself fall back onto violet's pillows, catching the scent of san lingering in the sheets. you could get used to mornings like this.

san and violet have a great day at school. as promised, she got to eat lunch in his office, and she felt like the coolest person in the world getting walked back to class by her dad. hand in hand they go back to miss jen's room, meeting the class outside as they take a potty break. violet runs to join her friends, so san stops to say hi to jen.

"we missed you at lunch today," she says. "wooyoung thought you were having a conjugal visit with your wife."

"shut up."

"his words, not mine," she says, putting her hands up. "but violet told me you brought her to school today? is y/n ok?"

"yeah, she's fine," san shrugs. "i just figured she could use the sleep, so i got violet ready and brought her with me this morning."

"you spent the night?" jen wiggles her eyebrows.

"it's not like that," san laughs. "we all slept in violet's bed, no funny business."

"that's fucking cute," jen whispers, her eyes looking over her class to make sure they didn't hear her use a bad word. "things must be going well then!"

"it was violet's idea, me spending the night," san sighs, "but y/n was fine with it, so i guess, yeah, things are great."

"why don't you ask to move in? i know you want to."

"y/n would say no," san shakes his head. "she's not ready for that."

"then we'll make her ready!" jen decides. "i need you two to be madly in love already. i'm living vicariously through you right now."

"if you would just go on a date with wooyoung-"

"stop," jen points a harsh finger in san's face. "we are friends."

"friends who like each other-"

"come on, class, let's go!" jen calls for her kids, and san sticks his tongue out at her as she hurries off. if jen can play matchmaker with him and y/n, then san has every right to get her to realize wooyoung is obsessed with her. he'll bring it up to y/n tonight, see what else they can do.

seeing as you and san are trying to figure this whole estranged friends turned lovers turned parents thing out, one thing you struggle with is finding moments just to be a couple together. you and san never dated, really. yes, some of your time in college could constitute as the early stages of a relationship, but that doesn't really count. you're not sure you and san have ever been on a date under the premise of it being a date, but you are absolutely dating. he's your boyfriend, and you're his girlfriend. it feels trivial trying to define what you are to each other considering the circumstances, so you and san barely talk about it. it hasn't come up in a while, actually, but one friday while you're picking violet up from school, san approaches your car with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"hey beautiful," he greets you, leaning down to give you a kiss as yeosang (mr. kang, the librarian) helps violet into her carseat. at the sound of your lips popping apart from san's, yeosang gasps dramatically with violet.

"how dare you do that in public," yeosang shakes his head. "there's children present."

"mommy and daddy kiss all the time," violet tells him, and you all stifle laughs at the disgust in her voice.

"thanks for the help, man," san calls to yeosang as he heads off to grab the next carpooler. san ducks his head back into your car to ask, "what are you doing tonight?"

"hmm, nothing really," you think. "somebody has to help me clean the living room," you say with a glance to violet in the rearview, and she looks around like she can't hear you, "but other than that we're not busy. why?"

"let me take you out," san smiles.

"just me?"

"yep."

"what's our kid gonna do?"

"wooyoung can watch her," san shrugs, and you look at him skeptically. "orrr we could bother jen last minute-"

"she's got a date," you inform him, and san looks sad for a moment. "what's wrong with that?"

"that's gonna kill wooyoung," he sighs. "but whatever. he'll be fine with violet, he handles a third grade class on his own and so far he's only killed a fish."

"what?"

"baby, please," san starts to beg, grabbing one of your hands in his bigger ones and squeezing tight. "i would like to go on a date with you tonight. please say yes."

"of course i'll go out with you sannie," you reply, using your free hand to reach out and push some of his hair out of his eyes. "if you trust wooyoung with violet, then sure. just tell me where to be and when."

"be ready at seven," san smiles so big you're afraid it'll split his face. "i'll pick you up. dress sexy."

"san!"

"mommy, what does sexy mean?"

"sorry," san smiles still, leaning in to kiss you one last time. "see you later. bye bug!"

"bye daddy!"

you've always tried to be a good role model for violet, to show her what a strong woman looks like. you're not sure how that's translating tonight though, because you're stressing so much about this date with san that violet, in her little kid ways, is trying to comfort you. first she brought you her favorite stuffie to keep you company while you got ready. while you showered and stressed over your makeup, violet cleaned her toys in the living room without being asked. when she finished that and saw you were still frantic, she just climbed on your bed amidst the piles of clothes and started giving her own advice.

"daddy likes when you have sparkles on your eyes," she suggests, and you know she means glittery eyeshadow. san says it makes your eyes look like the night sky, and it always makes your stomach flip.

"if i wear that eyeshadow, then i need to wear one of these," you say as you hold up your outfit options. "these colors go together best."

"really?" violet scrunches her face up.

"yes? why?"

"that shirt is ugly," she says bluntly, pointing to the hanger in your right hand. "but i don't like that dress either. it's a yucky color."

the "yucky" color was an olive green, which you thought wasn't that bad, but violet had a point. the shirt was ugly now that you looked at it, and if she hated the dress too...

"what do you think i should wear, baby?" you ask as you try to organize the mess on your bed. "you pick."

"mmm, something blue," she says confidently, so you help her look. surprisingly, she puts together an outfit that you really like. violet stands in front of you in the floor length mirror, staring up at you proudly. you lean down to squeeze her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek before telling her this outfit is perfect.

violet looks so pleased with herself as you stand back up and watch her in the reflection. you focus a lot on how violet looks like san, but every once in a while you look at her and get this indescribable feeling of recognition in your chest. she is your daughter through and through, and you love sharing moments like these with her. as you stand there, you quickly notice that same glint of mischief you've seen in san's eyes before as she says, "do you think daddy's gonna call you sexy again?"

san comes over early with wooyoung in tow. the first thing he says when he enters your home isn't a hello, a nice to meet you, or anything remotely polite. he looks you dead in the eyes and asks, "why is jen on a date with seonghwa?!"

"excuse me?" you ask, looking from him to your date. san just shrugs before running off to find violet, leaving you all alone to answer wooyoung's interrogation.

"i mean, i've only been in love with her for years and instead of going out with me she picks this guy just because he's new and shiny and annoying.." wooyoung grumbles.

"you're annoying too, man," san says as he enters the room with violet in his arms.

"hi mr. wooyoung," she chirps, and wooyoung smiles warmly at her.

"hey violet! i'm your dad's best friend, so i think you and i will be best friends, too."

"i thought mommy was his best friend," violet pouts, and that sends wooyoung into another rant.

"you can have more than one best friend," you tell your daughter. "mommy has more than one best friend, and nobody is upset about that," you shoot wooyoung a look, and the mom eyes get him to shut up. "also, if you've been in love with jen for years then you've had plenty of chances to ask her out. sorry that seonghwa manned up and did it before you-"

"wooyoung, let me show you where all of vi's stuff is," san cuts in, afraid that you and wooyoung were about to get into a catty argument. you'd be late for your reservation if san let you keep going, so he runs through all the important things for wooyoung as you finish making violet's dinner. you don't hear san join you in the kitchen, too distracted by the sound of wooyoung and violet pretending to be what sounds like fighter pilots in the living room. you jump when san wraps his hands around your waist, sliding under the apron you tied over your dress to keep it pristine while you cooked.

"hey gorgeous," he whispers into your ear, and you feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as his lips trail from your ear down the column of your neck and to the exposed skin on your shoulder. he turns you around, hands still firmly around your waist, and he kisses you quickly. against your lips, he whispers, "this dress is gonna kill me."

"you'll be fine," you whisper back, hands rubbing over the crisp black fabric struggling to stay buttoned over his broad chest. you take him in then, the all black outfit making him look so handsome it's almost intimidating. the way his shirt is buttoned all the way to his neck, though...

"what's wrong?" san asks, his thumb rubbing at the crease between your eyebrows. "is my shirt wrinkly?"

"no, you just look like a waiter-"

"y/n," san whines, his hands squeezing your waist. "seriously baby?"

"well it's just," you start, your fingers finding their way to the collar of his shirt. "with all the buttons done up, yes, you look like a - very handsome - waiter. i think it'd look better this this," you mumble, undoing the top few buttons. now it's san's turn to get goosebumps, little tingles traveling across his skin as your fingers brush against his neck. you readjust his collar to show a little more skin, and you smile, satisfied with your work when you notice how flushed he is.

"better?" he asks as he clears his throat, and you nod.

"will you get violet in here? her food is ready."

once violet is set up at the kitchen table with her dinner, you and san start to say your goodbyes. you're running through violet's nighttime routine with wooyoung, and the boys assure you that you'll come home to your daughter in one piece.

"i've watched kids before, y/n," wooyoung says. "violet will be fine."

"you know i'll kick your ass if we come home and she's not," san says, and you hit his arm as violet calls out, "swear jar, daddy!"

"ok, we really need to go," you say. "we're gonna be late-"

"wait!" wooyoung shouts, getting up from the kitchen table with his phone out. "baby's first date. i need to get a picture."

"wooyoung," you groan as san says, "let him, baby. it'll be cute."

so you let wooyoung dramatically take pictures of you and san together, treating this more like senior prom than a date with someone you've known for almost ten years. san is eating this up, but you're trying to fight it. he's wrapping you in his arms, trying to kiss you for the photos, and you can't help it, you become a giggly mess. wooyoung is cooing over you two as he snaps the photos, but your eyes find violet watching from the kitchen. she's smiling, and it almost makes you tear up. you hope violet remembers moments like this as she gets old, and remembers how much you love san and how much he loves you. you want this same kind of love for her, something pure, protective, and so caring. you want this girl's standards so high, because she deserves all the love in the world. you wonder for a moment if you've found that kind of love, and when san calls your name to lead you out the door, you know. the look in his eyes tells you just how loved you are.

you and san share a beautiful evening together. san took you into the city to one of your favorite restaurants, and you were spoiled all night. dinner was delicious, the champagne was just strong enough that you're just tipsy but still very aware of how warm san makes you feel, and you share a dessert that you took turns feeding to each other. as far as "first" dates go, this was absolutely perfect.

neither of you wanted to leave, but you knew you had to get home for violet. she's on your mind as you make the short walk back to san's car, and a sign in the distance catches your eye. you turn to san with a twinkle in your eyes and say, "let's get donuts."

"what? baby, aren't you stuffed?" he asks, but you shake your head and grab his hand anyway. you lead the way to the donut shop a few blocks down, san following behind you with a content smile on his face. he'd follow you anywhere, he thinks. hell, if you wanted to run down this street until you ran out of road he'd follow you. he's glad the trek isn't that far though, but he wonders briefly if your shoes will be able to make the walk back to the car.

"violet will be so stoked to have donuts for breakfast tomorrow," you finally explain, and san nods along as you pick out what's left from the day. you're still gripping his hand firmly in yours, so you struggle to reach your purse when it's time to pay. san uses his free hand to take out his wallet, paying before you have a chance.

"still date night, still my treat," he whispers to you before kissing the top of your head. he takes the bag of donuts from the cashier as you both call out your thanks, and san sees you grab a couple napkins before he tugs you out of the store.

"gimme," you reach out for the bag, and san holds it out to you. you search for something, tongue peeking out between your lips in concentration. when you find what you want, you pull it out with one of the napkins, presenting a strawberry frosted donut with sprinkles. you take a bite, humming at the sweetness, and then you hold it up in front of san's face. "take a bite, it's really good."

"i'm full my love," he tells you, but you bump the donut into his mouth anyway. when he laughs, you try it again and aim for his open mouth, but he keeps managing to pull away. laughing softly, you come to a stop at a red light, and you decide to address something.

"san? you know i love you right?" you ask, and san looks at you in confusion. "what? you didn't know?"

"no, i knew," he shakes his head. "but, baby, i don't think we've said that to each other before."

"yes we have," you scoff, but san shakes his head again.

"as friends, yeah. but not seriously."

"oh."

"yeah."

"sorry?"

"sorry?" san chuckles, the light turning so you can cross the street. he watches you carefully try to navigate the bumpy crosswalk, and when you look back up at him he sees that you're blushing.

"yeah, i'm sorry i said it like that for the first time," you shrug. "like it wasn't a big deal."

"it's still a big deal," he assures you.

"but that's not how you're supposed to tell someone you love them!"

"i think we just do things differently, baby."

"whatever," you mumble. you're stopped at another light, so you turn to him fully, eyes holding his gaze, and say, "choi san, i love you."

"y/f/n," he replies, "i love you even more."

"oh really?"

"yeah," he nods. "like, way more."

"hmm."

"and you know what?" he asks. you hum in reply, and he continues. "i think your name would sound a loooot better with my last name."

"what?" you stop in your tracks. "are you-"

"i'm not proposing," he laughs. "just flirting, a little bit."

"oh so we're flirting now?" you ask. "then might i say, your ass looks great in those slacks."

"classy," san squeaks out. you're coming up on the street where you parked, and you stop san before he can turn. he's about to ask why, but you just point up toward the buildings ahead. it's a clear night, so you can almost see the stars in the night sky, but the skyline is glittering in front of you so beautifully it takes your breath away. you stand together admiring it, and only when you turn to find san already looking at you do you pull him in the direction of the car.

he unlocks the car from your side, but you stop him before he can leave. you wrap your arms around his neck, lean your face close to his, and whisper, "i love you so much, san." you kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, and he boxes you in so you're pressed against the cool metal of the car as he deepens the kiss. you make out for what feels like only a few seconds, but when san finally pulls away you notice you're out of breath.

"let's go home," he whispers, a fire in his eyes you've only seen once before. you've got butterflies in your stomach as san drives home, a firm hand on your thigh the whole way. you're watching him the whole drive, and san tries to focus on the road. he steals glances as much as he can, and when you get close to your house you start to get antsy. you place your hand on his, pushing it ever so slightly farther up your leg, and san's other hand is gripping the wheel so hard he's afraid it'll snap. he speeds the final few minutes back to your house, and as soon as the car is off he's grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. your hands start at his shoulders and slowly make their way down...and then there's a buzzing sound coming from somewhere. you want to pull away and look for the phone, but san holds you tightly in place. you have to speak directly into his mouth to ask, "who is it?"

"who cares?" san mumbles back into your lips. he keeps kissing you, and the buzzing dies out. but then you feel your purse start to vibrate by your feet, and you push san away with a pop as his lips disconnect from yours, his mouth still pursed and eyes closed like he doesn't believe you actually pushed him away. you reach for your phone, mumbling about how it could be an emergency, and when you show him that it's wooyoung, you think you've been vindicated. you answer and ask quickly, "is violet alright?"

"i'm not getting paid for you two to make out in your driveway," wooyoung replies, and your head falls back with a sigh.

"you're not getting paid at all, wooyoung."

"what?!"

"thanks man!" san shouts into your phone. "totally ruined the moment!"

"good!" wooyoung shouts back. "i'm bitter! and bored! come inside!"

"i'm gonna punch him," san tells you as you collect your things. he's out of the car before you and rushes to open your door.

"you are not," you roll your eyes. "just get him out of the house quickly, please."

"fine," san grumbles as you get your keys out to unlock the door. wooyoung is faster though, tearing the door open with a big smile on his face.

"welcome home lovebirds," he greets you with a sweep of your arms. you almost gasp when you see your house, because it's cleaner than you've maybe ever seen it. you look to wooyoung in shock, and he shrugs. "told you, i was bored. violet's been asleep for about two hours, so i needed something to do."

"you cleaned my house," you say in disbelief, peeking around corners and seeing things neatly put away, blankets folded, dishes washed and dried. you turn to wooyoung and say, "i think i might love you."

"whoa," san jumps in. "let's not say things we don't mean."

"whatever," you say, still looking around in surprise. "wooyoung i take back anything bad i ever said about you."

"you said bad stuff about me?" he pouts, and you remind him, "jen? not asking her out when you're both obviously into each other?"

"you think jen's into me?" wooyoung asks, and it's his turn to be shocked.

"he's never gonna leave now," san sighs as he comes up behind you and tucks his head onto your shoulder. "i've told you that before, man."

"yeah, but you're not a reliable source," wooyoung chides. he's about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"listen, i'd be happy to tell you how in love jen is with you, but maybe another time," you say, trying to use the mom eyes on wooyoung again to get him to leave. it seems to work, because he looks between you and san with a knowing look in his eyes.

"right, right, you two probably wanna get busy," he nods, and you feel san groan rather than hear it. "i'll leave you to it, violet was telling me how she wants a baby brother-"

"alright man, i'll see you later," san says as he detaches from you and pushes wooyoung toward the door. you watch them bicker a little before san shoves his friend outside and closes the door softly after. he leans against it and sighs, eyes reopening to find you watching him. "c'mere."

you saunter over to him, hands cupping his chin as you place a chaste kiss to his lips. you think if you step back and head for your room he'll follow you, but instead he grabs you by the hips and spins you around so you're pressed against the door. he makes sure there's no space between you, your chest pressed to his and his hips slotted over yours as he leans down for another kiss. he slowly trails his lips down your chin, across your neck, and stops right where your collarbone dips down slightly. he sucks a kiss into your skin, relishing in the way your breath catches as you try to stay quiet. he stays there, biting and kissing at your neck, and you reach up with a shaky hand to snake your fingers through his hair. you pull him off of you, a sounds close to a growl coming from deep within san's chest. you stare into his eyes, that flame still flickering from before.

"let's go to our room," you say breathlessly, and san nods. before you can stop him, he's scooping you up in his strong arms and carrying you to the bedroom, a squeal dying on your lips as he kisses you harder. he's able to kick the door closed before he tosses you down on the bed. you watch as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the ground, and you giggle.

"somebody's eager," you tease, and san groans.

"been waiting too long for this, damn right i'm eager," he mumbles as he crawls on top of you. he kisses you again, and this time it's messier, more teasing, and it takes you back to the first time you and san were in this position. you remember how he made you feel like your skin was on fire, and you feel that same way now. he breaks away from you and just stares, which starts to weird you out.

"earth to sannie?" you whisper. "what are you doing?"

"admiring you?" he smiles. "sorry, i got distracted."

"you got distracted staring at me?"

"yeah?"

"you're sickening," you tell him before kissing him again. this time, you wrap your legs around his hips and flip him over so you're straddling his lap. san has that same dopey look on his face from a second ago, so you decide to do something that will break this sappy haze he seems to be in. "so i was going to take my dress off, but i'm not wearing much underneath it..."

"baby," he whines, holding your hips and kind of kicking around like he's having a tantrum. "why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"we never would've left," you answer, and he shuts up. you lean down to kiss him, and over his lips you tell him, "and if we hadn't gone on our perfect date, i wouldn't have told you i loved you," you kiss him, "and knowing you, if we had stayed home, this would've been faster," kiss, "more frantic," kiss, "and what's the fun in that? we took our time getting here. why don't we enjoy it?"

"exactly," san growls, using his hands on your hips to pull you closer to the tent in his pants. you gasp at the friction, so san moves your hips again, and again, as he says, "we've waited this long. i don't want to wait anymore, just wanna make love to you."

"oh you do?" you ask as your hands find the buttons on his shirt. you trail kisses across his jawline as you undo his shirt, sitting up to admire his broad chest as your hands slide under the fabric and push it away. san refuses to let go of you, so you leave his shirt hanging off his shoulders as you trace over every freckle, every line, every curve of his chest. your hands trail lower, reaching the waistband of his pants, and san grabs both of your hands in one of his to stop you.

"take your dress off," he says lowly, and you feel his words in the pit of your stomach.

"not fair," you pout, but he shakes his head.

"wanna see you," he says, already breathless. his hands find the hem of your dress, fingers tracing along your skin and sending goosebumps across your thighs. he helps you push the skirt of the dress up, and he lets out a hiss of breath when he sees your panties, almost the same shade of blue as the dress. you keep pulling the fabric up and over your body, and san moans softly when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. "baby, you're gonna be the death of me."

"told you there wasn't much underneath," you laugh as you pull his hands from their slow ascent up your legs. you bring them to your chest to cup your boobs, and san sighs at the soft feeling. you lean back down over him, replacing your mouth on his. you make out like that for a while, san getting lost in the feeling of having you this way again. he doesn't know how he went years without this. he curses himself for all the lost time, but he smirks into your mouth as he thinks of all the ways he can make up for it in the future. you feel the shift in his features, so you pull back and ask, "what are you thinkin about?"

"about how much i love you?" he tries, and you don't fall for it. he squeezes your chest as he admits, "thinkin about all the ways i wanna have you this weekend."

"have me?" you tease him, and he nods. "what's the first one?"

"want you to ride me."

"you sure? we made a baby like that the last time," you tell him as you unbutton his slacks anyway. you're both impatient, so you don't even try to get his pants off, just low enough for you to cup the bulge in his boxers before you pull those down too. his cock springs free, and you spit in your hand before wrapping your fist around it. you stroke him a few times, even though it's not necessary. san might be harder than he's ever been right now, but you can't help it. he's moaning beneath you so beautifully, you get lost in the sound until he moans out your name.

"y/n, please," he groans. "just sit on it, please. need to feel you, baby."

"what if i wasn't ready?" you ask, but you pull your panties to the side anyway.

"could feel you soaking my pants," san smirks. "can't be cocky when i know exactly how bad you want me, baby."

"shut up," you mumble, trying to focus on guiding his tip to your entrance. you feel his tip against you and you hiss, you forgot how big he was. you lower yourself on his cock, moaning softly as san holds onto your hips for dear life to keep from bucking up into you. he waits for you to settle in his lap, no space left between you, and then he lets out a deep breath.

"feels so good, y/n," he sighs. "like your pussy was made for me."

"i need a minute," you tell him, and he rubs soothing circles into your skin.

"take your time my love," he says. your eyes are screwed shut, genuinely not used to feeling this full, and san reaches a hand up to your face to soothe the tension away. his other hand travels to your core, swiping through the arousal dripping from you so he can drag his finger up to your clit. he draws lazy circles around it, tapping over the bundle so softly. if you weren't so desperate for his touch, maybe you wouldn't be jerking at each little movement, but it's helping you relax.

you feel ready to move, and you place your hands over san's stomach for leverage as you pull off of him, leaving just the tip in. san's going crazy, he's trying to hard to go at your pace, to let you take your time, but he's losing that battle fast. he watches as you bounce above him, cupping your chest and focusing on your nipples so he doesn't put all his attention on how bad he wants to fuck up into you, to make another baby with you. he wants to enjoy this, like you said, he wants to take it slow if that's what you want, but god, he wants so much more.

"how do you feel baby?" he asks, and you whimper in response. that alone could kill a weaker man, he thinks, but the way you're gripping around his cock, how warm you are, how beautiful you sound, he's not going to last long. you put the final nail in his coffin when you whine out, "you feel so good sannie, missed you, missed your cock..."

san can't take it anymore, he grabs onto your hips again and slams you down onto his cock. he holds you there for a second, letting you feel every inch of him as you squirm in his lap, and just when he thinks you're about to tap out he grinds into you. you didn't think he could get deeper, but you can feel him in your gut. he pulls you up and guides you back down, and he does this a few more times before you finally gasp out, "'m close, sannie, 'm gonna come-"

and that's all he needs to hear. he holds you in place above him, braces himself from below, and starts fucking up into you. he's been waiting for this, god he's waited for this, and he wants to ingrain everything into his memory. the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel. it's overwhelming, and he can't help it, he starts to come, fucking his load into you as he tries to get you to your own high. he brings his hand back to your clit, and you're gasping above him, coming so hard you think you see stars. san lets you catch your breath above him, his cock still buried deep inside you. he's also afraid that if you move, all his come will leak out, and selfishly, he doesn't want that to happen. he felt his heart skip an excited beat at the idea of having another kid with you, so he's happy to sit and wait until you're ready to move.

"fuck," you whisper as you start to separate from him. "fuck, that felt really good."

"and to think, you deprived yourself of that for so many years," san says with a shit eating grin. you pinch his chest as you get up, but he takes you by surprise and pins you down before you can leave the bed. "where ya goin?"

"to shower?" you reply, and san smirks above you.

"who said i was done lovin you though?"

san wakes up the next morning and immediately puts his arms out to find you. he sighs happily as he pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his head into your hair. he takes a deep breath in, thinking not for the first time that he would be happy staying like this for years. he doesn't know how you expect him to leave once this weekend is over, condemned to come and go just to end up at his lonely apartment each night. he understands why you both decided on this set up, but he hates it. he'll just have to find a way to convince you that you'd be miserable without san here 24/7, and he thinks he's got a good idea to start.

you'd think the three rounds last night would be enough for any regular man, but not san. now that he's had you again he can't help himself. even holding you and feeling your warm breath hit his chest has him shifting to accommodate the growing problem beneath the sheets. he has no idea how he was able to wait years to fuck you, because he can't imagine waiting another second right now. he slowly rolls you back onto your pillow, hoping he won't wake you just yet. he makes sure you're comfortably laid back and then he pushes the sheets away, crawling down until his face is level with your bare stomach.

he leaves light kisses across your skin, starting above your bellybutton and trailing down. he sucks a couple hickeys on the skin of your hips, tracing his thumbs over the reddened marks in satisfaction. you begged him not to leave too many marks last night, but he looks up proudly and sees the result of your lost fight. there's only one or two spots on your neck, but your collarbone and your chest are a different story. san wants you to know you're his, finally his, so if he has to leave daily love bites on your skin to remind you, he will. happily.

he kisses one of the marks on your hips now, licking the skin just to taste you. he feels himself get excited at the thought of really tasting you, and he continues his descent down to your core. he thought about this as you were falling asleep last night, but he's never really seen your pussy. the few times you've had sex, there were just other things on his mind, so now that he can, san takes his time admiring you. he uses his thumbs to pull your lips apart, moaning softly at the sight of his come dripping out of you or dried on your skin. he leans in and places a kiss over your clit, and your legs jerk, but you stay otherwise still. that won't do, san thinks, so he delicately traces your entrance, collecting some of the wetness that's still pouring from you, and strokes your clit. he licks over it carefully, wanting to savor this moment.

his ears perk up as he hears you start to whimper, so he cups his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks ever so slightly. his fingers trail back to your entrance, dipping in just so, and he sets a steady rhythm of playing with your clit and easing his fingers into your core. he's focused on his work, determined to make you feel good, but he wants more. he switches his fingers up to your clit, your wetness helping them glide over you easily. he kisses down your pussy until he gets to your entrance and dips his tongue in. you stir again, so san repeats his movements, determined to wake you up. he loses himself at the taste of you, and when he thinks about last night, how many times he came inside you, he moans into your core. he's getting impatient, his senses drowning in you. all he can feel is you, all he can taste is you, all he hears is you calling his name...wait-

"sannie, fuck," you gasp above him, your hands pulling at his hair to get him away from your sensitive core, but he holds strong. you try to use your thighs to squeeze his head and push him away, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your pussy, but he reaches up and holds your legs apart so he can eat you like a man starved. now that you're awake, he doesn't have to keep quiet. he's drunk on your pussy, moaning and slurping obscenely, mumbling about how good you feel, how good you taste, how he wants to make you feel good. you can't help it, you start to come, gasping above him trying to take a deep breath. san feels you tighten around his tongue, but he keeps going. he keeps eating your pussy like he'll never get the chance again, and your sleepy haze mixed with the way he's making you feel has your vision spotty and your mind in a haze. he gets you to come again soon after, and you finally whine his name loud enough for him to look up at you, his mouth lazily teasing you as you exhale, "well. good morning."

"morning baby," he smiles, your arousal all over his chin. you whine, and he strokes your thighs comfortingly as he asks, "can you give me another one? still hungry."

"we have donuts."

"they're not as sweet as you," he insists, diving back in. you can't keep up with him, your senses so overloaded with san that you're begging for something but you don't know what. san works you up to another release before giving you a break, crawling up your body and trailing kisses the whole way. you try slapping his chest, but the movement is so weak it only makes him laugh. "what are you doing, love?"

"trying to hit you," you reply. "i'd kick you but i don't think my legs work."

"good, i did my job then," san says happily. he collapses on top of you, and you blush at the feeling of the mess between your legs. with san's chin on your chest, staring at you so content, you flick his nose and he bursts into laughter. "what was that for?!"

"for being perfect. and for turning me into a shell of a woman. i can't move, seriously."

"need me to help you into the shower, doll?"

"no," you shake your head. "i don't trust what you'd do in there."

"nothing out of the ordinary," he smirks, and you flick his nose again. he moves quick, biting your finger before you can move away, and you squeal. with your finger between his teeth he asks, "so? shower?"

"if you can carry me, then yeah," you give in. san pulls himself out of bed, easily lifting you from the bed as you raise your arms to wrap around his neck. he places you delicately on the bathroom counter, laughing with you as you squeal over the cold marble. he runs a bath for you, insisting that if your legs don't work you shouldn't be standing in the shower. he helps you into the warm water once it's ready, and you assume he's going to join you but instead he turns back to your room. "baaabyyy," you whine, and he's in the doorway immediately.

"what's wrong? was it too much? are you sore?" he asks in worry, but you shake your head and make grabby hands for him in response. he smiles as he comes closer, holding your hands in his as he asks, "are you always this needy after sex?"

"yep," you reply. "get used to it. and get in the tub with me."

"can't," san sighs, dipping down to give you a kiss anyway. "i'm getting dressed and then checking on our daughter."

"she's probably still asleep," you say as you lay your head on the cool porcelain edge of the tub.

"then i won't be gone long," san tells you before ducking back out of the bathroom. you keep your head on the tub though, admiring him from afar. you love having him here, you think. you wonder if he'd be ok with staying longer than just a weekend.

while san took care of violet, you got an idea. you enjoyed the rest of your bath, but as soon as you were dressed you got down to business.

you were buried amongst boxes, piles of clothes, and shoes you'd never wear when san and violet come looking for you. you hear violet run into your bedroom calling for you with san right behind her, not sure if you were decent or not. when they don't see you in the bedroom, san peeks into the bathroom as vi goes for your closet, and she giggles when she sees you on the floor.

"mommy, what are you doing?" she asks, kneeling down in the mess anyway.

"i'm cleaning out my closet, bug," you answer. you push a box toward her and say, "call for your dad, i want him to look through those."

"i'm right here," san appears, popping his head through the door. he looks at you quizzically, then decides to go with it and kneel next to violet.

"i'm cleaning out my closet," you repeat. "i want you to go through that box next to vi, that's all of her work from preschool. you can keep any of it that you want."

"really?"

"yeah, we've got plenty of it around the house, and i've basically made wallpaper out of it for my office, so i figured you might like some," you shrug.

"thank you baby," he smiles, dimples on full display. you watch fondly as he settles on the ground, violet climbing into his lap almost as a reflex. they sit together and go through everything, violet giving commentary on what she remembers and calling on you to explain what she doesn't. you're constantly in motion, trying to organize your clothes and make piles of what you can donate. you turn to your family every so often for opinions, violet giving it to you straight when she thinks something is ugly, and san being no help at all. he just says you'll look great in whatever you're holding up, and borders on compliments too vulgar for your daughter to hear. it's a good thing violet knows how to speak her mind, because with her brutal honesty and a good idea of what clothes will drive san insane, you're left with the perfect amount of clothes.

you won't take any outside input on which shoes to donate, though. that's a personal decision for you, and san is smart enough to stay out of it. violet, on the other hand, picks up her favorite shoes and tries them on, laughing with glee when she trips and san has to dive to catch her. she asks if she can keep some of the shoes for herself, but knowing how expensive they are, you try to find nice ways to tell her to back off. san promises to buy her "mommy shoes" and that seems to satisfy her, but now she's bored and wants to go play. you shoot san a sympathetic glance as he's pulled out of the closet by your hyperactive kid, and then you're alone. you step back and look at the space you were able to clear, and you think that should be enough for san's things. you can always use the hall closet if he needs more space, but he's a man, how many clothes does he need?

"hey," he whispers from behind you, making you jump. you would turn around to talk to him, but he wraps his arms around you and sways your bodies from side to side as he informs you, "i got her set up with a movie. i love that girl, but i needed a break."

"thank you for giving me the morning to myself," you tell him, leaning your head back on his shoulder. you turn to place a kiss on his jaw, whispering against his skin, "you're so wonderful to me. and to violet. we're very lucky ladies."

"and i'm a lucky man," he responds. his eyes fall to the pile of violet's work on the floor, and he separates from you to pick it up. he shows you the stack and says, "got enough for my apartment and my office. there's not much left in the box, though."

"that's fine," you brush it off. "i needed the space in here, so."

"hey, did you eat this morning?" san asks while he tucks violet's work into his duffel bag. when he stands up fully he points an accusing finger at you. "i wore you out twice and you haven't eaten, that's not good for your health."

"you're not good for my health," you scoff. "last time i was this sore was after labor."

"sorry," san says sheepishly. he reaches for your hand and tugs you toward the door. "come on, let's get you some food and then hang with violet. i put on one of your favorites."

the rest of the weekend passes by in complete bliss. it's like that night with san bridged any gaps that timing and poor decisions might have created between you, and you've never felt more in love or more like a family than you do right now. but there's a pit in your stomach as you sit with san and violet at the dinner table, knowing that san needs to go back to his apartment tonight. he didn't pack any work clothes, so he really needs to leave, but he so doesn't want to. he wonders how many more weeks he can get by with going to his place just long enough for you to miss him and call him back home. meanwhile, you're wondering how you can inconspicuously get jen and wooyoung to help move san's things to your house on such short notice. san checks the time, and you feel the pit in your stomach tear open as he stands to leave.

"alright girls," he sighs, putting his dishes in the sink. "i guess i gotta go. need to get ready for the week."

"i'll miss you daddy," violet pouts, and san mimics her with a pout of his own.

"i'll miss you even more bug, you have no idea."

you stand and clear your own plate as violet sadly pushes her peas around with her fork, and you catch san staring at her from the doorway. "what's wrong, san?"

"i don't wanna go," he admits. his voice is so quiet you can barely hear him, but he can't say it any louder. it hurts leaving you two, and san isn't sure how many more trips he can take before his heart just kicks it.

"then don't go," you shrug. "move in with us."

"are you serious?" san asks, a smile slowly breaking across his face. he takes two steps and he's in front of you, hands on your waist, asking you again, "are you serious?"

"yeah," you nod. "violet? what do you say? should daddy stay here forever?"

"and ever?!" she adds, making san laugh, a happy squeaky sound that sends your heart soaring.

"i'll stay forever and ever and then some," he agrees. he pulls you into the tightest hug known to man, spinning you around the kitchen as he whispers to you, "this is finally happening."

"it took us long enough, right?" you whisper back, gripping onto his shirt. you squeal as san pushes you off balance, and you realize he's trying to move you toward the kitchen table. he lets go of you long enough to lift violet into his arms and smush her between you both, and then the spinning continues.

"my girls," he smiles proudly. "i love my girls."

that monday at work, san feels like superman. he woke up with your head on his chest, he ate breakfast with his girls, and he had a sing along in the car with violet as he drove her to school. he put works of violet art up in his office (and a couple on the gym bulletin board, she was very embarrassed), and he walked violet to her classroom before carpool started so he could tell jen the good news.

"hey violet!" jen greets her, and violet runs up to give her a hug. "how was your weekend?"

"good!" violet replies. "daddy spent the night, and then mommy told me he was staying forever and ever, and then this morning i saw mommy and daddy naked wrestling-"

"she saw you what?" jen hisses, and san has to look embarrassed.

"um, yeah, i wanted to celebrate my first morning moved in, so...we forgot to lock the door, and...yeah. it's been a long morning at the choi household," san explains, and jen pushes his arm surprisingly hard.

"so you moved in?!"

"kind of?" san rubs the spot jen basically punched. "y/n asked me to move in last night, so we filled our cars with some of my stuff and brought it to the house. i'll really move in this weekend."

"well, if you need me and wooyoung to help, you know where to find us," jen offers.

"you and wooyoung?" san wiggles his eyebrows, and jen nods eagerly.

"yep, we're an item now. you and y/n aren't the only ones who did some naked wrestling this weekend."

"please don't say that," san groans, and thankfully, the bell rings to alert teachers to their stations. san stoops down to kiss violet's forehead as he says goodbye, and he rushes off to his carpool spot. he hears jen say as he leaves, "violet, you need to knock before you go into mommy and daddy's room..."

you have to admit, living with san is bliss. you didn't know how easy it could be having someone else around to take care of violet, and you especially didn't know how nice it would be to have someone around to take care of you. san was quick to show his love with actions and words, and all he asked for in return was your time. if he had his way, he'd spend every second of every day with you and violet. it hurts to watch you leave for work in the mornings, and it hurts him again when he parts from violet at school. at home, he's always attached to one of you. some nights he's lucky, and he gets you both.

tonight, san stopped by the store for you on the way home because you needed some last minute things for dinner. san got what you needed, plus some wine he knew you'd like, and he got violet her favorite ice cream without her even asking. he had everything ready for you when you got home, and since violet helped get the ingredients she wanted to help cook, too. san always stays in the kitchen with you as you fix dinner, because he likes to clean up after you as you go. he claims it's efficient, but it's also a chance for you to catch up on your days. you're happy to have violet with you tonight, but it did ruin one of your mom secrets.

"what can i help with, mommy?" she asks once she's set up next to you, standing on her tippy toes on top of her step stool.

"you can help me tear the spinach to go into the spaghetti," you show her how to do it, and she copies your actions with a frown on her face.

"what's wrong bug?" san asks, given up on the dishes. he just wants to watch you and violet work together.

"where's the 'pinach going?"

"into the sauce, baby," you answer her. "i always put it into the sauce, it's yummy."

"do i like 'pinach?"

"you like it in spaghetti."

eating dinner together is one of san's favorite things, too. he loves the conversations that come out of violet, and he feels so privileged to see her personality growing and maturing before his eyes. she's an incredible kid, and san reminds you constantly that you did a phenomenal job raising her. you insist that his genes made her an angel to begin with, and that makes san blushy and shy enough to change the subject. he starts to ask you about a work thing, so there's no attention on violet for a moment. she starts giggling though, and when you turn back to her you see that she's slurped noodles so quickly that there's sauce all over her face. it reminds you of a similar mess when she was a baby, so you show san pictures and videos of baby vi that have his stomach doing flips. he asks you to send him those, and you do as he says while he and violet start to clear your plates.

you move into the living room to get ready for one of your favorite shows. it's coming back after a hiatus, so you made it clear this morning you didn't care what san and violet did as long as you got to watch. what you didn't expect was for san to come in from the kitchen with violet in his arms, dumping her down on top of you in a giggly pile. san leaves to grab your favorite blanket and takes his time tucking it around you and vi before he slides in next to you, intertwining his legs with yours and pulling you so your head will lay on his chest. he wraps his arms around you and violet, and sighs happily when he's all done.

"whatcha doin?" you turn your head to his as he flips through the channels, looking for your show.

"we're watching this show together?" he says like it's obvious. "violet told me there's cool stunts."

"and the old guy is funny!" she adds.

"see? cool stunts and a comedic grandpa, i'm sold," san says, kissing the top of your head as the show starts.

"ok, but no talking until the commercial breaks," you mumble, pulling san's arm further around your shoulders so you can hold his hand over your chest.

"is that the old guy?" san asks a minute later.

"baby," you whine. "i said no talking!"

"i have to go potty," violet says a few minutes after that, climbing over the pile of her parents. san watches her go then turns to you, calling your name.

"sannie, please, it's almost a commercial-"

"i want another one," he whispers excitedly, and you look confused for a second before it clicks.

"another kid?" you confirm, and he nods eagerly. "right now? i don't think we have time-"

"no baby," he chuckles. "just. whenever. but sooner rather than later, please. i want at least three, so-"

"three?!" you shriek. "that's a lot of kids for me to push out of my-"

"daddy, can i have some ice cream?" violet asks as she returns from the bathroom.

"of course baby," he responds, sliding his limbs from under and around you slowly. he comes back with violet quickly, and she plops down next to you with san on her other side. they eat in silence, which you're thankful for since your show is back on, but san calls your name and you stifle a groan. you look up to find him holding a spoonful of ice cream out for you, and you let him feed it to you with a soft look in his eyes. he wipes a dribble from the side of your mouth, presenting his finger to you. he tells you with his eyes to taste that next, and as you stare up at him and suck on his finger, you feel your skin erupt in goosebumps. you let go of his finger with a pop and then basically hide under the blanket until the show is over.

as the credits roll, you look to san and see violet curled up in his side, the empty ice cream tub long forgotten. san's carefully stroking violet's back, and when he catches you staring he reaches a hand out for you. you grab it, bringing his knuckles to your lips so you can kiss each one before speaking. against his skin, you whisper, "i'm ready to have another kid with you. but let's start with one, ok?"

agreeing to have another kid with san might have been a bad idea. if you thought he was all over you before, now he really can’t keep his hands off you. it's a sisyphean task getting him out of bed in the morning. he grabs onto whenever you pass each other in the house, stealing kisses that he hopes will lead to more. he's rushing through bedtimes with violet so you can have more "mommy daddy time" in violet's words. it's so bad even your kid has noticed! but....you're not complaining. you pretend to hate it, you pretend to resist just to give in later, but really you're eating this up. a match made in heaven, you two!

after a particularly active morning, you decided to work from home for the day. you were feeling under the weather anyway, so it was nice having the option. especially on days like today when san forgets his lunch. he called you about an hour into his day in a panic, already whining that he was going to starve to death. you roll your eyes but listen intently before offering to bring it to him. halfway through the call you found his lunchbox looking lonely in the fridge, so you were happy to spend your lunch break doing something for san. before you head out, you tear off a paper towel and write him a little note like you do when you pack violet's lunch, and then you're out the door.

san said he would be in his office, so you park in the teacher lot and make the short walk to the gym. it's its own building behind the school, so it's quiet as you make your way to san. your footsteps echo on the wooden floor, and an eager san slides out of his office in his desk chair. like an excited puppy, he jogs to meet you halfway and wraps you in a hug, peppering kisses over your face along with whispered thanks.

"what would i do without you, baby?" he asks.

"starve, apparently," you tease, pinching his cheek. "so i guess i'll see you at home?"

"eat lunch with me," he begs, not giving you a chance to answer. he takes the lunchbox in one hand and wraps his other around your waist, leading you to his office. he sits in the rolling chair and walks it back over to his desk while you stand at the door. "you waitin for an invite, doll? get in here."

"where do i sit?" you ask, semi-distracted by the way san has decorated his office. your heart warms seeing so much of violet's work in here, and you blush as you notice the pictures san has printed of you and violet to tack up along with her art. san hasn't replied, so you turn to find him patting his lap with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and you just laugh at him. "i'll stand."

"at least stand closer to me," he whines. "so far away over there."

you sigh, but walk to his desk anyway. you hop up so you're sitting on the one space free of junk, but that puts you directly in front of san. he opens your legs slightly, and you feel your heart rate spike, but he just scoots closer and starts unpacking his lunch. you watch as he focuses on tearing his sandwich equally, his tongue caught between his teeth as he works. you take this time to snatch his chips, feeding one or two to san as he searches for a napkin to wrap your sandwich in. he finds the note you stuffed in there and smiles, a blush creeping over his cheeks as his dimples appear.

"what's this?" he asks in a squeaky voice.

"reminder of how much i love you," you shrug.

"i love you too," san says happily as he straightens the napkin. "thanks for bringing my lunch."

"you said that already."

"well let me thank you another way?" he asks, his hands drifting to your knees and sliding up your thighs. you try to close your legs, pushing him off, but his grip is stronger than yours.

"san, there's kids here."

"so? we're trying to make one-"

"sannie!" you hiss. "no! not at school."

"but no one's gonna be anywhere near the gym for another thirty minutes!"

"what about wooyoung? or jen? don't they come check on you when you don't eat lunch in the teacher's lounge?"

"they can deal," san says, leaning down to trail kisses up your leg. as much as you want to, and god you want to, you can't. not here. so you use your foot to catch the rolling chair and push san back. he thuds into his bulletin board with an "oof!" and you laugh as you hop down. "what are you doing? come back here-"

"ah, i'll see you at home," you tell him. you're almost to the door when he catches up with you, holding onto your waist like his life depends on it.

"just one kiss before you go," he whispers, and you feel yourself nodding before you can say no. he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, moaning as he slides his hands around to grip your ass, but you grab his hands and pull them off of you. you give him one last kiss and then you step back, pointing a finger at him as you say, "you are trouble, mr. choi."

"and you're sexy, mrs. choi," he smirks, watching you leave.

"not your missus!" you shout back, turning to catch him still watching you walk away. he waves teasingly, blowing a kiss that you catch and place over your heart. "i'll see you at home, you crazy man."

san tried using the rest of his lunch to plan, but you were right - jen and wooyoung came to find him before lunch ended, so it's really a good thing you didn't take up his offer to fuck in his office. wooyoung makes himself at home, playing with some of the loose equipment as jen asks why san didn't show for lunch.

"i forgot my lunch, so y/n had to bring it to me," he explains, and wooyoung gasps.

"you had sex in here!" he shouts, pointing an accusing finger at san.

"no, we didn't," san sighs. "but i wanted to."

"y/n said no?" jen asks, and san nods. "of course she was the voice of reason."

"what do you both want?" san asks. "shouldn't you be with your classes right now?"

"there's an assembly after lunch, so they're the vp's responsibility," wooyoung smiles evilly. "so you didn't even get some head while y/n was here?"

"wooyoung!" jen shrieks, and he shuts up. "sorry he's disgusting."

"i'm more sorry for you, you're dating the guy," san teases, and jen blushes. "so you both came here to bother me? no other reason?"

"i suspected you had a visit from the milf, so i came to get the low down on that," wooyoung replies.

"and if y/n was here i wanted to talk to her," jen says. "i need to have one conversation with someone sane today."

"you're talking to me!" san says, and jen laughs. "ouch."

"whatever man," wooyoung says as he walks toward the door. "if you're gonna lie and say nothing happened here, then i'm outie 5000."

"actually, i do want to tell you something," san starts nervously. "it's nothing saucy, but i think i need your help. both of you."

"anything," jen says, and wooyoung nods in agreement.

"great," san smiles. "well, uh, i think i'm going to propose to y/n..."

there's a daddy daughter dance at the end of the week. san, of course, will be taking violet. that means you need to go shopping! violet needs a new dress, and san has to buy a shirt that matches. violet chose a light purple, her favorite, and insisted on you getting something that color, too. since you were just spending the night at home, you tried to buy a light purple pajama set, but san vetoed it. he made you pick out a dress of your own despite you saying you won't wear it but for five minutes.

"but now we have a family outfit," san smiles. "we can wear it all the time."

"violet, your dad is embarrassing," you say to your daughter, and she nods.

"whatever," he sighs, taking the clothes from you and violet anyway. "i'm just excited to do family stuff with you."

"is family stuff like mommy daddy stuff?" violet asks, and you let san handle that one. you've stopped at the jewelry section, wondering if you can find a necklace for violet to wear. you play with the charm around your neck now, the heart necklace violet gave you. as you're spinning the display around, you hear two sets of footsteps come up behind you.

"whatcha doin mommy?" violet asks, tugging on your hand. you pick her up and point to one of the necklaces, answering, "trying to find something that matches your new dress. do you like this?"

"ooo, yes," she nods at the flower charm you're showing her. "can daddy have one too?"

"not sure that's my style, bug," san squints at the necklace.

"and it's a kid size, it wouldn't fit around your beefy neck," you point out. you look around and your eyes light up as they fall on what you're looking for. you grab violet's necklace and head to a display of rings, holding the necklace up to find something that goes with it. "daddy can wear a ring to match with you at the dance. how's that sound vi?"

you get an enthusiastic yes from her, so the three of you look quietly for a moment. san holds something up and asks what you think, but you shake your head.

"that's too dainty for you," you say.

"for you," san corrects. "do you like it for you?"

"hmm," you inspect the ring, and shake your head. "no, i think i prefer gold jewelry."

"what about this?" san holds up another ring, and you like this one. it's a simple gold band with a purple gem set on a raised back, but you nod and offer san your left hand since violet is currently occupying your other arm. san slides the ring onto your ring finger, but it won't get past your knuckle. san tries his best, but it won't budge, and you can't help but laugh. "hmph. you have chubby fingers."

"hey!" you whine, "that's what having a kid does to you. parts of your body are never the same again."

"really?" san asks. "i never knew that."

"yeah, there's a lot of weird stuff that happens with pregnancy," you shrug. "but i got used to it."

"you'll have to tell me everything soon," san says, cupping your head to pull you in for a forehead kiss. he's distracted now, thinking about something else, and starts to turn back in the direction of the registers when violet reminds him, "daddy! the rings!"

"oh right, thanks bug," he winks at her, and you kiss violet's cheek in thanks. san finds a bigger size and tries it for good measure. it's a perfect fit.

"do you still want a ring?" you ask san, and he searches for a moment before holding one out to you.

"what about this?" he passes it to you, and you cock your head in confusion. "what? you don't like it?"

"hm, i like it," you tell him. "it goes with mine."

"even better," san smiles.

the night of the dance can't get here soon enough. violet has been bouncing off the walls excited for it all week, and you know san is looking forward to it too. he told you that he gets stuck overseeing the dance every year because it's in the gym, and he admitted this was the kind of thing he dreamt of taking his own kid to some day. he seems a little nervous though, which you think is sweet.

because he had to plan the dance, the week leading up to it is a busy one at your house. san is constantly stepping outside to take calls, and he's running off to errands throughout the week to make sure everything is perfect. he's taken over the coat closet, claiming there's things in there violet can't see, but he won't let you look in there, either. one afternoon, he catches you peeking and turns a bright red.

"what are you doing!" he squeaks. "you can't see this!"

"why not?" you laugh. "i'm not going to the dance."

"yeah, but if you see it, and then violet asks what you saw, you'll tell her-"

"i'm not a snitch," you scoff.

"well you're usually on her side," san rolls his eyes.

"hey, i'm on your side all the time, babe," you assure him. "but girls gotta stick together, so i guess you have a point."

"exactly," san sighs, checking that the closet is closed before pulling you in for a hug. he inhales deeply and lets out a breath of relief once you're wrapped around him, and you rub his back soothingly.

"you're doing a great job, my love," you tell him. "it's gonna be a great night, everyone will have so much fun, and it'll be all thanks to you."

"i hope you're right," san says, and he hopes you don't catch the quiver of nerves in his voice. he also hopes you can't feel the box of the engagement ring poking out of his pocket. you caught him before he could slip it into the closet, and he's starting to sweat having you so close to it. even though he doesn't want to, he slowly lets you go, stroking your hair as he gets an idea, "hey, can i ask you to do something for me?"

"anything."

"anything?" he smirks, and you smack his arm. "no, i was wondering if you could make pancakes for dinner?"

"really? that's it?" you ask, but he nods like he's completely serious.

"i hear you're better at them now," he teases. "but, i don't know, i've just been so stressed this week, and that's like a comfort meal for me-"

"oh sannie, yes, yes i'll make you pancakes," you promise. "you want chocolate chips?"

"i love you," he says as he nods vehemently. you giggle as you stand on your toes to kiss his cheek.

"dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes then," you tell him. "unless i burn the house down, then we're just going to waffle house."

it's the night of the dance. to anyone walking by, it might sound like your house is having a party, but it's just you blaring music while everyone gets ready. you're already in your dress, so you're helping violet while san showers. he was so jumpy when he got home, you're really worried about him. this dance must have been a lot of work for him, so you're glad he'll get to rest when it's done. once san and violet leave, you've got a riveting night of laundry ahead of you so san can come home to a clean, comfy bed to collapse in. you know he'll need it after the week he's had.

you're mentally trying to organize the loads of laundry you have to do while you work on violet's hair. she's digging through your make up bag because you promised she could use eye shadow and lip gloss tonight, and you're both humming along to the music. you don't hear her stop and say something to you, and you certainly don't hear whoever is knocking at the door. violet twists around to look at you, ruining the heart shape you were trying to pull her hair into.

"aw, vi, now i have to start over-"

"mommy, someone's knocking on the door," she cuts you off. you reach for your phone to turn the music down, and she's right, there's someone frantically knocking at the front door. you walk out warily, unsure of who it could be, but you spot a flash of jen's hair through the window. when you open the door, she looks relieved.

"good, you're dressed," she breathes out. upon further inspection, she frowns and says, "but you haven't done your hair? no make up? y/n we're gonna be late."

"what?" you're confused. late for what?

"san didn't tell you? we need you to chaperone the dance," jen explains as she steps inside. that's when you notice she's dressed up too. "one of the fifth grade teachers was supposed to help me with the photo booth, but she's puking everywhere-"

"ew, gross," you stop her. "i mean, san didn't tell me anything, but i guess i can help? i'm not doing anything tonight." looks like you needed this dress after all!

"great," jen smiles. "now about your hair..."

seconds later, violet is standing in front of you while you sit on a kitchen chair as jen works on your hair for you. you're still trying to finish violet's, and then you need to help her with the make up she picked out. you could care less how you look, you'd rather violet get the pampering she wants, but jen is insisting that you "at least need to look put together tonight."

"hey, is san still here?" you ask suddenly. "i don't hear the shower anymore, but he's being awfully quiet if he's home."

"his car wasn't here when i pulled up," jen shrugs. "ok, hair's done! now where's your make up?"

"in violet's room," you reply. she goes to grab it, and when she returns you're done with violet's hair. "how's our girl look?"

"just as beautiful as her momma," jen replies, and she laughs when you and violet blush the same way.

"careful, i'm a taken woman," you warn.

"i could totally take san in a fight for your hand."

"wooyoung would be pretty upset though," you remind her, and now it's her turn to blush. "is he gonna be there tonight?"

"yeah, he's helping san with some of the set up i think."

"so what time do we need to get there?" you ask as you work on vi's make up. "keep your eyes closed, baby."

"ok mommy."

"um, we might need to leave soon," jen barely answers your question.

"that's vague."

"we should leave in fifteen minutes."

"shit, ok," you mumble, then you catch yourself. "jen, can you find my purse? put a quarter in the jar on the counter please."

"two," violet corrects you. "you said the fuck word when the elastic in my hair snapped."

"violet!" you and jen screech.

"now you need to put a quarter in the swear jar," jen jokes, but you have to lecture violet on not using those words while you finish up her eye shadow. you ask her to purse her lips so you can do the lip gloss, and jen says, "she really looks like san, doesn't she?"

"yeah, she does," you smile proudly. "they're both pretty cute, huh?"

"if you have another kid do you think it'll look like you?"

"we'll have to wait and see i guess," you say as you cap the lip gloss. "vi, go like this," and you show her how to rub the lip gloss in. she gets it all over her lips, so you lick your thumb to wipe it off as she tries to squirm away. "alright, my turn. can you show jen where your shoes are baby? i'll finish getting ready if you can help her with shoes and maybe a jacket."

"on it," jen nods. "we gotta leave in ten!"

as promised, ten minutes later, you and violet are in jen's car. you wanted the fun to continue for violet, so you've got music playing as jen speeds toward the school. she kept saying you weren't late, but the way she's driving you wonder if she's lying.

a few minutes later, you can see the school in the distance. you don't know why, but your stomach starts doing flips at the idea of seeing san. you know he's going to look great, so that's enough to make you all excited, but you're more interested in seeing what he's worked so hard on all week. you're staring at the gym as it gets closer, and then jen drives right past the school entirely.

"um, hello?" you call out. "earth to jen? we just passed the school."

"we're not going to the school," jen says simply. what's going on? you look to violet in the backseat, but she's staring out the window, kicking her feet the way you know she does when she's excited. you sit back with a "humph!" and watch as jen drives you to the park down the street. she pulls into the gravel lot and turns off her car before turning to you. "get out."

"what? jen, what is going on?" you ask, but jen is out of the car and won't respond. you're confused as hell, but you unbuckle your seatbelt anyway as jen gets violet out of her car seat. jen meets you at the back of her car, pointing off to the path in the distance.

"you need to go over there."

"i'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening," you stand firm.

"come on mommy!" violet chirps. she holds her tiny hand out to you, and you look to jen. she just smiles, so you take violet's hand and walk with her to the wooded path.

"baby, where are we going?" you ask, but violet shakes her head and mimes zipping her lips. can't argue with that, so you succumb to the circumstances and follow her lead. you're looking around, trying to catch any kind of clue. as you come over a hill, you see a clearing in the distance, and you gasp when you see what's waiting for you.

underneath an ivy covered arch stands san. he's dressed in his outfit for the dance, dark grey slacks and a vest with the light purple shirt underneath. he left his hair natural, how you like it, so the ends of his bangs just barely brush over his glittering eyes. he's smiling at you so brightly he could be the sun, and you look down to find violet smiling back at him the same way.

as you get closer, you notice the flower bushes are all violets. san must have brought more though, because there's flower pots and bouquets all around. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, admiring the soft scent flooding your senses. when you open your eyes, san is approaching you shyly, and violet squeezes your hand. you squeeze back even tighter.

"hi gorgeous," he greets you, his voice soft and quiet, like he doesn't want to disturb this moment. he leans in to kiss your cheek, then kneels and says to violet, "you look beautiful, my love. thank you for your help."

"you knew about this?" you ask violet, and she looks to san before she responds.

"YES! daddy told me all these secrets and said mommy can't know, and if i pinky promised not to tell then he would get me the princess bed i want," she explains rapidly, and you look to a sheepish san.

"i'm not proud of the bribe, but she did a good job. you had no idea?"

"san, what is this?" you ask in a nervous whisper. he lifts violet into his arms and then offers you a hand. as he walks you over to a bench beneath the ivy arch, he begins.

"this was my favorite park as a kid," he says as he sits you down and carefully places violet between you. he holds onto your hand as he speaks, his thumb stroking over your knuckles softly. "and when i moved back here after college, this was the first place i came. i missed you so much already, and i needed someplace to clear my head. i found myself here a lot, actually. i would walk the entire path just thinking about you, wondering how you were, wondering if i should reach out, try to make things right. it became a habit. i'd come here every time i missed you, and i wouldn't leave until i got you off my mind. then, out of nowhere, you show up at school. i noticed you, that first day. i noticed violet," and as he says her name he boops her nose. over her giggles, he continues.

"i saw her walking in and thought, man, that kid sure looks like me," san smiles sadly, and you squeeze his hand. "so as soon as school ended, i was over here, pacing and wondering again how i could reach out. then i caught you parking in the wrong spot-"

"i didn't know where else to go!" you defend yourself, and san chuckles.

"you not knowing where to go worked in my favor, because it was like someone shouting in my face, hey! here she is! don't lose this chance! so i knew i had to wiggle my way back into your life somehow. it wasn't until you mentioned violet, her name, that i felt something inside me. again, i came back here, to this spot, and thought about what to do. as i sat here, i noticed all the violets around me, and i knew. i've always thought we were meant to be together, but that day i knew for sure. i wanted to be in your life. in violet's life. forever."

"and ever," violet whispers, making you and san both laugh. as you quiet down, you stare at san, and that warm feeling you get in his presence rushes over you. finally, you think. finally finally finally.

it's like san can read your mind, because he nods before tugging you back up to your feet. violet holds onto your hand as you both watch san reach into his pocket, and even though you knew it was coming, it still takes your breath away. san kneels, holding out a velvet box. he takes a deep breath and says, "y/n. my love. my best friend. you're the love of my life, and i can't imagine our story ending any other way. will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? will you marry me, finally?" he opens the box to reveal the perfect ring, and you're nodding before you can even speak.

you look at san's glistening eyes, his happy smile, and you cry out, "yes, san, oh my god, yes, i'll marry you." san pulls you down to smash his lips into yours, but you can barely keep the smile off your face long enough to actually feel his lips against yours. you end up kneeling in front of san, wrapping him in the tightest hug as you start to cry. you feel violet's tiny arms working their way around you both, so you separate and cover her in kisses to her delighted giggles. you hug them both, holding onto your family so tight it almost hurts.

"wait, wait!" san cries out. "the ring! gimme your hand!"

you present your left hand to him as he takes the ring out, and you love the way it glitters in the setting sunlight. he slides it onto your ring finger, interlocking his hand with yours. as you admire your hand in his, you hear cheers off in the distance.

you look around to find jen and wooyoung just outside the clearing. wooyoung is holding a camera, and jen is smiling like she just pulled off the heist of the century. as they get closer, violet runs over to jen and they jump and squeal, something about secrets and another bribe you'll have to learn about later.

"so everyone knew about this but me?" you ask san, and he brushes hair behind your ear as jen and wooyoung join you.

"sorry, but that's the way it had to be," san shrugs.

"you were so surprised," wooyoung says, "i can't wait to edit these pictures, i think i got a really funny one of you when he pulled the ring out."

"i'll make sure he only keeps the good ones," jen cuts in, but you shake your head.

"you send me every single picture you took," you say sternly, and wooyoung salutes you as he says, "aye aye mrs. choi!"

"oh my god," you turn to san then. "i'm gonna be your wife."

"yeah you are," he smiles proudly. "'bout time."

"oh, what time is it?" you ask. "don't we need to go to the dance?"

"baby, there is no dance," san admits. "i made that up so you wouldn't be suspicious of all the calls and errands without you."

"you sneak," you slap his arm. "and involving our daughter!"

"we got you," violet giggles, looking up at you as she wraps her hands around your legs. you pinch her nose and she squeals.

"well, what do we do now?" you ask. "i don't know what engaged people do."

"i've got an idea," wooyoung says suggestively, and jen groans.

"actually, i was going to take us to dinner," san says, reaching for you and violet. "we need to celebrate!"

"that's our cue to leave," jen says to wooyoung, but san stops them.

"nope," he shakes his head. "you helped. i owe you dinner."

"well if you insist," wooyoung smiles, wrapping his arm around jen. you all start walking back to your cars, jen and wooyoung ahead of your family. you and san are walking with violet between you, hands swinging happily.

"hey," san whispers, and you find his handsome face smiling at you. "are you happy?"

"happier than i've ever been, san."

"good," he nods. "sorry for all the secrets, though."

"whatever," you brush it off. "but, uh, i guess i have a secret of my own to share?"

san stops in his tracks, worry in his eyes. jen and wooyoung stop too, hearing the lack of footsteps behind them. everyone is watching you, and you look at each of them with a growing smile on your face. you end with san, and you blush as you say, "my love, my husband to be, i'm pregnant."

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 4 months

Text

Melon Pang! (PART ONE) — CEO Choi Seungcheol

✧ The second chapter — Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series

The last thing Seungcheol expected was to argue with a random stranger in a bakery after an awfully stressful day. But how could he not when this person was about to take the last melon pan? You were in a similar position. Your boss had been nagging you non-stop at work, and all you wanted was your favorite snack, followed by a movie marathon on the couch. Instead, you find yourself having to deal with this stubborn guy who thinks the whole world is his.

✧ Genre: CEO au; coffee shop au; SMUT (in part two), fluff, angst, slow-burn, strangers to lovers ♥ Pairing: barista!reader x managing CEO!Choi Seungcheol ✧ Word count: 32k+ ✦ Warnings: swearing, many petty arguments between the reader and Cheol, stubborn Cheol, stubborn reader, power abuse (reader’s boss is an ass), time skips, several long flashbacks (let me know if I missed any!) ♕ Shout out: thanks again to @fugaciousserendipity for your input, and a special thank you to the wonderful @wongyuseokie for beta-reading for me, as well as hyping me the fuck uuuuup!!! love you, muah 💜 and thanks @outromoni for the banner!

✎ Notes (please read before sending me any questions!): 1) this is only the first part of the chapter since it's going to be waaaay longer than I anticipated LOL. also means that this is only the beginning and you will probably have many many questions at the end. but I promise, part two will be gooooood hehe 🤭; 2) there are some snippets from Wonwoo’s chapter since it takes place at the same time, so I advise you to read Don't Tell The Boss if you don't want to get confused; 3) the chapter is written from the perspective of Seungcheol AND reader; 4) I just want to clear something up in case people have questions about it: the snack I'm referring to in the chapter is a melon pan (a Japanese snack), but I named the chapter melon pang! since it's a wordplay on the seventeen song Pang! 🥰

Seungcheol felt like absolute shit after the day he’d just had. Between him having to yell at the HR team for fucking up some important documentation and finding a piece of jewelry that looked suspiciously like the one he’d gifted his sister at Wonwoo’s place, he felt like he’d gone through almost every single emotion in one day, even a few he didn’t know existed until today.

That’s why after providing some final feedback on Wonwoo’s quarterly report – which he’d promised to read before the end of the day – he packed up his things and headed towards his favorite bakery that was located near the SEVENTEEN World HQ. It was already 9.30 PM, but if he hurried a little bit, he’d be just in time to grab a snack before closing time at 10 PM.

Even before SEVENTEEN World had been established, JamJam was the bakery that Seungcheol frequented whenever he needed a little treat. In his case, that was usually a melon pan, the CEO’s number one comfort food.

Especially after going through something stressful, the soft and fluffy interior of the melon pan combined with its cookie-like crust, was enough to make him momentarily forget about his worries.

JamJam just so happened to have the best ones in Seoul. Flavor Factory SEVENTEEN also produced their version of the melon pan, but in Seungcheol’s opinion, that one didn’t even come close to the ones at JamJam. Of course, no hate towards Mingyu. The guy knew how to make tasty food, but he wasn’t going to win this battle, no matter how hard he tried to improve his recipe – the blind tastings that the chef had made his Hyungs sit through over the years proved again and again that JamJam’s melon pan was still the number one in the city.

With a mask disguising most of his face, Seungcheol exited his car and quickly crossed the road before entering the small but cozy bakery.

After quickly greeting the owner, Mr. Hashimoto, at the counter, he hurried towards the back of the store, where he knew the melon pan was usually located. Seungcheol was aware that it was late and that there was a chance that his favorite snack would already be gone, but he still had a little bit of hope. In the worst-case scenario, he’d end up eating a cream pan or some shokupan instead.

As he neared the familiar bread baskets, he spotted exactly what he was looking for, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a single melon pan that had been left behind.

“Thank God,” he mumbled, slightly speeding up his steps to get to it.

However, the CEO wasn’t aware of the fact that there was another person in the store looking for that same sweet Japanese bread, which is why it came as a total surprise when someone else beat him to it, snatching the treat away just mere seconds before he’d been able to grab it.

Seungcheol was in shock, furiously blinking as he tried to process what had just happened. His eyes slowly fixated on the woman who was currently holding onto his snack.

Now, he did say not too long ago that he would be fine settling for another snack if he couldn’t get ahold of a melon pan, but that was before it was practically ripped away right in front of his eyes.

Was he overreacting? His friends would probably tell him that he was. Did he care? No, he absolutely did not, not after the horrible day he’d had.

—

A movie marathon, your favorite snack and a relaxing evening on the couch. That was your plan for tonight. No worries, no stress, just a bunch of fictional characters fighting bad guys in an alternative universe – anything sounded better than having to deal with the world you were living in.

In the real world, you had to deal with your piece-of-shit boss who had once again managed to ruin your day. Today, he’d nagged you for not working fast enough, and as a punishment, he made you clean, restock, and close the shop all by yourself – turning your original 8-hour shift into a 10-hour one.

Then there was your male co-worker, Sanghoon, who’d been allowed to go home early, just because he’d “done such a good job today”. Right. What job? Being lazy and careless? You’d been doing most of the work at the coffee bar, which included fixing Sanghoon’s mistakes, for as long as you could remember.

How the guy had gotten a job at a coffee bar was a mystery to you. For someone who worked as a barista, he sure sucked at making coffee. There wasn’t a day that went by without a customer coming to you to complain about their coffee tasting like shit. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them because it really was that bad. You’d tasted Sanghoon’s coffee before and had almost thrown up at the taste of the overly bitter and sour liquid he’d produced.

So, for the sake of the company image and the customers, whenever time allowed for it, you prepared the majority of the orders.

As if that wasn’t enough, his lazy ass also refused to clean anything properly aside from occasionally wiping down the tables, sweeping the floors, and starting the automatic cleaning program on the coffee machines.

You were the only one busting your ass to make sure that everything was always in pristine condition – because no one wanted crusty-ass coffee. It sometimes made you wonder whether all of your hard work was worth it because it seriously felt like you were running the whole shop by yourself.

Still, that wasn’t even the worst, though. No. The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that your incompetent co-worker constantly kept messing up orders left and right. At one point it, got so bad that you felt the need to double-check every single order he touched before it could even reach the customer.

There had been one incident where a customer had asked for oat milk because she was allergic to regular milk. Sanghoon, who had been in charge of preparing orders that day because you already had too many things to do, had completely disregarded the comments attached to the order and prepared the latte with regular milk.

In other words, it ended with the customer needing her EpiPen, a nasty lawsuit, and your boss screaming at you for being a “useless disgrace to the company” without even listening to your side of the story – all while Sanghoon just stood there and let you take the fall for his carelessness.

Very quickly, you learned that the guy really didn’t give a shit about any of it. He knew that when the occasion called for it, you’d be there to pick up his mess, and it infuriated you to no end. You hated yourself for putting up with it every single time, but you also knew that if you just sat back and let it happen, the shop would be out of business, and your boss would find a way to blame you for the whole thing.

Besides, even if your boss caught him slacking, he still treated him like a goddamn star player, always overlooking his failures and praising him for doing the absolute bare minimum. But God forbid if you made even the tiniest mistake. Your boss would immediately let you hear about it, even if that meant criticizing you in front of the customers – it was fair to say that you hated the man with a passion.

At least JamJam, your favorite bakery in town, had never disappointed you.

That was proven again when your eyes spotted the last melon pan, lifting your mood almost immediately. You nearly did a little happy dance after you’d taken it out of the basket, but then quickly decided against it when you noticed the CCTV camera pointing straight at you. Now was not the time to embarrass yourself in public.

“Excuse me?” You turned around at the sound of a male voice, assuming that he was talking to you since the bakery was pretty much empty at this hour.

“Can I help you?” you asked wearily, raising your eyebrows at the blond man who had approached you – the mask he was wearing covered most of his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. And seeing as you’d gone through your fair share of uncomfortable encounters with strangers, it was only natural for you to have your guard up.

To your surprise, he pointed towards the hand that was holding the snack you were planning on buying. “Would you mind giving me that melon pan?” he asked. “I really need it tonight.”

Your weary expression slowly morphed into a confused one as you raised the sweet bread slightly. “This... melon pan?” you asked, wondering where this was going.

The stranger nodded. “Yes, that one. I just got off from work, and I’ve had a pretty rough day, so I need it. It’s my favorite snack, and I’m not planning to leave the store without it.”

You almost wanted to laugh at the audacity of this guy. As if you would hand it over just because he supposedly ‘needed’ it. It wasn’t your problem that you’d been faster.

“Well, it happens to be my favorite snack too, and I’ve also had a pretty rough day, so no. I’m not giving it to you.”

“Oh, come on. What’s it going to take? Name your price,” he motioned before reaching into his pocket to pull out what you assumed was his wallet. What the hell was he doing?

“I just told you I’m not giving you this melon pan,” you responded firmly – your free hand automatically squeezed into a fist as you tried to keep your blood pressure under control.

Getting into an argument with some random stranger was not part of the relaxing evening you’d planned.

“And I said, name your price. Everyone has one. How much do you want for it? Fifty thousand won? A hundred thousand? More? Just tell me. Money is not an issue,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his wallet now wide open for you to see.

His outrageous proposition left you in a state of awe. The disgust was no doubt evident on your face, but he didn’t seem to care one bit.

“Are you seriously trying to bribe me for a fucking melon pan?!”

Judging by the way he was dressed, you were pretty certain that the guy was loaded – the combination of the dark brown suit and black coat he was wearing probably cost more than what you earned in a whole month.

Regardless, that didn’t give him the right to treat others like garbage.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t look like he was. “You have something that I want. You’re not giving it to me, so I’m offering you an alternative that will make both of us happy,” he stated, completely oblivious to the fact that he was coming off as an entitled asshole.

“You are so unbelievably rude,” you scoffed. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and entitled as you. Just wow. If that’s how you treat people in your life, then you probably don’t have many friends.”

It was clear that your words had struck a nerve when the shameless stranger narrowed his eyes in response.

“I’m rude? I think you are pretty rude to someone who’s just trying to reason with you. Trust me, if you had any idea who I was, you wouldn’t be speaking to me like that.”

Oh, look, he’s a narcissist too... surprising.

“Listen, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I’m going to say this one time. I don’t give two shits about who you are, and I’m not giving you my melon pan, so you can keep your damn money. Now, I’m going to walk away, pay for my snack and leave so that this,” you motioned between the two of you, “doesn’t escalate into something worse. Have a good life,” was the last thing you said before rushing towards the checkout.

Your blood was boiling by the time you left the store. The whole encounter with the rude stranger had put another damper on your mood, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Because just who the fuck did he think he was? And what kind of weirdo would try to bribe someone for a melon pan?

You truly hoped to never see him again.

—

Once again, Seungcheol was left frozen in his spot, watching as the woman who’d just outright disrespected him walked away with what was supposed to have been his snack.

If he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, then this was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He was a grumbling mess as he left the store with a bag full of goods. Mr. Hashimoto, who had most likely heard the whole dispute, had been nice enough not to say anything about it. Instead, he’d given Seungcheol some additional cream pans and some of his homemade nama chocolate on the house in an attempt to cheer up the sulky CEO. Very kind, of course, but any appetite Seungcheol had before coming to JamJam was now completely ruined as a result of the squabble.

On the drive home, his mind kept going back to the insults you’d thrown at his face. Rude? Ignorant? Entitled? Ha! Who were you to say that about him?

Seungcheol considered himself anything but that. He had plenty of good friends who liked him for who he was, whereas you, some random stranger who didn’t even know him, had literally made those assumptions based on the few minutes that he spent in your presence.

He didn’t really want to admit it, but your words kept bugging him. Why? That probably had something to do with you being the first one ever to tell him that to his face. Seungcheol was so used to people treating him with nothing but respect – well, that is, if you take the other twelve CEOs out of the equation – that he hadn’t expected such resistance from a stranger like you.

But then again, you hadn’t been able to recognize him with his disguise, and he liked to keep it that way. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if reporters got wind of this humiliating incident.

When Seungcheol finally entered his apartment around 11 PM, he was immediately greeted by a little white ball of fur happily sprinting his way, her tail wagging and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she jumped at his legs.

“Hello, sweet girl. I’ve missed you,” he cooed, reaching down to lift up the small, adorable dog who was all too excited to be reunited with her owner after a long day. “I take it you’ve missed me too, Kkuma,” he smiled brightly, which was immediately followed by a chuckle as she enthusiastically licked his face.

With Seungcheol being managing CEO and having a busy schedule that often kept him away for longer periods of time, he usually had a dog sitter he trusted come around the house to feed her and take her on walks. He hated leaving her alone, and it hurt him to be away from her, but with the duties he needed to fulfill, he really had no choice.

That’s why he always made it his priority to spend as much time as possible with her whenever he didn’t have any work or social activities to attend. Seungcheol liked being around people, which shouldn’t be surprising as it was a big part of his job, but nothing beat the feeling of coming home to Kkuma and her unconditional love for him.

No matter what, Kkuma always had the ability to put a smile on Seungcheol’s face. She’d witnessed both the good and the bad over the many years that she’d been with him. And even though she couldn’t understand ninety-nine percent of the things her owner told her – rants included – she was always happy to listen to him.

Kkuma was like his own form of therapy, his safe place that brought him comfort when he needed it.

“Let’s call Jeonghan and tell him about the mean woman who took my snack, hmm?” he proposed after having dropped the JamJam bag off in the kitchen and taking a seat on his ginormous couch – Kkuma was now comfortably tucked against his chest, recovering from the energy burst she’d had at seeing Seungcheol.

“This better be urgent. I was about to sleep,” Jeonghan’s tired voice sounded as soon as he answered the call.

“Well, it’s urgent to me.”

“Oh jeez, here we go.” The other CEO released a sigh of exasperation, knowing that he wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon.

Seungcheol’s eyes rolled at his friend’s dramatics. “Don’t be like that. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

“I doubt it.”

“Anyway, you won’t believe what just happened to me,” Seungcheol started, choosing to ignore Jeonghan’s disinterest in the matter. “I had a shitty day, so I went to JamJam, and then this woman just snatched the last melon pan right in front of my eyes! I tried to tell her that I really needed it, but she wouldn’t give it up.”

“Obviously. Can’t blame her,” Jeonghan yawned.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw in frustration at the CEO’s disregard. “Just let me finish. That’s not the worst thing. I even offered to give money in exchange for that melon pan, bu-”

The man on the other side of the phone was suddenly wide awake. “Wait, wait, wait, hold on. Did I hear that right? You offered her money for a snack?!”

“Yes! But what did I get in return? She called me rude, ignorant and entitled. And for what? I was being nice about it and gave her a way to earn some easy money.”

Jeonghan released a deep sigh at the other man’s words. “Cheol, you can’t just go around bribing people to get whatever you want.”

“Why not? It seemed pretty reasonable to me. Besides, who doesn’t want money in this economy?” Seungcheol shrugged, even though the other CEO wasn’t able to see.

“Are you really that oblivious? Of course you’re going to get cussed out if you do stupid shit like that. It makes you sound like an asshole.”

That earned a scoff from the managing CEO. “So, what you’re saying is that I was wrong, and she was right to be so disrespectful?”

“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If that were me, I would have wiped the floor with your ass.”

“Yah! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side? You’re my best friend.”

“Exactly. I’m your best friend, so I get to call you out on your bullshit. This is one of those instances. You need to realize that not everything can be solved with money, Cheol.”

“Ugh, whatever. You know what? Just go to sleep. I don’t need you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”

The last thing Seungcheol needed right now was a lecture from Jeonghan.

“Cheol, come on. You’re being stubborn right now, and you know it.”

“Goodnight, Jeonghan.” Seungcheol ended the call right after that, not even bothering to wait for his friend’s response. “Is it too much to ask for some support?” he grumbled before directing his attention back to Kkuma.

She was now lying in his lap, looking up at him with big, curious eyes. Seungcheol smiled in response, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head, which was answered with some enthusiastic tail wagging.

“At least I can count on my sweet girl, right?

“Thanks, Haewon. I’ll check out a new place first, and then I’ll meet you as soon as I can.”

Seungcheol ended the call with his secretary, who’d just informed him that his favorite coffee place had closed down for good. She was usually the one who got his coffee in the mornings, but now that his usual spot was unavailable, he needed to find a new place that would be able to meet his standards. And since Seungcheol tended to be quite picky when it came to his daily fix of caffeine, Haewon knew better than to get him a random coffee from a place he hadn’t approved of.

“What’s a good place?” he mumbled to himself as he scrolled through a large list of Seoul’s best coffee places.

There were lots of coffee spots to choose from, but none of them were special enough to catch the CEO’s eyes.

The majority of the highly rated ones were either too hipster or too tacky for his taste, whereas several of the ones that looked rather nice had a large number of negative reviews that made him think twice about visiting.

After a good ten minutes of scrolling, Seungcheol was starting to lose hope. He was supposed to be at a meeting in a little bit over an hour and if he didn’t have a decent cup of coffee to start the day off with, he would be in a bad mood for the rest of it. And with how yesterday had ended, he really wanted today to be different – at this rate, that wasn’t going to happen.

At least, that was until he came across a place called Oh My! Coffee. It was a small but cozy-looking vintage coffee bar located on the outskirts of Seoul, which Seungcheol thought was great since there would be less traffic holding him back. Plus, most of the reviews he’d read were both recent and extremely positive about the quality of the coffee.

Apparently, it was enough to convince Seungcheol to go check it out because before he knew it, he’d started the engine of his luxurious sports car and made his way to the coffee bar.

The place looked exactly like the pictures he’d seen on Naver. The facade of the coffee bar was completely made out of oak wood, with vines of purple and pink flowers decorating the two large see-through doors to contrast the dark color of the oak.

Inside, the lights had been slightly dimmed to create an elegantly subtle glow of orange, which – combined with the soft jazz music playing in the background – gave the whole place a pleasant and relaxing ambiance.

Various vintage items adorned the walls of the cozy, homey shop, and though there wasn’t a lot of space, with the strategic way in which the small wooden tables had been set up, it was enough to accommodate a couple of coffee lovers who wanted to enjoy their beverage in a picturesque setting.

Seungcheol was already in love with the place, and he hadn’t even tried the coffee yet. Judging from the mouthwatering, smoky coffee aroma that invaded his nostrils as soon as he stepped inside, he was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to be disappointed.

But then his eyes fell on the barista, who was standing behind the counter, seemingly lost in her own world as she cleaned her workspace.

The CEO froze in his spot, his heart rate picking up at the sight that greeted him because it was no one other than you, the stranger who had disrespected him and ruined what should have been a nice evening with his favorite snack.

He never planned on seeing you again after last night, and he certainly didn’t plan to end up at the coffee bar you worked at. How could fate have been so cruel to lead him right back to you when all he wanted was a peaceful morning and a good cup of coffee? That was definitely not going to happen if you recognized him.

That thought immediately got Seungcheol into gear. A sudden boost of energy rushed through his body as he tried to be as subtle as possible. His feet were moving backwards, slowly taking him back towards the large double doors through which he had entered not too long ago.

He almost succeeded, but due to his poor spatial awareness, he managed to hit the heel of his black Derby shoe against the door – the sound it created was loud... too loud for you not to hear it.

“Oh, hi there! Can I help you with something?”

Your cheery tone surprised the CEO, mainly because it was a complete one-eighty from last night, where you’d sounded anything but happy. But here you were, smiling away like you hadn’t just told him that he was rude, ignorant, and entitled. It was almost as if...

She doesn’t recognize me.

“If you need some time to look, that’s fine. But I can also give you some recommendations if you’re not sure what to get,” you continued, that bright smile still adorning your face.

Seungcheol didn’t know whether to be relieved or creeped out by it.

Still, against his better judgment, he decided to play dumb and pretend like he didn’t know you. He was already running late, and he needed coffee, so what did he have to lose?

Clearing his throat, he carefully made his way to the counter before scanning his eyes over the large menu that hung on the wall behind you.

“Could I, uh, have a cafe latte?”

“Sure! Small, medium, or large?” you asked, your fingers hovering above the register as you waited for his response.

“Medium is fine, no sugar.”

“Hot or cold?”

“Hot.”

“Anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

You nodded, looking away briefly to finalize his order before pointing to a second screen that showed his total. “That will be 4,700 won, please.”

“Do you accept card too?” Seungcheol asked while fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

—

“Yes, we do,” you answered, stopping in your tracks as your eyes fixated on the man’s wallet.

Wait. That wallet…

“Great! Here you go then.” And that voice… no fucking way.

You swiftly shifted your gaze back to the man’s face. When you’d first spotted him standing in the shop, you thought that there was something familiar about him – you just hadn’t been able to pinpoint it. But everything suddenly clicked as you took him in again.

The blond hair, the dark brown almond-shaped eyes, the goddamn wallet that he’d so brazenly taken from his pocket in an attempt to bribe you.

He was wearing a blue suit instead of the dark brown one he’d worn yesterday, and his black coat had been replaced by a brown one that looked even more expensive. Even his white mask had been switched out for a black one. Still, there was no doubt in your mind that it was him… Melon pan dude.

How in the hell had he ended up here… at your place of work of all places?

“Aren’t you going to take it?” he questioned, tilting his head quizzically when you still hadn’t taken the credit card that he was holding out.

“Right,” you grumbled before snatching the card right out of his hand rather harshly.

Any type of joy you’d felt at the prospect of getting to make another one of your coffee creations had disappeared as soon as you realized who you’d be making it for.

“Yah! What the hell?” the man exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at your action. “Is this how you treat your customers?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked him dead in the eyes as you swiped his card. “Only the ones that deserve it.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” you replied, your voice void of any emotion as you calmly placed his card back onto the counter.

You knew damn well that if your boss caught you treating any customer this way, he’d give you hell for it. But you just couldn’t help it. Even though you’d only met the man yesterday, he already managed to evoke such extreme emotions from you that you couldn’t just stay silent and pretend like he wasn’t a total prick.

The stranger scoffed as he slid his credit card back into his wallet. “You know, I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Do you think I’d willingly go to a place where the staff doesn’t even respect me?”

“Then why are you here? Plenty of coffee places to choose from,” you retorted, turning around briefly to start on his coffee. He did pay for it after all – the sooner you got it done, the sooner he’d leave you alone.

“It’s nice to know you’re rude both at and outside of work,” the man sneered.

You chuckled bitterly at his words as you worked on his beverage. “Oh, so now you’re calling me rude? Isn’t that a little hypocritical for someone who tried to bribe me for a fucking snack?”

“I’m not reliving this bullshit again,” he snapped.

“You asked for it,” you said nonchalantly as you turned back around, the milk you’d just steamed in your right hand and the cup of coffee in your left hand.

“When the hell did I- You know what? Just give me what I came for, and I’ll be out of here... for good,” he sneered.

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more,” you grumbled, feeling this close to throwing the hot drink in his face with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through your body.

It was tempting, but you really didn’t want to ruin your life and end up in jail for assaulting someone who wasn’t even worth your time and energy.

“Good. Hurry up then.”

Your jaw clenched at his demanding tone, but you chose to ignore it for now. Instead, you focused on the tulip you were trying to create. You’d thought about pouring the milk into the shape of a middle finger but decided against it when you realized that he might use that to ruin the company name – you wouldn’t put it past him to call you out on social media.

You had hoped that he would have taken the coffee and left without another word, but of course, he had to ruin that scenario by opening his mouth to start something... again.

“Let’s see if this coffee is really as good as the reviews say. I doubt the barista they were talking about was you,” he snickered as he grabbed a lid and a sleeve for his cup.

“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers clenching around the counter as you tried to keep it together for just a bit longer. Two could play that game, though. “Well, just so you know, the melon pan I got was delicious,” you emphasized, watching in delight as his cocky expression morphed into one of anger at your mention of the melon pan.

Serves him right.

“Whatever,” he huffed with a glare directed your way. “I’m out of here,” was the final thing he said before turning around and storming away with his fresh coffee.

“Oh, oh,” you whispered to yourself as you noticed your boss enter not even two seconds after the stranger had stormed out of the shop. And he did not look happy.

“What the hell was that? Did you just piss off one of our customers?”

You averted your gaze down, mentally preparing yourself for the scolding that was about to come. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t? So, you’re telling me that man didn’t just storm out of here, huh?” He was standing right next to you now, a little too close for your liking.

“I guess he wasn't in the best mood,” you mumbled, praying that he'd just let you off with a warning.

“Not the best mood, huh? How many times have I told you to treat our customers with respect? Do you even want to keep your job?” he hissed as he slammed his hands down on the counter, the unexpected sound making you flinch in your spot.

“I do,” you responded, gritting your teeth in frustration.

“Then act like it for once. You better hope that he doesn't write us a bad review because that will be on you. Am I clear? We should be lucky if he still wants to come back here after your shitty service. Sanghoon would never act like this.”

You couldn't suppress the scoff that you were holding at his ridiculous statement. Yes, you admit that you could have been more professional to the stranger, but it had been a special circumstance, and you’d acted a little out of character. But to compare you to Sanghoon like that? Ha! All your incompetent co-worker ever did was get on your nerves and sit on his ass while he typed away on his phone. So yes, of course, he would never act like that when you were doing all the work he was getting paid for.

“You think this is a fucking joke, Y/N?”

“No, Sir,” you muttered, almost wanting to slap yourself for losing control of your emotions in front of your boss.

“Let's see if you think this is funny. Count this as your last warning. If I catch you treating any customer badly, you're out. I'm sick and tired of your shit, so let this be a lesson. Fix that attitude, or you're fired. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, deciding that speaking up would only make it worse. You couldn't afford to lose your job, not without a proper backup plan set in place.

“Good. Then get to work. You're on your own today.”

A frown made its way onto your face as you processed your boss’ words. “Sanghoon is not coming in?”

“What about being on your own don't you get? He took the day off. That's all you need to know.”

“Of course he fucking did,” you muttered under your breath as you got ready to start your chores for the day.

This was like the third time he'd taken a day off this month, leaving you with a shit ton of work to do on your own. You, however, were lucky if you managed to get one or two days off once every four months. Yes, you were aware that it wasn’t very ethical, but there was a reason you’d been putting up with this bullshit for so long.

It just so happened that Oh My! Coffee was among the highest-paying coffee shops in Seoul, believe it or not. Your boss was greedy and always looking for new ways to save or make money, but he at least had the common sense to compensate his employees adequately.

Any other person might have wondered why a man as greedy as him would willingly pay his staff more than the legally required minimum wage, but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was that your current salary allowed you to live comfortably – comfortable enough to put aside a small amount of money from time to time without having to worry about being able to afford your rent.

The offers you’d received from other coffee shops you’d applied for at the time had all been significantly less generous, which, naturally, had been the deciding factor for you to take the job at Oh My! Coffee. And now here you were, stuck with an asshole of a boss and a good-for-nothing co-worker – that is, if you could even really call him a co-worker at all.

Your situation was far from ideal. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t been trying to look for other options. Up till now, all your search attempts had resulted in disappointment because there really seemed to be no shop that was able to match or beat your current salary. Besides, no matter how hard things could get at times, you simply weren’t willing to sacrifice that little bit of financial freedom you had.

Unless you could find an opportunity that would improve your current financial situation, quitting your job was out of the question.

So, for the time being – as shitty as it was – your boss not giving you any proper days off was just another thing on the list to prove that he was a sexist piece of shit who loved to make your life a living hell.

“Y/N!” Now what? “Didn't I tell you to clean the windows properly last time? I want you to do it again. And there better not be a speck of dirt when I come back.”

“I'm on it!” you called, already dreading the fact that it was going to be another long and exhausting day.

The next morning, Seungcheol found himself standing in front of Oh My! Coffee once again, despite having promised himself that he’d never come back here. How did that happen? He blamed it on you and your damn good coffee.

Seungcheol hated to admit it, but the reviews about the vintage coffee bar hadn’t been wrong one bit. Even though the CEO thought you were extremely rude, the cafe latte you’d served him yesterday was no doubt the best coffee he’d ever tasted.

The nutty aroma, together with the subtle earthy undertones, gave the coffee a depth of flavor that he couldn’t get enough of. Every sip had been so smooth and rich, with a coffee-milk ratio that ensured a perfect balance of flavors – the sweetness of the milk had perfectly complemented the boldness of the coffee.

Although it went against his wishes, he did make some efforts to find a new coffee place – simply because he wasn’t looking forward to having yet another frivolous confrontation with you.

Similar to yesterday, he’d scrolled through the Naver list, checked out reviews, and finally stumbled upon another place that looked like it would meet his standards. However, after taking one sip of the beverage he’d ordered, he already found himself throwing the cup in the trash as soon as he’d exited the shop.

It was like you’d completely ruined any other coffee experience for him. He’d had a taste of your coffee, and there was no going back, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that there had to be other places like that out there. Seungcheol contemplated with himself for a good fifteen minutes before he finally gave in to his craving.

But as he stood in front of the large double doors again, he suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he made the right decision to come back here. Because why was he so willing to put himself into potentially another petty argument for a cup of coffee?

In any case, he could’ve just requested his secretary to get it for him, so why didn’t he? Why did he feel the need to pick it up himself and risk starting another squabble?

Was it because he suddenly preferred to experience the smell of freshly made coffee first-hand? Or was it because some part of him was looking forward to seeing you, the disrespectful stranger who didn’t seem afraid to stand up to him?

“No way,” he breathed with a shake of his head. “It’s definitely the coffee.” Nothing more, nothing less.

He would just get his coffee and leave before things could escalate.

“You’re back,” you exclaimed as soon as you noticed Seungcheol walk up to the register.

Unlike yesterday, you’d immediately recognized him without him having to utter a single word – he figured as much.

“Yeah, got a problem with that?” he mused with raised brows, preparing himself for one of your sassy comebacks.

Instead, you smiled brightly and shook your head. “No, not at all! We, uh, we’re glad you chose to come back.”

“Okay?”

Seungcheol was taken aback by your switch in attitude once again. You definitely recognized him. He was sure of that. So why were you suddenly pretending as if you didn’t have another argument yesterday? He’d at least expected some resistance from your side. It made him feel almost... disappointed. Or was it confusion he was feeling? Either way, it was odd, and it made him slightly uncomfortable for some unknown reason.

The sound of a throat clearing rather loudly pulled his attention away from you and towards the man who was standing to your left, his arms crossed and a look on his face that didn’t seem all too friendly – and it was definitely directed at you.

“And…,” Seungcheol turned his gaze back to you. “I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday. That wasn’t professional. I’m sorry,” you added, your voice tense and slightly raspy.

Based on the fact that you were struggling to get the words out, he assumed that your apology wasn’t voluntary and most definitely not sincere. His guess was that the man in the corner – whom Seungcheol guessed was your boss – had something to do with it. But since he hadn’t come here to cause any trouble, he decided to just go along with it for your sake and for the sake of his future coffees.

“Sure, no problem. Let’s just forget about it,” he nodded, his eyes flicking back between you and the other man, who had now moved to stand beside you. “Could I just get the same thing I ordered yesterday?”

Your body visibly relaxed at his positive response, so he knew that he’d made the right decision by not causing a scene right now.

“Of course.”

As the CEO was waiting for you to finish his coffee, he noticed that the man still hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Seungcheol asked, raising his brows at the man who obviously wanted something from him with the way he kept staring.

“No, no! I’m just really glad that you decided to come back. It’s such an honor to have you in my shop, Mr. Choi.”

The CEO was glad that he had no liquid in his mouth, or he would have spit it all out the moment his name was mentioned.

“You know who I am?” he asked, his eyes flicking to you for a second. Only you didn’t seem to be fazed by the revelation, your eyes not even once straying from the coffee you were working on.

Did you know him? Or did you just not care about who he was?

“Of course! How could I not recognize you? You’re the managing CEO of SEVENTEEN World. I’d be able to spot an icon such as yourself anywhere.”

Seungcheol frowned slightly, wondering if his disguise was really that bad. Perhaps it was time to start adding beanies to his wardrobe from now on.

“Uh, yeah. Well, I’d like to keep that on the down low if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, I totally understand. But no worries, Sir. My lips are sealed,” the man assured him, which was followed by a smile that looked too fake to be genuine. “Ah, how rude of me! I totally forgot to introduce myself. My name is Park Wonshik,” he bowed before continuing. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know, and we’ll make it happen.”

The CEO quickly had to mask the snort that threatened to escape with a cough. Who did this man think he was? Did he really believe that this little act of his was going to get him anywhere? Whoever told him that sucking up to one of Korea’s most successful businessmen was a good idea was dead wrong. If anything, it only put Seungcheol off and made him want to get out of there as soon as possible.

“I doubt I’ll need anything other than my coffee,” he finally said, his eyes shifting back to you in the hope the man would take the hint and drop whatever phony act he was putting on.

“Right! Your coffee. Y/N? How are you doing with Mr. Choi’s drink?”

The smile that had been on your boss’ face just seconds ago dropped immediately as soon as his attention turned to you, now replaced by a scowl that was anything but amicable.

You lifted your head briefly to glance at your boss. “It’s almost done, Sir,” you responded dully, seemingly unbothered by the look your boss was throwing your way.

It was almost as if you were used to this kind of behavior from him.

“Well, would you hurry it up already? We don’t have all day,” he sneered and relaxed his facial muscles before turning his focus back to the CEO. “Apologies, Sir. Y/N tends to be a bit slow sometimes, but I assure you that it will only take a moment,” he spoke, throwing him another fabricated smile as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Seungcheol was flabbergasted by the abrupt change in demeanor, unable to form a response in that moment. It made him wonder if the man even knew how ridiculous he looked – trying to come off as a well-established business owner who had his shit together when it was, in fact, obvious that he needed to work on his people skills.

Although you and the CEO weren’t on the best terms, he knew for a fact that spending less than five minutes on making a coffee did not equal being ‘slow’. Hell, even if it was, he’d happily wait for ten or twenty minutes if it meant he got to have another one of those mind-blowing lattes.

In Seungcheol’s eyes, anyone who treated their employees with disrespect was automatically guaranteed a spot in his bad books. From what he had seen of Park Wonshik in the few minutes he spent in the shop, the man was already well on his way to get there.

How the hell did you manage to put up with that on a daily basis?

—

You were trying not to let your boss get to you. Keyword: trying. But the man was making it nearly impossible with the way he was bossing you around in front of the one person you really didn’t want to see... Melon pan dude.

Why had he even come back in the first place? As far as you could remember, he’d made it abundantly clear that he would stay away “for good” after yesterday’s debacle, so what the hell was he getting at? Did he come back just to get a reaction out of you? If that was the case, then he was sure out of luck because he wouldn’t be getting any more fight out of you.

Your boss had drilled it into your head that he wouldn’t tolerate any more mistakes on your end, and you weren’t going to try and test his limit.

Just this morning, he’d made sure to remind you again after giving you another scolding as soon as you’d stepped foot into the coffee bar. Because not only had you offended and scared away a potential regular customer, you’d royally fucked up and offended “the one and only CEO Choi Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN World,” as your boss put it.

At first, you thought that he was talking out of his ass, but then it became clear that your crazy boss had actually scoured the CCTV footage for your little argument with the man. And apparently, he discovered that one of the outdoor cameras had managed to catch a glimpse of the CEO in front of his car, where he’d lowered his mask to take a sip of his coffee before taking off – that sight had been enough for your boss to put two and two together.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that your boss already knew all about the CEO and the SEVENTEEN World corporation. The man was a greedy fucker who would do about anything to get to the top, so scoring a billionaire as a regular was the equivalent of hitting the jackpot.

To think that he’d potentially lost such an S-Class customer as a result of your “shitty attitude” no doubt made him want to make your work life even more miserable than it already was. But how were you supposed to have known that your newfound rival was actually one of the most influential people in South Korea?

Of course, you’d heard of SEVENTEEN World. How could you not have when it was one of the biggest corporations out there and literally everywhere? You just hadn’t bothered to familiarize yourself with it and its CEOs because, well... why would you? It wasn’t something you were interested in, and you weren’t about to be either.

Honestly, you couldn’t give two shits about one of the CEOs coming to the shop. So what if he was famous? So what if he was filthy rich? In your eyes, he was still the rude stranger who’d tried to bribe you the other night. No amount of money or fame was going to change that.

You did have to admit that although you weren’t particularly happy to see him, a part of you was relieved that he’d returned for another coffee. It meant that your job was safe for now and that your boss had one less reason to hate you. But then again, that didn’t mean that he was going to stop criticizing you and making you look bad in front of customers. Of course, that would have been wishful thinking.

You’d already accepted that the universe hated you a long time ago, so you just had to suck it up for the time being.

At least Melon pan dude had taken the hint and let you off easy today. The last thing you needed right now was for the two of you to start another petty argument in front of your superior. Because with the way your boss was trying to kiss the CEO’s ass, you were pretty sure that even if the CEO were to provoke you again, he’d happily let him and then continue to blame you for upsetting the customer in the aftermath of it all.

Yeah, you weren’t about to let that happen. You’d finish the coffee and take your break without causing a fuss. Simple and easy, just how you liked it.

“Your coffee is done,” you finally announced, placing the steaming latte onto the counter under the watchful eye of your boss.

Similar to yesterday, the CEO grabbed a lid and a cup sleeve from the counter.

“Thanks,” he nodded, picking up his hot beverage.

“Enjoy it and have a nice day,” you responded with a polite nod before starting to move towards the back. You really needed a short break after all of this.

At the same time, your useless co-worker decided to return from his own morning break.

Going against company policy, he’d extended his official fifteen-minute break with an additional fifteen minutes. It was typical Sanghoon behavior, so you weren’t exactly surprised. He loved to bend the rules to do whatever the fuck he pleased, and your misogynistic boss just let him.

It wasn’t fair… not in the slightest, but what could you do? Complaining about it would only end up with your break time getting cut – yes, you were speaking from experience. So, over time, you’d just learned to appreciate any break you could get, no matter how short it was.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss interfered, putting himself between you and the door to prevent you from leaving.

“Taking my break?” you questioned with a frown, not at all liking his tone.

Somehow you already knew that this wouldn’t end with you having a few peaceful minutes to yourself.

He quickly shook his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his mouth at your question. “Oh no, you’re not. There’s still more than enough work for you to do before you can even think of taking a break. I need you to start sorting the inventory and do a deep cleanse while you’re at it.”

Was he fucking serious?

“Sanghoon was supposed to do that though,” you mumbled as you could feel your blood pressure start to increase with every second that passed.

“And I’m telling you that you’re going to do it instead. Sanghoon has more than enough important things to do.”

Important things? Yeah right. Then why is the useless idiot currently slouched on a chair with his face buried in his phone?

That’s what you were thinking, but definitely not what came out of your mouth.

“But, Sir. That’s just not fa-”

“Y/N. I don’t want to hear anything. Or do I have to remind you again that you’re already walking on thin ice? Just do your damn job for once without opening that big mouth of yours.”

You sighed, not having it in you to put up a fight. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Then get to it. I’ll come check on you later,” he said, stepping aside to let you through. “Oh! Mr. Choi! You’re still here? How’s the coffee? To your liking, I hope?”

Your head turned around so fast that you could have sworn you heard something snap in your neck. Based on the frown that had taken over the CEO’s face and the look he was giving your boss, you guessed that he’d just witnessed all of that.

Why was he still here?

“It’s...” his eyes met yours for a moment, “perfect,” he stated, his mask already back in place before you even had the chance to get a proper look at his face.

“Wonderful! We hope to see you back many more times!” your boss exclaimed loudly. “Y/N? Don’t you have something to do?” he asked, even though you knew it was anything but a question with the pointed look he threw your way.

“Right,” you muttered and reluctantly turned around without another word, mentally preparing yourself for the horrible assignment you were tasked with.

Still, you couldn’t stop the slight smirk from appearing as you made your way to the storage room. Knowing that you’d proved the cocky man wrong with your barista skills gave your ego enough of a boost to make the day just a bit more bearable.

In all your years of coffee making, no one had ever been able to resist your coffee. It was just that good. Yes, you knew you sounded a bit arrogant, but you wouldn’t be saying it if it wasn’t absolutely true – the power your coffee held was exactly what kept the place running.

On that note, you were fairly certain that you’d be seeing a lot more of each other from now on, whether you liked it or not.

Just as you had predicted, that was exactly what happened. In the days that followed, the CEO stopped by the coffee bar once a day – nearly always in the morning and always for the exact same order: a medium-sized cafe latte.

With you working six days a week and with Sanghoon being close to useless, encountering him was practically inevitable. Fortunately, for the most part, the two of you managed to be cordial with one another, aside from the occasional taunting remarks that the businessman threw your way. You knew that he was trying to get you to react to him because that was just who he was – a provocative little shit. But you couldn’t let yourself get carried away, not when you knew that your boss was watching your every move.

Ever since your superior had revealed that he used the camera feed to discover that Melon pan dude was, in fact, a rich businessman, you’d become even more conscious of how you behaved during work hours. Because who knows how many times he had already done this before?

Up until about a week ago, you believed that it had been a one-time thing. But of course, you should have known better.

After serving the last customers from the morning rush, your boss requested that you prepare his coffee and bring it to his office. You hadn’t thought anything of it because it wasn’t the first time you’d done so. However, what you didn’t expect to find was him casually reviewing the camera footage of you and the SEVENTEEN World CEO from two days prior – you knew that because of the purple hoodie you’d worn underneath your apron that day.

Although the discovery had shocked you at first, you couldn’t exactly say that you were surprised about any of it. It certainly explained how he always knew about everything that went on despite being present at the shop for only about half of your six-day workweek – God knows what that man did besides constantly bossing you around and ruining your mood.

Regardless, that didn’t make the whole thing any less creepy. Spying on your employees through the camera feed? What kind of crazy psycho shit was that?

The worst thing of all was that he hadn’t even tried to conceal it. If anything, it was almost like he’d wanted you to see it.

As soon as he noticed that you’d caught on with what he’d been up to before you showed up, he was all too happy to show you the setup, just so that he could let you know that he was “watching you” and that you should be thinking twice about “messing up or mistreating valuable customers.”

What he probably hadn’t realized was the fact that he’d also indirectly revealed the spots inside the shop that the cameras failed to capture. So, despite the burning hatred you felt for the man and his disgusting behavior, you had taken advantage of the moment and memorized every single one of them to the best of your ability.

Even though it didn’t help you get rid of the problem that was your meddlesome boss, at least it would allow you to hide whenever you needed a moment to breathe – or in the case of Melon pan dude, you were able to use the blind spots to temporarily drop the fake act and reciprocate his provocations with your own.

It was around the fifth day of him visiting the coffee bar when you got to ‘test’ one of said blind spots for the first time. And no, it definitely hadn’t been planned. But the CEO had managed to piss you off to the point where you felt like you had no choice but to snap and let him know that you were anything but happy with his stupid actions.

—

It was close to noon. The shop was pretty much empty at this hour, apart from the two regulars who were drinking their coffee in peace at their usual tables. Sanghoon was in the back doing God knows what while you were in the middle of restocking the coffee and milk supply.

You were ecstatic about the fact that your boss wouldn’t be at the shop today, which, for you, meant that no one would be screaming in your ear during quiet moments such as these. Instead, you were able to take advantage of the situation and enjoy the soothing jazz music playing in the background while you busied yourself with your small task.

As you softly hummed along to the melodic tunes, you subconsciously found your thoughts drifting to no one other than Melon pan dude.

Strangely enough, the man had yet to come in for his usual coffee order. Based on the majority of his previous visits, you’d established that he preferred to get his coffee early in the morning, right before the biggest morning rush.

But he was a CEO after all. Perhaps something important had come up? Or had he finally managed to find another place that served better coffee than you did?

The latter shouldn’t have bugged you as much as it did, but the thought of there being another barista in Seoul who could top your coffee creations was bringing out your competitive side. Then again, why did you even care? It was Melon pan dude you were talking about. Losing someone like him to the competition was definitely not something you were going to cry about.

Your boss, however, would probably be the only one crying about it – and then find a way to pin the whole thing on you.

“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” a familiar voice shook you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes flicked over to the person in question, their sparkling eyes staring right at you as it dawned on you who was standing on the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the devil.

The CEO’s blond hair was covered by an orange beanie that seemed to match perfectly well with the black coat he’d chosen to wear today. Similarly, his face was once again hidden behind a white mask, even though you were pretty sure that he was smirking based on the way his eyes scrunched up ever so slightly.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed but quickly composed yourself when you realized where you were.

Technically, he wasn’t wrong – you had been thinking about him – but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that.

As if he would need anything else to inflate that big ego of his.

The CEO chuckled in response and rested his hands on the counter to lean a little closer “Oh, come on. You can’t deny that you missed me at least a little bit,” he teased.

You cleared your throat in response, choosing to ignore his statement. Whatever had caused him to delay his coffee run was really none of your business. You had a job to do after all.

“What is it going to be today? The usual?”

“Yeah,” he said before turning his body slightly to let his eyes scan through the shop as you typed in the order. “Wait. I’ll drink it here. And add a glass of fresh orange juice and a piece of that red velvet cake while you’re at it,” he continued, pointing to the display left from the register.

“Ehm, sure?” you responded, surprised that he even wanted to stay when there was the risk of being spotted. What happened to staying low-key? “I’ll bring it out soon. Just take a seat.”

That alone should have been enough foreshadowing for what was about to happen. Because you should have known that your day was going to be ruined one way or another. If it wasn’t your boss or Sanghoon, then it had to be the cocky CEO who had decided to deviate from his usual morning routine.

“Your order,” you said after you had made your way over to the table he had chosen to sit at.

It was located at the very back of the shop, and fairly out of sight from anyone entering through the double doors due to the various plants and decorations surrounding the small table. You guessed it made sense that he would choose such a spot with him being well-known and all.

The man immediately looked up from his phone when you announced your presence. “Here. Let me help you with that,” he insisted as he put the device away.

Before you even had a chance to open your mouth in protest, he had already reached up to grab the cup of coffee from the serving tray you were holding.

The unexpected move caused all the weight of the remaining item to shift to the back of the tray, which would have been fine if you had been prepared – only you weren’t. And with your other hand holding the slice of cake you’d wanted to put down first, there was no way to stop the tray from toppling over.

You watched in horror as the large glass of orange juice tipped in your direction, the liquid spilling out of the glass and simultaneously staining your clothes, as well as the brand-new shoes that you had bought a few days ago with your hard-earned money.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glass continued to fall off the tray, shattering into a million pieces right at your feet. The harsh sound it created echoed through the nearly empty space, interrupting the cozy atmosphere and startling the two regulars who had been in their peaceful bubbles.

For the first few seconds that followed you didn’t say anything, your gaze fixated on the twinkling glass shards decorating the wooden floor. You were trying to determine if you hadn’t just imagined this whole scenario. It was all just a little too much to process for you at that moment. Was this karma’s way of finally catching up with you for taking that last melon pan? If so, you truly hoped that it would eventually make its way back to the man to ruin his day – it was only fair in your opinion.

Somehow, you managed to gather yourself and immediately turned around to apologize to the two customers for the noise before focusing your attention back on the businessman, whose eyes went big at the series of unfortunate events that had just occurred.

“What the hell, dude? Why did you do that?!” you exclaimed, all your etiquette thrown completely out the window the second you opened your mouth.

Fortunately for you, you quickly realized that you were standing right in one of the blind spots you’d memorized not too long ago. In other words, there was no reason for you to hold back the anger you felt coursing through your body.

“I was trying to help!” he gasped, holding up his hands in defense.

“Well, obviously you didn’t. Look at this!” You frantically motioned to your current state. “You don’t just take something off a tray when someone is holding it. That’s just common sense,” you grumbled, lifting one of your feet in an attempt to shake off the drops of orange juice that had landed on your white sneakers.

“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, his eyes taking in your drenched form.

Anyone who took a quick look at him might have thought that he felt bad for you with the way his hand was covering his mouth. But with you being so close in proximity and his mask now completely removed, you could see his face slowly beginning to turn red. That, together with the raised cheeks and the little shake of his shoulders made it fairly obvious that he was desperately trying to suppress his laughter.

“You think this is funny? Seriously dude? This is your goddamn fault,” you frowned as you placed the cake onto a nearby empty table and bent down to carefully collect some of the large shards of glass.

“I don't,” he shook his head, but couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Okay, maybe a little? I mean, it is kinda funny to see you like this,” he continued, his eyes scrunching up before he finally allowed himself to laugh.

“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, your hands slightly trembling from the adrenaline that was rushing through your body.

This man was definitely not good for your health – you could literally feel your blood pressure rising with every second that passed. How could he just sit there and laugh when you were clearly upset?

“I honestly don’t see why people idolize you. Amazing CEO, my ass.”

Your words caused his mood to do a complete one-eighty, the smile that had been on his face just a second ago now replaced with a glare that he directed your way.

“Hey! What does me being a CEO have to do with anything? It’s not my fault you can’t balance for shit,” he retorted.

Yep, you definitely hurt his precious little ego there.

“Well, maybe if you’d read the room and learned some manners, none of this would have happened in the first place.”

He chuckled bitterly in response. “Manners? Me? Says the one who keeps insulting the customer.”

“Oh, boohoo. Am I supposed to feel bad for you now? I have an actual job to do here if that wasn't obvious already,” you snapped as you put the pieces of glass you’d collected onto the tray you were still holding.

“You’re doing a pretty shitty job yeah,” he stated before nonchalantly sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t just offended you.

Although what you really wanted was to retaliate and cuss him out some more, you decided to bite your tongue for now. After all, the two regulars were still in the shop, and you couldn’t afford to let them see you completely go off on another customer. You had at least that much self-control. Instead, you briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath before opening your mouth again.

“You really don't know when to stop, do you?”

“I guess not, but that's what keeps things fun, right?” he smirked, which was followed by an obnoxious wink being sent your way.

The freaking nerve of this man was truly something. In all your years of living, you didn’t think you’d ever met anyone as impudent as him.

“I think we both have very different definitions of fun,” you mumbled, slowly rising up from your position on the floor with the tray that contained most of the glass shards.

The CEO took another sip of his coffee while he leaned back in his seat, a smug look taking over his features.

“Hmm, I’m not too sure about that. You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine in my presence.”

“I hate to ruin your little delusion, but if this is your idea of fun, I really don’t want to be part of it,” you said, but immediately cringed at the feeling of your pants clinging uncomfortably to the skin of your legs.

You’d already used your last set of spare clothing the week before – when you spilled coffee over yourself – so you were stuck in these clothes for now. The prospect of having to endure another six to seven hours in your ruined attire didn’t seem too appealing, but you guessed you had survived worse things – like your boss humiliating you in front of customers.

Something in your expression caused the man to wipe the smug look off his face, his features softening slightly. It was almost as if he suddenly realized that he had put you in this predicament and was being an ass about it.

“Alright, how about this? I’m feeling at least a little bit generous today, so why don’t you let me pay for the dry cleaning? Maybe some new shoes too?” he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.

You nearly wanted to scream at his absurd offer because had he really not learned his lesson? Why did the man think everything could be solved with money? It was as if that was his only way of fixing conflicts, which made you wonder if he was really that far removed from reality that he forgot about something as basic as normal human decency.

Just because you were working as a barista – a damn good one at that – didn’t mean that a little money would make you cave. Who did he think you were? Some charity that was in desperate need of his help? Yeah, no. You weren’t about to play his little game.

“There you go again with your damn money. I don’t need it, and I never will so stop offering it to me,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him to emphasize your point.

He sighed at your refusal and shrugged before drinking the last of his coffee. “Suit yourself. I was actually trying to be nice for once, you know?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his response. “Please. As if you know how to be nice.”

The man paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to come up with a solid reaction.

“I’m just going to ignore that little comment. Anyway, I have more important matters to take care of than to argue with someone who doesn’t even know me,” he finally stated with a shake of his head before putting his mask back in place and making a move to get up from his seat. “Good luck with that, yeah?” he taunted as he motioned to your ruined clothes and the mess on the floor.

It was only when the orange beanie had completely disappeared from your sight that you finally moved from your position. A soft but bitter chuckle escaped from your lips as you realized what had just transpired.

Who would have thought that you would be arguing with some big-shot CEO about a glass of orange juice in the middle of your workday? It was certainly not how you’d imagined your day to go, but here you were – stuck at work and reeking of orange juice while he could go about his day as if nothing had happened.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Sanghoon decided that he’d spent enough time in the back and appeared right at the same time you were throwing away the last bit of glass. At the sight of your ruined clothes, your co-worker couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What the hell happened t-to y-you?” he laughed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees for support.

You just rolled your eyes as you shoved past him, not even bothering to give him an explanation.

Having to deal with your incompetent co-worker making fun of you when you already felt like you were about to snap any minute was not something you were in the mood for. You just needed him to mind his business, do his fucking job and let you get through the day without any further incidents.

—

After that altercation, you had been less than thrilled to see Melon pan dude the following day. But surprisingly, he had kept his mouth shut when he came in for his morning coffee – thankfully to go this time.

You weren’t sure if it had anything to do with your boss being there or the fact that he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Either way, you were happy that it hadn’t come up again. However, that didn’t mean that you had forgiven him for it, especially when he was the reason your shoes were completely ruined, now permanently stained with the orange liquid. You’d tried everything to get it out of the material – from looking up stain removal tutorials to scrubbing for your life – but much to your disappointment, it had all been to no avail.

It was rare for you to splurge on yourself when you had so many bills to pay, so buying those shoes had been a nice little treat after a stressful week at work. That’s what made it all the more frustrating.

It was as if the universe was sending you yet another sign that you were definitely not the favorite... and apparently not allowed to have nice things.

Just like that time a few years ago when you’d gotten yourself a new laptop because your old one had officially died after eight whole years. Not even two days after you got it, you had already managed to break it by spilling water all over it. It had taken at least half of your paycheck to replace the damaged device.

Obviously, the shoes hadn’t been as expensive as the laptop, but the message was pretty clear: nice things never lasted when they were in your possession.

If you had to be honest, your ruined shoes weren’t the actual reason you were still so fired up about the whole incident. Not that you weren’t upset about your shoes – because you definitely were. You knew that spilling accidents were not uncommon in your line of work and that there would be a chance you’d get your shoes dirty. You just hadn’t expected it to happen the way it did, and to that extent, which brought you to the real issue at hand and also the source of your frustration: Melon pan dude and his ignorant attitude towards you.

How was it that a man could be so smart but so oblivious at the same time? At least, you assumed he had some brains because he did manage to become the head of an international empire that brought billions in revenue on a yearly basis. And as a result of that, you were fairly certain that he had dealt with his fair share of crises and stubborn businessmen.

So then how was he seemingly incapable of solving simple, mundane conflicts like a normal human being?

You had to admit that you were slightly biased and probably not the most cooperative person when it came to the CEO, but anyone with a set of brains could see that the fame had gotten to his head with the way he flaunted his wealth.

You had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. You really had. It was just that with each visit that followed the orange juice incident and each provocation that left his mouth, you finally came to the conclusion that the two of you were just on completely different levels and would never be able to see eye to eye on anything except for coffee.

Coffee was probably the only thing you were ever going to agree on.

Speaking of coffee, there had been a few times when you thought of messing with his coffee just because you were that petty. But you’d never actually acted on those intrusive thoughts since Big Brother (aka the CCTV cameras) was still watching your every move. You might have been close to slipping up during a few moments of weakness, but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little thing.

On top of that, there was Sanghoon, who wouldn’t have hesitated to run to your superior if he were to somehow catch wind of you tampering with the CEO’s coffee order. Your boss took great pride in protecting the shop’s perfect image, which included keeping the “VIP customer,” at whatever cost.

It just wasn’t worth it when the cons severely outweighed the pros, so you simply stuck to being cordial, no matter how hard it was at times.

There was, however, one occasion that had made you seriously reconsider your opinion of the CEO. On the day of his ninth coffee run, he’d unexpectedly shown up during the morning rush and ended up stepping in between you and an agitated customer to save the day, as he liked to call it.

If anyone were to ask you, you’d probably say that it was more like him getting put in his place by an older woman, but of course, he was never going to admit that.

—

“Excuse me, young lady?”

“Yes, Mrs. Park?” you responded with a small, forced smile, already mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come.

She shook her head and pointed to her coffee before placing the cup back onto the counter, right where you’d put it just a minute ago.

“This is not the coffee I ordered.”

“It’s a decaf with three shots of espresso and a splash of cream, exactly how you like it, Ma’am,” you stated while simultaneously trying to finish the Iced Americano you were making.

“That is how I like it, yes,” she nodded, “but this is too bland. You didn’t put three shots of espresso in this coffee.”

“I’m absolutely sure there are three espresso shots in there, Mrs. Park,” you responded confidently before handing the finished Iced Americano to one of your other regulars and shooting him a friendly smile.

Despite you being in the middle of the morning rush and the shop being a little chaotic with orders piling up by the minute, you were very certain that you had prepared her order just right.

Sanghoon was tasked with taking the orders seeing as you were busy making them. Although you were aware that he had a tendency to mess up when it came to situations that required responsibility, with you double-checking everything, the probability of messing up a coffee order was close to zero.

Besides, Mrs. Park was a regular at the shop who came in about three times a week for her morning coffee – that coffee always being a decaf with three espresso shots and a splash of cream.

It wasn’t like you disliked her because there were those occasions when she was nice and struck up a little conversation with you. But the problem was that she liked to complain… a little bit too much. It was up to the point where she would prevent you from doing your job until she got exactly what she wanted.

Coffee too bland? Coffee too strong? Too much cream? Too little cream? Too cold? Too hot? You name it. She always managed to find something to complain about.

At this point, you were pretty used to her antics and knew how to handle the situation in such a way that got her out the door as fast as possible with minimal resistance. Hell, you were probably the only person that was willing to put up with her shenanigans.

Even your boss, the asshole who never seemed to back down from a fight, was no match for her. As far as you knew, she was the only customer that had ever stood up to him and told him that he was a “rude piece of work that needed to get his shit together” to his face. To say that he had been flabbergasted was an understatement.

You, on the other hand, had truly enjoyed the little confrontation – especially the look on your boss’ face as the older woman wiped the floor with him. She had told him everything you weren’t able to, so there was definitely a part of you, deep down, that appreciated her for standing her ground.

Regardless, that didn’t mean you were happy that she had chosen today to cause a scene. You just wanted to be done with the morning rush and take a well-deserved break.

Why did she always have to do this during the busiest time of the day?

“You’re lying. As you know, I’ve been here many times before, and my coffee has never tasted this bland,” she snapped back, not planning to let it go any time soon.

And yes, despite your boss getting his ass handed to him that one time, he still allowed her in the shop. After all, he was a sucker for money, and she was a paying customer, so forbidding her from coming to the shop was out of the question. He simply refused to engage with her whenever they happened to be there at the same time, which is how you ended up with the task of having to appease her several times a week.

It wasn’t like you already had a million other things to do.

“I can assure you that I made it just as I always do. But, if you’re not satisfied with your coffee, I could just add another espresso shot in there to make it stro-”

“No!” she cut you off with a sneer before crossing her arms over her chest. “I want a new coffee. A proper one this time, or I won’t hesitate to leave another bad review.”

Oh god. Your boss would have your head if yet another one of her rants made it onto Naver.

So, that is why you quickly dropped whatever you were holding and turned your body to give her your full attention.

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Park. Please. I’ll ma-”

The sound of a throat clearing stopped you mid-sentence, your eyes shifting to the source of the sound.

“If I may?” the man started, meeting your eyes for a brief second before he inserted himself between you and your regular.

Melon pan dude?

Due to the morning rush, you had been so focused on getting all the orders out that you hadn’t even realized that he had been in the shop all this time, waiting for his own coffee. But now that you had a chance to observe him, you wondered how you could have missed him in the first place.

Out of all the people that were currently in the shop, he was actually the one that stood out the most. The combination of his signature orange beanie and the soft brown coat you’d seen him wear before was a stark contrast from the other customers, of whom the majority was clad in attire consisting of various shades of black and gray.

Seeing as he already stood out enough as it was, you didn’t really understand why he felt the need to insert himself into a conversation that didn’t even concern him.

There was no way Mrs. Park would go down quietly.

On the contrary, the woman tended to make quite the spectacle whenever something was not to her liking. More often than not, it ended with all eyes on her and the person on the receiving end of her indignation – aka you. Not that she could care less, though. With the way she had handled your boss, you were fairly certain that she wasn’t afraid of anyone, which no doubt included rich CEOs with big egos.

So, whatever Melon pan dude had in mind, you had a feeling that it would result in a pointless screaming match with him getting a figurative ass-kicking.

For someone who wanted to stay under the radar, the man sure knew exactly what to do to put himself right in the spotlight. But then again, who were you to stop him from embarrassing himself? It wasn’t like you were the one responsible for any damage to his ego or his public image.

Besides, maybe it would actually teach him a lesson or two about involving himself in other people’s business. Because by the looks of it, he had not gotten that memo yet – said man was currently in the middle of staring down an already-agitated Mrs. Park.

“You know, I’ve been watching her prepare orders for a few minutes now, including yours. And I most definitely saw her add three espresso shots in your coffee,” he stated with crossed arms.

Although you weren’t able to see his entire face due to the mask covering most of it, his tone – one you were all too familiar with – told you that he was more than a little annoyed with the older woman.

“I know what I tasted. Don’t try to insert yourself in something that doesn’t concern you, young man,” Mrs. Park responded, seemingly unamused by the interruption.

This was followed by a breathy chuckle from the CEO before he spoke again. “Trust me. I’d prefer not to either, but you’re being a little more than unreasonable right now.”

“Ha! Unreasonable?” the woman snorted. “As a paying customer, I expect to get the coffee I ordered. But clearly, I did not get what I asked for.”

“Ever considered there might be something wrong with your taste buds?” the CEO panned with a raise of his eyebrows.

The disdain was apparent on the woman’s face as she uttered her next response.

“E-excuse me?!”

Oh no, he’d really done it now. He still didn’t know when to quit, did he?

“Need me to repeat that for you?” he challenged, his tone bordering on taunting.

“What I need is for you to move aside so I can resolve this matter!”

“Why don’t you just stop being a bother and let her do her job? If you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one in here,” he pointed out, referring to the rest of the customers, all of whom seemed to be very invested in the dispute.

You couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t every morning they got to see some random dude go up against an older lady. And for what? A damn coffee order, that was.

The most shocking thing about all of this was probably the fact that he was actually trying to help you for once. You thought that he would have at least liked to see you suffer a little bit for all the times you had gotten on his nerves. It was… confusing and most unexpected.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have much to think it over due to the events that were about to unfold right in front of your eyes.

Within the next few seconds, Mrs. Park effortlessly pushed the much larger CEO aside as if he was nothing but a useless pawn standing in her way. That, of course, pulled a bunch of gasps and giggles from the bystanders, who were no doubt just as shocked as you.

You nearly would have laughed with them if it weren't for you realizing you were at work and needed to remain neutral, no matter how badly you might have wanted to express how you truly felt. But dang, that was definitely a sight you weren't going to forget.

The man in question was stunned, to say the least – understandably so, because who knew a small woman like Mrs. Park was hiding such strength? The CEO must have really struck a nerve to bring out that side of her.

To be fair, it shouldn't have surprised you it had even gotten to this point. The man had a gift for driving people up the wall – you knew that all too well after less than two weeks of knowing him. And with both him and Mrs. Park having strong personalities, the two were bound to clash one way or another.

If it was under a different circumstance, you would have loved to enjoy this display just a bit longer. But, if you actually wanted to get through your list of orders, you needed to find a way to put a stop to this. Besides, judging by the fire igniting in the CEO’s eyes, you feared that he was about to take it up a notch if you didn't immediately do something about it.

Before either Mrs. Park or Melon pan dude could get another word in, you quickly stretched out your arm in an attempt to stop the latter from saying or doing something he shouldn't.

“It's okay!” you intervened and gave the CEO a pointed look before directing your attention at the older woman. “No need to argue. I already redid your order, Ma'am,” you added while placing the new cup on the counter. “A decaf with three espresso shots and a little bit of cream.”

Mrs. Park smiled triumphantly at the sight of the steaming cup of coffee. “Thank you, dear,” she said as she reached out for it. This was followed by a nasty look being thrown in the CEO’s direction. “You see that, young man? That is how it's done.”

The CEO, who had already opened his mouth to retaliate, was quick to shut it at the sight of your excessive head shaking.

Your goal was to de-escalate the situation and get the older woman out of the shop as quickly as possible. His involvement would only slow down the process, so you hoped that he would get the hint and let you handle the rest from here.

The sound of another throat clearing pulled your attention right back to the woman who had been at the center of all this.

“Yes, Mrs. Park?”

“Aren’t you missing a little something, dear?”

A small frown made its way onto your face as you racked your brain for anything you could have possibly missed.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Ma’am?” you responded, seemingly confused but also trying your best not to cry out in frustration.

She had already put Melon pan dude in his place and gotten her new coffee, so what else did she want?

“Well,” she huffed before pointing to the glass display, “the least you could do is give me one of those cookies on the house after everything I just went through.”

Ah. So that’s what the whole thing was about. A free cookie… you should have known. It wasn’t the first time she had tried to get something for free, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time.

“You can’t be for real, right?” The CEO butted in before you’d even had a chance to respond. “You got what you wanted, and now you still want more?”

You mentally cursed at the man for opening his big fat mouth again. So much for letting you handle the situation.

“Just who do you think you are to speak to me like that?” the woman questioned, no doubt wondering who would have the audacity to argue with her the way he did.

“I think you’d be surprised to find out.”

“It’s fine! Please. It’s not a big deal,” you quickly interrupted upon hearing the CEO’s last words.

You doubted he actually wanted to reveal his identity and risk becoming front-page news. That wouldn’t do him nor you any good. The last thing you wanted was a bunch of reporters swarming the shop to grill you and anyone else they could find for the ‘juicy’ details.

“I got you a cookie on the house,” you announced, holding out the paper bag for her to take.

“Wonderful! I knew I could count on you,” she nodded and eagerly reached for the bag. “At least someone here knows how to treat people,” she grumbled, throwing the CEO a final look before taking her leave.

As soon as the door had closed behind Mrs. Park, a collective sigh sounded through the shop, which was immediately followed by the sound of continuous chatter.

It was kind of funny though, how everyone had been so invested just a few seconds ago but went right back to their conversations and phones as if nothing had happened. The CEO, however, was awfully quiet and seemingly deep in thought.

“You good?” you asked, feeling genuinely concerned when he hadn’t moved for a good minute.

You honestly didn’t know why you felt sorry for the guy, but something about today’s events had stirred something in you – something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your question seemed to shake him right out of his bubble, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“Me? I’m fine,” he nodded and took a few steps towards the counter. “Is she always like this though?” he questioned, obviously referring to Mrs. Park.

You pursed your lips as you measured the amount of milk you’d need for the next order on your list – his to be exact. “Probably like ninety-nine percent of the time?”

The man scoffed in response, placing his hands on the smooth countertop. “And you just give into her like that? You know she was just looking for attention and a free cookie, right?”

“I know, but what can I do?” you sighed, shooting him a brief glance. “She’s a regular and my boss cannot stand the bad reviews, so it’s best to just give her what she wants from time to time.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were bad, but she was something else.”

“Pfff, whatever, Mr. CEO. You’re worse than me and Mrs. Park combined,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes.

“Yah! At least I had the guts to put her in her place,” he defended, his eyes widening at your words.

“What place? I think you’re the one who got owned by her though,” you giggled as you grabbed your now-finished milk foam. “Didn’t you see the way she just pushed you aside like you were nothing? Bet you’re not used to that, huh?”

“That’s only because I let her. I was just- I mean… I-I can’t be fighting an old lady,” the man stuttered, his defense crumbling right there.

Oh, he was such a freaking liar.

You couldn’t help but grin as you skillfully poured the steamed milk into the paper cup, shaping it into a pretty flower. “Sure, that must have been the reason.”

“The least you could do is thank me,” the CEO grumbled.

Even though you weren’t able to see his whole face, you were pretty certain that he was pouting underneath his black mask.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckled, enjoying the effect your words had on him. Unfortunately, that moment could only last for so long seeing as you had other customers to serve. “Here. Your coffee’s ready.”

“Thanks. I have to run now, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you watched him grab his cup.

“Hey,” you called just as he was about to take his leave. The man raised his eyebrows questioningly, patiently waiting for whatever you were about to tell him. “Thanks… for trying to help me out.”

His face immediately softened at your expression of gratitude. “No problem,” he nodded, which was followed by a quick but unexpected wink in your direction before he also exited the shop.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

—

After that debacle, you actually thought the two of you had made some real progress. Okay, it wasn’t like you were all buddy-buddy with another, but your opinion of the man had definitely taken a turn for the better.

For one, him coming to the shop hadn’t been bothering you as much anymore. You weren’t sure what had come over him, but he kept the teasing and taunting to a minimum during his next few visits.

Though his behavior had taken you by surprise, you were certainly not going to complain about it. Instead of the usual back and forth – that was, him trying to get a reaction out of you and you doing your best to ignore him – you found yourself having small conversations with the man that didn’t make you want to strangle him by the end of it.

Perhaps he had finally realized that being a dick wasn’t going to get him anywhere, especially if you were going to see each other on a nearly daily basis for his coffee runs. Or maybe he had decided that the risk of potentially damaging his public image wasn’t worth it after all, which, honestly, sounded a little more plausible to you.

Despite you having no desire to make him look bad whatsoever, you technically did have the means to do so. And if people loved anything, it was celebrity gossip. Hell, big celebrities had gotten canceled over the smallest and most ridiculous things, so who was to say that the same thing couldn’t happen to SEVENTEEN World’s managing CEO?

Of course, you wouldn’t ever think to take it that far. You weren’t exactly the man’s number-one fan, but you’d never want to wish something like that on someone. Besides, if his recent change in attitude was anything to go by, you were fairly certain that he and his reputation would be just fine.

Whatever it was, you had started to take somewhat of a liking towards the new and improved Melon pan dude.

Looking back on it now, you just wanted to laugh at yourself for being so naïve.

That friendly façade, that peaceful bubble in which you had momentarily forgotten what an ignorant asshole the CEO could be, had only lasted for a total of two days.

Yes. Two freaking days was all it had taken for him to throw it all right back in your face. Were you disappointed? A little. Surprised? Not in the slightest – it had all seemed too good to be true anyway. The average person doesn’t change overnight, and the CEO was apparently no exception to that either.

Once an entitled prick, always an entitled prick, isn’t that how the saying goes?

—

Today was not a good day for Seungcheol… and the day hadn’t even started yet.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was his private investigator informing him that the bracelet – the one he’d seen at Wonwoo’s place a little over a week ago – belonged to no one other than his dear sister.

When he’d initially spotted the bracelet, he’d hoped that it wasn’t true. But when his PI told him the bad news, Seungcheol had felt his heart break just a little bit. There was no way the PI could have been wrong about it – the CEO had made sure to hire only the best of the best. And the best he was, that much he’d proven already with the various documents and pictures he’d collected to confirm the CEO’s suspicions about the pair.

He just didn’t want to believe that his best friend and his sister would go as far as to lie about something so important. Seungcheol had trusted them with everything, and to think that they’d betrayed his trust affected him more than he would have liked.

Before starting this little investigation, Seungcheol had obviously weighed out the pros and cons that came with digging into the personal lives of the people he loved. Of course, somewhere deep down, he knew that it was totally immoral and reckless, and he was aware that it would inevitably open Pandora’s box. But the thought of being in the unknown, the thought of not knowing whether he was being lied to or not, had affected him to the point where he had started to neglect some of his duties as managing CEO.

That’s why he’d decided that he had to know the truth, regardless of the consequences – morals be damned.

But the truth hurt.

Seungcheol was not used to feeling like this, much less capable of dealing with it. Being the CEO he was, he’d dealt with more stressful and bad situations than he could count. But this? This was different. Nothing could have prepared him for this shitstorm. If it would have been any other work situation, he would have had no issue facing the problem head-on.

With this being a personal matter, however, Seungcheol couldn’t exactly approach this as he would a work-related issue. He felt like he had to gather a little more evidence at least, and come up with a concrete plan before he showed his cards. Because even though everything in his body told him to confront the pair, he had to keep it together for now.

The last thing he wanted to do was to jeopardize the future of SEVENTEEN World.

Naturally, with the CEO having to keep such a big secret to himself, the stress of it all was slowly starting to take its toll on his emotions.

Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to either Jeonghan or Mingyu for help. As the group ‘therapists’, the fashion CEO and the chef were no strangers to their friends coming to them for advice or, in some cases, to blow off steam. Both men were great listeners and just had this aura about them that made others naturally want to confide in them. In Seungcheol’s case, Jeonghan was his go-to person whenever he needed a listening ear, more so than Mingyu. Surely, that didn’t mean that Seungcheol valued his advice any less.

On the contrary, the chef had been there for him more times than he could count, in particular during the hard times he’d had to endure in the beginning stages of their business journey. He’d never explicitly told Mingyu this, but Seungcheol was pretty sure that he would have given up a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Mingyu’s unwavering trust and the many encouraging words he’d bestowed.

It was safe to say that Seungcheol had a special type of appreciation for the chef.

The reason Seungcheol tended to seek out Jeonghan, and not Mingyu, in times of distress was pretty straightforward: the two of them go way back. And because of that long-standing friendship, the fashion CEO probably knew Seungcheol better than anyone else.

It was a pain in the ass sometimes – because Jeonghan was certainly not afraid to give his unfiltered opinions – but the managing CEO also knew that his friend only wanted the best for him. Well… it usually took Seungcheol a while to see that, but that was beside the point.

With the CEO being in this predicament, however, neither Jeonghan nor Mingyu seemed like a great option.

Mingyu was obviously out of the question – seeing as he was Wonwoo’s closest friend, Seungcheol was quite positive that the other CEO was already in on the whole thing.

Though Jeonghan was no doubt just as much in the dark as Seungcheol had been, the thought of having to tell his oldest friend about the betrayal already made him want to cringe. Jeonghan would probably tell him to stop being such a grump and get over it, which was definitely not what Seungcheol needed to hear right now. He was fucking pissed and in no state to accept any form of criticism from anyone, especially from his best friend.

That’s why he was currently on his way to Oh My! Coffee for his daily fix of caffeine. Despite feeling stressed and extremely agitated, the CEO knew that a good cup of coffee would at least provide him with enough of a boost to get through the majority of the day.

He had a lot of shit that needed to get done, and if he didn’t find something to take his mind off the matter at hand, soon everyone would know something was wrong. And with everyone, he was mainly referring to Haewon.

Having been Seungcheol’s personal secretary for many years, she had spent enough time with the CEO to know when something was really bothering him.

Though their relationship was primarily professional, his secretary probably knew a lot more about his personal life than she should have. The CEO wasn’t stupid, though. He knew that it was inevitable with the busy life he led.

Just about everything in his daily schedule – even the majority of his weekends – was arranged through her, so he was rather impressed with himself that he’d even managed to keep the whole PI thing a secret for so long.

It really was surprising because Seungcheol swore she had some sort of sixth sense with the way she was always able to figure out exactly what was on his mind – it was freaky but quite convenient whenever he had a hard time verbalizing his concerns.

Still, the CEO didn’t think it was a good idea to involve his secretary in any of this. He knew that Haewon wasn’t the type to tell on him, which was one of the reasons she was still with him to this day, but he already expected her to pull a full-on Jeonghan on him if she were to find out about what he had been concocting behind her back.

Simply put, keeping it on the down low was probably in everyone’s best interest.

What Seungcheol hadn’t anticipated, however, was for his day to get even worse after just having confirmed his usual order at his new favorite coffee place.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your card got declined,” you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to soften the blow of the unexpected words that had just left your mouth.

Seungcheol shook his head in utter disbelief. He didn’t think he’d ever hear those words, certainly not in a context where they’d be directed at him.

“Decl- What? Try again,” he urged with a hint of a frown on his face.

“I’ve already tried it twice. Do you have another card I could try?” you responded with a shrug before handing him back his black credit card.

“For fuck’s sake,” Seungcheol grumbled as he hastily opened his wallet again to put his declined card back in place. He then grabbed onto his second black card and handed it over without a word, watching intently as you swiped it.

“I’m afraid this one is not working either,” you stated after a few seconds of silence, followed by you holding out yet another declined card.

Seungcheol almost wanted to scoff at the absurdity of the situation. How was it that neither of the two cards was working when he clearly had more than sufficient funds in his account? This had to be a fucking joke. There was just no other logical explanation for it.

“Then there’s something wrong with your system. My cards can’t be the issue,” Seungcheol shook his head, impatiently tapping his fingers against the countertop as he felt the frustration slowly start to spread through his entire body.

Just why did the universe have to mess with him today of all days?

“I can assure you our system works just fine,” you huffed, your clenched jaw making it quite obvious that you were trying to hold back whatever was really going through your mind.

“Well, obviously it can’t be me. I didn’t just go broke overnight,” he chuckled bitterly. “Reset the thing, try again. I don’t care whatever you do. Just make it work,” he added as he motioned to the register.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. Your cards. are. not. working.” you emphasized with a pointed look, seemingly done with the CEO’s refusal to believe that the problem was with his cards and not the shop’s system.

Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh at your words, trying his very best not to snap back at you like he normally would have. He just wanted his damn coffee and get on with his day. And getting into an argument with you was not on his to-do list for today. So, choosing the high road, he reluctantly pulled a five thousand won banknote from his wallet.

“Just forget it. I got cash,” he muttered, nearly slamming the thing down onto the counter.

You didn’t say a word as you reached for the money. Neither did you say anything when you handed him back his 300 won worth of change.

It annoyed Seungcheol that you’d chosen to give him the silent treatment, but it wasn’t like it was anything new though.

Before the whole ‘cookie’ incident – which is the name he’d assigned to the encounter he’d had with the older woman – you’d tended to ignore his teasing remarks on a daily basis. Though it was a little frustrating for Seungcheol to not have you acknowledge him when he was speaking to you – if he had to guess, it probably had to do with your boss giving you nothing but grief for absolutely no reason – he hadn’t actually minded it much.

The truth was, as the days progressed, he’d unknowingly started to look forward to his coffee runs. And no, it wasn’t only because of the good coffee. The CEO couldn’t really explain it, nor did he want to admit it, but his interactions with you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

Perhaps it was because you were so different from everyone else in his life. Come to think of it, aside from his friends, you were probably the only person he’d met who didn’t treat him with the utmost respect.

If he’d learned anything about you in the short time he’d known you, it was that you didn’t seem to give a shit about his CEO status.

Unlike your slimy-ass boss, who made it his mission to suck up to Seungcheol whenever he got the chance, you treated him like any other customer despite knowing his true identity. It was like he could be a completely different person with you, and it was sort of… exhilarating?

Then the cookie incident happened. The CEO had been so close to revealing his true identity when the older woman just wouldn’t stop taking advantage of the situation. And because he had been so agitated at that point, he had totally forgotten about the audience that had been able to follow the entire thing.

God knows what would have happened if he had revealed himself in front of that crowd. Seungcheol already imagined the headlines he’d be seeing the following day: ‘SEVENTEEN World’s Managing Director Choi Seungcheol Argues with Older Woman in Coffee Bar.’ While the other CEOs would have had a field day with that, he was pretty sure his PR team would have had his head for that.

So, whether it had been intentional or not, your interruption had been a very welcome one.

After that day, though, things started to look a little better for the two of you – mainly because the CEO had decided to take a different approach to your interactions. Again, he would never openly admit it, but despite the hostility between the two of you, you intrigued him, whether he liked it or not.

So, naturally, with Seungcheol being the nosy person he was, he’d made it his goal to find out more about you. But to be able to do that, he figured that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by constantly getting on your nerves. Hence, he’d toned down his teasing and provocative remarks in an attempt to show you a different side of him.

Up until today, it had been going quite well, much to his surprise. You hadn’t gotten past the usual small talk, but your daily encounters had definitely taken a turn for the better – who would have thought?

However, with how today had been going so far, the CEO had a feeling that even the smallest thing was enough to set him off and potentially ruin whatever you were working towards.

Oh, if only he’d known how right he was.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed out of nowhere, followed by a loud clanging sound that echoed through the small shop.

The CEO, who had been in the middle of writing a message to Haewon about his money situation, nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected noise. He was already on edge as a result of the bad news he’d received this morning. Add to that the fact that he almost hadn’t been able to pay for a simple coffee, and then now this near heart attack.

Seungcheol felt like he was about to reach his fucking breaking point.

“Can’t you fucking watch it?” he snapped, his focus shifting from his phone to you to find out what had caused the commotion.

The CEO realized that his response might have been a little over the top, but he hadn’t been able to control his mouth in the heat of the moment.

Your eyes were wide with shock as you seemed to process what you’d just heard.

“Pardon me?” you finally croaked while clutching onto your left hand.

“The noise,” Seungcheol grumbled. “Some people are trying to work here.”

You exhaled loudly and almost aggressively turned on the faucet before thrusting your hand underneath the water stream.

“Well, I’m sorry for spilling scorching hot milk over my hand,” you retorted, your facial expression slightly souring as soon as the water made contact with your hand.

“Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“Listen here, you f-” You stopped yourself mid-sentence, your lips sealing shut as you ripped your eyes away from the CEO.

“Yeah? Go right ahead. What were you about to call me, hmm?” he mused, somewhat satisfied that he’d nearly caught you slipping.

“Nothing,” you spoke through gritted teeth, making it pretty clear that you weren’t planning on finishing your previous sentence. Not that Seungcheol would have expected any less.

He just hummed, leaning himself against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, you might as well get on with my coffee though. I got other places I need to be,” he said when he noticed that you still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the sink.

Although you chose not to respond to the CEO’s words, Seungcheol knew damn well that he’d successfully managed to piss you off once again. Your jaw was tense as you not so quietly turned off the faucet and started drying your hands, and he guessed you were desperately trying to hold in whatever you wanted to say by taking a couple of deep breaths.

He knew that he was being unnecessarily hostile today. Instead of keeping his emotions under control like he should have, he’d taken them out on you – not exactly his proudest moment. But then again, it wasn’t like this was the first outburst you’d witnessed from him.

Seungcheol knew that you were able to stand your ground whenever needed, so he wasn’t all that concerned about how his words might have come across. Besides, if he was being honest, he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. His day had already been ruined, and with everything piling up, he just didn’t have it in him to pretend like everything was fine and dandy.

He just wanted his coffee and get out of there so that he could come up with a plan to fix the mess he’d gotten himself involved in.

Fortunately, you seemed just as motivated to finish his coffee and get him out of the shop, practically pushing the cup into his hand by the time it was done while shooting daggers his way.

Yeah, he could definitely kiss that progress goodbye.

—

Later that night, Seungcheol was once again on his way to JamJam, hoping to grab a melon pan before spending the rest of the night with Kkuma. After all the shit that had gone down today, it was fair to say that the cute little dog was probably the only living being the CEO could tolerate at the moment – mainly because he didn’t have to hide anything from her.

The same thing couldn’t be said about his secretary, though.

Haewon, being the great secretary she was, had luckily managed to solve the CEO’s card issues with only a single call to the bank. Apparently, the fraud department of his bank had blocked his cards due to ‘suspicious activity’ on his account.

This so-called ‘suspicious activity’ had consisted of a series of larger cash withdrawals that had seemed too divergent from his usual withdrawal pattern, all of which had been sufficient cause for concern. What they didn’t know was that it had, in fact, been Seungcheol himself who had taken out the money… to pay the PI he’d hired to look into Wonwoo and his sister.

When Haewon had first brought the news to him, he’d wanted to curse himself for letting his nosy secretary handle this matter. The man had been so focused on trying to hide it from her that he’d forgotten about how the people from the bank might respond. He’d basically been forced to lie about the nature of the withdrawals.

The bank might have believed his bullshit excuse, but the CEO had a feeling that Haewon did not believe a single thing that had come out of his mouth. Thankfully, she hadn’t pressed him for more information, but he knew he had to be even more careful from now on.

As Seungcheol entered his favorite bakery, he greeted Mr. Hashimoto with a small nod and quickly made his way toward the back of the shop, his eyes already set on one particular breadbasket. He reached it within a few seconds, only to be disappointed when he noticed it was completely empty.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

“Fucking hell. Not now,” he whispered to himself before reluctantly turning around.

There you were, a smug look on your face as you dangled a melon pan – the last one – in front of the CEO’s nose. “Let me guess. You’re looking for this?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your obvious taunting. “No shit. How did you know?”

You shrugged. “Just an educated guess. It’s too bad, though, because this seems to be the last one,” you smirked as you dropped the snack into your shopping basket. “Maybe try to be a little faster next time.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, slightly distracted by the sight of your other hand wrapped up in bandages.

Now that Seungcheol had gotten his emotions somewhat under control, he did feel a little bad about the way he’d behaved towards you this morning.

You’d gotten yourself hurt, and instead of asking if you were okay like any decent human being would have, he’d reacted like a total prick. Of course, Seungcheol knew that the right thing to do in this case was to set his pride aside and apologize, but with the way you were trying to get under his skin right now, he felt the chances of that happening were slim to none.

You awkwardly cleared your throat as you hid your hand inside your sleeve, the action bringing Seungcheol back to the matter at hand… the last melon pan, which you’d managed to snatch yet again.

“J-Just see this as payback for today,” you sputtered before quickly regaining your confidence again. “Maybe if you’d been a little nicer this morning, this melon pan could have been yours. But since you decided to be a dick for whatever reason, I hope you have a nice night crying about not getting a melon pan,” you stated, that smug look making its appearance again.

“You really think I’d cry about something like that?”

“Oh, I know you will. Just like I knew that friendly act of yours was too good to be true. You’re nothing but an entitled asshole who doesn’t know how to treat people with respect,” you spat, speaking your mind now that you didn’t have to worry about your boss.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Seungcheol sneered, not liking the assumptions that were coming from your mouth.

“You’re right. I don’t. And I’m not interested either, so cut the fucking crap and don’t try to insert yourself into my business.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

“Good.”

After a rather uncomfortable silence, you averted your eyes and adjusted the shopping basket you were carrying.

“Well, goodnight,” you mumbled before swiftly walking away, leaving behind an agitated and melon pan-less CEO.

—

Little did you know that your next encounter with the CEO would end in complete disaster.

It started out just like any other day, with you getting the coffee shop ready for opening and your boss breathing down your neck as soon as he’d stepped foot inside the shop. And not surprisingly, your lousy co-worker was nowhere to be found when your boss informed you that there’d be a shit ton of work for you to do.

Sanghoon showed up an hour past his official start time, and your superior didn’t seem to care at all, practically welcoming him with open arms and telling him to take it easy today. It took everything in you to bite your tongue when you heard those words coming from your boss. Because how was it that you were working your ass off and trying to keep the shop running while he got to take it fucking easy?

When was this lazy ass piece of shit finally going to get the karma he so much deserved?

It was a little past opening time – with you in the middle of refilling the syrups – when the door to the shop opened. Initially, you thought it was one of your regulars since a couple of them preferred to show up ahead of the morning rush, but when you got up from your crouched position to greet said person, you were met with a woman you’d never seen at the shop before.

“Hi! Can I help you?” you asked, a small smile on your face as you got ready to type in her order.

“Yeah, uhm, I hope so. I’m actually looking for my brother, Sanghoon?”

“Y-Your brother?” you stuttered, eyes widening at the new revelation.

In all your time working together with the slacker, he'd not once shared anything about his personal life. It wasn't like you'd asked him about it either because you weren't the slightest bit interested in anything involving him, but meeting someone related to him certainly piqued your curiosity.

“Yeah,” the woman muttered, a grimace taking over her face. “Is he here?”

“He’s in the back. I could call him for you?” you suggested.

The woman nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” you announced before heading to the back to search for the man in question.

It didn't take you long to find him. He was sitting in his usual spot, headphones covering his ears and full focus on his phone.

“Hey. Your sister’s here. She wants to speak to you." No response. Annoyed at his lack of situational awareness, you snapped your fingers in his line of sight.

“What do you want?” he groaned as he reluctantly took his headphones off.

You crossed your arms. “It's not me who wants anything. Your sister is out front.”

“My sister? What the-” he grumbled before scrambling out of his seat, not even bothering to take his phone with him.

Now, if you knew anything about Sanghoon, it was that he was one with his phone. You'd literally never seen him go anywhere without it, so for him to leave the device behind without a care in the world meant that whatever his sister wanted from him had to be serious.

Thankfully your boss had stepped out for a bit because there was no way you were missing out on this.

You didn't know what you expected to walk in on when you returned to the front of the shop, but you certainly hadn't been prepared for what came out of the woman's mouth.

“Just tell me what you did with the emergency fund money!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. What the hell are you talking about?”

The woman scoffed in disbelief at her brother’s response. “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I worked my ass off for that money. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, not for you to gamble away whenever you feel like it.”

Oh shit. Did he have a gambling problem?

“Why do you immediately assume I took it? It could have been mom or dad,” Sanghoon argued back.

“Because I know you took it, so don’t lie to me. Everyone knows you have a problem with money, but I’m the only one calling you out on it.”

“You really wanna go there right now?”

“Yes, I do! Because all you do is fuck around and for some absurd reason, everyone worships the ground you walk on. But I’m not falling for that shit. The fact that you still have this job is mind-boggling to me,” the woman chuckled bitterly.

Damn. You didn’t know your co-worker’s sister at all, but you liked her already – anyone who had the balls to call Sanghoon out on his shit was a hero in your eyes.

“Yah! Would you stop embarrassing me at work?”

“Return the money and I just might,” his sister retorted with a smirk.

“I already told you that I didn’t take that damn money, so go find someone else to bother. I’m done here,” Sanghoon sneered before nearly stomping his way towards the back. “Oh,” he started as he stopped in his tracks to face his sister again. “don’t come to my work to accuse me of shit you know nothing about.” After that, he quickly disappeared without another word.

“Asshole,” the woman huffed with a shake of her head.

You took that as your cue to add a little comment of your own. “I’m glad to know someone in the family got blessed with brains,” you grinned.

She couldn’t help but giggle in response. “I know right? Is he giving you a hard time too?”

“Oh, you have no idea. It’s like I’m running this thing by myself most of the time,” you sighed while making your way back to the register.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the woman shook her head. “He’s always been like this and I’m afraid he’s beyond saving at this point.”

You let out a snort at that. “I figured as much. Luckily, I kind of learned to deal with it along the way.”

“I admire you for that,” she laughed.

“Thanks. I try,” you chuckled. “Can I get you anything though? A coffee? Juice? It’s my treat.”

She was quick to shake her head at your offer. “Oh no, you really don’t have to.”

“Please. I insist. The way you handled your brother just now was awesome. I’m so used to seeing everybody praise him for the work Ido, that I never got the chance to see someone put him in his place. So, tell me. What do you want?”

“Well, in that case, I’d like an iced latte,” she smiled.

“I’m on it!”

After that interesting start to your workday, you went right back to your chores while occasionally helping some customers. Your boss returned not long after Sanghoon’s sister left the shop, not missing a single opportunity to order you around as you made your way through your to-do list.

Then finally came the moment you’d been dreading since yesterday – Melon pan dude’s morning coffee run.

As he entered the shop, you noticed he was once again wearing his signature orange beanie, paired with a black mask and the brown coat you’d seen him wear before.

All hopes of the two of you reconciling and picking up where you left off had been crushed as a result of yesterday’s events, so to say you were happy to see him was an understatement. But just because you disliked the man and wanted nothing more than to stay as far away from him as possible, didn’t mean that you couldn’t be cordial and professional during work hours. After all, he was still a customer and your boss was watching, so really all you could do was try to prepare his coffee as quickly as possible and refrain from any unnecessary communication.

So, that’s exactly what you did.

“The usual?” you asked before he’d even reached the counter.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded while reaching for his wallet.

“Coming right up,” you said after you’d finalized his card payment.

“Mr. Choi!” your boss’ voice sounded as he returned from the back, Sanghoon following closely behind. “Glad to see you back again. How’s the business going?”

“It’s fine,” the CEO responded with a hint of annoyance.

“You’re too modest! I heard you secured another great deal this week. You’re truly an inspiration for many, including myself,” your superior gushed.

It was pathetic really, how he tried to get into the CEO’s good graces when it was so obvious that he wanted nothing to do with him. Either your boss just didn’t care or he seriously lacked the ability to pick up on social cues.

You simply chose to block out their voices after that, putting your full attention on the coffee you were making because you did not want to hear your boss kissing the man’s ass so early in the morning.

It was only after you’d completed the order that you finally snapped out of your concentration bubble. Your boss seemed to have given up and was now talking to Sanghoon about lord knows what, while Melon pan dude was buried in his phone, probably doing something work-related.

After lightly clearing your throat, you placed the cup on the counter. “Your order is ready.”

The CEO’s head snapped up at your words, his phone momentarily forgotten as he walked up to grab his coffee.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he reached for a cup sleeve and a lid.

You nodded before turning away from him to resume with the dishes, not wanting to wait for him to exit the shop. Apparently, that was a big mistake.

“Y/N!” your boss suddenly hissed, startling you with the intensity of his tone. “What happened to wishing our customers a nice day?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize.” Okay, that might have been a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. You just hadn’t felt the need to say anything else to the CEO at that moment.

“This is exactly why I can’t trust you to do anything right. Tell me why I never have to tell Sanghoon how to behave towards customers?” Your jaw clenched at the mention of that useless potato, but you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to risk angering him even further. “I’ve said this again and again, but you should take some notes from him. Because unlike you, he’s been doing a wonderful job.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” The unexpected interruption caused both you and your boss to turn your heads toward the source of the voice.

It was Melon pan dude, who apparently, had not yet left the shop after grabbing his coffee. Instead, he was right at the counter, a death glare directed at the older man standing beside you, which you knew couldn’t mean anything good.

You’d seen how things had ended with Mrs. Park and you did not want a repetition of that, especially not when your boss was one of the main characters.

Speaking of whom, said man was quick to change his attitude, his tone switching from harsh to soft in only a matter of seconds as he addressed the CEO.

“S-Sir?”

The businessman rolled his eyes at that before speaking up. “The way you’re reprimanding her and telling her to be more like that lazy shit when I literally haven’t seen him do a single useful thing around here.”

“I-I can assure you that Sanghoon is a very capable barista,” your boss stuttered, thoroughly surprised by the CEO’s blunt criticism.

The other man chuckled in response. Hell, you had the urge to do the same at the sound of that ridiculous statement, but you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire.

“I think that might be the biggest joke I’ve heard this year. You do realize that this shop wouldn’t be running without her, right?” He pointed in your direction, letting his eyes rest on yours for a moment before shifting back to their original target. “I’ve unfortunately had to try his coffee once, and it was guaranteed the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“The worst coffee? Sanghoon? No, that can’t be,” your boss shook his head in disbelief. “Y/N must have made a mistake with your coffee.”

This fucking asshole.

“Are you really that much of a misogynist that you can’t admit your guy can’t make coffee to save his life?”

“Of course n-not! I just refuse to believe he would serve anything that awful in my shop.”

Oh, if only he knew how many coffee orders you’d had to salvage as a result of your co-worker’s non-existing barista skills.

“Well, I’ll be happy to burst that delusional bubble you reside in. Letting that guy,” he pointed to Sanghoon, who looked like he couldn’t give two shits about anything being said about him, “prepare coffee should be considered a crime.” Then, the businessman leaned forward as he moved his finger in your boss’ direction. “And so should mistreating your hardworking employees.”

“Mr. Choi! Where is all of this coming from?”

You nearly rolled your eyes at the act he was putting up in front of the CEO, who could clearly see past his bullshit.

“You know, I was going to leave it at the bad review I left a few days ago, just because I didn’t want to cause a scene. But the fact that you think I haven’t noticed your disgusting behavior is beyond me,” the other man scoffed.

“Bad review? That was y-you?” Your boss was at a loss for words at that unexpected confession. You just stood there in shock as you listened to the whole thing go down.

The shop hadn’t gotten any bad reviews in a few months, so you remembered that review all too well – your boss had made sure of that. Seeing as he was obsessed with maintaining the shop’s ‘perfect’ image on Naver, he’d made it a habit to check the reviews every single chance he got. So, when he’d seen that first thing in the morning, he completely flipped out.

No surprise, he’d taken his frustrations out on you, lecturing you about customer service and making coffee as if you hadn’t been doing it for years already. Funnily enough, it wasn’t even you that the reviewer had criticized, which made the outburst he’d directed at you that much more absurd.

Despite the shit your boss had given you for it, you’d silently enjoyed the jabs the reviewer had taken at the two men because someone had actually voiced the things you couldn’t say.

But now that you knew Melon pan dude had been behind the review, you just wished he’d kept the entire thing to himself.

It was one thing for your boss to discover one of his customers had insulted him, but for him to find out it had been the CEO he so admired was guaranteed to backfire on you. And now, with the CEO pretty much standing up for you, you could only assume that today was going to be rough. So much for telling the guy to stay out of your business.

“Yes, I wrote it,” the CEO smirked before quickly turning serious again. “And mark my words. If I see you mistreat your employee again, I won’t hesitate to use my real name next time. Now that would be bad for business.”

“Mr. Choi. You have it totally wrong,” your boss tried to defend himself, but it was pretty clear that any attempt was futile at this point. He’d royally screwed things up with his favorite VIP customer.

“Save it,” the CEO shook his head. “Fix that attitude first,” he frowned before swiftly turning around and leaving the shop without another word.

“What the hell did you do?” the man sneered as soon as the door had closed, leaving you to deal with the mess.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir,” you said, feeling genuinely confused.

Your boss scowled, turning his full body to face you this time. “Cut the shit, Y/N. What did you have to do to get him to say all that?”

What the hell was he on about?

“Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t do anything,” you emphasized, already preparing yourself for this conversation to go completely left.

“Bullshit. I’ve seen the way you interact with him. Even Sanghoon told me he’s noticed something going on between you two. So, tell me. What is it? Are you sleeping with him. Is that it?”

Your breathing hitched for a second, your mind processing the words that had just left your boss’ mouth. You? Sleeping with Mr. Rich and Famous? No. This was so not happening right now.

This was exactly the reason why you didn’t need Melon pan dude to fight your battles because look at where it got you.

“No, you’re wrong,” you shook your head, your voice quivering as you felt yourself start to shake from the adrenaline rushing through your body.

To know your good-for-nothing co-worker and your boss had been talking about you and the CEO was already a no-go in your eyes. But the fact your own boss would suggest such an awful thing made you feel more than a little disgusted.

The man was obviously in the wrong – there was no doubt about that – but you also needed to set some serious boundaries with the guy that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place. If he’d just let you do your work and kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your boss snapped when he noticed you start to loosen your apron.

“I need a break,” you grumbled, already having made up your mind about your next move. If you were quick, you might still be able to catch the dude before he took off.

“Like hell you are. You’re going back to work.”

“I need a break, Sir.”

“Take a break and do what? To see that little boyfriend of yours? Yeah, I don’t think so,” he snapped.

Fuck it. You weren’t about to put up with any more of these absurd accusations – you had at least that much self-worth. Who did he think he was to put you on the spot like that? And for what? All because he got his little ego hurt by the CEO?

Enough was enough.

Against your boss’ orders, you ripped off your apron and slammed it down onto the counter right in front of his eyes. It was probably the boldest move you’d ever made, but you didn’t care. You were livid and you needed to fix this mess.

“I swear to God, Y/N. If you even think of going out there, you’re fired, you hear me?” your boss called when he noticed you storming towards the exit.

The thing was, his threat went in one ear and out the other. You’d already committed to your decision when you’d ripped off your apron, so turning back was not an option for you. Besides, as if this shop would survive without you. You estimated the chance of your boss actually firing you during these busy times close to zero, so you were willing to take that risk for now.

“Y/N! Come back here! Y/N! I’m serious!” your boss screamed, his voice echoing through the entire shop.

But it was all in vain because you were already outside, the door shutting behind you and drowning out the sound of his angry screams.

To your surprise, you spotted the man you were hoping to find leaning against his fancy sports car, almost as if he’d known you would be coming to find him. At least good to know you hadn’t risked it all for nothing.

“Yah! Melon pan dude!” you called, stalking right up to him.

He chuckled as he pushed himself away from the driver’s door. “Melon pan dude? That’s what you’ve decided on?”

You chose to ignore that comment and cut straight to the point. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What my problem is?” he scoffed and took off his beanie to run a hand through his blond locks. “I did you a favor there, you know? The man is a fucking ass and you constantly let him walk over you like it’s nothing. That’s my fucking problem.”

“So what? You think that because you’re some big-shot CEO you can just force yourself into my life and mess with my job? What happened to staying out of my fucking business?” you bit back.

“This has nothing to do with me being a CEO and you know it. It’s about human decency and respect, which that piece of shit inside clearly doesn’t know anything about. If you can’t see why I had to say something, then you’re not the person I thought you were,” he snapped, a deep frown forming on his face.

“That’s just it! You don’t fucking know me, so why the hell do you even care? I’ve been doing fine without your help.”

“Fine?” He shook his head. “You call letting someone treat you like shit being fine? You’re not fooling me.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how I should feel, Mr. Know-It-All. Why can’t you get that through that big brain of yours?”

“Alright, you wanna be treated like crap? Be my guest,” he sneered, his eyes practically burning holes into your own. “But don’t be surprised when the whole thing backfires on you.”

“Just stay out of my business,” you warned, your stare just as intense as his. “That clear enough for you?”

“Don’t worry. I got the message,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes before ripping his car door open. “Stubborn woman,” he breathed, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

Who the hell was he calling stubborn? He was the one inserting himself in situations that didn’t concern him, so if anyone was stubborn, it was him. You weren’t about to tell him that, though, not if you wanted to prevent the situation from further escalating. Besides, you’d already spent more than enough time arguing with the man, so it was about time you ended it before it would start attracting curious passersby.

Instead, you chose to stay silent as he got inside the fancy vehicle.

“Oh.” You prevented his door from closing by quickly placing your hand on the door panel, which earned you a surprised look in return. “You better find a different coffee shop.”

With that, you took your leave and made your way back towards the shop, where there would no doubt be more problems awaiting you.

Turned out your boss was actually serious about firing you. After you returned from your little squabble with Melon pan dude, you walked straight into your worst nightmare.

With a few customers in the shop, your boss gave you a death glare that had you shaking in your boots, and then, not so subtly, motioned for you to meet him in the back. You knew that there was no way of getting out of this, but that didn’t make you any less nervous.

You were right to be so, though, because all hell broke loose the second you’d shut the door behind you.

First, he yelled at you for disobeying him, after which he had the audacity to throw some more ridiculous accusations about you and the CEO your way. And then before you knew it, the man fired you without even letting you get so much as a word in. He made you turn in all your things and practically escorted you out the back of the shop as soon as you’d packed up, all within the span of five minutes.

The whole thing was so surreal that it took a few minutes of you standing outside to process the fact that you were now officially out of a job. You’d never been fired before, so the gravity of the whole situation really hit you when you realized you had no plan B to fall back on.

How the hell were you going to find something else on such short notice? Digging into your hard-earned savings to pay your rent was not something you had ever planned on doing, but it certainly seemed like a possibility now that you lost your only source of income. And rightfully so, that thought made you anxious.

You walked home with tears streaming down your face that morning. By the time the first sob escaped from your lips, you’d already forced yourself to move out of the shop’s vicinity – you didn’t want to risk your now ex-boss seeing you so vulnerable. And yes, you knew that it was pathetic to cry over losing a job where you weren’t even happy, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you’d turned on the faucet without a way to turn it off.

There were definitely a bunch of curious stares and disapproving looks thrown your way as you tried to navigate through Seoul with your blurred vision. If it had been any other day, you’d have hated the attention, but in your state, you just had too much going through your head to focus on something so frivolous.

One overly concerned lady even came up to you, asking if everything was alright and if there was anything she could do for you. The gesture was sweet, but the last thing you wanted to do in that moment was explain your shitty situation to a complete stranger. So, instead of sharing your troubles with her, you tried to assure her that it was nothing but a bad day and that you’d be fine in no time. It actually took quite some convincing to shake her off, but after telling her multiple times that there really was nothing to worry about, she finally let you go.

Following that brief interaction, you decided to stop by JamJam to get yourself a plethora of consolidation snacks, including a bunch of melon pan that could last you a couple of days.

Mr. Hashimoto immediately took note of the state you were in as soon as you stepped inside the shop, greeting him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. Thankfully, he wasn’t one to pry and left you to it for the most part, which you very much appreciated. That was just the type of man he was, way too sweet for his own good.

In all your time of knowing Mr. Hashimoto, you didn’t think there had ever been a day he and his delicious treats hadn’t managed to cheer you up, which is probably why you visited the shop as much as you did.

Fortunately, that morning was no different – he gave you a generous discount and a few extra pastries that he knew you loved and sent you on your way with a few encouraging words and two bags full of heavenly goodies.

For the next few days that followed, you worked your way through those two bags without a care in the world. You alternated between crying your eyes out and stuffing your face with the sugary sweets while watching every true crime documentary you could find.

Only when there was nothing left for you to munch on or cry about, you decided that you’d had spent enough time wallowing in self-pity and forced yourself to crawl out of the blanket fort you had lived in for the past three days.

Being out of commission for a couple of days also meant that you hadn’t touched your phone since you’d entered your apartment and settled down in your blanket fort. But now that you had freshened up and sat down at your small dinner table with a fresh cup of coffee, your laptop, and your phone fully charged, you had to deal with the many missed calls and texts, most of them from your mom.

It wasn’t uncommon for her and your dad to check up on you at least once or twice a week. You knew there were plenty of people who would be ecstatic to receive all that attention from their parents, but not you.

All throughout your childhood and teenage years, your parents had felt the obsessive need to control every aspect of your life. It ranged from telling you how to style your hair and how to dress, to who you could or could not interact with.

It was so bad that the few friends that you did have eventually broke off all contact with you. You couldn’t blame them – because who wanted to hang out with a girl whose parents were so controlling and scary all the time?

But still, that didn’t make you feel any less lonely throughout the years.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there though. No. They even went as far as to sign you up for law school without so much as discussing it with you, basically forcing their preferred career path down your throat without a single regard for your wants and needs.

That’s really when you had enough. You didn’t want to go to some stupid law school, and you definitely didn’t want to follow in your dad’s footsteps and become a litigation lawyer. You wanted to be able to make your own decisions and get a taste of that adult life you’d been dreaming about for so long.

That’s why, after many many arguments and your parents threatening to cut you off, you finally made the decision to leave the place you’d called home for as long as you could remember.

When you first moved to Seoul, you didn’t have much aside from some money you had saved up. Your parents had lived up to their words and completely stopped giving you money, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from following your dreams of being independent.

For years, you had lived comfortably, never having to worry about being able to afford food, clothes, presents, you name it – one of the perks with your dad being a top lawyer and all. But with that luxury had come a ton of rules and restrictions that you wouldn’t even want to wish upon your worst enemy.

If finally being free meant that you actually had to work for your money for once, and struggle just like any other normal person, you were happy to do it. Besides, you never were about that fancy lifestyle anyway. A simple life where you could do whatever you wanted was all you needed.

So, you took on a couple of restaurant jobs to get yourself settled in, and as a result, you discovered your true passion – coffee making. You’d always been an avid coffee drinker and very much enjoyed the whole brewing process, but making a career out of it had never really crossed your mind. That was until you saw just how beautiful and satisfying the art of coffee making could be.

Seeing your barista co-workers create such pretty and tasty creations made you eager to try it out yourself, which eventually inspired you to enroll in a barista course and get your diploma.

Eventually, slowly but surely, after hours and hours of practicing your brewing and latte art skills, you became a true pro at your job.

It had taken a couple of years of you proving that you could make it out there without any help from your parents, but here you were, doing just fine without them. You were pretty sure they thought you’d come crawling back within no time and beg them to send you to that damn law school, but boy had they been wrong. When they understood that you were, in fact, not planning on coming back home, they gradually came around and dropped the whole “I want you to follow in your father’s footsteps” agenda.

At least, that’s what they made it seem like.

Initially, you’d been happy about the regular calls with your parents, mainly because you thought that they were genuinely happy for you and had finally accepted the barista path you’d chosen. But as the weeks passed, you realized that was far from the truth. Your parents might have thought they were being slick with their ‘positive’ approach, but it didn’t take you long to see right through it.

The constant calls were simply a means to keep an eye on you, making sure that you weren’t making a fool out of yourself in their absence while at the same time jumping at every opportunity to criticize your barista work.

It was for that exact reason you decided it was best not to tell your parents about the whole getting fired thing. Because although your friends were in the loop about your work situation, your parents definitely weren’t – and you liked keeping it that way. As far as they knew, you had an amazing job with a stable income and a boss who valued your work. Knowing how much they disapproved of your big move and career choice, this news would simply give them a reason to tell you a big fat “I told you so,” and you really didn’t want to hear any of that.

It was already bad enough that you’d ended up in this situation in the first place, so any form of negativity from your parents on top of that was something you didn’t think you could handle right now.

What you did need was a new job… fast. Because if you had to spend another week cooped up in your apartment feeling sorry for yourself, you would no doubt lose it.

Unfortunately, that task proved to be harder than you thought. While there were many barista opportunities in a big city such as Seoul, none of them particularly caught your attention.

The majority of the coffee shops out there only offered part-time positions, which you had no choice but to cross off your list. With only two or three days of work, you’d be forced to take on another job if you wanted to be able to afford rent, andthat was definitely out of the question.

As for the full-time positions you could find, they would all put you in a position that was way less favorable than you were currently in – living from paycheck to paycheck was not something you ever wanted to go back to. But then again, it wasn’t like you were in any position to be picky either.

“Ugh, what am I gonna do?” you groaned, slamming your laptop shut before burying your face into your hands in frustration.

If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be out of a job and considering a downgrade in salary, you probably would have declared them insane. But low and behold, that was the reality you were currently living, and it made you angrier than you would have expected.

You were angry at your asshole ex-boss for treating you like crap and always thinking the worst of you. You were angry at your lousy excuse of a co-worker, Sanghoon, for feeding your ex-boss a bunch of lies about you behind your back and basically throwing you under the bus despite all the shit you’d done to save his ass. Hell, you were even angry at yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you and allowing it to end the way it did. But absolutely nothing beat the anger you felt towards the man who had been at the center of it all – Melon pan dude.

Everything had been going just fine until that entitled prick showed up and decided to ruin your life. Perhaps ‘just fine’ wasn’t the best way to describe it, but at least you had been able to get by all that time without any major issues.

Then he came along and changed everything, whether he intended to or not.

Honestly, the more you thought about it, the more you felt like you should have known that he would be trouble the moment he set foot inside the shop.

Somewhere deep inside, you probably already knew he would be trouble, especially given the circumstances of your first meeting. Oh, and who could forget about the orange juice incident? Or the encounter with Mrs. Park? Not to mention the numerous provocations he had thrown your way over the past week and a half.

But even despite all of that, you never could have known that the CEO would indirectly become the reason for your getting fired.

Of course, you weren’t completely innocent either. You could have taken the time to think things through and approached the situation calmly, but instead, you let your emotions get the better of you and chose to confront him in the middle of your shift with your superior right there.

Then again, if only the dude hadn’t opened his big mouth, your ex-boss wouldn’t have said those awful things about you and him in the first place. And as a result of that, you wouldn’t have gone outside to look for him, and your boss wouldn’t have had to threaten you with your job – in other words, all of this could have been prevented if he had just stayed away from Oh My! Coffee like he said he would.

The man just had a talent for worming his way into people’s business and getting on their nerves. How he got away with it every single time was beyond you.

Your guess was that being managing CEO of a multi-billion-dollar business had something to do with that. Being in that position also meant that he would never have to worry about getting fired or running out of savings, and it just wasn’t fair. While you were out here being miserable, he was out there living his life while driving around in his fancy sports car, probably not even aware of the disaster he’d caused with his meddling.

Just what was so special about him? You didn’t get it.

Without even realizing it you’d already opened up your laptop once again, this time for a completely different purpose. You’d vowed to never research the man and become one of those people, but it was like your fingers had a mind of their own.

You needed to know what he was like outside of your interactions with him, so where better to look than the Internet?

Job ads long forgotten, you typed in the CEO’s name and clicked on one of the first articles that popped up. It was one of him closing a business deal with some big international corporation that would make him and the other CEOs of SEVENTEEN World even richer than they already were. Good for them and all, but it wasn’t exactly the type of content you were looking for.

If you wanted the gossip and details about his social life, you needed to turn to the blogs instead. That’s how you eventually ended up on Dispatch’s website, scouring their many articles about the man for anything that seemed interesting enough.

It didn’t take long for you to find something useful. You discovered that he had a younger sister who was a successful lawyer at a high-end law firm. There wasn’t really a lot of information aside from some details about his sister and a few pictures of the two of them together, so you were about to close it and move on to something else.

That was until you stumbled on another article that was linked to the one you were reading. The post was a little older – as in three years older – and the title read ‘Protective or Controlling? What to make of SEVENTEEN World’s CEO Choi Seungcheol?’.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” you snorted as you skimmed through the article with a newfound curiosity.

If you had to believe everything that was being said, he was extremely protective of her. Or, as others have described, perhaps a little controlling at times. The article mentioned a couple of instances, but the one that stood out most was the SEVENTEEN World anniversary party, where apparently, several reporters had noticed the CEO clinging to his sister’s side for pretty much the entirety of the evening.

Dispatch had even included a video with a little snippet of said event, where you could clearly see what the article had described in detail.

“Poor woman,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched how the man shamelessly pulled his sister away from the small group of men she had been happily conversing with.

It was quite obvious from her facial expressions that she was anything but happy with her brother’s actions, but she just went along with it for the public’s sake, no doubt.

Seeing all of that reminded you a little bit of you and your parents back when you were still in high school. They had been less obvious than the CEO in their approach, but they were always very clear about keeping you away from “people not worth your time” or whatever the hell that meant.

So naturally, you felt bad seeing someone as successful as her having to deal with something – or rather someone – like that. But who knows? Perhaps he was, in fact, doing it to protect her for reasons not mentioned in the article. You could only infer so much from a couple of described instances and a 20-second-long clip without any additional context regarding their history.

The only thing you did know for sure after doing your little research was that his love for sticking his nose in people’s business was not just restricted to you.

By the time you finally ripped your eyes away from your laptop to check the time, a good hour and a half had passed since you started looking into Melon pan dude. You had been so caught up in trying to dig up information about the guy that you’d completely lost sight of your initial goal – finding a job that would pay the bills.

See? Even when he wasn’t around, he still had the ability to mess with your mind… and you hated it.

“Get your shit together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself as you sat back down behind your laptop after a short break, now with a new cup of coffee to motivate yourself for another hour or two.

But that coffee only lasted you so long, and so did your motivation.

Just thirty minutes into your search you had already reached the point where you wanted to shut your laptop and call it a day. You almost did actually, already in the process of closing all your tabs when the Dispatch tab you’d forgotten to get rid of before distracted you again.

Only this time, it wasn’t an article that caught your attention but a job ad that had popped up on the right side of the screen. It was a barista opportunity, which, ironically enough, came from Cat Café SEVENTEEN, one of SEVENTEEN World’s large enterprises.

For just a moment after clicking the ad, you hesitated. Not because you hated the idea of working at a cat café, but because of its association with Melon pan dude, whom you wanted to avoid at all costs. That thought alone was enough not to want to entertain the idea in the first place. But then you made the mistake of glimpsing at the proposed salary, which threw all those thoughts right out the window.

The pay was at least a twenty percent upgrade from your salary at Oh My! Coffee for only five days a week, which was crazy, considering you used to work six days a week plus unpaid overtime. On top of that, you would be working evenings for the majority of your shifts, which meant extra time to sleep and worry-free mornings. Considering the fact that you were not a morning person, this arrangement would be more than fine with you.

And then there was, of course, the fact that it was a freaking cat café. You hadn’t yet had the chance to visit their Seoul location – or any location for that matter – but from what you’d read on the official website, customers were highly encouraged to play and cuddle with the cats during their visits. You were a big animal lover, with cats and dogs tying at the top of your list, so it only made the place seem that much more appealing.

The obvious connection between the café and Melon pan dude did briefly cross your mind again as you read through the vacancy, but those worries were quick to dissipate when you stumbled upon a list of the twenty cats currently residing at the café.

Who in their right mind could say no to those cute little faces? You definitely couldn’t, nor did you want to pass up on such a great opportunity.

That’s why you decided to send in your application before that little voice in the back of your mind could convince you to back out.

In all honesty, you were prepared for the worst – especially seeing as bad luck just seemed to follow you wherever you went – which is why you were all the more shocked when you got an email notification not even three hours later. You’d been in the middle of drinking yet another cup of coffee, which you nearly spit out at the sight of the sender and subject header.

“No fucking way,” you breathed, a small smile forming on your lips as you carefully read through the email. Maybe there was still a little bit of luck left in you after all.

“Y/N, right?”

“Yes. Thank you for considering me, Mr. Choi,” you greeted the man you’d come to know as the CEO of Cat Café SEVENTEEN – Choi Hansol.

You would expect him to be super busy, having to manage all those cafes in different locations and all. But here he was, meeting you for your interview as if he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t know whether to be honored or anxious.

“No need to be so formal,” he chuckled before sitting down a comfortable-looking chair. “Just Vernon is fine. Please. Take a seat.”

“Right. Thank you,” you mumbled and sat down in the other available chair.

Now that you were sitting right across from the man, you suddenly felt the nerves creep into your body. The way he had made it sound on paper was everything you could have dreamed of – almost too good to be true even. But you truly hoped that wasn’t all it was because if you had to relive another Oh My! Coffee experience, you were going to punch a wall.

“Your resume is impressive. Barista certificates, work experience, and people skills. We’ve been looking for another experienced barista for quite some time now,” he nodded before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “If you don’t mind me asking, is there a specific reason you left your previous job?”

“Oh, uh, I…” Shit. Now what? Telling your prospective boss that you got fired from your previous job would certainly not help you leave a good first impression. However, lying was also not how you wanted to go about it. “Well, it’s a little complicated, I guess,” was all you could come up with in your panic.

Way to fuck it up, Y/N.

“Complicated, huh?” the CEO mused, his brows furrowing as he studied the documents in front of him.

Oh no. Was this going to be the moment he tells you it isn’t going to work out after all?

“Let me guess? You got fired?”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at his speculation. “Yes,” you whispered before quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment. This interview was so not going how you wanted it to go.

“I see. Your resume tells me you worked at Oh My! Coffee, which means that Park Wonshik must have been your boss, correct?” He waited for your confirmation, which you gave by slowly nodding your head while wondering where he was going with this. “Well, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a couple of things about the man. Word travels around fast in my world and he’s known to have a rather… how should I say this? Unorthodox way of handling things, I guess is the right way to put it?” he chuckled.

“You could say that,” you muttered, feeling a surge of anger spread through your body at the thought of that jackass. Watch him ruin your chances of getting another job without even having to lift a goddamn finger.

The sound of paper rustling snapped you out of your little trance. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to hold this against you,” he started while folding the documents he’d been looking at just a few moments ago. “We’ve all had to deal with shitty bosses at some point, so no need to look so scared,” he grinned, which took you by surprise.

“I’m willing to give everyone a chance if I think they’re a fit. I’d like to think of myself as a pretty laid-back boss, so as long as you work hard, we won’t have any problems.”

Well, that was definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Perhaps you’d been too quick to jump to conclusions.

After having spent less than ten minutes in his presence, you could already tell that the CEO sitting in front of you was the complete opposite of the CEO who had made your life hell for the past two weeks.

For one, he did not give off ‘entitled prick’ vibes. On the contrary, he seemed like one of the most chill guys you’d ever met. If you hadn’t done your research and looked him up before meeting him, there was no way you would have believed someone like him to be one of the country’s most successful businessmen. The fact that he was conducting your interview in jeans and a simple white t-shirt paired with a jean jacket told you as much. You were all for it, though. A suit would have made the whole thing much more formal, and seeing as you were nervous enough as it was, the casual outfit certainly helped relieve some of the tension.

You just needed to make sure he liked you enough to hire you.

“Alright!” The CEO clapped his hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have a very important question to ask you,” he said, suddenly turning very serious as he slightly leaned himself forward.

“How do you feel about cats?”

You couldn’t help but release the breath you’d unknowingly been holding, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. “Oh, I love cats! Lived with three of them back home, so I’m very comfortable around them,” you smiled brightly.

The man across from you nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. “Good, I just wanted to be sure. We’re a cat café after all, so you’ll be stuck with them every shift,” he laughed, which you returned with laughter of your own.

“Oh, please. I hardly see that as a punishment. If I’m being honest, the cats were actually the reason I was so excited to come here in the first place,” you confessed, hoping that it didn’t make you sound like a complete suck-up. It was true though. Their presence would no doubt make your workdays much more bearable.

“Is that so? Well, in that case, would you like to meet them?”

You were already nodding before he’d even finished his sentence. “I’d love that, Sir.”

“Didn’t I tell you to drop the formalities?” he grinned while getting up from his chair.

“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, not used to being so informal with a higher-up.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head, motioning you to get up. “You coming or what?”

You nearly jumped out of your chair at his question, already thrilled at the thought of getting to meet every single one of those adorable kitties.

“Yes, right behind you!”

He ended up guiding you out of his office and through part of the café before opening a door that led to a large, cozy-looking room.

The giant space was filled with cat trees and houses of various sizes, fancy cat beds, and an abundance of cat toys, some of which you didn’t even know existed. Most of the walls were decorated with jumping platforms, tiny ladders, and cute hammocks suitable for cats, which gave it a little bit of a playground vibe.

It was like you’d stepped right into cat paradise, and you loved everything about it. You literally couldn’t stop admiring while the CEO provided you with more information.

“This is the room the cats reside in when the café is closed. Since we open at ten, we already moved them into the café, but I just wanted to give you a better picture of how we do things around here.”

“Is there anyone who checks up on the cats during the night?” you asked, noticing a few cameras mounted to the ceiling.

“Yes, we have a special caretaker who checks up on them twice a night. He usually helps me move the cats from one room to the next after closing and makes sure they get the right food and treatments. We have a vet on call in case of emergencies as well. Oh, and she also does their monthly check-ups.”

“Wow, that sounds like a great system,” you replied, finally managing to put your full focus on the CEO once again.

“We kinda have to with so many cats,” he snickered before motioning you to follow him again. “Without this system, we wouldn’t be able to do even a quarter of the things we’re doing.”

You quickly followed behind him, trying your best to store all the information he was telling you while trying not to trip over your own feet.

He finally stopped in front of another door, this time a larger and prettier one that was made entirely out of glass. Now that you got a good look at it, you observed that the walls in this part of the café were made of glass as well.

Realizing that you were admiring the glass construction, the CEO turned to face you. “Pretty isn’t it? During the designing phase, I decided to section off a small part of the café and turn it into a cat-free zone. With a lot of people coming in for their to-go orders, we just didn’t want to put unnecessary stress on the cats. Also, there are several regulars who love our drinks and sweets but don’t want to be surrounded by cats all the time, so it works out perfectly,” he explained.

“That’s actually… genius. You’re so smart,” you mumbled, which earned another laugh from the CEO.

“I know right? I have my moments.”

“Right. Of course you do,” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

Of course he was smart. How else would he have become so successful? Obviously not by making a bunch of impulsive decisions.

“You ready?” he looked at you expectantly.

“Very.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he opened the big glass doors. Your eyes went wide at the sight that greeted you.

This part of the café was huge, even bigger than the cat room you’d been in before. Aside from the cat trees and wall-climbing constructions that could also be found in the other room, this room had a completely different vibe.

First, you noticed that there were numerous small benches placed against the walls throughout the entire room, with another few dozen small tables located in the center to utilize the space to its full capacity. Then your eyes fell on a big open area on the left side of the room, which was decorated with a variety of bean bags and two large boxes with plenty of cat toys to choose from.

It was another cat paradise. That was for sure.

You were – again – so distracted by the layout of the room that you hadn’t even noticed the ball of fur approaching you. “Oh! Hi there, cutie. Who might you be?” you cooed at the cat that was now rubbing against your legs.

“That’s Aeng-Du. She’s a curious one. Feel free to pick her up. She loves attention and cuddles.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement after that and quickly leaned down to scoop the fluffy cat into your arms. It was the best feeling ever and you wished it didn’t have to come to an end. The last time you held a cat was years ago, so you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to cuddle one – heavenly, that was the only way to describe it.

Not long after that, other cats started showing up. There was Suk, whom you were told was a very clingy baby who needed lots of cuddles. There were Kyu and Hae, two siblings who were found in a dumpster and now living their best lives at the cat café. There was Bin, who was described as the clumsy one of the group, always tripping over his own paws. And there were many more, but there simply wasn’t enough time to pet them all.

There was, however, one cat that seemed reluctant to approach you, never straying too far from the CEO but at the same time keeping an eye on you at all times.

“Who’s that?” You pointed to the cat hiding behind the CEO’s legs.

“This? This is Jang-Mi, one of our newest additions. She’s been getting along with the other cats just fine, but she’s still a little scared when it comes to meeting new people. She just needs some time to warm up,” he said and leaned down to scratch her cute little forehead.

“Are you familiar with our concept?”

“I am!” you nodded, smiling down at a now fast-asleep Suk in your arms. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re giving these cats a chance to find a new home like this. They’re adorable.”

You thought the concept of a café and adoption center in one was simply ingenious. While the cats were given the chance to find their forever homes like this, customers were able to find a furry friend they could shower with love and affection. And the relaxing atmosphere certainly helped them get closer in a more natural setting. It was a win-win situation.

“Who knows? You might end up adopting one yourself at some point. They are very hard to resist,” he smirked.

“I wish,” you sighed.

Although the thought of adopting a cat was very tempting, your small apartment was not at all suitable for a cat. Besides, your landlord didn’t allow pets, so that was definitely out of the question… for now, at least.

“Ah, before I forget, there’s one final test.”

“Final test?” you questioned, gently placing Suk inside one of the cat beds near the closest wall.

“Yes. You don’t think I’d let you prepare coffee for my customers without having tasted it, right?”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved that it wasn’t anything impossible. “Of course, Si- Vernon,” you quickly corrected yourself when you noticed him giving you a look. It was going to take a while to get used to the first-name basis thing.

Reluctantly, you left the kitties behind to do what you actually came here to do – making coffee.

Vernon introduced you to Jay and Areum, two very bubbly staff members who took care of most of the serving and assisted with the making of non-caffeinated drinks during the busy hours.

You also met Jia, the barista responsible for the morning shift, who was kind enough to tell you all you needed to know. It was so refreshing to see that, unlike Sanghoon, all of them actually knew what they were doing and contributed something rather than sitting on their asses all day.

If you did end up getting the job by some miracle, you at least wouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself like you’d been doing for over two years.

After that short information session, Vernon instructed you to make a few of the most popular coffee drinks on the menu for him to taste: an iced Americano, a flat white, a vanilla latte, an espresso, and a cappuccino.

The task sounded easy enough. If anything, you’d probably be able to do all of those with your eyes closed, latte art included. But seeing as you didn’t want to come off as cocky when you hadn’t even gotten the job yet, you chose to keep that particular comment to yourself and quickly got to work with the knowledge Jia had bestowed upon you.

Since all the coffee machines were very high-end – and much better than the ones that were available at Oh My! Coffee – it took you even less time than it normally would have taken you to finish your task. Jia was there with you the entire time, watching carefully as you did your thing, and only commented here and there when you needed help finding a specific tool or syrup.

“Wow. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone complete five orders,” Jia gawked after you’d placed the final order on your tray.

“Oh, really?” you asked, surprised, and turned your head just in time to see her nodding.

“Yes,” she chuckled. “I don’t even think I’d be able to do that, and I’ve been working here for a few years now.”

“Well, thanks, I guess?” you grinned, happy to receive a compliment from a fellow barista. It made you feel extra good about the coffees you made, so you were all too eager to pick up the tray and take it to Vernon, who was sitting at one of the smaller tables.

“Finished already?” he asked, briefly glancing at his watch when you announced your presence. “I have to say I’m usually more of a quality over quantity kind of person, but I’m pretty impressed. The latte art is fantastic, very fitting,” he nodded as he admired the cute cats you’d shaped on three of the coffees.

“Thank you. I hope they are to your liking,” you said, crossing your fingers behind your back as he picked up the glass filled with iced Americano first.

Watching him try your coffee creations was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things you’d experienced in a long time. It wasn’t like you weren’t confident in your skills – because you were – but the CEO’s face remained so stoic for the entirety of it that it made you wonder if you’d done something wrong.

What if the coffee was too strong? Or what if the foam wasn’t to his liking? Those were the types of questions that kept going through your mind as you waited for his verdict.

“So, the thing is,” he started after having tried all of the five drinks. “I actually don’t enjoy drinking coffee.”

Wait, what?

How the hell was he supposed to judge your brewing skills if he didn’t even like the taste of coffee? The man literally ran a café where the majority of the clientele consisted of coffee drinkers for god’s sake.

“I see,” you frowned, not knowing whether to cry or laugh at the information he had just shared with you.

Sensing your confusion, Vernon motioned for you to sit down across from him.

“I usually get one of my friends to try the coffee, but no one was available today,” he explained when you’d sat down. Ah. That made a little more sense, even though it did nothing to calm your raging nerves. “And judging by your facial expression, I should probably just get straight to the point, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you blurted without another thought, just wanting to get rid of this uncertainty you were feeling.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, seemingly amused with your reaction. “What I’m saying is that your coffee is good, better than good even. Hell, I might even start drinking coffee if it’s always going to be like this,” he stated.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the praise. “Wow, I- Are you serious?” you stammered, feeling at a complete loss of words.

A non-coffee drinker telling you your coffee was so good that it could potentially convert him was the ultimate compliment in your eyes.

“Do you see me as someone who would joke about such things?”

“Would you hate me if I said yes?”

“I like you,” he smirked before taking another sip of the cappuccino you’d prepared.

“So, does that mean you’re hiring me or…?”

He placed the coffee cup he was holding back onto the tray. “That depends on what your answer to my next question is going to be.”

“Okay?” you gulped nervously, waiting for him to speak.

The CEO leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as a grin slowly made its way onto his face.

“Can you start tomorrow?”

“Vernon, everything good?” Seungcheol asked as soon as he picked up his friend’s call.

It was very much unlike Vernon to call him – or anyone for that matter – with the exception of emergencies. He was more of a texter, and any work-related calls were usually handled by his personal secretary, Cho Byungho, so for him to call Seungcheol on a random weeknight was somewhat worrisome.

“Yeah, Hyung. Everything is fine, no worries,” Vernon assured his friend. “The reason I’m calling you is to tell you that you need to come to the café for some coffee.”

Well, thatwas not what the CEO expected to come out of his mouth. He’d been prepared for something bad, not his friend inviting him for a goddamn coffee.

“You called to tell me that? I stepped out of an important meeting with Jeonghan to take your call. What the hell happened to your no-call policy?”

“Yeah, about that…” Vernon cleared his throat. “I had to make an exception for this. Listen, you’re still looking for a new coffee place, right? Well, I just so happened to have found a new barista. And you also know how I’m not a fan of coffee, right? I had a few sips and let me tell you my mind was blown, that’s how good it was. She’s like a freaking coffee guru.”

The man wasn’t wrong. Seungcheol was indeed still looking for a new coffee place.

Ever since your argument the other day, he hadn’t been back at Oh My! Coffee and he intended to keep it that way. You had finally gotten what you wanted. Not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Just the thought of having to face you again after that was enough to make his blood boil.

How could someone as mouthy as you be so stubborn to let that pathetic excuse of a boss belittle you on a daily basis? Seungcheol just didn’t get it. And he didn’t want to stick around for it either, regardless of how good the coffee was. But unfortunately, that decision also meant that he was back to square one, trying to find a coffee bar that matched the quality of your coffee.

“How good can it be? Last time you said you found someone good I ended up throwing that shit away,” Seungcheol scoffed, recalling the bitter coffee one of Vernon’s previous baristas had prepared for him.

“I’m telling you, it’s different this time. She just started, but customers are loving it already. I have no doubt you will love it too.”

The coffee at the café had never been up to the CEO’s standards, so he had a hard time believing that it would actually be different this time. And the fact that the cat café owner wasn’t exactly the best judge when it came to coffee didn’t help his case either.

“I don’t have time for this shit, Vernon,” Seungcheol sighed, already feeling like he’d wasted enough time with this pointless conversation.

“Come on, Hyung!” the other man whined. “Just stop by after you’re done with your meeting. And take Jeonghan Hyung with you too. It’s been ages since you both visited the café.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, praying that the other CEO would let him get back to his meeting if he just agreed to it. “But you’re paying.”

“As if I would ever let you pay. See you later!” was the last thing Vernon said before abruptly ending the call.

“This guy,” Seungcheol mumbled with a shake of his head before returning to the conference room.

About two and a half hours later, the two CEOs found themselves in Seungcheol’s car, driving towards Cat Café SEVENTEEN. Their meeting had dragged on for far too long – way longer than the one and a half they had initially scheduled – so both men were glad to be done with it. Although Seungcheol had been reluctant to pay a visit to the café not too long ago, the thought of getting a dose of caffeine after that tiresome ordeal sounded like music to his ears.

“So, what exactly did Vernon tell you about this new barista?” Jeonghan asked from the passenger seat.

“Nothing aside from the fact that her coffee is good,” Seungcheol shrugged.

The fashion CEO couldn’t help but snort at that. “Vernon said her coffee was good? The man doesn’t even like coffee.”

“Tell me about it. That’s why I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I’m definitely intrigued,” Jeonghan chuckled. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to ask you yet, but what’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked, knowing very well what Jeonghan was referring to. He just wasn’t in the mood to talk about any of it, not even with his best friend.

“You’ve been acting… I don’t know, strange?”

“I’m not doing anything different, so I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded, hoping that the other CEO would just drop the subject.

“Now that’s some bullshit. You’re suddenly doing these random check-ins without announcing yourself beforehand. You never used to do that.”

“So what? I just want to be more involved, is that so wrong?” Seungcheol frowned, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.

“It’s not wrong. It’s just odd, that’s all.”

“Well, there’s nothing going on. Just drop it, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol snapped as he turned off the car engine.

The other man sighed in defeat as he opened the car door, knowing he was not going to get much more out of his friend. “If you say so.”

What Jeonghan didn’t know was that there was, in fact, a reason Seungcheol was suddenly dropping in for surprise visits at every single one of the SEVENTEEN World HQs.

With the news of his other best friend and his sister being in an intimate relationship, he’d made it his mission to keep an even closer eye on the two of them. In the best-case scenario, he would catch them red-handed, either at or outside of work.

However, in order to achieve that, he needed to be as subtle as possible, which was a lot harder than he thought with so many eyes on him. Because if he only targeted Wonwoo, the other CEOs and their secretaries were bound to get suspicious, which is why he’d come up with the current tactic – check up on each of the CEOs to cover up the fact that he was actually only interested in Wonwoo.

As for his sister, she was no doubt wondering what the hell had possessed him, with his sudden interest in her personal life and his frequent unannounced visits at the oddest times. But Seungcheol didn’t care. He was determined to see this through to the end – that is, he would play along with their lies until he was ready to confront the two.

“Hyungs!” Vernon called out from behind the counter as soon as the CEO pair had walked through the door.

“Sup, Vernon?” Jeonghan greeted, raising his hand to greet his other friend.

“Come meet the barista I’ve been telling you about,” Vernon said excitedly as he motioned to the woman standing by his side.

“Cheol?” Jeonghan asked, noticing that his friend had stopped walking and was instead shooting daggers at something ahead.

The CEO in question suddenly understood what Vernon had been talking about when he said it would be different this time, and he definitely understood why his friend had been so utterly positive about the quality of his new barista’s coffee. Because the barista Vernon had been praising was you, the woman who’d made the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but also the woman he so desperately wanted to avoid.

Why the hell were you here?

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

AAAND THAT'S A WRAP FOR PART ONE OF MELON PANG! Hope you enjoyed and want to come back for more 🤭

I am not sure yet when part two is going to be released, but I will keep you updated as much as I can! All I can say is that it's going to be interesting hehe 👀 Expect a lot more interaction between Cheol and the reader + other CEOs.

Feedback/comments/reblogs are highly appreciated!

☀ if you want to be added to the tag list (or removed), leave a comment, or send me an ask and specify that you want to be tagged for my SEVENTEEN World tag list!

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thewordswewrite · 4 months

Text

Like Winter, Like Spring

Pairing | Mizu x Fem!Reader

Summary | After the events of episode five, Mizu stumbles into the forest barely clinging to life and you happen to be hunting.

Or what would happen if you found Mizu bleeding out and cared for her (in more ways than one)?

Warnings | NSFW 18+, mentions of injury/blood/killing

W/C | 7.3k

A/N | I’ve been consumed by this show and can't help but recommend it to everyone, so please if you haven't already done so, watch it. Please leave me some comments and lmk what you think!!-Smoe<33

AO3 | Link

Donations | Link

Part Ⅰ: Winter

In the moonlit haze, a spirit roams, lost and cold, whispers of vengeance unfold, onryo's bitter gaze.

The snow soaked through your socks as you took exaggerated steps through the powder, cold seeping into your toes and numbing them. Though you had enough firewood to last until the first thaw, your food stores were beginning to dwindle. It had been a harsh winter, one your father hadn’t survived, leaving you to fend for yourself. Your day had been one of minor success; three rabbits hung from the rope tied around your waist, a haul good enough for the next few nights based on their size and you decided to head home.

Food was becoming harder to come by, and without your father, you could not venture into Mihonoseki to stock up on more dried goods. Your father had always been of more liberal views but you were still a woman and he was still your father meaning you knew where you stood in society. Due to necessity alone, your father taught you to hunt; a bow and arrow the ‘only thing suited to a woman’ your father once told you.

You pulled your scarf tighter around your head as the wind whipped around you, snow falling harder and harder as you walked. You were sure anyone else other than you caught in the storm would be utterly lost, but you knew the place like the back of your hand. As the wind howled, it carried to you the sounds of the forest and with it a distant grunt of pain, just loud enough for your keen ears to pick up on and you stilled. You would have ignored it–a lone man more often than not meaning trouble–but he was headed in the direction of your home and therefore you needed to act. With your brow set, you sank into a crouch and rifled through the snow until your unfeeling fingers grasped a rock, waiting for another sound from the man.

A hunter knew how to stalk its prey and in that moment you treated the man as nothing more. With every sound he made you got closer, using the noise from the environment to mask your own as you trailed him. In the distance, you caught sight of someone clad in navy and in the opposite direction of your home, threw the rock. You hadn’t been too worried until you heard the ‘shing’ of a katana and the crash of a tree.

A samurai.

It could be no one else with that blade or skill, and though they were meant to be honorable, you knew, they were still men. You knew every road, every tree that grew in these woods and as you were coming back up on the main trail where the samurai fled, one was struck down. Your pale hand reached out to stroke the clean-cut trunk, not yet five years old by your count and yet it had fallen. It was mindless acts of violence like this that made you distrustful of strangers.

A quick glance at the area revealed a small trail of blood, likely left by the man, and you couldn’t help but let a rueful smile grace your lips. His death would be easier than you thought. Cold, lost, and injured was a dangerous combination for anyone, but for a man in your woods? It was lethal.

You were soundless as you descended upon your prey, a respectable distance away but close enough to see his profile. He was dressed in simple pants and a shirt, though the latter looked to be soaked through with blood as one of his hands pressed against his stomach, the other grasping a blue blade, ripe for attack. It was too easy for you to nock an arrow and draw, your breath steadying as you aimed for his heart. You were preparing for the release when suddenly to your left a twig snapped and the samurai’s gaze turned to the noise, and then onto you.

The man raised his sword, removing his hand from his side to give the encounter his full attention. “Who sent you?”

You were puzzled by the question. Not only were you clearly a woman, but who was he that he thought himself important enough to have assassins sent after him? You didn’t think to voice these questions aloud but they were answered anyway when you finally caught sight of his eyes: blue.

When he spoke again, he must have registered that you were not who he thought you were. “I am no threat to you. I am just passing through.” To prove his point he sheathed his blade and put up his hands.

You hesitated to drop your own weapon but since he was injured and still a good enough distance away, you let-down your bow and stood to your full height, noticing the man was not much taller than you.

“Leave here!” You shouted, hands still latched to your grip and arrow, ready to fire should the need arise.

The samurai began backing up slowly, nodding to you and returning pressure to the wound at his side. When he did so, he grunted and his eyes fluttered. It all seemed to happen in a single moment when he was suddenly face down in the snow and you were taking brisk but weary steps towards him. As you got closer, the extent of his injuries became clearer and you could see the tips of his ears and nose red from the cold. Your eyes closed in exasperation; you hadn’t intended to stumble across a half-white, dying samurai let alone bring him to your home, but seeing as you weren’t too far away and he had shown no intention of attacking you, you could not, in good conscience, leave him in the snow to die.

With a huff, you flipped the man over, grabbed him under the arms, and began to haul him toward your home, the dense snow making the task almost more difficult than you could manage. You knew he was alive based solely on the noises of discomfort he released in his sleep as you readjusted your grip and pulled harder. You were forced to stop every few feet, panting from the effort it took but when you finally were able to kick open your door and get him in front of the fireplace, you felt a sense of relief.

As you pulled up the samurai’s kimono, you got a glimpse of four deep gashes punctured into his stomach and your heart dropped. “Please stay with me.”

It was immediately apparent to you what had caused his wounds: Boss Hamata, or more accurately, his Thousand-Claw Army. That would explain why he thought someone had sent you after him and why he was covered in so much more blood than what was plausibly his own. Anxiety sent goosebumps down your arms. The thought of one of Boss Hamata’s men coming to your home and killing the both of you for whatever this samurai did entered your mind. You tried to reason with yourself; no man in his right mind would enter this storm and they must know the samurai was injured, likely only letting him go because he was sure to die. That was that you decided: he could stay until the storm passed and not a second longer. Enough time, by the looks of it, for him to heal enough to leave but not enough for anyone to come knocking at your door looking for him.

With your mind made up, you went about untying his kimono to get better access to his wound. Your still-warming fingers deftly undid the knot and moved to unwrap the samurai when suddenly a hand shot up and wrapped itself around your wrist, halting your actions.

“No.” The man’s eyes fought to open and you were once again treated to a glimpse of blue through thick black lashes. He was only able to mutter the single word before he once again fell unconscious and you stared at him a beat longer.

He didn’t have the luxury of his warning being granted, and you instead opened his shirt, only to find his chest already wrapped. Or rather her chest already wrapped. A gasp escaped you as you balked at the sight, eyes darting again to the face of the person below you and noticing not only the sharp curve of their jaw but the softness of their cheeks and decidedly feminine-looking lips. Yes, you stopped your thoughts from drifting, she was a woman, but that made your job no different.

With clinical movements, you cleaned her wound with warm water, being sure to be as gentle as possible. You retrieved a suture kit your father had gotten from town after you had cut yourself chopping wood one day and began to sterilize the needle over the fire. You ran your fingers over the inflamed skin and worried when the woman’s stomach felt warm. The stitches were quick and clean, the woman below you making no movements which worried you but did make the process easier. Once each of the four gashes was closed, you wrapped up her stomach with strips of fabric and struggled to remove her soaked shirt–though, you left her pants for the sake of her already violated modesty.

You looked at her face once again, now less troubled looking than before, and saw hints of purple peeking out from under her scarf. Much like her shirt you undid her scarf as well and were horrified to see a deep purple handprint marring her skin. With little else you could do you opened your door, the wind catching it as you did so, slamming it open in your rush to gather enough snow to compress onto the samurai’s neck.

Another gust wafted flurries into your home, chilling the room before you could close the door in time and you cursed. You wrapped the snow in the previously discarded scarf and placed it on the samurai’s neck in hopes it would ease the pain. As tightly as you could, you bundled the woman in your father’s blanket and placed your own rolled-up one under her head as support after taking her katana and placing it across the room. Just in case.

With nothing else to do to try and keep her alive, you finally got to skinning the rabbits and making yourself dinner. You decided to wait until the woman was awake until you tried to feed her and thus only made enough for yourself. The food was hearty and warm and after the exertion you surrendered to the day, you were exhausted. In lieu of having a blanket, you threw on a second kimono and huddled close to your guest and the fire and, in an act of trust, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

- ⚔ -

You startled awake at the sound of someone shuffling around your home but all at once the memories of the day before come back to you.

“You’re awake,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes as you looked over at the half-clothed samurai propped up against your wall.

“You stitched my wounds. Why?” The woman’s voice was thick and gravelly but you could only focus on her eyes.

Your answer was simple and steadfast. “I could not leave you when you meant me no harm.”

The woman seemed to scan your face and must have found what she was looking for when she relaxed and coughed at the simple action. You took the lull to stand and place your kettle on the fire, intending on making sobacha tea for your guest. Her entire demeanor shifted when you moved and she realized she was without her sword.

“Where is my katana?” The woman ground out, eyes darting around the space.

You gestured silently to where it lay on the other side of the room and went back to pouring the tea, steeping it to your liking and hoping it was to the tastes of the woman across from you. You handed a steaming cup to the woman and cleared your throat, intending to find out more about your mysterious guest. You watched as she took a sip of the tea and closed her eyes for a moment to savor the flavor or feeling you were unsure but either way were happy she approved.

“What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The woman paused before she answered, “Mizu.”

You introduced yourself and went about using the final two rabbits you killed to make a stew as well as some rice to help fill up. The silence between you two was undemanding as Mizu simply sat with her eyes closed while you cooked. It wasn’t long before you’d finished, offering a bowl to your guest which she took while meeting your eyes.

Mizu bowed her head. “I want to thank you for your hospitality and for saving my life.”

“As I said, I had to.” You shook your head with a smile as you ate.

The woman’s face suddenly went solemn and she put down her bowl. “Yes, but now you have to keep my secret, or else I cannot allow you to keep your life.”

Your eyes darted over to where her katana was, still half a room away, and took a steadying breath. “I can promise you I will never tell another soul but I need something in return,” Mizu looked at you apprehensively, her eyebrow raised. “You must be gone by the time the storm ends. I cannot be caught sheltering you in my home or Boss Hamata will have me killed.”

Her attention drifted from you, her expression unbothered. “You needn't worry about him or his army.”

“Why? You were clearly attacked by one of his men and–” Mizu cut you off with a raise of her hand.

“I killed them all.”

You took a moment to revel in the shock of the admission, spoken as though it was nothing more than a typical day for the female samurai. In your revelation, Mizu slid her bowl over to you, the blanket covering her shifting with the action and your cheeks warmed. You go to look away but stop yourself, instead letting your eyes search over her bandages for any signs of infection or bleeding before Mizu goes to cover herself back up, shooting you an indignant look.

“Oh! No, I–” You backtracked, knowing how it must have seemed. “Your wound, I was just looking to see if I should replace the bandages and…” You gestured to the bloodied cloth, “It looks like I should.”

Mizu looked down at herself and grimaced at the sight. “Fine, but I can do it myself.”

You nodded and retrieved a bowl of water for her to clean herself with as well as a new set of cloth to rewrap herself. You watched her struggle to undo the wrapping for a total of two minutes before you couldn’t help but reach towards her in aid though as you did she jerked away, wincing at the action and your face tightened.

“Please, let me help you.”

The two of you were locked in a stare-down, neither willing to give up ground so you decided to take it, scooting yourself forward and batting away her hands. Mizu looked ready to put up a fight but instead, she relented, allowing you to reach around her torso. Your faces were close as you did so, Mizu’s warm breath wafting sharply across your cheek as you pulled on the dressing to release it.

She began moving in every which way as you passed the bandages around her body to try and help the process go by quickly but your hands must have been chilled because when you finally revealed her skin and ran a hand along the plane of her stomach Mizu shivered and you looked up to see her eyes already trained on you. Mizu kept a hard look on her face as you wiped away congealed blood from her wound though it looked to you to have already begun scabbing, causing a self-satisfied smile to grace your face.

“It’s looking better. I think you should be okay to travel in a few days.” The labored breathing of the injured woman forced another comment from you. “Although, I think it would be beneficial for you to remove your bindings for the time being.”

Mizu gave you another long look and you figured that she must not be used to conversing with people regularly, a trait you both now shared. In retaliation, Mizu attempted to take a deep breath though before she could, her lungs stuttered out dry coughs and her face screwed up in pain at the action.

“Fine.” She ground out, once again attempting to remove the wrap on her own and failing.

You were unamused at the sight and decided to skip the dance the two of you had been playing at since you dragged her into your home and just helped her instead. It was a similar tension as when you removed her bloodied bandage but thicker by about tenfold when your eyes met again.

You couldn’t get over the sight, blue as the sky and sea but clouded by emotion. She looked to be studying you just the same, her eyes languidly making their way over your features before settling on your mouth. You couldn’t help but let your lips part, overcome with the moment and Mizu’s increasingly seductive gaze. Your cheeks burned under her but you weren't alone in your fluster, Mizu’s own face tinged pink as well, shared heat radiating between you.

All you had to do was lean forward and–

You cleared your throat at the thought and pulled back, “I’ll let you finish on your own. I’ll leave you.”

- ⚔ -

Ethereal and pale, haunting tales of love's demise, echo through her cold blue eyes, as sorrow sets its sail.

Hunting always cleared your mind, which, at that moment, was racing with thoughts of feelings you’d never experienced before. It wasn’t the fear of attraction that bothered you, but the fear of who you’d grown such a sensitivity toward. It would be easy if Mizu was just a lone samurai, someone wandering through life, a man, but she was none of those things and you were but a woman.

You’d been stalking your prey for a few miles, a serow that looked large enough for four meals between two people. Clad in your lightest clothes, you blended into the snowy environment and stepped slowly so as to not startle the creature. A moment of pause and a softly spoken prayer was all that was in between the serow’s short life and its quick death. Your emotions peaked as you released your arrow and the animal hit the ground, its breaths stuttering wetly as blood filled its chest. The pure white snow tainted red as you kneeled and slipped your knife from where it rested in its holster before promptly goring open the beast’s neck, killing it instantly.

You sat in the snow, waiting until the serow bled out enough for you to take it back, and began to think. You had very little, living in the woods alone, but it seemed to you so did Mizu. You were unsure if she even felt that way about other women as you had just discovered it was possible yourself. Mizu had incontestable skill, having claimed to have killed the Thousand-Claw Army single-handedly and suffered only a single serious injury. To you, she meant safety, security, and companionship, but what could you offer other than a home you were unsure she even wanted to come back to?

“Give me strength,” You called out to the universe and stood, bearing the weight of your future dinner on your back.

It was a difficult hike home but you were greeted by an up-and-about Mizu when you managed to open the door and throw down the serow.

“I made tea,” She announced, gesturing lamely to the steaming pot, uneasy at your sudden entrance.

You smiled and removed your scarf, brushing snow off of you and onto the floor in the process. “I can see that. Thank you.”

She nodded at your gratitude, her eyes not quite meeting your own. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to skin and carve this, then I can get started on dinner,” You moved to begin your task but Mizu stopped you.

“I can skin it. You rest.”

Your shoulders sagged with a relief you didn’t know you would feel and you smiled at her once again. You took your time undressing down to a single kimono and looked back to see Mizu butchering the pelt of your kill.

You gasped and Mizu stopped, startled as she looked up. “What?”

“Have you ever skinned an animal before?” You accused, taking three short strides over to her.

“Yes!” She defends. “Just nothing ever this large.”

You walk behind her and place your hand over hers. “Here, like this.”

Her hands are warmer than yours, but rougher, hardened by years of training and being on the road. She was slightly taller than you, forcing you to lean your head on the side of her arm in order to see what you were guiding her to do. You feigned intense focus while skinning the animal to combat the feeling that Mizu’s stolen and frequent glances gave you.

“Where is the man you live with?” She asked suddenly, causing you to stop your movements and remove yourself from behind her, too distracted in such close proximity.

Your heart clenched and you sighed. “Dead. My father got sick a month after the first snow.”

“My condolences.”

“I just realized you’re the first person I’ve spoken to since he died.” You laughed mournfully.

A dark look passed over Mizu’s face and she handed you the knife, gesturing for you to finish the skinning with your superior ability. “Let’s finish dinner.”

- ⚔ -

Your third meal together was nothing special, grilled meat and rice being all you had to get through the winter. The days were growing shorter and your energy with it, not to mention the strain healing took on Mizu and you as her unstudied nurse, left the both of you exhausted and ready to go to bed. Though your eyes drooped when you laid down, you couldn’t manage to find sleep, instead tossing and turning as Mizu slept soundlessly across from you.

A deep yawn tore itself from you and finally, you felt yourself relax into your slumber. Little by little your eyes closed and your breath slowed, as you were lulled by the crackle of the fire. This was until Mizu’s voice echoed throughout the room.

“I need you to know, I am on the path of revenge. There’s no place on it for friendship…or love.”

You were hazy with sleep but the admission hurt. “I understand.”

“I’m planning on leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

What else could you say?

The room retired to its previous silence but now you were fully awake and your heart pounded over what Mizu said truly meant to you. The little life you had constructed in your mind vanished into thin air, thoughts racing and consumed with every question you would never be able to ask her.

It was when you accepted you’d never see her again that you spoke. “I feel it's easier to talk in the dark so now I will ask: why do you dress as a man?”

Three seconds go by and Mizu fails to respond, making you assume she was either asleep or ignoring your question. When you’d all but given up hope she responded. “Because of my birth. And because it's difficult to be a woman in this world.”

“It is. After winter, I don’t know what I will do without my father. I have no chaperone to travel with and once spring comes and the roads become busy, I will have no assurance of my safety.” You curled in on yourself a bit tighter than before, your eyes welling up with tears.

“You have your bow and this house. That's more than many.” Her graveled voice sounded almost condescending and you were annoyed.

“More for a man, less for a woman.” You argued, turning to look at her.

Sensing your growing anger, you took a breath and opted not to continue the conversation instead looking angrily at the sword-wielding woman before screwing your eyes shut.

She cleared her throat and you opened your eyes once again, her pale eyes meeting yours before she spoke. “What happened to your mother?”

You sighed, decidedly finished with the conversation but Mizu didn't seem to catch on. “She died in childbirth.”

“You could always marry,” She suggested. “I was married once.”

Your brows set though the admission surprised you. “And now you’re dressed as a man in a pursuit for revenge,” Mizu gave you a look of defeat and you leveled with her. “I would be shackled to my husband and I have no desire for kids. I wish to live freely.”

Mizu’s eyes seemed to shine for a moment before she spoke. “You remind me of a princess I knew.”

- ⚔ -

Mizu had been antsy all day. Sewing up her clothes, checking and rechecking her wounds, stretching and eating her fill, all in preparation to leave you the next morning. You could assume she never stayed anywhere as long as she’d stayed in your home so you could understand why she felt that way though it didn’t help the growing pit in your stomach. You couldn’t wrap your head around it; you’d barely known her for three days and already you were, dare you say, truly sad she was leaving.

When seeing her pack became too much to bear, you used hunting as an excuse to leave, not bothering to go very far, but to a boulder you often frequented when you needed to sit in silence. The view was beautiful, overlooking a shallow valley that was currently coated in a layer of white, a calming sight while you attempted to reacclimate your mind to the reality of your solitude. Mizu was nothing more than a dream that you’d conjured up in order to live your fantasy life of freedom with. You should’ve known better.

When you got back to your house and walked in, Mizu looked you over and frowned. “Nothing today?”

You sighed, feigning defeat. “No, but I have more than enough for now,” Giving her a falsely nonchalant look you shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll need to go out again until after you leave.”

Silenced for a moment, Mizu just nodded and handed you a cup of tea. It seemed to have become a sort of ritual, her making you tea whenever you came back from a hunt. It was welcome and something you could get used to if the universe let you. Instead, you bowed your head in thanks and took a sip, pleasantly surprised to find it was made to your liking.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Mizu graced you with a small smile and your eyebrows shot up but you quickly turned to hide your quiet awe.

You moved over to your food storage and tried to come up with a meal that would be a worthy send-off of your limited time together but came up short. It would be meat and rice again though Mizu never showed any indication of being dissatisfied. Stubbornly, you rifled through your shelves and when your hand met glass and you realized it was a bottle of saké you smiled.

“Unfortunately it’ll be another meal of stew and rice but I’ve been saving this for a special occasion. Now seems as good as any.” You held up the bottle and Mizu looked dubious.

“I–I don’t drink,” She tried to deny you but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

You placed a hand on your hip and cocked it, looking at her unamused. “I think as payment for my food and hospitality you owe me this favor.” She looked conflicted but with an expectant raise of your eyebrows, she gave in.

“I suppose one would be okay.”

Dinner was mediocre but drink after drink, you and Mizu became more comfortable with each other and much to your amazement, began sharing stories.

“So…who was your rival again?” You wondered, almost sure she had already told you.

“He’s not my rival,” She mocked, rolling her eyes. “He’s just a samurai who I defeated in battle and has been chasing me around demanding a rematch so he can regain his honor.” Mizu seemed exacerbated at the prospect and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why don’t you just fight him again?” You deadpanned. “I’m sure he’d leave you alone once he got what he wanted.”

“Because he wants to fight to the death, it would be him or me.” Mizu sobered up at that statement and swiftly downed another cup of saké.

“But…you defeated the Thousand-Claw Army alone,” You slowly put the pieces together and began to nod. “I understand.”

“He could be a good man, he just needs to let himself.”

That reminded you of a time in your childhood when your father was still young and strong, lending you wisdom that turned you into the woman you are today. Flashes of a house on the corner of a street, and a little girl with two missing teeth shot through your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“That reminds me of something my father used to say,” You smiled at the memory and continued. “When I was little and we still lived in Mihonoseki, I lost my two front teeth at the same time and this girl who lived near me kept making fun of me.”

“What does that have to do with your–” Mizu hiccupped, looking confused. “Your father?”

“If you’d let me finish! So…she kept making fun of me and I made a plan to mess with her and when my father found out he told me,” You deepened your voice, attempting to imitate the way your father spoke with utmost sternness. “‘Daughter, you may be the more honorable, you need only allow yourself to be.’”

There was a moment of pause before the two of you burst into laughter. Though Mizu’s was much quieter, you were endeared by the sound. Your grin felt as though it would split your face if it got any wider and Mizu looked at you flustered.

“I like your laugh.” You found yourself giggling and when you tried to scoot closer to Mizu, the room spun.

She caught you as you swayed but nearly toppled over herself in turn. You found yourself grasping onto Mizu and she onto you, alone in your home as a blizzard raged on outside. You stared brazenly into her eyes, at a color you didn’t think you’d ever become accustomed to.

“Mizu, I–” Your voice failed when you attempted to continue, a lump forming in your throat when her gaze traveled to your lips as you spoke.

You’d thought about it once already, stopping yourself before the thought could develop but now, when you were a little more than drunk on saké, you couldn’t help yourself. A single tick of time went by, eyes flashing from Mizu’s mouth to her eyes and back before you were pressing your lips to hers.

She inhaled sharply at the contact but you pressed on, opening your mouth to her and sliding a hand around her neck. Mizu tentatively slid her own around your waist and gave an almost experimental squeeze as she deepened the kiss, letting her tongue trace yours and forcing a moan from your throat.

When she heard the noise it was as if Mizu was spurred on, advancing on you in a way you didn't think a woman in her state was capable of. Your back was pressed into the ground as she hovered above you, a heated look on her now more delicate-looking features before she descended upon you again. Her mouth was soft in a way her grasp was not as she trailed kisses down your neck, a moan escaping her lips when she sucked on a particularly sensitive spot and you pulled at the hair on her nape, loosening her bun in the process. Your hand cupped her jaw as you brought her mouth back to your own and stole another kiss.

Reaching up, you tugged the remainder of her hair down, allowing it to cascade over you like an inky waterfall. Mizu smiled as you tucked a strand behind her ear and kissed her once more. It wasn’t until you both had your fill that your actions began to slow and you saw her lips red with desire and knew your own likely matched, not to mention the state of your neck. You lay together in front of the fire, your head on her unbound chest as she traced unconscious patterns into your shoulder where your kimono had slipped during your escapades.

You reveled in the heat of her and the tingles she left in the wake of her touch, though knew she’d be gone when you woke and decided to ask your next question on a whim of hope. “If you think of me, even once after you leave, come back to me when you’ve found your revenge.”

You felt Mizu’s head angle towards your ear as she whispered two words: “I will.”

In the realm between, past and present intertwined, where a restless soul confined, seeks justice unforeseen.

Part Ⅱ: Spring

Beneath the sapphire moon, shadows dance in shades of blue, where love once bloomed, now askew, a blue blade gleams, a fateful tune.

Spring had been bountiful for you, animals re-emerged from the frost and the warming temperatures made it easy to forage. With the changing seasons came a margin of sadness in the lack of a certain samurai’s return. The roads had picked up some traffic but all had just been harmless travelers, no bandits busting down your door to attack you which you were grateful for but never had you been so disappointed someone didn’t come knocking. With a sigh, you shook your head, having no reason to expect Mizu to come back, especially considering you had no actual details on where she was going or how long she’d be away.

You managed a few martens in the short time you’d been out and decided it was enough for a decent meal. With a soft huff, you slugged your bow over your shoulder and began the hike back home, your stomach rumbling at your lack of midday meal.

The walk was no more than thirty minutes, cherry blossoms swaying in the wind and the soft earth beneath your feet lended to the tranquil mood. Your house was looking a little worse for wear after the snow had melted: the roof needed to be repaired, and a loose step in the porch stairs somehow always managed to trip you when you went out. Skipping that board on the way up, you pushed open your door and were met with a familiar sight.

Striking blue met yours as you saw Mizu standing in the center of the room, a pot of tea and two cups resting on the table to the right of her. Before you could manage to speak, your body carried you to her, dropping everything you held in the process to take her in your arms.

A small oomph sounded from Mizu as you collided with her and her hand came up to rest on the back of your head, you having already buried it in her shoulder. The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, just reveling in the feeling of your togetherness before you pulled back, though only far enough to be able to meet her eyes. Her bangs were longer, covering her forehead and you noticed she was without her sword.

It was a silent conversation only shared between the flitting of your eyes but when Mizu’s settled her lips captured yours. You’d longed for the moment you’d once again be endowed with the plushness of her lips and at the contact tears welled up in your eyes. Your mouths danced together and one of Mizu’s hands went to cradle your face, the other holding you firmly to her as she took control of your mouth. Her touch burned, kiss after kiss marring your skin and ruining you for anyone else.

“How have you been?” She asked, her voice lighter than you remembered.

“I’ve been well,” You chuckled wetly. “And you?”

Her eyes closed momentarily and she stroked your cheek with her thumb. “Still walking the same path I have my entire life.”

This puzzled you, having not expected to see her until she’d completed her mission. “You didn’t get your revenge?” Your shoulders sagged when Mizu shook her head, and you gave her a soft peck on the lips in apology.

“I trust Ringo found you?” She looked genuinely curious and memories of a handless man coming to you with rice, beans, and a travel pass resurfaced.

“You sent him?” You smiled but were still confused. “Who is he?” The man had brought you gifts and cooked the best noodles you ever had in your life before leaving and claiming he would be back in a few month's time.

Mizu nodded, letting your face go but sliding her hand from across your back and sliding it into your own. “My apprentice. He accompanied me on my travels. Before I ventured into Edo, I gave him instructions to find you should I not return.”

“Not return? But–”

Mizu handed you the cup of forgotten tea, effectively cutting you off and you took an annoyed sip. “You’re the only person I had to see before I leave.”

The tea lodged in your throat at the admission, sending you into a coughing fit as you tried to clear the liquid from your lungs. “Leave? Leave where?”

A haunted look passed over her eyes, darkening them. “My path diverged in Edo. I chose the sea and tomorrow…I’m headed to London.”

“London?” All of a sudden you felt the same as you did that night all those months ago.

After some much-needed discussion, Mizu explained what she had set out to do and the vow she made to her mother when she was a child. You understood, how could you not? With every chop of your knife, dinner came together and you learned more about the woman you devoted so many sleepless nights to. Four white men, a quest for revenge, and a chance to gain it across the sea.

Mizu looked away from you when she spoke her next admission. “The shogun is dead. Edo burned.”

Your eyes shot up from your work and a sharp pain sliced through the backs of your fingers as you brought your knife down onto them. A hand reached out and Mizu was already tugging the white scarf from around her neck to wrap around your hand. She looked startled at the sight of your blood but you assumed she was used to it by now. She handled you delicately, enveloping your injury gently but snug enough that you trusted it would not come undone. Your attention was momentarily diverted before you processed what Miza had said, questions darting around your mind.

“The shogun is dead and Edo burned?”

“There was a coup, but I stopped the man in charge.” She seemed pleased by the outcome and you were in awe of the feat.

“And the city?”

Her expression dimmed and Mizu rubbed her eyes. “I started the fire…and it raged.”

A meal finally suitable for a goodbye–because that’s what this was–was ready in another fifteen minutes, most of which was filled with soft looks and stolen kisses, the pain and fear from hearing of Mizu’s narrow escape melting away with each one. You ate in companionable silence as they often came more naturally than conversation to the two of you.

- ⚔ -

Through the veil of time dire, the pale visage lingers on, a tale of love, now gone, in shadows of a haunted pyre.

Once the meal was finished and you’d both taken the time to clean up, Mizu took your hand and led you to your spot in front of the fireplace. She did little more than let you rest against her, savoring your touch as she nuzzled into your neck, dropping small kisses onto your skin. When you tried to touch or reciprocate Mizu tenderly denied the advances, letting all her focus stay rooted on you.

“I’ll be gone before you wake,” Mizu murmured as she caressed you.

You knew as much, having been told not an hour before but the reminder stung. “I know.”

She grabbed your face, turning it so you could do nothing but study her as she did you, your eyes locked on one another. Her expression shifted from a subtle longing to an unabashed look of want and seized your lips with an intensity that she had never allotted herself with you. Mizu licked into your mouth, tasting of the food you made and the tea she prepared, and dwelled on what it would be like if this was the rest of your life.

“Let me do this for you,” She rasped, her hot breath fanning over you. “Let’s make the most of tonight.”

Her fingers ghosted over your body until she reached the ties of your kimono and looked to you for permission. Understanding the silent question you nod, letting her undo the knots and reveal yourself to her. Mizu hovered over you, one arm supporting her weight and the other fondling your chest as she tasted your skin. Your arousal was almost uncontainable, your core throbbing at every touch, mewls and groans barely kept to yourself as the woman continued to shower you in affection.

“Mizu,” You couldn’t help but gasp when she slipped her hand between your legs and began to touch you.

Your composure slipped entirely when her fingers entered you and you clung to Mizu, nails scraping over her still-clothed body. You distantly knew you wanted to see more of her but failed to scrape together coherency as she thrust in and out of you, curling her fingers as she did so. Her thumb was massaging a toe-curling circle of pleasure and it was all too soon before you were reaching a peak. Breathy moans escaped you and Mizu swallowed them with hot kisses, noises of her own making their way to your ears as she took care of you.

Your loud cries echoed around the room as you came, clenching down on Mizu’s fingers though she rode you out until you were practically begging her to remove her hand. She smoothed her hand over your flushed face and whispered soothing words of praise as you returned to yourself.

“Beautiful,” She smiled, kissing each of your cheeks and then your lips. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” You tittered weakly. “I’m doing quite well.”

Mizu busied her hands by tying you back up and retrieving a blanket for the two of you to rest. “Good. I didn’t know if that was too much.” Her nervous tone was odd to you, given how easily she took control.

You gave her a peck to the cheek and took a breath to stare into her eyes that you’d grown to love. “It was perfect”

As you lay there, wrapped in Mizu’s arms and unsure of the future, you echoed to her a question you’d asked before.

“Will you come back to me?”

“I will.”

Yet, in the azure dawn, hope emerges, love reborn, fulfilling desires anew, as life unfolds, bright and true.

511 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 6 months

Text

blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed. Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop. There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table. If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place. The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces. The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure. The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest. The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her. As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her. She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job. She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall. Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention. His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise. Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses. Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor. As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party. She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?”

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter. The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’. But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind. Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face. (y/n). Certainly fitting. Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers. Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter. “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face. He prays it’s not noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way. She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly. It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently. “No offense though, these are gorgeous. I have to say I really outdid myself”

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it. Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid. “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret. Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s. “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon. Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection. He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before. Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him. The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack. “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend. She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see. I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses. Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident. “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance. Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more. Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them. “They’re going to laugh at me”

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head. “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet. She’ll understand. It’s a very kind gesture”

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better. Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake. “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time”

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment. She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers. She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well. He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers. As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,”

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine. The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?”

And of course her first question is that one. He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing. She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday”

Which is an odd choice of lie. He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago. But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought. “Do you know what she likes?”

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop. “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit. “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,”

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them. Oh, so those were orchids. Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement. “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?”

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop. He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more. Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent. Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it. Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before.

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands. It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out. “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first”

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly. (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly. Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?”

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands. Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking. Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement. He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting. “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand. “I think your mother would adore these. I certainly do”

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids. “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?”

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets. More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits. “I don’t really know what else to give her. But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up”

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be. “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift. Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face. “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?”

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses. (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears. She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case.

“What’s your name, anyways?”

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number. He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,”

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine. He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before. He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his. His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here. “But everyone just calls me (y/n)”

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud. “You can just call me Kento, then”

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable. He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?”

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking. “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed. They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways”

“I don’t consider that fair-”

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding. That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him. It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart. “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door. “I’ll let you know how much she loves them”

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window. She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind. The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!”

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly. Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it. He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly. “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks. “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face. He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions. He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs. “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform. He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically. “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?”

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more. “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours. Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises. Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort. But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore. He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers. “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-”

“I thought you were an only child?”

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant. A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling. He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is. Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation. “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else. The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line. She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly. She’s amused. And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face. “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in”

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease. His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations. Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully. (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it. “I did just… want to come and see you”

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly. “You’re my favorite customer, you know”

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises. “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies”

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move. That would be Gojo. He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either. That was Shoko’s move. Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move. Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her. “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner” ___

bonus:

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store”

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her. “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy. Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes. It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert. Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way. The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly. She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper. “Just my favorite ones”

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter. His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them. He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami #kento

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scorpioracha · 3 months

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Dating Yoongi

We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment

Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.

It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.

Full wipeout.

Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.

Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.

“...chana?”

“Huh?”you said in a daze.

“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.

“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.

“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.

“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”

You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.

“Bae juice”

He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”

He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.

“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.

And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?

You fucking c o n s u m e it.

And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.

You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.

“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized

Oh yeah, and your pining.

Couldn’t forget about your pining.

You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.

Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.

“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”

“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.

Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.

Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.

It was months before you had seen him again.

Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.

It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle.

Blame it on the wind.

What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering.

You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning

“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”

The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way.

That mumble…

“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.

“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.

"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.

“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.

“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.

“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even.

“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”

You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.

“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”

Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.

It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.

You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.

Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.

Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.

you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.

Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.

“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.

“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”

You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.

“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.

“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.

“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”

The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.

“No reason,”he said plainly.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So you have been avoiding me?”

His eyes widened.

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.

“I was trying to give you space”

“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.

“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”

“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.

Huh.

“Huh?!”You shrieked.

“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”

“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.

“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”

“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”

Huh.

“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.

“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”

“Hey-”

“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.

“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said.

“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”

“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.

“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.

“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.

“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to be sick.

“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?

“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.

“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”

“You love me?”you whispered.

“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”

“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.

“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.

“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.

“We’re both idiots”

Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.

In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music.

Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air

Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it

Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all

But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make.

There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.

What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either.

Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.

You still hold this over his head to this date.

So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.

Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀

“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”

“No”

Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.

Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.

Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public.

He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.

So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.

And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.

Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨

Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)

When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️

You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.

Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.

You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love

You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible

NSFW

Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S

Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.

But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex

He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.

He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp

Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.

Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.

He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.

Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.

He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️

Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.

He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.

All in all Yoongi is the best boy.

#yoongi headcanons #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #Yoongi smut #bts headcanons #bts hard thoughts #bts hard hours #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #bts min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #yoongi drabble #min yoongi

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

Text

A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.

You were left with nothing.

For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.

Lord Douma had other things in store for you.

He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.

Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.

You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.

How was he never tired?

Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.

You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.

Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.

No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.

You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventures downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.

"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"

You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.

Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.

It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.

With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.

"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"

Crap.

Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.

"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"

Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.

As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2 here!

#he's so bbg (he would eat me without a second thought)#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #yandere demon slayer imagines #yandere demon slayer x reader #demon slayer douma #yandere douma x reader #douma #yandere douma #douma x reader #demon slayer x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 21 days

Text

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.

"So..."

"Just go," she snips.

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.

"Dang it," you whisper.

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,

that needs to be fixed too.

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.

"And your name? Neighbour?"

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out.

“Is it just you over here?” He asks.

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy.

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?”

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway.

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list.

“Mom,” you say.

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?”

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly.

“Anyway...” he says.

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that.

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there.

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent.

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.”

You huff and push the mower over.

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house.

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes.

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says.

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away.

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner.

“You figure it out?” She asks.

“No,” you flop onto the couch.

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.”

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.”

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers.

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is.

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind.

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil.

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’.

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you.

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair.

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat.

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.”

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin.

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone.

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.”

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.”

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.”

His smile is just as charming as his introduction.

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?”

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.”

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america #au #silverfox au

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Text

Mafia!Oscar Piastri Headcannons

A/N: heheheheh

Warnings: Angst, blood, gun wound, threats on life, bodyguard trope bitches, etc.

Having a bodyguard was not ideal

certainly when it's one who is young and very cute

he was just a shadow and kept his distance

your father was a very man who had many enemy's

that would do anything to you just to make a point to your dad

Oscar was his name, yet he rarely answered you when

you talked to him leading you to grumble

It's not that he was a stranger

you've seen him around your mother as he used to be

one of her guards, yet when someone sent a note

saying you were going to die

your father removed the best guard he had put them on you

Oscar was the head of the security and was no fool

to the world of Mafia as he too was your father's right

hand man

you knew that anything you did , said or much less looked

was being reporting back to your father

it was rather annoying when you couldn't even

breathe without oscar being there

Being quiet was not your thing you wanted to talk to

the man but he just kept his eyes forward and breathe

so still you sometimes thought he wasn't even breathing

the first time he spoke to you it took you by shock hearing

his accent, having always thought he might be British

but instead he was Australian and that made you

flushed

Oscar saw you trying to reach for a book in store

coming up behind you he grabs the book pressing you

between the shelf and his body

hands you the book saying here you go, no emotion

on his face, well you could say he was bored out of his mind

taking it you just nod and bolt off, your shadow right there

he slowly started to talk to you more and more

one night you couldn't sleep, poking your head out of your

door you see Oscar right across it, eyes alert seeing the movement

asks if something is wrong, grabbing his gun immediately

shaking your head no you admit that you can't sleep

Kinda glares at you, asking how that is his problem

cringing at his words, he was right

he's just your bodyguard not anything else

Sighing loudly, he moves from his spot and fits his body

through the door while you back up

walks to your bed and shrugs up his suit jacket and kicks off

his shoes and sits on your bed, back against the head board

and ankles crossed he closes is eyes

you ask what he's doing, but he doesn't answer

stomping over you crawl into your bed lying on your side, facing

him as Oscar just keep his eyes closed you hate the silence

you start talking first

about your life growing up

hating the violence, the secrecy and never having privacy

but you explain just how much you hate the bodyguards

Oscar opens one eye looking down at you

he asks if you hate him, but you look down at your hand

saying that you don't hate him, just that he doesn't

treat you like you're a person

but some object that could break if you even look at it

humming he closes the eye again

silent again you grow anxious when you feel a hand grab yours

you jerk at the movement, but calm seeing that it's Oscar's hand

his voice is low, telling you about his life in Australia

how he misses home, his family, but a part of him is glad

that he is here, that only one thing has kept him here

you ask him what it is, but his fingers squeeze yours

telling you that it's a secret

that night is filled with telling each other everything

how you loved art and wanted to travel the world and paint it

Oscar saying he came here when he was 12 and always heard

about you and how he became the best

9 months of Oscar being your bodyguard your father

decides to throw a ball, something Oscar strongly disagrees

with as the threat on your life is strong, but he waves it off

saying that Oscar should know his place and be quiet

Oscar storms to your room, in a silent fury

refuses to talk to anyone, even you who was able to get

the boy to laugh and smile

Oscar is glued to your side the entire night refusing to

let you grab your own drink or accept a dance from anyone

your father seeing this, grows red as he tells Oscar

to just dance with you

you blush but are excited as your feelings of friendship

have developed into something far more

not thinking twice, Oscar drags you to the middle of the floor

it's a soft song as he pulls you flushed against him scanning

the room, glaring at anyone who stares at you for too long

hand reaching up you turn his face down to look at you

telling him to relax and enjoy the moment

Oscar stops, eyes softening as he sees that smile

he loves so much

you blush resting your head on his chest as you two dance

He still blames himself for that night for losing focus

it happened so fast, the screams and gunfire

Oscar moves fast you're unable to even figure out

what is happening, something sharp and burning

hits you, but Oscar keeps you running as he heads for a secret

room that they use incase of an attack

getting there you both breath fast as men in Oscar's ear

piece communicate, dealing with the problem

the slight burn from earlier starts to hurt more as you groan

touching your side you pull away seeing crimson red on

your hand, whispering out an Oscar he turns from the door

ice filling his veins seeing the dark spot on your side grow

crying out, you didn't see Oscar move but his hand is on you

putting to much pressure that it was hurting

he shushes you as he directs you to lay down

Oscar mumbles something into his wrist

chaos in his ear he rips out his earpiece as he begs you

to keep your eyes open, that he wants to see those gorgeous

eyes, that you're not allowed to close them or he'll follow after you

tells you everything

that you're the reason he stayed in the Mafia

how he's loved you since you first met at the age of 12

Oscar always sneaking off to catch a glimpse of you painting

that he wants to go back to Australia and bring you with

to see his favorite places in your paintings

he'll take you around the world if you just keep your eyes open

help finally arrives, the other guards forced to remove

Oscar off you as he screams at you to keep your eyes open

keeps fighting them as he needs to be with you, that

he loves you and he should've said it earlier

after that night, your father was furious with Oscar

banning him and refuses him the knowledge if you are alive or not

Oscar is able to go home, but without you and it kills him

it was 4 months of not knowing if you lived and each time

he'd look at something beautiful he'd think of you and what

your painting would look like

comes home from the beach, trudging up the sand to see a

someone in a sundress on his patio staring out to the sea

drops everything as he rushes up the dunes and stairs

stops when he sees you, you alive and breathing

your eyes open

turning, you smile holding a paint brush and the sunset

on your canvas

"Show me the world?"

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after-witch · 4 days

Text

Damn Your Eyes Chapter 2 [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Cream and Sugar [Damn Your Eyes Chapter 2] [Yandere Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: A fateful meeting at a bookstore between you and Ren Hana, years upon years after your escape from Strade, turns into a coffee shop date. You're not supposed to accept drinks from strangers, but Ren's not a stranger--so it's fine, right?

Word count: 5,322

notes: yandere, descriptions of violence/death/wounds, drugging

AO3 LINK

How did one get over something like Strade? Get over that house and that basement? How do you move on with your life when you’ve seen someone’s guts spill out of their body while they’re still alive, and you’ve been instructed to pick them up and play with them for the delight of sick fucks watching it all on a paid stream?

The pretty answer, the one everyone recites when asked, because that’s what you do: with therapy and time and forgiveness for yourself. You take it one day at a time. You treat yourself.

The real answer: You didn’t. You don’t. You can’t.

Not fully. Because “getting over” something like that means it will eventually no longer affect you, no longer being a part of you.

And sure. You will, eventually, go about something that feels like an ordinary life.

You will walk into a grocery store with a tidy little list, you will roll your eyes at the rising cost of laundry detergent, you will smile at a cashier who says they like your outfit. You will date and drink coffee and sway to your favorite song while making dinner.

But inside, inside of you , you are still there--still hovering at the last step of the basement stairs, listening to someone’s guttural shrieks as their skin is blow-torch melted down. Still clinging to Ren in the middle of the night, flinching when his hands wander over a recent gouge, a hastily stitched cut--an accident, he whispers, and you’re never sure if you believe him.

And that is what happened to you.

It took years, of course, to even get close to that semblance of normalcy. A few years were spent in feverish hiding, running from place to place with no paper trails that might lead some gorehound that subscribed to Strade’s torture porn sniffing at your door, hungry for more.

But you settled down, in time. Slowly. Bit by bit, piece by piece, inch by inch.

That took years, too--the settling.

It started with staying in an apartment for more than three months at a time. It started with going to the grocery store wearing only sunglasses, instead of sunglasses, a wig, and the most nondescript clothing you could fish out of a bargain bin. It started with applying for real jobs, not just seedy work that paid cash, quick.

It ended here, in this quaint little home that you shared with your husband for the past five years, though you’d lived together for longer. It ended here, with a modest marketing career that you’d built up after going back to college. It ended here, with a life you built for yourself; frail and a bit unorthodox, but a life nonetheless.

You wouldn’t have been able to survive, if you hadn’t adapted. There is only so much terror the human man can manage before breaking entirely, and so--adaptation.

It was a gift that your husband didn’t mind your… differences. The heavy insistence on home security, the desire for privacy, the slow way you gave trust to strangers--if you gave it at all.

Some things did bother him. He grumbled about your lack of social media presence, and you’d once had an awful fight when his sister put a photo of you on Facebook that you’d demanded, in furious tears, be taken down.

But, deep down, it wasn’t like you could blame your husband for bucking against your near tantrum-like reaction. For the way he sometimes sighed as you locked the front door with triple locks, and an electric sensor. For the way his jaw sometimes set, when you did something that wasn’t normal to anyone who hadn’t been the extended torture victim of a serial killer that doubled as a snuff porn producer.

Because you knew--deeper down--that you were still haunted by the ghosts in that basement. Strade and the torture victims and Ren and yourself, shaking like a leaf, bleeding onto concrete. You knew, even if the man you slept beside in a bed every night had no inkling of it, that you could never step back across that threshold and be the way you were before.

But.

And there’s always a but, isn’t there?

But… that was okay. It was okay that you could never go back; it was okay that you were someone new; it was okay that you weren’t okay, and you’d never be okay in the fullest sense of the word.

Your life was a life you created out of shaking fingers, something clawed out with dirty fingernails. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

What more could you ask for, after Strade?

What more could you ask for, after anything ?

Books are a vice. More than smoking, more than sex. You could give up sex, you could swear you’ll never buy another pack of smokes, but you could never give up books.

Okay, okay. You’re being over dramatic and theatrical. But how can you think of books as anything other than a sinful pleasure when you’re surrounded by these shelves and stacks, imagining that one day you can afford an extension on your home and dedicate an entire room (or two--why not, in a daydream?) solely to books?

You’re not even supposed to be here today. It was your day off, and your calendar was packed to the brim with mundane errands. Today’s schedule certainly didn’t leave room for indulgently browsing at a bookstore, but sometimes you just have to live a little, don’t you?

Although if you come home with yet another bag of books, your husband is bound to shove his face into the nearest couch cushion and scream. But c’mon. It wasn’t your fault that you’d long since run out of shelf space and were prone to stuffing the books into boxes that cluttered the closests.

Your fingers wander over the spines of the books crammed onto the shelves, catching the uneven mismatched spaces between with every dip. The spines are often worn and weathered, some of them even peeling a little.

This was why you preferred secondhand bookstores. No neat lines of fresh new books set up to catch the eye and make a sale here. No, instead there were countless books shoved together with no care for size or color or sometimes (depending on who was stocking that day) even genre.

For instance, today you find a battered paperback copy of Carrie by Stephen King right next to a suspiciously pristine How to Keep Your House from Drowning that probably still has an uncracked spine. That poor soul, with a messy house. Maybe they should have read the book.

You’re about to keep moving when, on second thought: Your partner might get a kick out of finding that book on his nightstand. Or he’ll chuck it at your head (lovingly) for bringing it into the house. It’s a 50/50 gamble that you’re willing to take.

And so you go to pull it out, a private little grin on your face, just as another hand reaches across for Carrie.

Fingers and elbows bump together and you feel that slight flush of awkward embarrassment rush to your cheeks as you sputter out, “Sorry!” Your voice even goes up an octave, an annoying habit that you’ve been trying to train out of yourself.

The stranger pulls away and mutters their own low apology. They sound just as awkward as you, which makes you feel a little better, at least, so you turn to look at them and offer an embarrassed smile and you think, briefly, maybe you’ll grab Carrie for them or cheekily ask if they were going for the cleaning book--

But when you turn to look at them, all thoughts and cheek are snuffed out.

Not because the man in front of you is wearing a nicely tailored business suit and matching fedora hat; a dark gray complimented by a muted burgundy tie. Like he’s off to a meeting or comes from a big city where such outfits are often found in shops and cafes during lunch hours.

Not because the man in front of you is attractive, with red hair with a bit of ever so slightly silver sticking out from underneath his hat; his cologne, soft but spicy, tickles your nose.

But because the man in front of you is Ren.

Older, yes. His hair and face peppered with signs of time, just like yours. There are scars on his face that you remember--some etched onto his flesh right in front of you, and some from that gray area of before, when Strade had yet to take you--and some you don’t.

Your body is lead, your throat is closed up. Speech and movement are now foreign, unknowable things, because Ren is standing right in front of you.

It takes you a moment to shake it off; no, two moments. No, three.

And then you can finally speak, although the word comes out hoarse and whispered, like every ounce of spit in your mouth vanished the instant you saw him. Perhaps it did.

“ Ren ?”

He blinks. His eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing. For a terrible moment, you find yourself thrown back down the basement steps, when knowing the difference between Strade’s brows furrowing in annoyance or amusement could mean the difference between the degree of your upcoming burns.

And then his expression opens, widens, just enough for you to recognize that he knows who you are now and you’re here, in a bookshop, decades on; not there, not in the basement, where you left Strade’s corpse to rot.

Ren--for he is Ren, and you know it--lifts his hat, his lips turning up in a smile that makes your heart twist painfully, and shows just the bottom edges of his ears in greeting.

He says your name and your ears ring, high and tinny. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a cashier standing at the till rearranging trinkets while clearly spying on whatever bit of vaguely interesting gossip this might turn into during their lunch break.

You had, in truth, imagined this moment before. Countless times. Usually at night, though you weren’t terribly picky; a long trip on a bus, head pressed against the window glass, was also a great time for such thoughts.

You’d imagined finding Ren some day, in many different ways.

In some fantasies, you look him up in the phonebook (a stupid idea fit only for a fantasy, because Ren would never put himself out there like that, just as you hadn’t) and give him a call and meet up at a park and you apologize until your lungs stop working. In another, you run into him somewhere else, a store or park; a coincidence just like this one. In still others, he finds you, offering to meet in a public space because he knows you’d be scared and he wants you to be comfortable and Ren would definitely think of things like that, considering your shared experiences.

In your daydreams, you had a speech prepared. It was always moving, of course. It culminated in a soft, unbearably sweet hug where the two of you squeezed out the pain from the preceding decades and parted in mutual understanding. Maybe with each other’s phone numbers on slips of paper.

But those were daydreams. This is real life.

In real life, your throat feels closed up; your eyes burn with hot tears that want to spill out, and everything from your chest to your cheeks feels hot and swollen. In real life, it is not the daydreams but your nightmares that worm their way into your brain: those nightmares you have (yes, have, still--even this far down the line) where he hates you, where he tells you that you left him there like he’s nothing, where he throws back all your whispered conversations in the dark back in your face.

In real life, you can only stammer out, expecting the nightmarish worst: “Ren. I’m s…sorry. I’m sorry . I shouldn’t--I shouldn’t have --”

Ren raises his hand; his brows furrow again. He says your name, once, twice. Softer. Gentler.

“It’s okay,” he says, low. You don’t know if he means that it’s okay that you left him (it isn’t, is it?) or that it’s going to be okay or that he’s okay or--

Ren must sense your upcoming lack of steady breathing, because he places one steady hand on your shoulder. The way he used to do, when you started thinking about the fact that you were going to die in that house, and it would be an awful death, and the thought of it made you want to tear into your own skin.

It brings you back down to the ground, which only makes you want to cry for a different reason.

Ren’s face has a touch of sticky pity on it when he smiles at you.

“Why don’t we go somewhere we can sit down and talk?”

You are sitting in a coffee shop across the way from a fox man who used to be tortured with you in the basement of a serial killer's home that doubled as a snuff film studio. There are people around you, but they might as well be invisible, be nothing at all.

Because every nerve in your body is focused squarely on Ren, sitting in front of you with a muted awkward expression as the pair of you wait silently for the barista to call up your order.

Neither of you have spoken since you sat down.

Sweat is beginning to stick to your neck, but you don’t want to move without warning--don’t want to startle Ren. If you do, maybe he’ll run off, and… no. He wouldn’t run off now. You can tell. He’s not like he used to be, and neither are you.

There are decades between you, and yet--and yet that thread is still there, isn’t it? You could never fully cut it. Maybe it pulled, instead. Pulled and pulled and eventually lost all of its slack on this unassuming afternoon, when the two of you met again in a bookstore. Reaching for books with cracked and weathered spines, lines creasing over the paper like scars on the skin.

Your scars. His scars.

How many times have you traced over the marks on your skin? How many times has he? Maybe he didn’t do it anymore. Maybe he was in a much better space than you, and that’s why he looks so awkward and you feel like your heart is about to pound right out of its chest. Because he’s moved on and you, stupid thing, just woke up in the basement in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

His shoulders straighten; you imagine, under his hat, that his ears have perked. For a moment,, a familiar sensation washes through you. Danger. He’s coming down the stairs and it’s going to hurt.

But Strade is dead. And you are alive, and Ren is alive, and his attention only raised because the barista set both of your coffees down on the counter. Nothing more than that.

Slowly, the world seems like it regains its normal gravity. The sweat clinging to your neck feels silly and not ominous. You can breathe, and the world of the coffee shop seems to settle around you like it would have on any other day.

“I’ll get them,” Ren says, quietly, eyeing you with wariness–like he’s the one worried about you bolting. Fuck. He’s probably right to think that; a moment ago, you might have been the one to run.

Ren pauses after he stands up, and there’s something soft and sad in his eyes when he looks at you. Part of you thinks he’s about to say that he’s going to leave, that this was a mistake. But instead, his lips curl and the softest of smiles, and he asks:

“You still like cream and sugar?”

Oh.

“Yes,” you say, automatically. But you don’t. Not anymore. Tastebuds change and you drink it black with no cream, when you do bother to drink it. It’s not worth correcting, and you don’t. You just watch as he grabs both cups and heads over to the counter on the far side of the coffee shop, where there’s oodles of sugars (and sugar substitutes); creamers; and little tins of milk to add to your drink.

Then your phone vibrates, and the “fuck!” that comes out of your mouth is involuntary. It was about the time that you should have been heading home, bookstore stop notwithstanding. What were you going to say to him? That you’d run into someone from your past that used to get tortured with you? That you remember what Ren looks like when his flesh is sliced into and pulled apart?

You heading home? Took ground beef out for dinner. Tacos?

Your thumb hovers over the phone screen. You’re going to lie. You already know that. Even if you were ready to tell him about your past, it would not be like this. Even you, not particularly attuned to mobile etiquette, knew it was better to confess something like this in person. Although the temptation to confess it all and add silly emojis to punctuate the gritty details was very strong.

Ran into an old friend , you type, finally. They want to hang out a bit. Tacos are fine, don’t wait up! Xoxoxo.

It feels so normal. And that’s okay, isn’t it? That you’re being normal right now. It’s a sign that you’ve come so far, if anything. And you’ll take any of those signs that you can manage to get, so when the text comes in–

Can’t wait to hear about it!

I don’t guarantee there will be tacos left.

Kidding.

… Maybe.

–you let that normalcy wash over you, and it helps you settle as Ren returns, coffee mugs in hand.

His expression is lighter, too. He probably notices the weight off your shoulders, the way you’re trying to look interested and perhaps even excited to see him, rather than looking like you’re about to throw up on a half-empty stomach.

He slides your mug across the table and you can tell at a glance that it’s going to be sweet. A hesitant sip, your tongue curling back from the warmth and inevitable sugar, confirms it. Milky and creamy, just like you used to take it.

“Do you live around here?” Ren asks, taking a sip from his own mug.

Such an average question. It’s almost enough to make you snort. Really, you should be asking him when he got out of that basement and whether or not he ever thought about cutting you open and if he still had dreams, like you did.

Instead, he’s asking something you might ask an old high school friend that you haven’t seen in twenty years.

Fuck. What a world you live in.

Maybe he senses your thoughts. Maybe the two of you really are in tune from what you went through together. Because he cracks a smile, the edge of a sharp tooth showing. And then the smile spreads and turns into a little chuckle. It’s not the giggling snort he would sometimes fall into at the house. It’s something older and more reserved, but that shouldn’t surprise you. You’re the same way.

You take another sip of the coffee. It really is too sweet. That’s how you took it at the house, though. It was better to drown your sorrows in creamer and packets of sugar–pilfered from diners that Strade went to, sometimes to scope for victims–than mope about them all the time.

“I really am curious,” he says, voice light. “If you’re okay with telling me.” Something different in his tone. Offense, maybe? God, it’s strange, being on the lookout for what someone’s tone really means again.

But it’s just Ren. You shouldn’t be so worried about it.

“It’s fine,” you say, just as light. “Yeah, maybe about half an hour away? I have a little house…”

Ren’s eyebrows raise. Not in surprise, exactly. But in interest. It relieves you, just a little, that he didn’t let out some sarcastic remark about having your own place away from him.

“Do you have a garden?” He asks. “You always did talk about getting one.”

A twinge in your heart. Bittersweet and old. Sometimes at night, when the two of you were allowed to curl up together, you would talk about a fantasy world. A world where you never came here; where you’d be and what you’d do. Sometimes, you’d be in a pretty little cottage with a pretty little garden in a pretty little town.

Well. Your garden is pretty, even if your house isn’t an adorable cottage and you live at the edge of sprawling suburbs where you have to drive 20 minutes to get to anything useful. Close enough?

You tell him about it. The house and the garden. You even tell him about your partner, and maybe his smile does quirk down a little, then. But you could be imagining it.

“Do you have kids?” Ren asks, next. If he were anyone else, it would be a mundane question--the kind you ask every couple who's been together a while. In Ren, it feels different. Serious. Sincere. He tilts his head a little, taking another sip of his coffee, which prompts you to do the same.

Kids. Hah. It wasn’t like the thought had never crossed your mind. But it didn’t happen. For a lot of reasons, it didn’t happen. Mind and body and the basement worked against you, and maybe there was a part of you that was afraid to bring anything into the world, because you knew it could be taken away. Taken to someone’s basement and hurt and hurt and hurt –

Ren says your name.

Ren’s hand is on yours.

You glance down at his hand–see a familiar scar, see that your hand underneath his is curled up and tense–and then look up at his face.

Oh, the passing of time.

“Me neither,” he says, softly. Like he knows why you didn’t and couldn’t, and maybe he was the same way.

It hurts too much to think about. So you clear your throat and slowly pull your hand away, letting it rest on the now cooling mug of coffee. You take another swig, despite it not being to your taste anymore. Ren really did put in a lot of creamer.

“What about you?”

His head tilts, almost slow, almost curious.

“Me?”

He blinks.

You blink back.

“Do you live around here?”

A smile–an Ahhh sort of smile.

“No,” he says, simply. He shakes his head. “I travel a lot.” He nods his head. “For business.”

“Oh,” you say. “What sort of business?”

A flicker in his gaze. Something sharp and familiar. It’s gone too soon to matter.

“This and that,” is all he says.

And there’s a strange sort of realization in your head. A fuzziness that seems to spread right to your scalp. This is all too casual, too normal. It’s not at all what it was supposed to be, when you met. Asking about homes and gardens and kids and what you do for work; fuck, you two had been tortured together. Had watched people die. Had helped other people die.

This should have been about more than banal pleasantries. This should have been about reconnecting. About that thread between the two of you that couldn’t be cut, even now.

Maybe it’s that fuzziness in your scalp and maybe it’s the lurching of your heart, but you reach out your hand again towards Ren; your hand and your heart reaching and aching –

“Why did you run that day?” Soft and to the point. All the years have led to this question.

The question drops your hand straight to the table. The thud feels harder than it sounds. What ease your heart had mellowed to earlier melts away entirely, and you can feel adrenaline beginning to pump, your heart pounding and racing. Your ears hurt.

Why did you run? It’s the question you wanted him to ask, isn’t it? The question that would lead to your big sappy explanation and apology and the sentimental hug before you two parted ways, perhaps with phone numbers in your pockets?

But now that Ren is real again; now that he’s here, lines around his eyes and a touch of silver in his hair, you don’t know how to answer.

You ran because you were scared. Scared of people from Strade’s fucked up streams finding you in that house. Scared of Strade’s corpse rotting in the basement. Scared, too, of Ren. Of being chained to him, or by him, and you could never be sure which was more likely.

You ran because you weren’t strong enough to face whatever was left behind for you in that fucking house.

Thickness lodges in your throat but you swallow against it. This is not a daydream. This is real life. And you have to own up to what you did now.

“Ren, I–”

The words don’t come, because the world suddenly spins. The fuzziness prickling on your scalp, your ears ringing, your heart going too fast–this has all been too much for you, you should have known that. There are brief thoughts–heart attack, stroke, fuck, fuck, FUCK–and then Ren’s hand is gripping your upper arm so you don’t fall out of the chair.

“Are you okay?” Your vision is clear enough to see the concern in his face. His brows furrow together and he looks around, telling someone– ”Yes, I'm going to get her home” --and you’re about to tell him not to take you to the hospital because your insurance has a high deductible for the emergency room when another dizzy spell hits you, and you’d rather be in debt than dead.

“Should I call an ambulance?” He asks, voice low, calming. Your mind latches onto it. You’re not alone, it’s going to be okay. Someone is here to take care of you, and if you have to go to the emergency room, well, it couldn't have happened at a better time.

Ambulances cost too much money, though, and Ren

“Could you drive me?” Even as you talk, you know something’s wrong. The words come out too slow, a little slurry. Almost like you’re drunk.

Ren starts to shake his head and your dizzy self makes a pitiful sound.

You swear you can see Ren’s ears twitching underneath his hat. You don’t have the presence of mind to think about why–where and when he’s heard that pitiful whimper before–so you just cling to him as he gently pulls you out of your chair.

He grabs your purse and carefully leads you out of the shop. Someone holds the door open, and he tells them that you’re going to the emergency room, thank you for the concern. Your head swims and you might mumble thank you to them, too, but you’re not entirely sure. Are you dying? Is it a stroke? Will the last thing you texted the love of your life be about dinner? It’s funny in that awful, delirious sort of way.

“Ren?” You ask, helpless. You’re holding onto him as tightly as you can, but your fingers feel fuzzy. Your whole body feels fuzzy, actually. Heavy and strange. Drunk and leaden.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you into my car, all right?”

You don’t have the presence of mind to wonder why his car is already out on the curb, running, with a driver in the front seat. You aren’t coherent enough to think about things like that; but then, even before you drank the coffee cup laced with a sedative, you didn’t notice the black car following the pair of you down the road to the coffee shop.

You didn’t notice it follow you to the bookstore, either, nor did you give it a second glance when it pulled out of the lot after you stopped in at the grocery store to pick up a few miscellaneous items.

You really had lost your touch after all these years.

Ren grips you carefully while he opens the back door to the car. It’s roomy, expensive. Clean black leather seats that probably don’t show stains. Up front, a driver sits, wearing a hat and sunglasses and a uniform.

There’s a brief thought–Jesus, what does Ren do for a living to afford this?--before Ren is helping you crawl into the backseat.

The movement only makes you dizzier, and you’re telling the person in the front seat, whoever they are, that you need to get to the nearest hospital please.

They don’t even turn to look at you. It’s strange. But then Ren is there in the backseat with you, and you’re mumbling the same thing to him. Rattling off your symptoms–dizzy, fuzzy, confused, tingling hands. You try to remember the test for a stroke but can’t.

Ren smiles at you.

Why is he smiling? That thought comes through loud and clear, but it doesn’t stick for very long.

“Ren,” you say, slurring. “The hospital, the nearest one is… I think it’s… you have to…”

And those words, difficult as they are to get out, slowly drop away. Because while your mind is not capable of many things right now, it is capable of registering something unusual.

Ren.

He doesn’t look worried anymore. No more concern furrowing his brow, no more softness.

Instead, he looks pleased. There’s a smug smile on his face, and you’ve seen it before, but it’s older now. Wiser. Less impulsive and more assured.

A cat–a fox–that caught the canary. And you, what little remains of your logical mind tells you, are one dumb bird.

And he knows that you know. Because he jerks his chin at the driver in the front, who must press some kind of button; the doors lock. Loud. Hard. Your numb hands fumble for the door handle but no matter how much you try to shove the door open, it doesn’t budge.

You're locked in.

“Back to the hotel for now,” Ren says. Not to you. To the driver. Who–to your horror–begins to pull away from the curb.

“Oh, no–” You try to scream. It’s not quite loud enough. Not quite sharp enough. but maybe someone can see you, even through the tinted windows. Or they’ll hear you and tell someone, who will maybe tell someone else, who might call the cops. If you’re lucky.

Ren’s hand cups your mouth firmly.

“Don’t waste your energy, you’ll need it soon.” The hand moves from your lips to your cheek, resting there. The look in Ren’s eyes is blurry–whatever he drugged you with is making it hard to focus–but you recognize bits of it, because you felt the same damn thing.

The awful mixture of nostalgia, regret and ache.

Maybe if you explain everything. Tell him why you ran. Apologize like hell. You won’t be hugging after this, but you won't be drugged up (what did he give you?) in the back of his car, either.

“Ren– the hous e–I ran–I–let me explain, it–”

Ren’s hand trails back to your mouth. The sharp edges of his nails graze against your nose.

“Hush. We’ll talk about all that later.”

Later?

Oh, fuck –

There’s an awful, stabbing pain in your thigh–you look down and see Ren pulling away a syringe with a bright silver needle.

Ren–you try to say his name, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out. Your lips gape and close and words no longer form.

Your head is swimming now, all highs and lows, dipping and rising over waves that never seem to end. It’s like you're falling asleep in the worst way, hard and rocky.

Like you’re falling backwards down the basement stairs.

Ren’s voice is the last thing you hear before you black out.

“Sweet dreams.”

#the price of flesh #boyfriend to death #ren hana #ren hana x reader #tpof x reader #afterwitch writes #thank you voice to text you saved my marriage. i mean my fic. same thing.#i feel like I'm aiming for... 4 chapters? Maybe 5. Definitely 4 though.

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probably-writing-x · 9 months

Text

The Stars That Shine

Summary: could you do something w conrad based off of mary’s song oh my my my by taylor swift 🥺

Author’s Note: Im so sorry I struggled so much writing this but I hope you love it and it’s what you were hoping for <3

It was like there was just something between you and Conrad that everyone else could see even when you couldn’t. You’d grown up in the house next to his in Cousins and so, every summer without fail, you spent every waking moment with him. It was like summer started so nothing else mattered. He was two years older than you and for the majority of your life he’d made that abundantly clear - he treated you like a little girl in comparison to him. He saw you in the same way he saw Jere, younger than him and so someone he had to be responsible for.

When you were 8, he threw you into the pool and then fought you when you tried to get back at him for it. You’d slipped on the concrete and cut your knee, and Susannah had told him he was too big to be fighting you. He’d patched you up with a plaster over the cut and bought you an ice cream from the van when it came past.

When you were 10, he punched a boy that jumped the queue in front of you over at the boardwalk. You’d been queuing to use the karts, and a boy had treated you like you were invisible. Conrad grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him, turning the guy around and clocking him in the jaw. He bruised his knuckles and you bought him fries from the stall to make up for it. You remembered it every time you ended up back at that boardwalk.

When you were 12, he got dared to kiss you one night when the group of you were all camping out at the beach. He refused at first and both of you forgot about it. But, later that night, he’d stopped you on the sand and told you that he never backed down from a dare. You ran away before he had the chance. Neither of you mentioned it after that day.

When you were 14, you realised for the first time that you liked him. He was getting ready for a date and you watched him fix his hair in the mirror, the pain settling on your chest that it wasn’t you he’d be with. He’d told you to wish him luck and you couldn’t find a word to respond with. A few hours later, Conrad had returned and told you dating wasn’t for him, he’d shook hands with you that he’d never go on a first date again. You’d laughed and taken the bet, hoping to God for just a moment that the next one would be with you.

When you turned 16, it was like Conrad saw you completely differently. You turned up in Cousins that summer and he saw you as a whole new person. He’d looked at you on the driveway like he was looking at a stranger, until his hand stretched out and he ruffled your hair on your head. You blushed under his touch and prayed he didn’t notice.

But there was just something so different about that summer. You felt Conrad’s eyes on you whenever he had the chance, the way he listened in to what you said just a little more intensely, the way he defended you when the boys started being dicks. The little things that just didn’t feel the same as they normally did.

It was that same summer that Conrad first took you out in his truck. His father had bought it for him for Christmas and got Jere one too - now that both of them could drive. Conrad had always complained that he’d have to wait for Jeremiah but it didn’t seem to matter now that he had his car. It started with just little trips to the store, spending a little longer with each other browsing through the aisles before he took the long way home. And then one night, when you couldn’t sleep, it felt like everything changed.

———

You made your way slowly downstairs, breezing past your parents’ room where they both slept soundly. With no real reason why, you just couldn’t sleep tonight. And there was only so long you could lay in bed waiting for sleep to take you.

You slip on a hoodie over your bralette and shorts and grab a pair of flip flops, heading out of the back door and into the yard. It was so much more peaceful at night. You’d sleep out here if you could.

It was rare you spent much time at home in this place, however. All of your best memories were made in the house next door - Susannah was the hostess and your parents always accepted that. You walk down the length of the garden alongside the hedged fence joins the two yards, your eyes flicking into their side.

That’s when you see him. Illuminated by the lights in the water, seemingly giving him an eerie glow, his legs drifting back and forth under the surface from where he sat at the edge of the pool.

“Con?” You hiss into the silent air and he instantly bolts his head up to look at where the noise has come from.

He smiles when he sees you, standing up from the poolside and wiping his hands on his shorts, “Are you stalking me (Y/l/n)?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Fisher,” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He smirks and makes his way over to you until you’re both stood in front of each other, separated by the short hedge between you.

“Why are you awake?”

Conrad shrugs, “I never sleep early.”

You nod, “I can’t sleep.”

You feel the way his eyes watch you, the way they seem to melt into your skin. The way you seem to heat up just a little under his gaze.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Now? Con it’s like 1am,” You frown, glancing back up to him.

He shrugs, “Do you have anything better to do?”

And so, he disappears back into his house and you take the alleyway at the side of yours, waiting for him out the front against the passenger door of his car.

Only moments later, he steps outside, swinging his keys around one finger as he makes his way over to you. You both clamber in and he drives off without another word.

You look out of the passenger window at the passing cars and don’t notice the way he watches you. The way his eyes are on you as if they can’t be torn away. Conrad wasn’t exactly sure when things had changed - or if they’d ever changed at all. He just knew that he saw you now and saw someone he couldn’t be without. Like someone had made him see you in a completely different light. Had he always felt like this and only now realised?

“Have you seen the-“ You turn your head back around and notice his eyes solely on you, feeling a blush burn at your cheeks, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just-“ He stops himself.

“Focus on the road Fisher,” You roll your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest on the chair.

“That’s my sweatshirt,” He points out, turning another corner as the two of you drive down another country lane.

Eventually, he parks the car up on the hills overlooking the town, both of you still sat in the front seats staring out over the dark view.

“So why couldn’t you sleep?” Conrad asks you, leaning his head back against the headrest.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Just stuff on my mind I guess.”

He nods, “Go on.”

“Do you-“ You stop yourself, shifting in your seat so that you’re sat sideways, facing him directly, “Do you feel like… I don’t know, like this summer has been different than before?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, “In what way?”

“Come on Con,” You scoff, “I feel like I stranger showing up here again, I know you’re all looking at me like I’m a new person.”

He jumps the gun quickly to correct you, “It’s not like that, I know you’re still you.”

You roll your eyes, “Then why are you being so different with me?”

“I just-“ He stops himself, reaching out to brush your hair away from your face, as if he wants to frame your features in the perfect light, “It just feels like this summer I actually woke up. Saw what was right in front of me.”

“And what’s that?” You stop yourself from smiling, feeling so nervous with the way he cupped your cheek.

His thumb brushes along your jaw, until it is at the base of your chin, “You.”

Slowly, cautiously, like he’s giving you both the time to overthink, he draws you into him and you pull to him like a magnet. His breath fans over your lips before you close the space between you, his lips soft and uncertain against yours. You hadn’t kissed anyone before, you didn’t have a clue on what to do. But his hand keeps you pulled into him and his fingers are in your hair and his lips move against yours like they were meant to be there. He holds you like he’s been waiting to for a short forever.

Conrad’s hands move lower, pressing against your back to pull you into him, both of you angled awkwardly over the console of the car. He fumbles in his seat to draw you close to him despite the block between you and both of you laugh against each other.

“Terrible place for a first kiss,” He mumbles against you, his forehead pressing against yours.

You smile and pull away from him, “I think we’re just impatient.”

“Oh I think we’ve both waited long enough to do that,” He scoffs, “C’mere.”

One hand drops to draw his chair as far away from the wheel as it will go before they’re both back onto you, gripping and grasping at your hoodie to pull you over to him. You giggle as you clamber over onto his lap.

He grips your waist as you settle down onto his thighs, your noses bumping together in the small space.

“Hi,” You grin, holding both of his shoulders as if convincing yourself he was real.

His hands slip beneath the waistband of your hoodie, for no other reason than to convince himself that you were real too, that he could feel you there.

“Hi.”

———

You and Conrad had stayed together for the following year without any hiccups. He drove to your home, you drove to Boston, you met in the middle in Cousins. You spent Thanksgiving with his family, and he came to yours after Christmas. You called each other nearly every night and the long distance never seemed to feel like too far. All up until when the two of you were back in Cousins. Your parents hadn’t come this summer but you had, and you stayed at Susannah’s place. It was the most time you and Conrad had ever spent together, waking up together, going to sleep together, it was all you’d been wanting since he’d first kissed you in that car.

But all pieces of heaven come with tiny bits of hell. And it didn’t take too long for the perfect bubble to burst.

You’d been at the beach at a bonfire party, and you’d been accepting any drink that someone offered you. It was starting to hit you a little bit, the sort of buzz that warmed your veins and heightened your confidence.

“Where’s Con?” You frown at Jeremiah, squinting around the mass of bodies to try and spot your boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” Jere shrugs, “I think I saw him with Steven by the fire.”

You nod and trail your steps in that direction, stumbling a little on the uneven sand.

“Hey!” An unfamiliar pair of hands grab your waist, “Come and dance with me.”

You push them away and turn your head back to see a boy you don’t recognise, rolling your eyes.

“Oh come on, don’t be boring,” He encourages, “Dance with me.”

His hands snake around your waist again and you push them off.

“Get off me!” You exclaim, turning around to face him.

“Oh is that how you’re playing it?” The boy smirks, “What have you got a boyfriend or something?”

“I-“

“Hey, do you want to back the fuck off?” Conrad’s voice bellows from beside you, coming up towards the boy and shoving him square in the chest.

He stumbles backwards on the sand but catches himself before he falls.

“Who the fuck are you?” The boy scoffs, looking up to meet Conrad’s eyes before looking back at you, at the way Conrad shields you with his body, “You’re her boyfriend?”

“How about you leave her alone?” Conrad waves the boy off, watching as he walks off from the both of you before he turns around to face you.

“God he wouldn’t get off me he-“

“We’re going home.”

Conrad’s voice is cold, emotionless - a way you’d never heard him speak towards you.

“Wh-“

“We’re leaving,” He snaps once again, “I’m driving.”

“Con wh-“

He holds your arm in his grasp and tries to lead you away from the party, getting you as far as being just slightly away from the big crowd.

“Conrad get off me, you’re hurting me!” You exclaim, pulling your wrist from his grip, “What’s wrong with you?”

“(Y/n) you’re drunk and we’re going home,” He says harshly, looking at you with eyes that didn’t feel like his own, “Now get in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You wrap your arms over your chest, “Why are you being like this?”

“Because you’ve got guys fucking trying it on with you, thinking they’ve got a chance with you, and I’m stood right there (Y/n)!”

“Nothing happened!” You half-laugh, “He grabbed me and I told him to stop. What the fuck is wrong with that?”

“You think they don’t think they’ve got a chance with you?” Conrad raises his eyebrows, “Are you fucking blind?”

“No I’m not blind Conrad but I’m not going to fucking cheat on you with the first guy that shows me attention. Who the hell do you think I am?”

His shoulders drop a little like he’s realised the effect, but Conrad being Conrad will only let the mask slip for so long before he’s back to the coldhearted demeanour he seemed to have adopted for the night.

“Okay, we’re taking both of you home,” Steven walks over to interject, “I’ve not been drinking, I’m driving.”

You look at Conrad for a moment longer like you’re hoping he’s going to change his mind and reach out for you and apologise but he doesn’t make any move to do so.

He walks off ahead with Steven and you walk behind with Belly and Jeremiah.

Everyone is deathly silent on the drive home until you reach the house and they mumble a quick ‘good night’ before going into separate bedrooms. Conrad still hasn’t looked you in the eyes and, as you sober up more and more, you’re convincing yourself he never will.

“Con can we please-“

You pause as you watch him rummaging through the closet to pull out a pillow and blanket.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping downstairs,” He returns bitterly, turning around towards the door.

“You can’t be serious,” You scoff, “That’s it? You’re not even going to talk to me about it?”

“I’ve said what I wanted to say,” Conrad shrugs, “We’re not going to agree so now what?”

“We fight it out Conrad. We talk about it like fucking adults,” You shake your head, “We don’t just give up and act like each other’s worst enemy.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? I’m not the one with a guys arms around my fucking waist!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” You yell, unbothered about every other pair of listening ears in the house.

Conrad doesn’t reply once more, stepping past you to walk into the corridor.

“You know what? Go fuck yourself Conrad,” You state coldly and he glances back only momentarily to watch as you slam the bedroom door, feeling it shake the room around you before you fall to the floor in tears.

The only other sound comes from his feet creaking the stairs on their way down.

—

The following morning, you’re up before anyone else in the house. You could barely sleep in the night, feeling oddly cramped in the spacious bed, feeling cold in the too-hot room.

Eventually, you give up on trying to sleep any more and instead make your way downstairs.

The couch is empty, apart from a small pile with the pillow and blanket stacked on top of each other. You frown a little at the sight, desperate for the calm of seeing Conrad asleep and peaceful. Your eyes draw outside to the garden where you can just about make out the shape of a body across one of the sun loungers, tucked away in the shade at the side of the pool.

He must be freezing.

You grab the blanket from the couch and tuck it under your arm, stepping outside as quietly as you can to reach Conrad.

His arms are wrapped over his chest and his heads tilted to the side, stretching out his prominent jawline. His breaths are calm and even and you’re conscious as ever to not wake him as you stretch out the blanket to lay over him.

You’re just about to turn away when you see his eyes start to flutter open just a little.

“(Y/n)?” Conrad’s voice croaks as you turn back towards the house.

You grimace a little and look down at the floor, “I- I thought you might be cold.”

Certain more than ever that this wasn’t the time to start up another argument, you start to make your way back inside with hurried steps.

“(Y/n) wait!” Conrad calls after you, “Will you stay?”

You pause in your steps and turn around to face him, “I-“

But it’s easier to not say a word, as if you don’t want to ruin the moment. You walk over to him slowly and he shifts over on the lounger so that there’s one thin half of it for you to lay on. He stretches out an arm and you lay down, resting your head on his chest whilst his other arm drapes the blanket over you. Both of you are silent at first, as if wanting to breathe in every ounce of contact you’d been missing.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Conrad says, trailing one hand up and down your back, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

You nod, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve just listened to you and I know you we-“

“Baby,” He speaks so softly you’re sure your heart swells at the feeling of him coming back to you.

You lean up slightly, just enough to rest on your elbow and turn your head to face him.

“I was in the wrong,” He assures you, “I’d been drinking and I saw you with that guy and I just flipped and I shouldn’t have.”

You nod, resting a hand on his chest, “It was kind of hot when you shoved him though.”

Conrad chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you between his legs, letting you lay over his torso, “You think?”

You shrug, “Just yell at the guy more and not me next time.”

He smiles softly, “Noted.”

———

Arguments came rarely and calmly between the two of you after that day. When you did disagree, it was softer and sadder - less fuelled and less aggressive. Conrad never raised his voice at you, and you never raised your voice at him. You told him when you were upset and he told you when he was irritated. It worked.

You’d been together for five years before things changed again. You were a year out from graduating college and Conrad was practically waiting for the day when you would. He’d already graduated so he came to visit you on the weekends when he could, he worked a job in a research lab in Boston and he’d call you when he finished to tell you about what he’d done that day. The plan for after you graduated was to get the money to buy your parents’ Cousins house from them. The two of you, in Cousins, in the place you’d fell in love. It would be a dream.

You were back in Cousins for the summer after your third year of college and you were, of course, staying with his family and the Conklins. Everything had been completely normal until this one day where it felt like the whole house’s mood had shifted.

“Morning babe,” You yawn as you walk downstairs, into the kitchen where Conrad and Jere are speaking in hushed tones.

They stop abruptly when you walk in.

“Hey!” Jeremiah smiles a little too widely, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna head out.”

You frown as he hurries past you and turn back to Conrad.

“What was that about?”

He shrugs and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Jere’s Jere.”

You rest your head against his chest and breathe in the scent of cologne that clings to his clothes.

“Do you fancy waffles?” He suggests, his hands moving up to your shoulders to massage the skin over the material of your baggy t-shirt.

You pull away from him and narrow your eyes, “Waffles?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Im being romantic,” He rolls his eyes at you, walking away to get the ingredients from the cupboard.

“Oh I’m not complaining,” You grin, pushing yourself to sit on the countertop, “Did I forget an anniversary or something?”

“Can’t a guy do something nice for his girlfriend without an ulterior motive?” He questions you, walking over to open the cupboard beside your legs, pulling out the waffle iron.

You shrug, “We’ll see.”

As he stands back up, he leans in quickly to kiss you, “I’ve got some errands to run later but I’ll be back in time for dinner, Belly suggested we all go out.”

“Our for dinner? We never go out for dinner,” You frown, “Why would we-“

“Stop being so suspicious,” Conrad scoffs, “We’ll go somewhere nice.”

“You’re weird today,” You joke and he rolls his eyes at you once again.

—

Later that day, Conrad’s still out and you get a text from him telling you he’ll meet you at dinner rather than coming home first. You’ve been lounging around the house since he left, soaking in the sun in the garden before you came in to shower.

Belly knocks on your bedroom door as you’re laying across the bed watching The Office.

“Hey!” She grins, “Do you know what you’re wearing to dinner?”

You frown as she drops down onto your mattress, “No I’ll probably just put a jumper on or something.”

“I think-“ She looks around your room, “I think we should dress up.”

“Dress up? You’ll never get the boys to agree to that,” You laugh, “Where are we even going?”

She shrugs, “You’ll find out.”

You lean up onto your elbows and narrow your eyes at her, “Why’s everyone being so suspicious today? What aren’t you telling me?”

She laughs and her mouth moves like she can’t find the words, “I’m not saying anything.”

“Belly!” You exclaim as she hurries off from your bed.

“Just… wear something nice,” She sticks her head around the frame of your door, “Maybe that white dress that Conrad loves.”

You glance over to the closet and glaze over your appearance in the mirror. Maybe you should make an effort, it was rare you were ever going anywhere fancy enough to do anything like that. But they all seemed set on making this night a good one - who were you to question that?

Within the hour, you’ve done some light makeup, brushed through your hair and curled the bits around your face, and pulled on the white dress that Conrad loved so much.

When you step out to walk down the stairs, Belly, Steven, Taylor and Jere are all stood looking up at you.

“What the fuck is going on?” You laugh, “I feel like I’m going to prom.”

“Wh-“ Steven coughs, glancing at the others, “We’re just, um, you know, we don’t want to be late.”

You grab your purse quickly and hurry down the stairs, “Calm down, Im ready now.”

They follow you outside and you all walk over to Jere’s car where you go to open the back door.

“Um,” Belly stops you, “You can sit in the front.”

You look at her with a puzzled expression before climbing into the front with Jeremiah, watching as the other three pile into the back.

“Seriously guys what the fuck is going on?” You question as Jere pulls off from the driveway and starts down the road.

“What are you talking about?” Taylor shrugs, “We’re just hungry.”

“Everyone’s like treading on eggshells with me today, it’s weird,” You comment, “Con seemed like weirdly nervous before he left earlier too, I’ve never seen him run out of the door so quickly and I-“

You pause as the sights around you seem to change, Jeremiah taking a turn down a country lane.

“Jere this isn’t the way to the restaurant we need to go…”

You stop yourself once more as his face breaks into a grin that it’s impossible to hide.

“Seriously what aren’t you telling me?” You turn around to glance at the three of them in the back, all of their heads close together looking out of the windscreen.

Belly nods her head in that direction and you turn back to the front, your lips parting and every single sensation in your body seeming to ignite and disappear all in one moment.

There, in the exact spot where he’d first kissed you, is Conrad.

There’s a scattering of rose petals laid out across the grass and candles lining the edge of the cliff that dips down towards the town.

“Oh my god,” You exhale, glancing at the others in the car with tears already in your eyes.

“Go on, I think he’s waiting for you,” Jeremiah nods, squeezing your arm.

The other three look at you with widened eyes and bright smiles on their faces as you open the passenger door and step out.

“I was worried Jere would take you the wrong way,” Conrad calls over to you as you walk over towards him.

“Conrad this is-“ You stop yourself, glancing around at the sight that you’re sure is something out of a dream, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You look beautiful,” Conrad reaches out his hands for you to hold, “I- God, I’d planned this whole thing and now it’s like I don’t know where to start.”

You step just a foot in front of him and squeeze his hands, looking up at him with watering eyes.

“(Y/n) I love you,” Conrad smiles back at you, “And there are a thousand words I could say now to tell you that, but nothing will be more important than telling you that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. And so…”

“Oh my god,” You release again, watching as he lowers down onto his knee, reaching back into his pocket to pull out a small velvet box.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n) will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” You repeat once again as if they’re the only words going through your brain, your eyes spilling with tears.

Conrad looks up at you with overwhelming emotion in his eyes, “Well?”

“Yes!” You laugh, grasping either side of his face in your hands as he stands up onto his feet, “Of course! Yes!”

He looks down to push the silver ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting you up into his grasp before he lowers you down to the ground. His eyes shift into that same adoration they’d held for you when you first came here that night, and he leans in to kiss you with the same excitement as that first time too.

At the sight, a chorus of cheers extend from the car and you both glance over to see all four of them staring out the window with wide grins over their faces.

You laugh through the tears in your eyes and Conrad tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible.

In that moment, in that perfect moment, you think of your six year old self, when you’d been a blushing mess meeting Conrad for the first time. Your twelve year old self so terrified at the thought of kissing him. The sixteen year old self that first kissed him in that car. And every year since of loving him.

You see yourselves getting married, your families laughing and telling you they knew it would be this way all along. The two of you growing old together, watching your kids grow up too. And, eventually, being sat in the same spot on this same cliff overlooking this same town, with the boy who’d held your heart for your entire life.

The boy who’d always be your Connie.

#tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp imagine #tsitp one shot #tsitp drabble #tsitp blurb #tsitp request #tsitp conrad #tsitp x reader #tsitp x you #tsitp x y/n

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syoddeye · 1 month

Text

unsolicited

semi creepy little thing inspired by @pfhwrittes's incredible soap x reader roommate piece and this thought i had once upon a time. ~1k words. unedited, because i'm about to be dragged out to watch sports. gaz x reader. cw: dick pic, stalking, masturbation

“That one’s no good,” A tongue clicks.

You turn from your close study of the tube of tomato paste in your hand and find a man inches from your side. The aisle was empty save for you a second ago. Either he’s light on his feet or a ghost. A twinned tingling of your belly and spine fires off mixed signals to your brain: Are we scared or horny?

Both.

He's handsome—he knows it, too, judging by the hook of his smile and the slight crinkle of his nose. He sports a scar on his cheek and the right amount of stubble. He looks down at you, all smug, like he's saved you from an unforgivable culinary mistake. He tears his deep brown eyes off you to reach toward the top shelf and selects a beautifully branded sealed box of paste. It's artisanal, not within your price range, and he sets it in your handbasket like you're shopping for dinner together.

“You’ve got to treat yourself to nice things once in a while.”

Oh, he thinks he’s so quick with it, doesn’t he?

You smile so wide it pushes the apples of your cheeks up like a cartoon chipmunk. It usually does the trick of deterring smarmy little bastards like this one. “Wow, thank you, what a gentleman.” The feigned saccharine lilt of your voice hurts after a long day on the phone, but the look on his face when you swap the pastes is worth it. You leave the fancy one on the shelf and continue down the aisle for pappardelle.

He finds you in produce. He doesn’t immediately approach, giving you space while you grab an onion and garlic, but he circles.

“So, what’s on our menu tonight?” He asks, inspecting the leek as you place a vine of tomatoes into the basket. He’s too close again. His hand lowers the vegetable to his own haul, purposefully skimming your skirt with the spindly leaves, letting the texture catch the fabric before he drops it in. Nutcase.

“I’m making pasta for my friends.”

He chuckles.

The dance continues around the store. He’s clearly following you through the store, not trying to hide it at all. He ‘helps’ you at the dairy. Heavy cream’s better than light, don’t you think? The spices. Babe, we can afford name brand. The meat counter. Bacon? No, no, here. Pancetta. You want that meat. Trust me. He’s insistent and inappropriate, yet his voice drips with the weirdest charm. Calls you ‘babe’ and ‘sweetheart’. You let him continue. You should find an employee and tell him to buzz off, but he’s not really doing anything other than raising your grocery budget. Maybe you do deserve nice things, though. You sit on a seesaw, bouncing between sick interest and appropriate unease.

You’d always been a thrill-seeker, but stringing along a beautiful, perverted, and officious stranger? Were your last few dates so terrible?

By the time you reach checkout, you’re bored of his antics. He must be desperate to seal the deal and get your number, given how his approach escalates to trying to pay for your groceries.

“Is he bothering you?” The cashier asks bluntly, glaring daggers at your shadow. At the end of the counter, the bag boy’s head pops up, eyes wide at the question.

You glance at the hand, reaching past again to place a card on the counter. You catch half a name. Kyle. You look at the older man. “Yes, yes, he is.”

It’s a wonder what a few strategic smiles can do. They’re catnip to men like Gerald, the store manager who walks you out. He’s soft-spoken and apologetic and slips you a gift card. Your groceries are free, and so is next week’s haul if you promise to remain a loyal customer. If being followed by a harmless model of a man pays for your food, you’ve done stranger things for money.

Still, you take the long way to Alyssa’s and look over your shoulder. That night, over pappardelle alla Fiesolana, Grocery Kyle becomes a joke. A morbid fantasy you and your friends giggle over between glasses of wine. He becomes a real fantasy that night when you snake your hands between your legs beneath the duvet and imagine him smirking down at you. Condescending the whole time, he talks you through it. He’s the type that likes the sound of his own voice. Your fingers curl, and you cum at the idea of him scolding you for being so easy.

The following day, somewhat hungover on your couch, you warm your hands with coffee and open Instagram. One new follower. It's not so odd; you have hundreds of followers. Mostly bots at this point, but you're too lazy to weed them out. You don't post as often anymore, either, nor do you share exciting things. Flowers, cats you meet on your walks, and the rare selfie. So when you see that the new follower liked a photo from nine years ago, that sick little twinge sparks something in your belly. A spark that grows when another notification pops up. And another. They're on a liking spree, driving through your memory lane.

When they like your very first post on the account, an awkward self-portrait in front of your first-year dorm eleven years ago, you finally investigate.

‘Sgt141’ has no profile photo. No description. No followers. No posts. Only follows you. It’s another bot spamming your notifications for some unknown reason.

You forget about it until you post a selfie from the gym two weeks later. Nothing scandalous, just showing off your growing biceps. Sgt141 is the first to like it, and minutes later, you receive a DM request. You fully expect a generic chain, formulaic message about being your own boss. The dick is a surprise.

A very pretty and completely unsolicited surprise.

In an instant, you know whose dick you’re looking at.

You should be scared and report the message instead of screenshotting it. You should be disgusted, alarmed, and probably crying. Not stuffing your hand down your shorts.

Definitely shouldn’t respond.

> someone got a crush?

>> you have no idea.

> following me around the grocery store did it for you?

>> did a lot for me, actually.

> maybe you can follow me around the mall next time.

sgt141 changed the theme to Love.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cw stalking #cw unsolicited dick pic

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