#— angie's silly moments ! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelwings-crossbowstrings · 5 months ago

Text

So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst

Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.

A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!🩵) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for 🩵

*gif is not mine

“It doesn’t even hurt.��

“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw.

You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout.

And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled.

“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”

You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”

Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”

Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you?

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression.

“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught.

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous.

“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling.

“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend.

And you just kept telling yourself that.

Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later.

You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long.

Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood.

You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week?

You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely.

You should have turned away but you didn’t.

And then you wished you had.

Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them.

You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name.

You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you.

And he didn’t tell you a lot.

You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was.

But you weren’t happy.

It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her.

She didn’t deserve his smile.

She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel.

That had been you. Always you.

The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help.

The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach.

You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly.

And somehow, that’s what made the tears come.

There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice.

When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder.

“It’s Y/N, right?”

Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”

“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight.

“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder.

“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have.

“Yeah, you know—a couple.”

Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her.

“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons.

“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside.

“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.

“I’m going with you today.”

His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”

“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.

“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”

Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”

“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.”

“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.

“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.

“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch.

Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”

“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”

“Daryl.”

“No, Y/N.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp.

“Y’don’t mean that.”

You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did.

“Y/N—”

“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop.

When the door closed, the floodgates opened.

Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home.

Did he have that with her now?

“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.

“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t.

“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.

The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“I—”

The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further.

Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted.

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information.

“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.”

You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him.

And it was such a lie.

“Y/N, wait!”

You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again.

When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”

“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”

You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!

“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing.

“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”

When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you.

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.

God, you were an asshole.

To her.

To Daryl.

Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary.

“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”

The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this.

Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive.

His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale.

“Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background.

Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”

“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”

“How?” You sniffled.

“Window was in my way.”

You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own.

“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”

You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted.

“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself.

“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.

“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”

Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.

“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you.

When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”

“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”

“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.

“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.”

“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.

And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

361 notes · View notes

monzabee · 1 year ago

Text

sunday blues – ms47 (+18)

masterlist || part 1 || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where Mick helps you the best way he knows when you’re feeling insecure.

Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, crying, cursing, fluff, insecurities and self-depreciating thoughts, smut, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), google translate german, praise words, minors dni!!

Request: “Hello! I am so obsessed with your recent fic with Mick and Seb's daughter, so I was wondering if you could write something where she is feeling very insecure and stressed and he just kind of helps her through her feelings, maybe something smutty to show her how much he lovers her body or something?👀”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this request has been sitting in my inbox for longer than i’d like to admit, but i’m so happy i got it done! it’s been a while since i wrote smut so if it doesn’t make sense i sincerely apologise, but as always thank you to the anon for the request and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Mick didn’t expect to find you the way he did when he was leaving your flat to take Angie on her morning walk, he really didn’t – because when he was leaving this morning, after having kissed you goodbye while you were still asleep, everything seemed fine. And although he is not the one to stress in these type of situations, his mind automatically goes to the worst possible scenario when he comes home to you crying on your couch in your bathrobe. So he does the expected, he asks whether you hurt yourself – the answer is no. Did something happen to anyone from your family? Nu-uh. Is it social media related? Nope. Did someone physically did something to you? No Mick, you locked the door before you left the house.

Every possible question that comes to his mind being met with a negative answer from you has him perplexed to say the very least, so he takes a seat next to you and offers what he’s sure will put you in a better mood; cuddles. With you in his arms and Angie on your lap, you do feel better, but he makes sure to ask any other possible option that comes to his mind.

“Did you try to bake cookies again?” His voice wanders off, his fingers running through the ends of your braid.

You lightly punch his arm, and then return your attention back to petting Angie as you pout and mumble out, “My cookies were not burnt, they were lightly toasted.”

He lets out a sigh, and after pressing numerous kisses to your hair to coax you, he gently raises your chin up for you to meet his eyes. “I give up, please just tell me what’s bothering you, hase.”

There’s a fresh wave of tears accumulating in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks, and it absolutely makes his heart clench. You lightly push yourself out of his arms, careful not to disturb the dog sprawled on both of you guys’ lap, “Nothing, you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No I won’t,” he promises, fighting you in order to gather you back into his arms, but you’re not above fighting dirty – meaning using your nails to keep him away. “Are–” He takes a moment to pause and clear his throat, “Are you on your period?”

Mick watches as your lips part and a sound of indignation break free from the back of your throat. Without bothering Angie too much, you turn in your place to swat at his chest as you hiss, “You are an ass, Mick.”

“Bu– I didn’t mean –” He scrambles to get out, but you’re already walking towards your bathroom, and all he can do is watch you walk away from him. This time, his eyes meet Angie’s, and he can swear his dog is giving him the biggest side-eye known to mankind, but he can only breath out a, “I messed that one up big time, didn’t I?”

Angie gets up from his lap to walk towards the bedroom. Mick soon follows closely behind towards the bathroom.

You can hear his knocks and a faint Can I come in?, through the closed bathroom door, but as you try to tame the mess that is your hair, you call out to him, “No!” And because Mick is a gentleman, and arguably the best boyfriend in the universe, he actually waits outside the bathroom. Eventually, though, you feel bad making him wait outside by the door and with a final glance in the mirror, you stomp a few steps and push the bathroom door open, revealing Mick's concerned face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but before he can continue with the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with yet another swat of your hand to his chest and another fresh wave of tears.

“I am not, and I repeat – not, on my period.” With a final hit to his chest, you walk back to your previous spot in front of the sink and try to brush the knots in your hair.

Wincing at the way you’re aggressively dragging the brush through your hair, Mick walks towards you to stand behind you at the sink and gently takes the brush out of your hand. “Here, let me do it.” And though you don’t want to admit, he’s gentle yet successful as he brushes your hair out for you. With his eyes occasionally drifting to watch you over the bathroom mirror, he dutifully manages to finish brushing your hair, and soon after you are back in his arms as he wraps them around your middle. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

You shake your head with another sniffle, “It’s not important.”

“Hase, please,” he practically begs as his attention is drawn to your puffy eyes, “it is important if you’re still crying over it.”

With a guilty look on your face and an apprehensive voice that absolutely breaks his heart, you mumble, “You really want to know?” This time it is you who is meeting his eyes through the mirror to see him nod sheepishly, and as you occupy yourself with his fingers you find yourself mumbling again, “My, uh, my boobs are too small.”

“Your what, is what?” Mick stammers in surprise, blinking at the unexpected confession. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his fingers tangle themselves with yours. “Hase, are you serious?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission. “Yes, and don’t call me that.”

“What?” With more confusion he stammers out, “I– I thought you liked it, it’s cute.”

He watches you let out a soft whimper, and then throw your head back against his chest in frustration. After sniffling and, yet, another fresh wave of tears, which Mick quickly wipes away as he keeps his gaze locked to yours, “I’m not supposed to be cute.”

“Oh?” he asks, “And what are you supposed to be, then?”

“I don’t know!” The sudden sob breaking out from the back of your throat has his eyes widening in surprise, and also concern – but for the first time that morning, you seem to be talking about what’s been wrong, so he has no intention to interrupt you. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore! I can’t be too perfect or too flawed, too confident or too uncertain; people have opinions and they are not afraid to voice them, so I end up feeling not enough for the majority of time.” Mick’s hold tightens around as you let out a particularly violent sob, “And my boyfriend has bigger boobs than me!”

Mick's eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief as your last sentence tumbles out, and for a moment, there's a pause in the air as he processes your words. “So you’re sad, because you think your boobs are not big enough?”

“Well yeah,” you mumble, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious under his gaze. “I told you you’d think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mick announces, “everybody gets insecure sometimes; what I don’t understand is why on earth you would compare yourself like that.” Mick's fingers gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, and he turns you towards himself to lift your chin up, “You’re perfect the way you are, hase.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words slowly starting to sink in. “I just don’t want to feel like this all the time.”

“I know, darling,” he coos and then offers you a gentle smile, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your cheek. “You’re perfect, you hear me? My perfect girl, hm?” He ignores a whiny objection in the form of you dragging out his name. “The kindest,” he leans in towards you, “and the smartest,” then presses his lips against your forehead, “the most beautiful girl inside and out.”

“Micki,” his names comes off from your lips in a whispery sigh, your head turning sideways as his nose nudges your jaw. His warm breath tickles your skin as he continues to nuzzle against your jaw, his lips brushing over your skin in gentle, feather-light kisses. His lips stretch when you let out a soft giggle, “It tickles.”

Mick's lips curve into a playful smile against your jaw, and he continues to pepper your skin with those feather-light kisses, this time intentionally causing a cascade of giggles from you. His touch is tender, his affection evident in each sweet gesture.

“It does, doesn't it?” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he moves his kisses to your cheek.

You squirm slightly in his embrace, the ticklish sensation mixed with delight. “Baby, stop,” you manage to say between giggles, even as your fingers find their way to his sides, retaliating with a gentle poke.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” With a final loving peck to your cheek, Mick relents and holds you closer to himself as your giggles slowly subside. As your giggles subside, Mick tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with tenderness, lock onto yours, and he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Feeling better?” he asks softly.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you give him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, Micki, I promise.” Ignoring the look he gives you, which tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say, you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being here, you know?”

“Of course, hase,” he mumbles in thought, the material of your robe feeling soft under his touch as he lets the cogs turn in his head. With his eyebrows furrowing, he grabs you by the waist and raises you up to sit you on the bathroom counter. “On the second hand, I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you, hm?” Ignoring yet another objecting sound from your lips, he places a kiss on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck, and moves his kisses down until he’s met with your robe again. With a playful glint in his eyes, he lets his fingers work the knot of your robe’s belt.

His eyes widen as his brain registers the fact that you are not wearing anything underneath the robe, and you reply to his flabbergasted look with an innocent shrug of your shoulders as you give him the excuse, “I was about to take a shower before I… well, had a moment.”

You watch as a string of expletives leave his lips, and he needs to take a moment to recover as he mumbles, “Guter Gott.” Though, as your breathy giggles bring him back to the present, he pushes your robe off your shoulders in a quick move, and you realise there is a much darker look in his eyes when your eyes meet again, “And you think my girls are not enough.”

Before you can answer, his hands are quick to grab your breasts as he gives them a firm squeeze, causing you to forget whatever clever comeback you had and instead let out a shallow exhale. “They’re small,” you complain, but he is quick to shut you down by pinching your left nipple between his two fingers – not enough to make it actually hurt, but enough to shock you into shutting up and letting out a small yelp instead.

“Stop talking,” the sharper undertone of his voice has you biting the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation, but his eyes soften as he looks at the bewildered look on your face. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he fixes you with his stare as his hands go back to gently handling your breasts, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror so that you can see just how beautiful you are, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s a moan or telling me to stop.”

With a slacked jaw you stare at your boyfriend, your sweet Mick who is soft and treats you as if you’re a china doll most of the time. But now, he looks at you with a stern look in his eyes, and the fact that they are a few shades darker than their normally baby-blue colour tells you that he means business. “Can you kiss me first?” Your voice is breathy, because everything about Mick makes it harder to breath harder, and the corner of his mouth rise in a small smirk as his brain registers the desperation in your voice. “Please.”

“How can I not when my pretty girl is being so well-mannered?” He watches as you straighten up in your place, which causes you to come closer to his face and he lets out a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he moves his hands to cup your face and his thumbs gently caress the tops your cheeks. He teases you by dipping his head until his lips are touching yours, and he lets out another chuckle when you chase his lips when he slightly pulls away. But deciding to alleviate you from your pain, he finally presses his lips against yours – though his kiss is nothing like his soft touch from mere moments ago.

His tongue explores your mouth as if he hasn’t kissed you a million times before, but his kiss is as bruising as they come. He draws all kinds of noises from you, with a single kiss, and it would be concerning how much you lose yourself in him if it wasn’t too good. You manage to nip at his lower lip just as he is starting to pull away.

“Gut sein,” he mumbles, the small (but accomplished) smile on your lips bringing a smile to his own. “Now, what do you say to me for the kiss, hm?”

Be good, he says – you can totally do that. His lips move down to your jaw to then your neck, and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ when he starts nipping and sucking on your skin. “Thank you for the kiss, Micki,” you mumble breathily, your hands grabbing his forearms to move his hands from your face back onto your breasts. He lets an appreciative hum as his hands go back to fondling the skin under his hands, which elicits a louder moan from your lips, “Oh, that feels good.”

Mick’s reply comes in the form of another hum as he keeps on sucking hickeys, which will undoubtedly make you complain to him tomorrow, but the way he handles you is enough to convince you not to care. After he’s satisfied with handiwork; he pulls back from your neck to only dip his head more to take one of your nipples to his mouth while his hand is busy groping the other breast, causing you to weave your fingers through his hair to press him closer to your chest. His ministrations, combined with his intention of marking up your chest as he did your neck has you ending up as a whimpering mess on the bathroom counter, calling out Mick’s name to do something more in hopes of him keeping his promise. His voice is husky as he asks, “Now do you believe me?”

Your hands are on him the second he pulls away and his breathing is a mess while you scramble to get off his shirt; your hands gliding across his chest down to the start of his running shorts he has from his morning run, and he has to restrain himself from letting out a groan as you sit in front of him with wide eyes and lips that are pink from all the biting. You voice is also husky as you answer his question with one of your own, “Are you going to fuck me now, liebste?”

He smiles sweetly at your attempt of trying to take back the reigns, and he tries to appear in though as he slowly pulls you off the counter. “In a second, I have to check something first.” He quickly turns you around to face the mirror, where you watch his hand’s movements as it slides from your waist down to the front of your sleeping shorts. The gasp that leaves from between your lips causes his sweet smile to morph into something more mischievous, and you catch his smirk on the mirror in front of you as he lets his fingers feel the wetness between your legs. “You’re soaked, hase, I think you’re more than ready.”

“Yes, please,” your voice comes off in a whimper as you slip your hand behind you to palm the bulge that presses onto your back through the material of his shorts that hang lower on his hips. You let out another moan when his fingers make their way towards your clit, which is his way of reminding you of who’s in charge – and it’s most definitely not you given the fact that you almost topple over the counter when he presses his fingers with slightly more pressure. You hear him let out a low groan when you move your hand slightly, but his fingers continue their movements which causes you to let out small mews of pleasure.

After he pulls his fingers out of your short, and consequently makes a show of licking them clean that leaves you quite literally panting with need. Smirking at your reaction, he taps the outside of your upper thigh, “Spread your legs, baby, watch me on the mirror, hm?” He makes sure to place your hands on the countertop after he’s done taking of the remainder of your clothing and underwear. A part of you is sure he’s secretly enjoying the attention and how good you’re being as you silently watch him ges out of his own shorts and underwear. “You ready?”

“Mhm-hm,” you mumble as you nod quickly and gather your hair on one of your shoulders.

Mick presses his lips on your bare shoulder as he grabs your waist with one of his hands, grabs the base of his cock with his free hand and guides it between your legs – a gasp leaves your lips as the tip of his cock presses into you. He’s slow as he guides the rest of his cock into your pussy, and you drag out his name under your breath. “So good,” he murmurs as his hand joins his other one on your hip, and he tries to keep his hips still to give you an opportunity to get used to it, “always feel so good for me.”

Your hands grab the marble tighter as the stretch has you wanting to just press your hips backwards against his, “Move, Micki, please.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror and chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby,” he repeats his words from before – but he obliges you nonetheless, as he pushes in all the way in a move that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. He is slow as he starts moving his hips in a steady rhythm. But soon he picks up the rhythm, and every snap of his hips to yours has you becoming more and more of a whimpering mess. His eyes capture your blush that is painting your cheeks and he lets his eyes wander lower where it has started to move towards your chest, which he’s more than welcome to adore the view of your breasts moving with every move his hips makes.

The moans that rip from the back of your throat become louder, stronger and more demanding as Mick decides to thrust himself deeper into you – a sweet reminder that you’ll definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. You can’t seem to form sentences with words other than more, please and various forms of his name, but he grants you what you want when one of your hands leave the counter to pull him in for a kiss. It’s messy and rushed, but it leaves you lightheaded as you find yourself begging for more when he pulls away. “No, no, I want more,” a high-pitched whine begs, and you drag out the next word, “please.”

Mick lowers his head enough for his lips to be level with your ear. “Look into the mirror, hase,” his breath hits your skin, and he rewards you with a sweet smile, “you see what I see?”

“I don’t see you giving me another kiss,” you grumble, but quickly stop rebutting when his hips deliver a rather sharp push, “fuck, that feels good.”

“Look how beautiful you look,” he pants, his laboured breath hitting your ear, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You’re sure your skin will be bruised from the way his fingers grabs onto your hips – not that it would look out of place with other parts of your body he’s already marked you on. “And you say you’re not enough, God, hase.”

Your hand snakes its way from his neck towards his hair as your fingers thread through his locks. “I need more, Micki, please.”

But unfortunately for you, Mick has every intention of ignoring your pleas. “Do you know why I call you hase?” Between the haze of him fucking you into the counter and his breathy words, you manage to give him a weak shake of your head. “It’s because I love seeing your tits when you’re bouncing on my cock.” To accentuate his point, he holds your hips in place as he delivers sharper thrusts.

“I thought it was because of the way I scrunch my nose,” you gasp while pulling at his hair. Though it is not exactly the part he chooses to focus on – instead, he watches as your already blushed cheeks become a deeper shade. Another gasp, this time laced with a louder moan, is ripped from you when he continues the sharper movement of his hips, “I– Mick, right there!”

“Shh, I got you,” he soothes your moans as he stills the movement of his hips for a minute to hike your left leg to rest it on the counter and then grabs the hand you have raised up to do the same, “hang on for me, okay?” He watches as you give him a tentative look through the mirror as he wraps his arm across your middle to reach for your clit as he harshly pushes himself back into you.

Combined with his thumb applying pressure onto your clit and the way he’s filling you up once again causes you to moan his name louder than before. “I’m not going to last,” the whiny words leave your lips before you can stop them, and he gives you a smirk as his fingers quicken their pace, “fuck, Micki, just like that.”

Lost in the pleasure building up in your lower stomach, you don’t realise his free hand moving up to cup your breast until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers to draw out another moan from your lips, which sounds more like a scream because of all the please you’re feeling. “Do you see how beautiful you are? Look at yourself, baby.”

“Please Mick,” you let out a moan meddled with a sob as you watch your reflection in the mirror – the way your body is shaking with every movement of his hips and the way his front is pressed into your back, the disheveled look of your sweaty hair, and the way your wide eyes accompany your blushed cheeks, “make me come, please, I’m so close.” Your words must’ve acted as a source of motivation, since he quickens the pace of his hips and presses his thumb more as he continues the steady movements, which has you chanting out nothing but praises and a string of yes, yes, yes, yes.

Regardless of the condom he’s wearing, Mick can tell when you’re close as you clench around him, and he urges you to let go by mumbling into your skin, “It’s okay, hase, let it go.” And who are you to not give your boyfriend what he asks of you? So he’s there to guide you through your release while you sink your nails into his biceps to still yourself. He’s not far as he reaches his own peak and spills into you, which pulls yet another moan from you as you also hear his loud groan – a sound you’ll never get sick of hearing. You gasp lightly when he eventually pulls out of you; though when he sees the tired smile you give through the mirror (and yes, maybe he does call you hase because you do scrunch your nose while smiling), he responds with one of his own as he presses small kisses to your hairline, “There’s my smile.”

“I love you,” your raspy voice whispers, and suddenly you’re lost once again in the way he’s looking at you – a habit you’ll gladly keep.

“I love you too,” he responds, his nose nuzzling your jaw before giving you a sweet kiss, and it makes him chuckle lightly when you’re chasing his lips once again when he pulls away. “Come on, now we both need a shower.” The sounds of your giggles when he picks you up to get both of you into the shower, and as you hid your face in the crook of his neck you hear him mumble, “Mein hübsches mädchen.” My pretty girl.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher fluff

856 notes · View notes

lo1k-diamonds · 9 months ago

Text

Unique 💜 (Part 1)

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon/OC

SUMMARY: After overhearing something he shouldn't have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her bridesmaid company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more.

WORD COUNT: 20.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers (bonus: Yoongi has a secret)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, first meetings, light angst, Namjoon is a communication and consent king, protected sex, oral, fingering/handjob, toys, sapiosexuality, body worship, dirty talk, mouth riding, I think I can say switching (+ BTS being chaotic around RM and making him all embarrassed 😁)

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted there in March 2023)

A.N. Part 1 stands as a one-shot so I'm going to post it here to complement all the snippets from Part 2. I just love this one bad and I'm not even sure I can do it justice in the sequel 😩

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. ― Khalil Gibran

“When’s the last time you’ve seen her?”

Jimin’s voice echoed in the corridor as the other six men followed him.

“Before the tour, definitely,” Hoseok answered with a grin.

“Right?” Jimin asked, glancing at the others for confirmation.

“She didn’t even wait for us to have a bachelorette party,” Jin whined.

“Of course she couldn’t, she couldn’t wait until the eve of the wedding,” Taehyung scoffed.

“Why not?” Jungkook pouted with a raised eyebrow. They all stopped in front of the apartment door. “It’s what they do in the Hollywood movies, right?”

“She can’t attend her wedding with dark circles and a hangover,” Yoongi scoffed at their silliness. “That’s a Hollywood invention.”

“But she could have waited for us,” Jungkook pouted.

“And deal with BTS at her party?” Hoseok shook his head with a smile.

“Yeah, this is way better, guys,” Namjoon finally intervened. Jimin rang the doorbell. “This way we have a nice drink with her before the big party, and it will be just us remembering old times.”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agreed with a warm smile.

Jimin turned with a grin, “Maybe this is the time she’ll tell us all about the cream incident—”

“Uhhhh, won’t you look at the time—” Yoongi suddenly stammered, turning around with the intention to walk away.

Jungkook and Jin grabbed him, blocking him while everyone smirked. They teased him about it, but it was short-lived. The door opened and they all turned to greet the woman they wanted to meet.

“There’s our bride!”

“Our Hyejin is glowing!”

“Wow, you look so beautiful!”

“So pure and fresh!”

She giggled with a wide grin, pulling her long dark hair behind her shoulders. “I spent the day at the spa,” she boasted, stepping away for them to come in.

They complimented her complexion and radiance for a hot moment before she shooed them over to the living room.

“Wait there, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Namjoon was the last one in, and he stood around while the guys sat on the sofa and chairs in the dining room. Their chat was nice until they noticed Hyejin was taking way too long.

“I’ll go check on her,” Namjoon offered. He was already standing anyway.

“Bring alcohol,” Jimin asked playfully, making the others laugh.

Namjoon grinned and shook his head at their goofiness, but before he could enter the kitchen, he froze.

“We should finish our conversation,” a female voice said. What shocked him was not that he didn’t recognize it, but that it spoke in English.

“No, we should leave it for tomorrow. The friends I grew up with just arrived,” Hyejin’s tone was soft and hopeful. “I would like you to meet them.”

Whoever it was puffed, “I don’t speak Korean, you know that.”

“Angie—”

“Besides, don’t you think you should think about this before getting married?”

Hyejin released a deep impatient breath, “We shouldn’t speak of it right now—”

“It’s in English, they won’t understand anyway,” Angie dismissed dryly.

Hyejin was pressing her lips, “You’d be surprised. Actually—”

“Stop trying to dodge the issue.”

Namjoon took a deep quiet breath, he should probably announce himself before—

“I’m no one's reference in this, Hyejin,” Angie sighed. “But you should obviously find what works for you, not try to fit someone else’s ideal.”

“You say that, but you’re every guy’s ideal.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows twitched; Hyejin sounded upset. He wondered what they were talking about.

Angie laughed bitterly, “That is so far from the truth!” Unbeknownst to Namjoon, she was shaking her head with a sour smile. “Sure, in theory, every guy wants a girlfriend that enjoys and wants to have sex, but none like it when she has a bigger libido than they do.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

“How big exactly are we talking?” Hyejin suddenly perked up. She was very persistent when she wanted to. “No, let’s put a number on it. How many times have you had sex in the last month?”

Angie snickered, “Exactly zero.”

Hyejin was taken aback for a second, then she nodded, “Of course, you’re single.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, “That’s not why though…”

“Alright, then how many times did you masturbate in the last month?”

“Month??” Angie’s brown eyes were wide. “How am I supposed to count? Ahm, I guess…”

Namjoon was blushing, he rubbed his face to hide the embarrassment. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he wasn’t moving.

“Forget it then. What about… in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Three.”

Namjoon raised his head, that was a fast answer.

“Three?!”

Angie rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god, just go and have sex,” Hyejin smirked. “Let’s go out, I'll be your wing woman.”

“It’s not about that,” Angie’s voice was strained. “What I truly crave is intimacy. That’s why once is not enough, the orgasms feel thin as if something is missing. And to have sex, well… You know me, I need to trust the guy, to be able to have a conversation…”

“You’re too picky,” Hyejin had a playful tone.

“And here I was thinking I wanted the bare minimum…”

Hyejin laughed and suddenly gasped. She had crossed the kitchen’s archway to find Namjoon just standing there, out of sight, with his back against the wall. His eyes widened at being caught, his cheeks were red as tomatoes and he opened his mouth to surely stutter an apology.

“I’m going to bed,” the voice from the kitchen said, and Hyejin turned back to look at her best friend.

She glanced at Namjoon for a split second then smiled, “You know I got your back, right?”

Angie smiled, “Of course, and I got yours. You’re right, let’s talk better tomorrow,” she rubbed her face and pulled her sandy-colored hair back. “I’m too tired. At what time for brunch tomorrow?”

“Eleven,” Hyejin smiled after giving Namjoon a stink eye so he would stay where he was.

He was closing his eyes with his lips between his teeth, cursing his stupid curiosity. Hyejin was going to kill him.

“Perfect, I need to sleep my jetlag off. It’s the only hope I have to look like a human being tomorrow.”

Hyejin chuckled at Angie’s playfulness and waved her goodbye. Angie left through the opposite archway to reach the corridor that led to the bedrooms.

Then Hyejin turned to the red elephant in her dining room with a harsh look.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”

“I can trust that that conversation will—”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.”

“And the other guys?”

“Won't ever know about it.”

Hyejin released a deep breath, then eyed Namjoon from head to toe. The instant she saw him she cursed her luck that the only BTS member who was fluent in English was the one who happened to overhear their conversation. But now… maybe that was actually a blessing in disguise.

“Do you really regret it?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, of course!” He sounded pleading. “I should have never—”

“Namjoon! Oh—” Jin stumbled on them in surprise, “What is taking you so long?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, not sure of what to say, but Hyejin answered first, “He’s helping me with drinks. Soju?”

“And beer!” Jungkook yelled from the living room.

Jin grinned at the maknae’s request, then turned back to the two of them. “I’ll help—”

“No, Jin oppa, it’s okay,” Hyejin smiled. “I was talking with Joonie…”

Jin’s eyebrows raised, “Well, and I can’t hear it?”

“It’s important,” her tone was sweet as she pouted, and Jin sighed.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two be.”

Jin shrugged and left them, telling the others they’d bring drinks soon. Namjoon and Hyejin were close, it wasn’t weird that she wanted to speak with him alone.

She turned to Namjoon, “Make it up to me. To us.”

He frowned slightly, but then nodded, “Sure. What can I do?”

Hyejin licked her lips but then decided. “I would like it if you could be with Angie at the rehearsal tomorrow night and at the wedding.”

“Be with her?” He repeated, confused.

“Yes. Well, you speak English fluently and I don’t want her to be left alone and uncomfortable.” Hyejin released a deep breath, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t think of anyone else. Truth is I was going to ask you about it tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a lot to ask…” He answered, scratching his chin. “I’m more concerned about the tabloids.”

“It’s my wedding, Joon. No freaking tabloids or media,” her voice was harsh and he immediately regretted mentioning it. He knew how sensitive she was on the subject. “Plus you don’t have to be with her only, stay with the guys too. Just don’t leave her alone.”

He nodded with a small smile, “I can do that, don’t worry.”

She smiled happily with one less worry. “Consider it your wedding gift,” she playfully said, waving at him to follow her into the kitchen. They did need to get drinks.

Namjoon laughed, “No way, we already arranged something else.” His cute dimples were showing and she felt reassured. “Just don’t stress about it.”

She started getting the bottles and cans out of the fridge and putting them on the counter when she suddenly remembered. “Also… I’ll just say it to be sure. Don’t leave her alone with my brother. He has always had a thing for her and I’m afraid of how it could escalate.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows jumped up and a couple of thoughts ran through his mind. A look at Hyejin told him she could read him like an open book, and before he could apologize, Hyejin smacked him.

“Just because she has a big libido, it does not mean she’ll sleep with anyone,” she pointed out with frustration. “My brother included. He’s just a playboy and he’s married. Do not let him get near her, do you understand? He’ll harass her and I don’t want fights at my wedding.”

Namjoon, feeling deeply regretful again for his callous thoughts, just nodded and promised to be good company for Angie over the weekend.

He just didn’t know how to do it. He had never met her, not even seen her. He hoped he would get a glimpse of her before leaving, but throughout the night it was just them and Hyejin.

He kept playing the words she said in his mind, and he wondered what kind of person she was. She was definitely the type to be good friends with Hyejin, otherwise, she wouldn't be staying at her house or have her request that favor of him.

His mind was already contemplating how he should approach her: should he apologize, should he give her some advice, should he be her wingman, should he just play it cool? He kept wondering about all those things and by the time he entered the rehearsal dining hall with the rest of BTS the next night, he hadn’t made up his mind.

Hyejin was at the entrance with her fiancé, whom BTS knew well, and they greeted each other.

"So about that track—"

"No work talk at my party please," Hyejin interrupted quickly, making her fiancé smirk and step back from Yoongi.

"Yes, dear."

Namjoon got close to her and hugged her, "You look so beautiful."

She hugged him back closely, and he knew she was nervous and overwhelmed.

"You'll do what I asked you?" She asked with a hint of anxiety in her smile.

"Of course," he assured her with warmth, rubbing her arms once soothingly.

She nodded, "Thank you. She'll be here soon. Just be yourself."

He chuckled and scratched his neck, "About that…"

But he didn't get the chance to ask, as other people arriving pushed them in after a rushed photo with the bride and groom.

From then on it was a mess for a while. Lots of people he knew approached him and the others for a chat, and he couldn’t say no but he wasn't there to talk about work or pamper them. It was a celebration and he had made a promise, he couldn’t disappoint Hyejin and stress her even more.

The guys ended up splitting between the dancefloor, the bar, and their dining table. He ended up grabbing his whiskey and going to his spot on the table by himself. He sat down and sighed; parties were not his thing, and he got tired quickly.

He placed his glass down and then noticed the names on the cards next to him: on one side, Jin, on the other Angie Wagner. He blinked and leaned closer to see it. She'd sit next to him?

"So," a female voice he recognized sounded from behind him and made him turn. "On a scale of one to ten, how much did you understand the conversation last night?"

She pulled the chair to sit down next to him and he just stared. She was sitting in Angie’s spot, and he recognized her voice, so… Angie?

She was wearing a light lilac string dress that fell all the way to the floor. Her sandy blonde hair was braided in a hairdo, letting a few strands fall around her face and neck. Her eyes were brown and shiny, they looked incredibly astute and he suddenly had the feeling he would not be able to hide anything from her.

She raised her thin eyebrows quizzically and he stammered, “I— Well—” For a second he considered pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he gave up on it. “I believe most of it.”

She nodded, “Meaning all of it.”

He pressed his lips and looked down in clear regret, “How did you know?”

“Hyejin can’t lie to save her life. It was obvious she was looking at someone, despite her attempts to deny it.” Angie sighed, looking around at the card names on the table. “And I heard you speaking in English before.”

She waved back at the bar, and he nodded while pressing his lips in nervousness. He guessed she could connect the dots.

“So are you thinking I’m just a promiscuous Western woman or can I still save some face?”

His cheeks were becoming pink, but he chuckled, “I don’t think being Western has anything to do with it. You’re just freer to talk about it in Western countries, which I find a healthy thing." He looked at her, who was just attentively listening to him. Hyejin told him to be himself so he'd risk it. It was only fair after having learned such intimate secrets. “You’d find equally promiscuous women here, they probably just hide it more.”

She pursed her lips, intrigued by his words, but they were interrupted by a waiter with champagne flutes. She took one with a small head bow.

“Besides, if I understood correctly, you’re not that promiscuous.” He pressed his lips, was he really going to talk about this? “Something about having standards…”

She laughed and his dimples appeared. He was flustered and hot, but it was pleasing to speak with someone so earnestly.

“So you did understand everything!” She didn't look mad, she was grinning and sounded playful. “Can you tell that to Hyejin, though? I have a feeling she wants to ‘help me’ somehow when she doesn’t seem to understand the situation.”

His eyebrows puckered, “How does she plan on helping?”

“Something about a guy babysitting me tonight,” she shrugged. “I’m sure she means well, but it’s not how these things work. Although I must admit I’d be bored out of my mind if you weren’t here.”

“How so?” He laughed to take away from his embarrassment, realizing immediately he was the 'babysitter'. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d keep that conversation private and now I’m pleasantly surprised that not only are you fluent in English, but you can actually have a conversation. I don’t see a way to be bored now.” He nodded with his warm cheeks marked by his dimples. “And with a bit of luck, I can escape the so-called babysitter. I'm not sure I trust Hyejin's taste in men to meet my standards.”

He tried laughing but it came out dry. Did he understand it right? Hyejin had implied to Angie that they'd… and she didn't trust Hyejin to choose someone, but it was him so—

“Do you want some tiramisu?” She interrupted his thoughts after downing her champagne. He looked at her, confused, and she pointed at the walking dinner on the tables at the other end of the room. “I’m starving.”

He nodded and went with her, grabbing not only tiramisu but also other small bites. He made a judgment call then to keep his mouth shut about being the person Hyejin had chosen to 'babysit' her. That way Angie wouldn't feel imposed on and they could keep chatting amicably.

They went back to the table with their food and continued chatting. Some of the BTS members noticed this.

“Wow, Joon made a friend,” Taehyung pointed out from the dancefloor in surprise.

Jimin turned and gasped dramatically, “Really?! Let’s go meet her—”

Hoseok stopped them both by getting in their way. “Oh no, you don’t. Let him be.”

“But he made a friend, I want to know her too,” Taehyung pouted playfully.

“Guys, he’s talking to a girl,” Hoseok repeated, playing with his eyebrows.

“He talks with girls all the time,” Taehyung pointed out, confused.

“Ohhhh, I see what you mean,” Jimin smirked with a nod.

“What?”

“It’s a wedding weekend, people do crazy things,” Hoseok smiled intently at Taehyung.

“So? Are you implying that our Joonie will sleep with that girl?”

“Joonie will sleep with a girl?!” Jungkook’s shocked gasp came from behind Taehyung and Jimin quickly hushed him.

“Shh, we don’t know that,” he told him, making Jungkook truly puzzled. Why was Jimin shushing him, the music was so loud!

“But he’s so shy, there’s no way—”

“Let’s give him the opportunity,” Hoseok interrupted Taehyung.

“It won’t hurt,” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook pouted his lips, “It will if she hurts him.”

The other three men shook their heads with a smile. “He’s old enough, let him decide that for himself,” Hoseok pointed out, and the other three agreed.

Namjoon was truly intrigued to be talking with Angie about women's emancipation and the feminine movement. It was a topic he had sought to educate himself about but that he rarely got to talk about. He was interested in learning the perspective of a woman, or should he say a Western woman.

“The thing is that it’s not because I believe in equality that I don’t like things like chivalry or an actual man,” she pointed out with a short deep breath that contained her frustration. “In what dating is concerned, I would like a partner that doesn’t fall into extremes and I feel that’s happening more and more.”

“What kind of extremes?”

“Like the woman is always right and can do no wrong, or women are bitches that don’t accept men for who they are. I’ve seen both, I hate both,” she pointed out cleanly, then shrugged.

“That really happens?” He asked, surprised while they ate.

“Oh yeah. You try to date for a few months and it just becomes insufferable,” she chuckled, but he could see there was an inch of bitterness. “I truly just want a partner, an equal partner. I believe this to be a good standard, but then none of my friends understand why it’s so hard.”

He nodded, he sort of understood her. He didn’t hope to find someone who could stand by his side easily, and he wasn’t eager to put anyone through that, but if he could choose, he’d prefer to have someone by his side, not beneath or above.

“Like my friends say I expect too much, that I should just date a genius from work.” Her tone was despairing yet scornful. “And it’s precisely why I’ll never ever date any of them. I mean, I know I’m smarter than most, but I don’t want a genius by my side. I don't consider myself a genius, despite popular belief.”

He was looking at her with wide and intrigued eyes. He opened his mouth, then backtracked — there was so much information to unpack there he wasn’t sure about what to ask first.

“Look and behold, Mr. Namjoon,” she opened her arms with a cocky smile as if presenting herself. “You’re talking with the youngest professor of Quantum Physics at MIT.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more, “Really? Wow!”

She chuckled, closing her arms again and finally reaching for the tiramisu. “I know, I get that a lot. I'm surrounded by people who are pure geniuses in every sense of the word but lack everything else required for socialization. And me being a woman in the middle of men should sound fun, but it really isn’t.” She sighed, with a spoon of dessert in her mouth. She didn’t look very happy. “Everyone thinks I'm at a buffet, when in reality I wish I could go to a Michelin-star restaurant and have that one gourmet meal.”

She was expecting him to laugh at her analogy, but he nodded with a small smile that overflowed with sympathy.

“I get you… I sometimes feel like the Michelin-star meal, only I’m behind a glass and I can’t interact with anyone.”

She raised an eyebrow, “You consider yourself a Michelin-star meal?”

Her tone was playful but he choked on his spit, blushing a strong shade of red. “That’s a way of speaking,” he tried saying through coughs.

She giggled and tapped his back soothingly, “I’m messing with you.” She waited for him to calm down before taking a deep breath, “That must suck balls.”

He laughed, a bit more relaxed. “It does, and it doesn’t. I know I inspire a lot of people, as they inspire me. That’s why I… you know, Michelin meal—” She was looking at him with a mocking smile, so he coughed to clear his throat. “Anyway. It’s lonely.”

“What do you do?” She asked, cleaning her tiramisu cup with her spoon.

His eyebrows twitched for a second. She didn’t know? She was friends with Hyejin and she didn’t know? Should he not tell her? But she surely knew who he was to Hyejin, so should he tell her?

He licked his lips. Be yourself.

“I’m a music producer.”

She whistled, “Like Hyejin’s fiancé, then?” He nodded. “Right, you must work with her father. I keep forgetting that she comes from a music background.” She laughed to herself. “But anyway, lonely? How can that be?” Her pitch was high again and playful. “I imagine you have at least one girl every day trying to make a move on you to fall in your good graces and get that record deal.”

He laughed awkwardly, “I don’t and I would hate it if I did.”

“Because you’re not into women?”

“Because I’m shy,” he answered quickly and seriously, looking into her eyes.

Her features slowly lost their teasing glim and sobered. “I wonder about that… you’re talking pretty okay with me.”

He nodded, “There are… reasons for that.”

“Such as?”

“You’re Hyejin’s friend and you don’t want a music deal.”

She laughed giddily, “How do you know? Maybe this is just us scheming or something.”

He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, “She could get you something just as easily as I could.”

Angie hummed playfully and leaned into him, and he didn’t move away. “But maybe I'd prefer to be associated with the genius Kim Namjoon?”

He held her eyes with a raised eyebrow. He felt hot and proud at her words, which was unusual for him. Normally, he’d be the first to say he wasn’t that big of a deal, he wasn’t that great. He was truly nobody. As the seconds ticked, this truth came to light in his mind. He had to be truthful with her.

“I’m really not that great.” She tilted her head with a smile of who wonders about that. “I’m just a poet,” he added. He tried ignoring the burn on his cheeks, why was that happening? Maybe even that was untrue? “I… I just appreciate art. In all its forms. And try to do something with my thoughts. That’s it.”

He quickly reached for a sip of his whiskey, and then took a deep breath. He felt like he was stammering or vomiting his thoughts without reflection, what the hell was he doing? Why was he oscillating between being relaxed and so freaking nervous?

She smiled warmly, “I’m just teasing you.” She straightened herself and he felt weirdly upset at being able to breathe freely again. “So art. What’s your favorite kind of art? Excluding poetry and music?”

“It’s very difficult to choose,” he confessed. He looked at the table for a moment of absolute focus before answering. “I feel like right after hearing, my eyes are the next sense I rely on. So I’m inclined to say anything visual. Anything that invokes things in me that reflect deep thoughts.”

“Interesting,” she said, creasing her forehead a bit. “Would you say it helps with your music?”

“It definitely does,” he agreed instantaneously. “It has helped me a lot to see my struggles reflected and shaped by the hands of so many artists. To see it given color or texture through other means than sounds, or words.” He smiled, “I could never do it, but I recognize it because our struggle is the same, it’s human. It’s very freeing in a way.”

Angie smiled softly. She was now totally focused on the man in front of her, sitting turned to him and supporting her head on her hand.

“I wish I knew more about art,” she confessed. His eyes locked with hers for a moment before he looked away with a smile. He was shy, she could see that. But he was also very intriguing, definitely the best kind of surprise that night or trip could offer her. She wondered if he understood what she meant to imply with her words.

“It’s an infinite subject. Even I am still learning about it after years of interest,” his smile was kind. He licked his lips and looked at her again, “I could show you a few things.”

Her lips curved immediately, “I’d like that.”

And he pressed his, looking away again. “I went to Europe once to do a tour around many museums.” He turned to her with a smile, “I was in Switzerland for a few days and visited so many exhibitions, then Paris too. I can show you pictures if you’d like.”

She smiled, “That sounds nice. I would have loved to see it myself.”

He sighed, “Yeah. I couldn’t see everything I wanted, I didn’t have the time. I wish I could just go and spend a month or two there, really take in the places. The cultures, they’re so close to each other, but they’re so different. I hiked Mount Rigi last time, but there’s still so much to see in the Swiss Alps, and also in other countries.”

He was so invested in sharing his thoughts his eyes were shining. They were close now and he didn’t mind, quite the opposite. He was normally quiet with his entourage about such things, but with her, he felt accepted. She wasn’t scorning or being derisive, she was drinking his words out of interest for new things.

“You should go and do it. Take time off, pause, and do what you truly want to do.” Her tone was serious. “Life is short. Everyone always told me I’d have to fight tooth and nail to get somewhere, and that I’d get there in my old age. Well, I’m nearly thirty and I feel like I’ve reached that place already. And it sucks,” she shrugged in sorrow, reaching for her drink. “It should feel fulfilling, but it’s empty. I look behind me and see what I’ve missed, what I sacrificed. I realize I’ve won the race, but there’s really nothing to celebrate. And for as much as I may have gained, I became fearful of heights. Because now that everyone knows my potential, everyone would be disappointed if I didn’t meet the quota for just one day. And then… the real loneliness would start.”

A hint of sorrow passed through her features quickly before she downed another champagne flute, and he just nodded solemnly.

“There must be something to celebrate. Though… the responsibilities… they follow us,” he said quietly. “Even if I wanted to pause and go, it’s just not possible.”

“I’m telling you it has to be, Namjoon.” Her eyes were shining, but she didn’t hide them away. “There has to be more to life than grinding, burning out, and chasing the idea of success.” She put her glass down, “I keep convincing myself that this is what I wanted, that it was an opportunity all along, that I’m doing something great with myself, but am I?” She seemed to contain her tears of frustration. “I mean sure, there is an importance to what I’m doing. to what we’re doing. I’m teaching and shaping young minds, and I’m involved in projects that will advance our technology and understanding of the universe significantly. You’re doing music people love and inspiring them, like you said. Surely, all of it has meaning. But then why do I feel spent?”

She looked away with an anxious breath and her eyes fell on Hyejin laughing at the entrance of the party. That was what happiness looked like.

Her eyes turned back at him and his serious expression. She chuckled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with my existential conundrums.”

“Not at all, I feel like… we’re different, but similar in many ways.”

She looked at him and they stayed in silence for a moment. The party and music were developing all around them while they found some sort of empathy in each other’s existence.

“Maybe,” she acceded, with softening eyes. Her lips curved gently, “It’s not every day I get to talk about this.”

He was going to ask why but he never did.

“Ahh!” A yell sounded from behind them that had them both turn. The beautiful and glowing Hyejin placed her hands on their shoulders with a smile that could rival the sun. “I’m so happy you found each other!” Namjoon smiled politely, but Angie was furrowing her brow quizzically. Hyejin squeezed her shoulder, “See, I told you you would like him.”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, but Hyejin spoke first. “Well, I know you didn’t want a ‘babysitter’, but I chose the best as your company.”

Angie’s eyebrows jumped as her features changed just a little. She smiled with a hint of bitterness, “Indeed.”

Angie cursed herself mentally as she tried not to give her thoughts away. She should have figured the ‘babysitter’ would be the same guy who eavesdropped, though she had thought more than one of her friends would speak English fluently, hence they could have been different people. Honestly, she just wanted to make sure he’d stay quiet about what he heard, but maybe the fact that he was cute and interesting clouded her judgment. Maybe she did have unattainable standards, she didn’t seem to be that bright herself if she was going to let something so simple happen right under her nose.

Her eyes shifted from Hyejin when she was called away to Namjoon, who was looking worried. That was guilt, wasn’t it? He knew about it, he just played dumb. He could have told her he was the guy Hyejin wanted her to meet, but he decided not to probably because he wasn’t interested and didn’t want to embarrass her. Well. She still was.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Hyejin smiled, seeing she couldn’t avoid whatever problem was calling for her.

As soon as she left, Angie dragged her chair back as Namjoon spoke. “I can explain.”

“A bit too late for that,” her voice was stoic as she got up. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She turned to leave without a second thought. That was freaking embarrassing, and utterly disappointing. Maybe she got too tipsy and confident? Maybe. Either way, she never had to speak with him again, so—

“Wait.”

She glanced at him, surprised he had followed her out of the party to the elevator lobby of the hotel, but she didn’t stop. She pressed the button to call the elevator.

And he stopped next to her, “Wait.” He swallowed, and she finally glanced at him. She was showing no emotions on her face and it twisted his stomach even more. “I didn’t know what to say. The way you spoke of it made me feel like it was something bad.”

“Bad?” She knew she wasn’t tipsy, she just had to respond to such a silly idea. “I told you I would never be bored with you, how is that bad?”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to pressure you. That’s why I chose to be the other guy. I wanted to be the guy you chose to come and find and chat with, not the one Hyejin asked to babysit you and that you didn’t want to meet.”

She stepped inside the elevator, pressed floor seven, and then looked at him. She looked confused and hurt and he just stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I guess you’re neither now.”

The elevator doors started closing and he felt a rush. Time slowed, he had a decision to make. He never got to be with someone who understood him. He was always afraid of the backstabbing and image issues, everyone was watching, and it was too risky to do anything. Everything relating to dating had been relegated to the last spot on his priority list, the furthest corner of his mind and heart. But right there he could reach for something that resembled what he always wished he could experience.

So he stepped inside at the last second, squeezing through the doors. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“But I could be both,” he finally said.

The elevator started moving and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. He tried not to feel disheartened. For the first time, she was looking incredibly cold and unapproachable, and it saddened him.

“Explain.”

Despite her detached tone, he felt alive. “I could be the guy you came to find and that stuck around you because you’re interesting and captivating.”

Her lips twitched in skepticism, “You don’t have to work that hard, Mr. Kim Namjoon. I know Hyejin told you to look after me, but I’m going to my room where I’ll be perfectly safe by myself.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m speaking the truth.”

“Are you? You haven’t exactly been the most truthful.”

He pressed his lips and looked down — that hit him. Hyejin had told him to be himself and lying was not something he ever did. Being dishonest was not like him, and it felt off.

Angie exited the elevator without another word and Namjoon followed her all the way until she reached for a card to unlock her room door.

“Then let me,” he asked. She entered her room. “Let me be truthful.”

She stopped and turned to him. She was holding the doorknob in her hand and the doorway was the line separating them. She considered his words for a moment, then nodded. It couldn’t hurt to hear him out, she already felt humiliated as it was.

“I’m not just a producer,” he said, and she frowned very lightly. He was sure then she truly didn’t know who he was. “I’m an idol. Do you know what that is?”

“People that sing and dance and are idolized by teenagers?” She seemed confused.

He grimaced, “You get the gist.” He sighed, “We are very well known, so our lives are scrutinized and it gets lonely.”

She shifted the weight on her legs, “So that’s why you’re here? Because you’re lonely?”

He let out a tense breath. “I’m here because you are enticing. Your words, your mind. You’re so captivating I could just talk to you all night to learn your ideas about everything the world has to offer.”

“You want to chat?”

He opened his mouth, unsure about what to say. She removed her high heels and threw them inside, then heaved a deep breath.

“I don’t know what to think of you right now.” She admitted, then shrugged. “I figured you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to give me the impression you were interested in that way, and that’s fine. But then why follow me here?” He became flustered, and she just shook her head. “You’re worried about me complaining to Hyejin? I won’t. Are you feeling guilty? You’re forgiven. Let’s just forget about all of this—”

“That’s not it,” he managed to get out.

“Then what is it?”

He opened his mouth and fought his words multiple times until he just let go. “I don’t want it to end.”

“What?”

“Our talk. Our interaction. You said you didn’t get to talk about these things, well, I don’t either. And it’s so much more interesting because you’re not a musician or an artist, and yet we feel things in the same way,” he closed his fist as if he could grab the moment, then threw it down. Was he conveying the message properly? “What I mean is that there’s a potential for a unique connection, for a unique moment. I want to seize it, just like I want to go to Europe and hike the Swiss Alps. Like you said I should. Just pause and do what I really want to do.”

She observed him in silence for a moment as she went over what he said.

“But why didn’t you tell me before? You could have just said it.”

His cheeks warmed up, “You seemed to imply that Hyejin chose someone to… to sleep with you. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I thought it would be best not to mention it.”

Her eyebrows puckered in confusion, “But whatever reason Hyejin uses to choose you has nothing to do with you, you could have still just said it.”

He smiled and rubbed his face, he was embarrassed but sort of happy. “You’re right, I should have.”

She wasn’t smiling. “All of this just because you don’t want to sleep with someone; just say it next time and avoid the trouble.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she groaned mutely. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“No, that’s not it.”

She raised an impatient eyebrow, “I got it wrong again?”

“Yes,” he said confidently, which intrigued her.

“Explain it to me then.”

“I never said I didn’t want to sleep with you.” He didn’t know where he got the courage to say those words, but maybe it was because he didn’t want any more misunderstandings. Her eyebrows jumped. “I said I didn’t want to pressure you, I said I didn’t want our talk to end, I said I followed you because you’re enticing. I said I didn’t want to scare you away. I didn’t want you to think anything we were doing was coming from a place of 'she's just promiscuous and we'll sleep together anyway'.”

Her lips twitched as she tried to deduce something. “Then…”

“I wanted it to just be genuine,” he shrugged. “If you were interested and I was interested, then cool.”

“Are you interested?”

He smiled despite looking at the floor, “I followed you all the way here, didn’t I?”

She blinked as her features morphed into surprise and realization. “You did.”

He gave her a moment before asking, “Are you? Interested?”

She finished her line of thought in which she decided she no longer had reasons to feel embarrassed. His lie had come from a good place, and although she disliked feeling deceived, she was willing to forgive him.

“I am.”

They stared at each other with a lighter atmosphere. He felt warm and sort of happy, but he didn't want to push anything. He was happy they sorted things out. It didn’t feel awkward or anything, he just didn’t feel any need to rush it.

“That’s… that’s good,” he smiled. “Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming in?” She asked almost in surprise. He was confused and she turned around to enter the room. “Only if you want to, of course.”

She dropped her handbag on a chair and turned to see him still in the same place. He had his hands on the doorframe as if stopping himself, and she just raised her eyebrows. He looked down, but dropped his hands and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.

She smiled, “I’d offer you a drink,” she opened the mini-fridge. “But I don’t want us to get drunk.”

He was smiling too, he felt lightheaded. “That’s okay.”

“How about a coke?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, accepting it from her.

She also opened a can and sat on the bed with her legs bent by her knees.

"Didn't you have something to show me?" She asked, then took a sip. He just stared at her. "Photos of your trip?"

"Right!"

He pulled his phone out of his slack pocket and sat next to her. She leaned in to check his phone, but her eyes quickly moved to what risked captivating her more than any work of art he could show her. That tight dark blue suit made his shoulders look broad and firm. He was taller than her, even in heels, and he looked pristine and lean under all that haute couture. She could of course appreciate a man that could talk well and look good, but to find a devoted artist and poet under all that was… like straight out of movies or novels.

She nodded and listened to his explanations about the art pieces and exhibitions attentively. He was light and free when speaking of such things, and she could not see an idol or famous person. He was too real, too grounded, too connected with his inner self to appear shallow and superficial. She didn’t have enough of that in her life, she was always with people who were analytical, cynical, and skeptical, much like she was. That fresh outlook on life, on a human’s soul, on feeling was so touching she wanted to interact with him just to know what it was like.

He was explaining this painting of a fallen angel and the catharsis and redemption themes in it when she got up from bed to put their empty cans away.

“What do they say? To be able to fly you have to learn how to fall?”

He eyed her from head to toe, with her back turned to him, and nodded quietly. He never thought a physics genius could be so empathetic and understanding. She had a caring soul that transpired in every single comment, even when she was rational about the themes he was trying to explain. He felt like she could be an anchor, a defined line around his countless smudges of color. He should feel contained, maybe underestimated, but instead, he felt elevated. He felt like they were mutually showing the other how they perceived life, and it was incredibly unique. He knew that could happen after a few minutes with her, but now after maybe more than one hour, he was completely certain.

“It’s getting late,” she commented and he nodded, putting his phone down.

“You’re right, we need to get some sleep for the actual wedding tomorrow,” he got up with a gentle smile.

“Would you help me with my hair?” She asked, then turned around. “They put so many pins in, could you take them off?”

“Sure,” he immediately acquiesced, throwing his phone on the bed and nearing her. But then he pressed his lips, eying the braided hairdo. “I’m afraid I might hurt you.”

“You won't, don’t worry about it. You should be able to see them pretty well.”

He was still eying her hair nervously, but it was true he could see the black hairpins among her blonde threads. So he risked it and reached for the first one very slowly. He gained more confidence as time passed and they had a few giggles when a few proved too stubborn to come out on the first try.

Then suddenly her braid fell over her back and his smile dropped. He was incredibly close to her, he could smell her orchid perfume perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and delicate, the line of her neck was a feminine invitation. Her hair was beautiful and soft and now he didn’t have an excuse to touch it anymore.

She pulled her braid over her shoulder to open it and pass her fingers through it quickly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Their voices were both low and warm as they eyed each other. She was wondering what she could do to give him a hint, whereas he was fighting his urges. He shouldn’t go too fast and she hadn’t expressed clear consent, so—

She suddenly grimaced and pressed her neck, and he spoke without thinking, “Are you tense?”

She nodded but immediately closed her eyes, her senses overcharged. His fingers were pressing and gently massaging her tired muscles, first on her neck, then her shoulders and spine. Her lips parted in absolute satisfaction at his dexterous hands, could he get any better?

Eventually, his fingers slowed in rhythm and stopped and she turned her head to the side, “Don’t stop.”

Her tone was low and pleading and he looked at her profile with his hands still on her delicate shoulders. She was truly beautiful, like a nymph out of a painting from the masters. He was inevitably attracted by her elegant curves, her dainty lines echoing everything in him from desire to devotion. He felt like any of those foolish men who would wish to lose themselves in the purity and nurturing embrace of such an ethereal creature, and he had to take a deep breath to catch himself.

She turned around and their foreheads connected as he swallowed. He was heartily eager to have her despite knowing that he could lose himself and disappear, just like Hylas once had in that ancient myth.

She touched his jaw gently and leaned in slowly, and he let her. Their lips touched and brushed briefly, and his breath hitched. He was immediately curious and chased her lips so he could feel her better. Her kiss was just as delicate as her and he was filled with this want to discover more, to know more, to partake, to dive in.

His hands were supporting her neck and jaw when she pulled away just enough to speak. “Are you comfortable continuing this?”

He almost chuckled; he was sensible enough to just smile, “Yes.” His tone was sure. “Are you?”

Her hands moved over his shoulders, “Oh yes. Yes.”

She leaned to capture his lips again and he smiled through their kiss, so incredibly happy that he would have the opportunity to touch her, to kiss her.

He of course wanted more than that and as their kiss built up, he started losing his grip. Their kisses were sloppy as their tongues played, his body was spiking with heat at her hands exploring his chest and pulling his blazer off to firmly squeeze his shoulders. His hands which had been respectfully on her waist became curious and decided to palm her curves. Those sensual curves that the dress failed to express vividly enough, thankfully.

She reached for his belt and he swallowed, trying to catch his breath as she kissed his cheek. That was happening, he thought. He looked at her, whose brown eyes were shining with desire while she breathed heavily. He had one second to decide before—

Her hand entered his pants and he closed his eyes, feeling her explore his erection. She was observing his reaction; she found the right angle and pulled his hard-on out. He was utterly absorbed in the sensation of her gripping him firmly and she wondered for a split second if it was genuine. He looked like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis, and she would think this odd if he was a famous idol that millions of people desired.

His hands pushed her to sit on the bed gently. He kneeled on the bed by her side and she eyed him. That man was the reincarnation of Adonis, there was no doubt in her mind about it.

“Can I touch you?”

Her features softened, “You have to touch me.”

His hands grabbed her lilac dress that covered her legs and pulled it up anxiously. She helped him do it all the way to her waist before she leaned back with him half over her. He reached her lips as his hands traced her legs, and the higher he went the more she started losing grip. Still, before he could touch her, she reached for his erection again to pump him gently. He grunted quietly and she smiled slyly, incredibly proud that she could make him sound like that.

Quickly a sigh was escaping her lips when his fingers reached her center over her panties. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be able to get that and more out of her.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered against her lips, descending then to her neck.

Her hand on his erection was making it hard to process, but his fingers quickly pulled her panties aside to feel her and damn. She was so wet and ready that his cock twitched. She moaned quietly with his touch exploring her folds and core, and he felt it in her neck as he kissed it. She would surely make the most beautiful music for him if he played her correctly, and he intended to.

His fingers reached her clit to rub it gently and she gasped, completely frozen by it. He pulled away enough to observe her expression with agape lips, squinted eyes, and knitted eyebrows.

“Like that?” He asked, his voice tense.

She looked up at him, an expression of pleasure so sensual he had a hard time thinking.

“Yeah,” she sighed and restarted moving her hand.

His fingers were too fucking good, or maybe she was just that turned on. Her core was clenching around nothing despite the simple gesture of his digits, but she knew it was more than that. He was an attractive and attentive man observing her through desirous but respectful eyes. Like she was worthy of his praise, attention, and care, and that adoration was really spiking it up for her.

So she tried making it last by focusing on her hand on his erection. It had been a while since she had last done that, but what mattered was reading his cues. He preferred a firm grip instead of light, he preferred the tip instead of broad all-encompassing movements, and he preferred slower and intense movements rather than fast and light. Soon he grunted and she smiled yet again.

“That feels very good,” he managed to get out with closed eyes.

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

They had reached a balance and they could see it in each other’s eyes. So when her lips curved in a playful smile, so did his.

Then he grunted mutely at the view of his hand between her legs. He was imagining what she would feel like, but there was nothing better than finding out. His fingers slipped in and she moaned.

“You’re so tight and warm,” his voice strained at the thought of replacing his fingers with his twitching cock.

She was pulsating around his fingers, “Imagine how comfortable you’d be… inside me.”

He looked at her, and she was already eying him back. Her expression tensed when he reached his thumb over her clit, her jaw clenched. She couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed, every single touch of his felt better than the one before and she would melt for him every time he would like her too.

Suddenly he looked down at her hand on his dick with thin lips. “Do we have condoms?”

She tried thinking rationally for a second, then cursed under her breath. “I don’t.”

She felt irritation spring from deep inside her chest, that was very stupid of her. She couldn’t have known she would meet someone interesting and get involved with him, but fuck should she be better prepared just in case she did.

She took a deep breath, “Don’t worry about it right now, we can have fun in other ways.” She smiled playfully to ease him, but quickly his fingers reached somewhere deep inside her that stole her breath. “Is that okay?”

“That’s okay…”

He was sad he wouldn’t be able to feel her all the way as he intended, but that was for the best. He was already out of his mind, excited that all of that was happening anyway.

He hardened his movements and leaned on her neck, “I want to know what you sound like.”

She tried repressing a moan, his rough movements on her were making it very challenging. “If you keep doing that you’ll find out soon enough.”

He smirked at her teasing and decided to go rougher, though not faster. He instantly knew he made the right choice because her hand on him became sloppy as if forgotten, and her legs started spreading as if to give him more space. He prioritized his thumb over her clit in wide rough circles and her waist started bucking. He pulled away to look at her and surely enough she was close to falling apart.

She looked at him through puckered eyebrows almost pleadingly and he licked his lips, wishing for nothing but the moment when it would happen. Suddenly she gasped and arched her back, then a roll of moans echoed from deep inside her throat. He fucked her with his fingers, completely absorbed by the sensual sounds her beautiful self was producing, and when she calmed down, he couldn’t contain his pride. He made her fall apart, he played her correctly and created that music through her. He felt honored and happy and extremely turned on, and she knew it because she immediately tightened her grip on his dick and hastened the movements.

“Did you like it? How I sound when I come?”

He opened his eyes which had closed momentarily to look at her pink cheeks and shiny eyes. She looked satisfied and hungry at the same time. His lips pulled — nymph was the right word for her.

“Definitely, yes,” he groaned quietly.

“I know you did,” she smiled and looked down. He was covered with precum, it was the perfect lube for her hand. “Have you wondered what I taste like?”

He blinked, his brain freezing for a second, and then he moved the hand covered in her slick still in her core. He could find out.

But she quickly stopped him, “No.” His hand stopped, though his mouth was open and waiting. “Not yet, you can find out after.”

“After?”

“After.”

Then she reached for his glistening hand and guided it to her mouth. She licked his wet fingers and sucked on them all while she kept pumping him.

He groaned. “Is it good?” He asked, completely beside himself.

She chuckled, “You’ll find out in a minute.”

“I will?”

She smiled teasingly, still playing with his fingers and her tongue. “If I’m lucky.”

He groaned through a smile; he wanted to lick her and find out. He wanted to discover everything tonight.

“Where do I come?”

She smiled, “Make my hands messy.”

He looked down at her hands on him, on his tip and base working on him perfectly, then at her body, her lean legs, female curves, the line of her chest in between her modest cleavage, and then at his hand on her chin, now fully cleaned as she looked at him with hunger. He felt a prickle of embarrassment, she was looking at him making faces, but she looked absolutely invested. He dared think she was really into him, that a beautiful nymph like her would look at him twice and be interested in his pleasure, and that pushed him over. The thought of being with her and her wanting to be with him was enough to make him grunt deeply and pop. He grabbed her hands around him so he could slide in them pleasurably as his warm cum collected there and dripped on the sheets.

When he finished, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He didn’t see her smile, nor was he bothered when she got up and went to wash her hands in the bathroom, he just sighed. That felt good, being there was good. He craved that satisfaction though he very rarely attained it. He sighed again.

She came back and laid on the bed again, prompting him to do the same. Their breaths were normal now, but whereas he was still processing, she was smiling playfully.

“Not having condoms sucks,” she puffed and he nodded. “But we can still have fun.”

He adjusted the pillow under him, wanting so much for that to be so when he suddenly gasped.

He got up and reached for his wallet in his blazer on the floor, and opened it. It took some effort, but very safely hidden was a wrapper that he waved victoriously.

She grinned, “Good job! That’s a nice party trick.”

He smiled in embarrassment, “I didn’t even remember about it, it’s been there since—” His voice died when he turned the wrapper around, and then he closed his eyes.

“What?” She asked, curious. She sat up and took it from him since he wasn’t reacting, and when she saw it, she fell on the bed and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t!”

He was blushing in embarrassment, “It’s really been there for years, I don’t even remember when I put it there…”

She was still laughing, “Clearly! I mean, how long do condoms stay good? Five years?”

He tried taking it from her by leaning on her, “Well, we don’t have to use it, forget I—”

She hid it between her hand and her chest and raised her eyebrows, “Are you joking? Using an expired one is better than nothing, we’re using it.” Her voice was so firm he stopped in his tracks. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I want to,” he breathed immediately, eying her under him. He didn’t even realize he was shamelessly admitting to wanting her that badly, he was just enamored by the sight of her smiling teasingly.

“Then we have that to look forward to,” she smiled, putting it aside on the bed before raising her hands to feel his torso through his shirt. “How tired are you?”

“Not tired,” he murmured.

She grinned and her hands reached his back, “How fast do you recover?”

His cheeks warmed up wildly, “I… it depends…”

“Tonight. How much can I hope to have from you?”

Her hands on him mixed with her words were making him hot and unable to think. “I don’t know, it’s been a while since I… needed to perform like that.”

Her smile softened, “Let's find out together then. For now… I want to strip you.” His eyes roamed down her lilac dress for a second before trailing back up to find her tongue between her teeth. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

She sat up, forcing him to move out of the way. Every yes of his sounded like a sigh, almost like happiness or relief for her having taken the initiative. She had no problems with that, but she would love it if he would relax. Maybe he would as they got comfortable.

Being naked always meant a significant amount of vulnerability and they were both aware of that. They kissed slowly while comfortably sitting in bed as they helped each other take off each piece of clothing at their own rhythm. He took most of his off first, starting with his waistcoat, shirt, inner tee shirt, then his slacks but not without getting rid of his shoes and socks first. She giggled when he made his shoes flip in the air with how fast he tried taking them off, and he smiled at her. He laid back down in bed and traced her uncovered legs. She still had her dress on and he pecked her cheek almost reverently before asking, “Where’s the zipper?”

She smiled, he was so cute. “On the back.”

She got up from the bed and turned her back so he could take care of pulling the zipper all the way down. He traced her back skin softly as he guided the strips to fall from her shoulders, then contoured the bands of her bra.

“Can I take it off?”

“I was hoping you would.”

He unhooked the hook quickly and traced her skin again slowly, this time leaning in to nuzzle it softly as he pulled everything off. She felt goosebumps all over, a wave of warmth invading her as she forgot how to breathe. He was so delicate and reverent that she felt like the most precious person he ever touched, and she was into that. It turned her on like crazy to be treated adoringly and he was hitting all the right keys.

She turned to him so he could push her strapless bra off and fully lay her bare, and he didn’t disappoint. He gently pulled it off along with the dress that fell to the floor, and his eyes roamed her body hungrily. She was so beautiful and elegant that he was totally hypnotized.

He didn’t ask for permission and just dove for her chest, lowering himself to reach those wonderful perky nipples and take one in his mouth and another in his hand. He truly didn’t know how long his body would take to react or how he would perform, but he was happy that just seeing her naked immediately pumped him up. He sat on the bed and pulled her by the waist to continue the ministrations of his tongue, lips, and teeth on her chest while she moaned breathlessly and petted his hair. His hands lowered to the small of her back, then to her ass and he squeezed, feeling his hard dick throb inside his trunks. That was the finest offering he could ever have had and he wanted it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her in between switching nipples in his mouth, with wet traces and suckling sounds. His hands squeezed her asscheeks again, making her moan. “So beautiful. I need to have you,” he admitted, tracing his hands to pull her panties down.

His lips descended to her stomach before his hands pulled her to support her knees on either side of him. Suddenly, though, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her so he could lay her in bed under him. She giggled when her hair splayed over the bed and she looked down at him.

“It looks like you’re ready again,” she pointed out.

He didn’t need to look at the tent in his trunks. “I am, but I want to taste you first.”

Her lips pulled in amusement as he leaned to trail down her body with kisses, focusing on her mound and inner thighs to her delight. She was trembling involuntarily when his lips brushed hers and she squirmed in both want and shyness. He licked her across her slit, taking in her flavor, then he chuckled, unsurprised.

“Of course, you’d be delicious too,” he muttered before getting down to business.

Angie moaned breathlessly and more and more as his tongue circled her clit. Her eyes were closed as she gripped the sheets, so completely focused on what he was doing. She cursed herself for having had one orgasm already because that would make it harder right now for him. He didn’t look like he wanted to give up, but she didn’t want to tire him.

“You’re so sexy,” he still encouraged her, which invariably kept on melting her. “Make that sound again,” he asked as he suckled on her clit.

She did the sound he wanted but gritted her teeth. She was needy. “I want you,” she asked, as soon as she could breathe.

He smiled with glistening lips as he used two fingers to feel her tightness. “That’s a good idea… I was hoping to make you come first, though…”

God, he was so freaking adorable she couldn’t handle it. “Give me a second.”

She reached to stop his hand and gently move him away, and he let her. She got up and reached for something in her bag — a black cloth bag. She grabbed it and then threw it on the bed.

“What’s this?” Namjoon reached to grab it and immediately figured it out. “Oh, I see.”

She hopped on the bed next to him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she pleaded, suddenly worried. He looked let down despite his smile. “You’ll get me there, but since I already had an orgasm, you’ll probably lose the ability to move your jaw and you might need it tomorrow.” He chuckled at the way she put it and she felt confident in touching him again. “You were doing it wonderfully though,” she smiled, looking down. “And I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He pressed his lips, “That’s— Only if you want to, you don’t have to.”

She smiled and reached for the vibrator, “You in my mouth will be the exact thing to make me come. So will you?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Would you… let me blow you while I pleasure myself?” He raised his eyebrows further in surprise. “I mean, you can of course control the toy if you want, I just mean… that would turn me on and push me to come.”

“I can use my fingers,” he seemed to think out loud.

She tilted her head, “You can if you think you can focus on two things at once.”

“Fair point,” he chuckled again. “Multitasking is not my thing.”

She bit her lip, “Actually, if you would be into it, you could fuck my mouth.” His mouth opened. “I mean, you know, only if you’re into that.”

“I’m into that, I…” he rubbed his face to clear out his surprise. “You just keep on surprising me.”

“In a bad way?” She asked, fearful.

“No, in a good way.” He reached for her hand, “We’re actually talking about what we want and expect before doing anything, which is great.”

She smiled, “I agree. It’s… very easy to talk to you, in fact.” She looked at their hands, then at the tent in his trunks. “And it doesn’t kill your mood, which is so refreshing,” she admitted. “I love it when I can communicate what I want and like without feeling like everything is ruined.”

He chuckled, “You almost got me… but you want to include me, so that’s okay.”

“What do you mean? Almost killed your mood?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged, “When the girl you’re with seems to prefer a toy to you, I mean…”

“Wow, are you crazy?” She jumped to her knees. “I’m freaking done with toys, so done,” her tone was laced with exasperation and he smirked. She was getting on his lap and he supported her waist to sit there. “I’m one hundred percent into you,” she underlined her words softly, lacing them with want.

Now straddling his lap, they were close and personal. She grabbed his erection through the cloth to position it so it would rub on her nicely as she moved her hips. She had to lean back and support herself on her other hand, making her a sinful view.

He was supporting her waist while eating her with his eyes and drinking her soft moans before she sat back up. He then dove on her chest again, ravishing the flesh in range of his mouth while she moved her waist to grind his cock so slowly and gently, but enough to help him draw those lustful moans out of her.

She gripped his hair, “Did you feel how wet I was?” He hummed while flicking his tongue on her nipple. “Then you know how much you turn me on.”

The more she moved her hips, the crazier she became with the thought of that hard cock inside her. His mouth on her chest was not making it easier.

“Fuck, I want to ride you.”

He hummed, “You want a lot of things.”

She giggled, “I do, it’s all your fault.” She bit her lip strongly and then decided to push him to lay back on the bed with her over him. “Take some responsibility, Namjoon.”

He smiled, “I will. Tell me what you want.”

She was lying completely on him and straddling his cock now felt even better. She moaned over his lips, “Stay like that and let me ride you until I come on your cock.”

He groped her hips to help her move, “That sounds doable.”

She grinned, then reached for the condom. “I hope you can resist because it’s up to you how much we can get done.”

He chuckled, “You’re giving me too much responsibility.”

“I know, I’ll try my best to make it easy for you,” she sassily said, getting off him. He removed his trunks so she could cover him with the condom. “Feel free to tell me if I feel so good you’ll burst,” she added with a sly smile, before moving onto his lap again.

“You’re very confident,” he teased, supporting her on top of him again.

She leaned on him and aimed his cock inside her, “Oh, I am.” She made it a point to take him in slowly and in stages all while nuzzling his nose and seeing his reactions. His lips were agape and eyes closed, and with every inch, his nails sank on her hips. “How long has it been since you felt a tight cunt around you?” He was trying not to groan and it rilled her up. “All dripping just waiting for you to force yourself in?” Her voice was taunting, but laced with lust. “When was the last time you had a woman like me riding your hard cock?”

He bottomed out and she could feel him twitching inside her, which had her taking deep breaths to stay calm. The fact that she was the person getting to fuck him egged her on. That sexy, interesting, and sensible guy was a treasure that she was more than willing to have.

“I can’t recall,” he admitted, panting. “But I certainly never had one with a mouth as sassy as yours.”

She giggled as he smiled. She nuzzled his nose, “I gave you a chance to fuck this sassy mouth.”

“It’s still in my plans,” he admitted, finally looking at her.

“Perfect. Now let me milk you right,” she whispered sensually before adjusting her angle to move.

He was so deep inside her that by controlling her hips reaching an orgasm would be a piece of cake. That dirty talk with him had totally turned her on and him stretching her where it counted was taking her there.

“You feel so good,” he let out, still gripping her hips as if ready to stop her at any moment.

“I know,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “How lucky are you that I’m riding you right now?”

“Very lucky,” he breathed.

“Very fucking lucky indeed,” she groaned, biting his cheek softly. “Will you give me your cum?”

“Oh yes.”

She cursed, grinding her clit in an angle that would get her there before she fell apart in moans over his mouth. He focused on feeling her around him, taking deep breaths to take in that sensation without letting it unfocus him. Then he hugged her body and kissed her when she searched for his lips. She was blushing and glowing and it filled him with pride to see her smile.

“See how into you I am?”

He chuckled and stayed calmly in place, letting her recover from her high.

“How much would you like to fuck me right now?” She was pecking his jaw and eying him with mischief.

“A lot,” he admitted, nodding his head in confirmation.

“I do deserve it after riding you so well, no?” She nibbled on his neck and he stretched while grabbing her asscheeks.

“Oh yes, absolutely.” He couldn’t stop smiling as if he had hit a jackpot.

She bit his earlobe before sitting up and getting off him. They both noticed how absolutely covered in slick he was, and then she got all fours.

“Show me how much I deserve it,” she asked sensually, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder. He sat up and touched her hanging boobs. “Hmm, show me how much you appreciate being able to fuck me.”

He leaned to kiss her as he groped her breasts, making her puff in between their kisses, then he moved to get behind her. He groped her asscheeks, spreading them for him, and licked his lips. She looked so fucking good, like a temptation, and he wanted to bury himself balls deep.

He aimed his cock at her core and slid in quickly, grunting with the sensation. She was so tight it caused an electric wave to go up and down his spine. He moved his hips a few times and shuddered, trying to collect himself.

“Are you ready to admit I was right?”

Her tone was mocking, but he only grunted, “I can admit that you deserve a nice pounding.”

She chuckled at the way his voice was tense and his nails sank on her hips. “If you want to spank me, you can.”

He leaned in and kissed her back with a smile on his lips, “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Aren’t you very lucky?” He smacked her ass, making a thin moan escape her throat. “Does it change anything?” He eyed her as he fucked her slowly. “Does it change the fact that you’re dying to fuck my tight cunt?” He smacked her again and she giggled right after a moan. “I’d love for you to mark me, don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t get you… You want to be worshiped, but you also want to be used?” He cleaned the sweat off his brow. He needed to understand to be able to decide on how to go about it.

“You might use me, but it had to be me.” She was biting her lips at the pleasure shooting from his pounding cock. “You might do whatever you want to me, but the point is that you want this pussy. Only I will make you feel this way. It will always be a form of worship.”

“You do feel very good…” he admitted, then slapped her ass again. “You take my cock very well.”

She moaned between words, “Your cock is so good… I’m fucking happy I didn’t miss out on this.”

He chuckled and leaned forward to grab her tits, fucking her so deep that her moans got to a higher pitch.

“Fuck, you’re deep.”

He groaned, “You're taking me so well…”

Too well, in fact, and he straightened back up and calmed his rhythm.

She giggled, “Too much?” He struck her asscheek so hard it echoed in the room, yet she giggled. “You’re so my type I can’t control it, I’m sorry.”

He passed his fingers over her asscheeks, “I’m your type, huh?”

She wiggled her ass as if she wanted him to move his fingers. “Cute, attentive, sexy, and smart.” He wasn’t sure where, so he moved his fingers away, but she whined. “No, touch me. You can use me, Namjoon. I talk big but I want you to fuck me so bad,” she whined, moving her hips against his for him to fuck her deeper.

He was tempted to, but first, he slid his fingers between her asscheeks, and she trembled. She incentivized him with her bucked movements until he rubbed her asshole, making her moan deeper.

“You like that?”

She moaned again and he decided to rub it at the same rhythm he fucked her. Her asshole started twitching, and when it did he felt it around his cock too. She was getting tighter and wetter and he was completely up to his limit.

“Am I milking you right?” She asked in a breathy voice.

“Yeah, I’m close. I’ll stop playing with you and fuck you now, okay?”

He didn’t see the way she paused and blinked her eyes, confused. “Wh—?”

He positioned himself better behind her and unleashed his energy. He didn’t care how or what he was doing, as long as his cock was ramming right into her every time and hitting deep. Her thin moans were uncontrollable and music to his ears. She wanted to milk him, she deserved a good fucking, and he was going to give it to her.

Her face landed on the pillow as she started losing grip and he angled deeper. She could not think with the fast pace he was entering her, and all the sloppy sounds and slaps were just the icing on top. She never got to shut her brain off, but just there that’s exactly what happened and it was bliss. Her hand darted to her clit, which was covered in her juices, and she moaned desperately for her release. She wasn't planning on it, but she was beyond being organized and structured; that kind of pleasure was not premeditated or controlled, it was imposed.

He leaned on her and was talking to her but she couldn’t really register.

“Yeah?” She finally caught him saying. “You want it? Come for me. Come on my cock with me.”

Her brain lit up like a firework popping and she moaned in a frenzy, cumming so hard he had to hold her hips in place or she would have fallen apart away from him. Her pleasure rippled and rippled until she was left a void drooling mess and it was… odd. Satisfyingly so.

He got off her and laid next to her, pulling her to fall to the sheets by his side gently. “Are you okay?” He asked with a hint of concern as he pulled her hair out of her face.

She was still panting with her mouth open, and she blinked. It took her a moment to react.

“What… What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“You— how did you—?” She opened and closed her eyes. “I’m so mind-blown right now.”

He grinned happily as they tangled their legs together. “In a good way, right?”

She was still shocked, “You— You’re good. My god, are you fucking good. That had never happened to me before.”

“What?”

“My brain shutting down like that,” she shrugged, hugging herself in bewilderment.

He scooted closer and hugged her, “It was good then.”

“It was awesome, it’s what it was.”

Her tone was so firm he just smiled, “I’m happy.”

She reached to trace his jaw with her hand. “You really are something.”

He tapped their foreheads and looked deeply into her eyes. “So are you.”

They were left sweating and calming down, but eventually, the lethargy became too much. As if on automatic pilot, she got up to pee and he took care of the condom and did the same. In minutes they both threw themselves in bed and snuggled together to sleep relaxedly.

Despite her sluggishness, Angie eventually woke up and looked around, confused. She thought it was the jetlag still messing with her after three days. She reached for her phone: 5h53. She sighed deeply and put her phone away, she could still sleep.

Then someone moved behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she closed her eyes. For a split second she thought she had dreamed of him, but that fresh, citrus, and woody scent reminded her that it was all real. She turned, still under his arm, and he leaned to unite their foreheads, still in his sleep. She looked at him with a small smile, feeling so relaxed. She didn’t know how he managed to make her like that but it was certainly something to be praised.

She closed her eyes, ready to fall back asleep, when his nose started nuzzling hers softly. She sighed and hugged him closer — she was awake, and they could do whatever he wanted. His lips fell on hers gently and she smiled at his delicateness and gentlemanly actions. They kissed slowly and softly for a while before she moved her hand to trail his torso. She was getting hotter and she felt like there was still so much of him she hadn't explored.

He seemed to get hot as well and reach for her to come closer, taking equal opportunity to touch her. She squeezed his shoulder in incentive for him to do as he pleased and couldn’t contain the moans as he did. He felt and groped her curves firmly, and when she evaded his mouth so she could breathe out a moan, he quickly caught her neck skin in between his teeth. She scratched his skin and grazed his scalp in approval and rolled with him immediately once he got on top of her.

His kisses were more demanding, but she was completely on the same wavelength. She wanted him to take her, to touch her, and handle her however he saw fit. He had earned that.

He trailed down her neck and quickly made his stop on her chest. His tongue and mouth were warm and wet and she squirmed with want, opening her legs instantly. He bit her once, twice and it only vexed her more; she was already so ready for his touch.

His fingers brushed her folds before searching for her wetness and she stopped breathing, completely focused on what was going to happen next. He was eying her attentively, feeling that shift on her chest. He removed his fingers, which made her raise an eyebrow, but his intentions immediately became clear. He gave her one last kiss before moving down so that his mouth could now reach her mound, and she trembled.

His lips brushed hers softly and increasingly with more pressure until his tongue opened her up and started licking her. She gasped for air with the way he seemed to want to lick her slit clean, knowing perfectly well that was the way to just make her even wetter. His hands grabbed her hips to stay in place when his mouth moved over her clit and he was not gentle. She writhed under him with whiny moans, she could feel his smile on her as he licked her clit deliciously.

She couldn’t stop squirming and trying to escape it while simultaneously being annoyed whenever he lost contact with her bud. She started moving her hips and her moans dragged.

“Use your lips,” she pleaded, and the sensation became less wet but firmer. “Yeah, like that.”

She was unaware of his eyes on her seeing her oscillate with her pleasure hungrily. He was trying to keep a steady pace for her, but she was making it hard.

Then she suddenly propped on her elbows, “Let me ride your mouth.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her one last kiss. She seemed to realize what she had just said while he licked his lips and sat up.

She was blushing hard, “I mean if you’re okay with that.”

He was already lying down, pushing the pillow away. “I’m more than okay with that, come here.”

She took the hand he was offering and got on her knees. She then passed a leg over him so she would sit on his belly. She was trying her hardest not to just jump on his glistening mouth, out of respect, but he incentivized her by pushing the small of her back in his direction. That along with his hand still holding hers for support just pushed her to raise and sit where she wanted to with a deep sigh.

She cursed, “Tap me if you need me to stop, okay?”

His hands felt her hips firmly before he moved so his lips could disappear under her and she gasped. He felt too fucking good, she would come in a literal minute if he kept—

She sucked in a moany breath and started bucking her hips as gently as she could. He was a fucking sin with the way he managed to suckle on her clit every time it passed his mouth, just to escape it seconds later. And yet every time she did her circular hip movement, he was right there waiting, pressing her hips down so that the rub would be as intense as possible. She was too turned on, too far off, so when his nails sank into her skin to keep her close, she only needed a few seconds to fall apart.

He licked her and mouthed her roughly as she came, keeping her core as close to his mouth as possible. She had to whine because of the overstimulation, and only then did he let go. She stumbled back, completely alienated on how to control her own body, but he had her. He quickly reached to support her back so she wouldn’t just fall and instead helped her sit back on his lap graciously.

He sat up and brushed her hair away from her red hot face, “You make the most beautiful sounds.”

She opened her glistening eyes to him and chortled, “You make me do them.”

He grinned happily, “I do.”

She was still recovering from the hastened heartbeat in her chest, but she reached to kiss him nonetheless. His mouth tasted of her and it burned her. She bit his lip, clenching around nothing. She shouldn’t feel possessive, but she couldn’t help it.

“Remember my sassy mouth?”

He cupped her neck and kissed the corner of her mouth, “I do.”

“I don’t think I can articulate much yet, but how about doing what you planned?”

He chuckled at the hint of neediness in her voice. “You mean you blowing me while you pleasure yourself?”

“Or you fucking my mouth, whichever you prefer,” she sighed, nuzzling his nose.

He brushed his nose back on hers and hummed for a moment.

“We can start with you and see how you feel.”

She pecked his lips and immediately moved away. She grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor before kneeling on it, then she tapped the edge of the bed.

“Come here.”

He moved to sit there with his legs around her and she drew closer, leaning down to kiss his crotch and belly before nuzzling her way down to his balls.

He grabbed her hair out of the way without any pressure whatsoever and just stayed with his mouth agape looking at the way she was licking and nibbling his balls gently. She was soft and mindful of hurting him, but quick and sloppy as if she was hungry and it filled him with anticipation.

By the time she licked up his shaft, she was already drooling and she looked up to see him, to make sure he knew that. She wanted that, she wanted to taste him, to drive him wild into coming and giving everything he had.

She took his tip in and remembered well how he liked pressure there more than speed, and she got to it immediately. She sucked hard on his head while she bobbed her head in short movements, making her best to keep that pressure constant. The way he groaned and tightened his grip around her hair melted her and gave her even more energy. His girth was wide enough that her jaw would hurt for sure after the fact, but that would not be the thing to make her stop.

She added her tongue to the mix, flicking it and searching for the place that made him moan the hardest while she suckled on him.

She must have done something right because his taste hit her taste buds and she moaned. He tasted sweet and delicate and she guessed then that if she wanted the full taste she had to go for it. She was drooling with how much she wanted it and she didn’t realize how much she was pushing him until he groaned loudly and put one hand on her neck to gently guide her out.

She raised her head with a pop of her lips, keeping his hard dick pointing at her with her hands. Its glistening reddened tip was tempting her and she couldn’t look away.

“That was close,” he mumbled, and she finally looked up.

He was panting and he reached to wipe the thin coat of sweat off his brow. He looked down at her and she could only curve her lips in amusement.

“Why did you stop me? I was having a blast.”

She sounded playful and he chuckled, “Well, you never told me where to come. Plus,” he moved away from her to reach for something on the bedside table. “You wanted to pleasure yourself.”

She lowered her eyes to his open hand and saw her vibrator.

She grimaced in disbelief, “You stopped our fun for that?”

“I want you to feel good,” he smiled sheepishly.

Her eyebrows jumped, “How do you think I’ve been feeling so far?!”

He grinned with a hint of shyness, and pride, and she bit her lip down hard so she wouldn’t bite him.

“You said me in your mouth was the thing to make you come… and I don’t want to steal that opportunity from you.”

Her chin dropped in shock, then she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. We’re taking care of you right now and you’re still worried about me?” She reached suddenly for his lips and he supported her through their kiss with gentleness. “You can’t be real,” she whispered, nuzzling his nose before going back down on her knees. “You just can’t be.”

He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t give him the time to think of something.

“You should come in my mouth,” she told him, grabbing the egg-shaped vibrator. “I need to know how you taste. You can get up and fuck me whenever you want, just please don’t do it too harshly because I gag easily.” She spread her legs a bit so she could accommodate the vibrator. “And if I start coming, do not stop. In fact, I might get sloppy, so take matters into your own hands.” She raised an eyebrow, “Did I forget something?”

“No, ma'am.”

He was smiling in a tease and she pursed her lips before looking down. His cock twitched under her gaze and she looked back up. He didn’t need to ask for attention, so she guessed it was involuntary, which made it even hotter.

She sighed as she took him inside her mouth again and she made sure to take him all the way in comfortably a few times to show him where he could go. He didn’t fit completely in, so despite his moans she hoped he had paid attention.

Only then did she turn on the vibrator and hummed instantly. She was not going to last, she was certain. She was immensely turned on, any nudge in the right direction was enough.

She bucked her hips on the toy and used that same rhythm in her mouth. It was harder to stay focused and she started moaning quickly out of the sheer pleasure shooting through her. He had such a good fucking cock that fit in her mouth perfectly and would spray her full soon. He couldn’t help himself, she would blow him just right until he would pop. He knew deep down that he had no choice. He wanted to come for her, to fill her up, he was helpless. If she wanted it, he had to give it to her, and if he tried holding back, she would blow him and ride him until he blew.

Thoughts like those drove her insane, and his dick in her mouth was exactly what brought to life all of her fantasies. In minutes her whines gained a pitch and he should know by now that meant she was right on the verge of her orgasm. Her hand on his base lost grip, and her lips became less taut, allowing for her drool to drip down his shaft, and he knew what to do.

He got up and she moved with him, allowing him to grab her head and gain complete reign over everything. She let him do it and in seconds her orgasm invaded her, making her moan deeply. And he grunted with those sounds because he could reach her throat that much easier, interrupting them with every thrust. It was so fucking hot that he had no problems in just leaping through it as soon as he could confidently say her orgasm was done.

Then she hummed as his cum started dripping on her mouth and her lips became taut again. She sucked him neatly and swallowed him dry as he did his best efforts to contain his hips jerking. He was still holding her hair and head, and her mouth felt so wet and tight he had to take a deep breath, mastering himself until the end.

He sighed as the pleasure dissipated gently, then let her head go. She pulled out and looked up at him with a sly smile.

“You… are fucking great.”

He broke down laughing quietly and she did the same, holding his hands to get up and stand tall. He immediately supported her lower back and neck and drew her in for a kiss. His tongue licked hers and danced with hers, not bothered in the slightest by his own taste.

He pecked her nose and she sighed. “I could sleep a bit more.”

He smiled, “Me too.”

He let her go just enough for the both of them to get under the sheets again and snuggled her when she came closer, hiding her face on his chest.

They drifted off asleep almost instantly, and so it felt like in the same breath they woke up. They were startled by the knocking loud sounds on the door and she pulled away to blink at him in bewilderment. He had a quizzical eyebrow raised and she had her brow creased, completely dumbfounded.

A woman started yelling in Korean and Angie’s expression became almost comical as she sat up, trying but unable to understand a single word. Namjoon sat up too.

“Late! Late!”

“I’m coming! One minute!” Angie finally yelled, and then it quieted down. It had worked, whoever it was left. “What the—”

“She says you’re late, the bride is asking for you.”

She turned to him, then blinked — of course he understood that. She frowned and searched for her phone, “We just drifted off a minute ago, how—”

She gasped and jumped off the bed in two seconds. She had missed calls, and Hyejin had sent her a roll of messages. She played the last audio.

“Angie! Where are you?! I don’t know if I should be concerned or angry, should I call the police?! I need my bridesmaid, I’m almost done and you’re not here! I’m going to cry, please don’t disappear on my wedding day!”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Indeed it was almost ten in the morning. She turned to Namjoon, who was now getting up with his phone in hand.

“They’re looking for me too.”

“How the heck did my alarm not ring?” Angie groaned.

“It doesn’t matter,” he reminded her, holding her arms. “I’ll leave you to get ready and go and do the same.” She shuddered and nodded. He was so fucking sexy just calming her down like that and focusing her on what mattered. “Will I… see you later?”

She smirked, “If Hyejin doesn’t kill me or kick me out, yes.”

He smiled and turned to search for his clothes and put them on. She grabbed her phone and tapped to record an audio.

“I’m so sorry, Hyejin, my alarm didn’t go off. I’m going to shower and I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay calm, I love you.”

She sent it quickly and turned to the man in her bedroom. She felt butterflies in her stomach and swallowed them. She probably shouldn’t, she was an adult and she knew how those things went. Still, he wasn’t out of the room yet and she was too tempted.

So while he bent over to put his shoes on, she walked up to him and held his jaw for him to rise back up. She kissed him softly and he stood up by himself, supporting her arms as he did.

Then she pulled back with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Namjoon nodded and saw her disappear into the bathroom. He shook his head to get the image of her lean back and perky ass out of his mind and turned to leave. Her shower started just before he closed the door behind him.

He rushed down the corridor and used the stairs to go up to his room. He was super fast and ignored the people in the corridor, even though the chances that they were any of the guys were high. He needed to get ready quickly, he also didn’t want to stress Hyejin or miss anything. It was a special day for her and he definitely wanted to be there, they were close friends.

He showered and got ready as fast as he could. He was putting on his gray blazer when someone knocked hastily on his bedroom door and he ran to open it.

On the other side, Jin had wide shocked eyes. In fact, six pairs of eyes were gawking at him.

“Hi guys—”

“He’s here!” Jin yelled, despite the others being equally aware.

“He wasn't here before,” Hoseok frowned, confused.

“Where were you?!” Jimin asked with a scoff.

“Were you hiding somewhere hyung?” Taehyung asked.

They were barging in the room as if searching for something and he had no chances to say anything.

“Where would he hide?” Yoongi whined, with a puff. “Let’s just go, the wedding is in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I want to catch breakfast,” Jungkook rubbed his hands together.

“We just had breakfast,” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, you missed breakfast,” Jin turned to Namjoon and pointed it out with a shrug.

“Well, you know, second breakfast,” Jungkook said slowly.

“What are you, a hobbit?” Jimin laughed coming from the bathroom with Taehyung. Were they looking for something?

“No, but these things always drag on,” Jungkook pouted.

“That’s very true,” Jin agreed. "We're going to be hungry."

“We’re going to be late,” Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Where were you anyway, hyung?” Jimin asked, seemingly confident he couldn’t find anything suspicious in his room.

“What do you mean where…” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck while heading for the door. “Let’s g—”

“Why is your bed still made?”

The room quieted down and everyone turned to look at Taehyung, who was standing right beside the bed eying it suspiciously. They all could see in an instant that he was correct, his bed was perfectly made.

Namjoon scoffed, “What do you mean? I always make the bed when I wake up.”

“That’s true,” Jungkook murmured and Yoongi nodded.

“But this perfectly?” Taehyung insisted.

Jimin jumped on the bed and raised something above his head with a victorious chant, “Ah! The chocolate is still under his pillow!”

Everyone then turned to Namjoon to complain.

“It would have melted.”

“What melted, it would have fallen.”

“You should have eaten it.”

“No one leaves the chocolate there.”

“The bed is too perfect, just me jumping on it made more of a mark than your sleep.”

“If you were here before, why didn’t you respond when we came to call you for breakfast?”

“And why did you not answer your phone?” Jimin added, remembering it suddenly.

The room quieted down for a few seconds and most eyes fell on Namjoon, who just frowned in confusion.

Thankfully, Jungkook rubbed his chin and tried, “Maybe he was in the shower…”

“For an hour?” Taehyung scoffed.

“His hair is wet right now, you just showered right?” Jin smirked playfully.

Jin’s question was the last straw and Namjoon just sighed, turned, and walked out the door.

“We’re going to be late.”

The guys whined after him, with Taehyung closing the door behind them all before yelling across the corridor, “Where did you sleep?!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in a second out of sheer embarrassment before he groaned and turned to go down the stairs with the other six trailing him. He could not be stuck with them in an elevator right now and he needed to burn the energy that stress was causing.

It’s not like he couldn’t tell them, he thought, as they exited the staircase towards the lobby. He quickly rushed to the balcony of the hotel that led to the garden where the wedding ceremony would be held. There, fortunately, the class and formality of the event quieted the others down. He hoped it would distract them enough as he walked quietly to the beverages table and got himself a coffee.

He could tell them, but he wondered if it was correct to do so. He didn’t kiss and tell, that would be rude of him. Additionally, she would be there at the party and if they met her, it could be weird if they knew. What if they said stupid things or insinuated something, he would die with the embarrassment not to mention he wanted to see her again.

I’ll see you soon.

He blushed and it wasn’t from the hot coffee. He wanted to see her again.

“Seriously, hyung.” He turned and Taehyung was there, reaching to grab a coffee too. “I won’t tell anyone, but the curiosity is killing me.”

Namjoon licked his lips and looked around them. There were definitely too many people there, so he started walking as if nonchalantly wanting to walk the gardens. Taehyung followed him.

“Hyung! Trust me, I just—”

“I wasn’t in my room, alright?” Namjoon turned suddenly, almost spilling both their drinks but Taehyung stopped in his tracks before they could clash.

Taehyung grinned widely, “Ah, I knew it!” He was so giddy he would be jumping right now if it wasn’t for the drink. “Who is she? We saw you with a girl yesterday, you guys were talking.” Namjoon groaned and pressed his temples. The lack of sleep was making his head hurt. “Is it her?”

“Excuse me.”

Both men turned, one with panicked eyes, the other with a pout.

“We’re rounding up everyone for the ceremony to start,” the lady told them politely with a bow.

Namjoon bowed back and took the opportunity to drag Taehyung along, “Not a word of this. I’ll tell you, but not now. Please, let’s keep it quiet.”

He gave him a pleading look and Taehyung smiled, “Not a word, hyung. You can trust me.”

They went straight to their seats on the bride’s side, second row, all to themselves. Most people were already there and ready.

“Where were you?” Jin whispered in a scolding tone.

“Coffee,” Taehyung answered sheepishly, sipping on his paper cup. Jimin eyed him suspiciously, but Taehyung had the most angelical expression on.

Namjoon was unaware of this however because his eyes were avidly searching for someone. And luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long. Music started to play and people started making their way down the aisle. He nodded at the groom and some groomsmen he knew. Everyone bowed when the parents of the groom passed, then the mother of the bride. And finally, there was someone that passed that stole his breath away.

Angie was wearing a dark blue dress that delineated her curves beautifully. Her blonde hair was falling on her right shoulder in delicate waves and her cleavage was deep, though not too flashy. She was smiling the whole time, and the corners of her lips twitched when her eyes finally fell on him. He had no idea what kind of face he was making, but only when she passed by him did he blink and break the spell.

Hyejin was of course stunning and nearly crying in happiness as she passed by her friends and family, and Namjoon felt his eyes wet at the sight of her. He glanced to check on the others and everyone was smiling the same, only Yoongi looked down for a moment while Hyejin was left by her dad to her fiancé at the altar.

The ceremony was beautiful and everyone cheered and whistled when they finally kissed as husband and wife. The tables for lunch had been set on the other side of the garden and everyone made their way there after passing by the bride and groom to congratulate them.

As people who stood up front, BTS were one of the first to approach them. Namjoon was behind Yoongi in line, who seemed to want to avoid the moment, but Namjoon wasn’t having it. He knew Yoongi hated feelings, but it was an important moment for Hyejin and—

“You look beautiful,” Namjoon heard Yoongi say quietly.

Namjoon thought it was weird that was all Yoongi said, instead of congratulations and lots of happiness on your marriage. His eyebrows jumped at the way Yoongi and Hyejin were just staring into each other’s eyes, and he looked away quickly. Whatever story they might or not once had just ended, and he felt for Yoongi. Namjoon knew he would never say anything, no matter the words that crossed his mind right now.

He looked up in time to see Yoongi’s pressed lips as he walked away, and then Hyejin’s eyes filled with tears. Namjoon stepped in quickly to hug her and hide her from the world, and she took the opportunity instantly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her head, kissing it. She was grabbing him for dear life. “You look stunning, like the brightest of stars, the most perfect flower.” She sobbed once in his chest and he kissed her head again. “We’re all happy for you. We support you no matter what.”

She chuckled and pulled away, cleaning her tears quickly. “Yeah.” She swallowed, “I’m just emotional today.”

He nodded and reached for her hand then kissed it. “We love you, don’t forget that.”

Hyejin smiled, but her lips trembled. Namjoon was ready to move along but Hyejin tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to lean in, “I’ll say this quickly before I lose the chance to. You and Angie are my closest friends. You guys are a match made in heaven. Don’t hurt her.” He pulled away with wide eyes and she smirked, “Don’t worry, I told her the exact same thing.”

She squeezed his hand and then let it go. He pressed his lips as he processed all those emotions and walked to join the rest of the members at their lunch table.

The party dragged on, and by the time everyone was celebrating and having lunch together, the seat to the right of Namjoon and the left of Jungkook was still empty.

“Who the hell is ‘Angie’ anyway?” Jungkook read with a stutter.

Namjoon pressed his lips as they all dug into the food. He wasn’t sure how to answer that—

“Hi again.”

All seven men stopped eating to see the woman dragging the chair to sit down. She smiled at them with individual nods, smiling a little wider to Jungkook as she sat beside him. Namjoon pressed his lips at this, he wasn’t sure how to take that smile—

“Did you have any trouble making it in time?” She leaned in to ask in his ear, and he immediately felt a blush creep in on his cheeks.

“No, I was fine,” he whispered back in English, trying not to combust. Fortunately, none of the others could understand them. “You?”

Angie puffed as she got ready to taste the appetizer, “Hyejin almost bit my head off.” She hummed at how good it was then smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, I had to tell her.” She looked worried as she waited for his reaction. “It was a survival instinct.”

He grinned, “I understand. She sounded… authoritarian when she, uh… commented about it.”

Angie’s eyes widened, “Oh no… Did she…?” He nodded and Angie sighed. “I'm so sorry. Damn it, I didn’t imagine she would bother you about it.”

He chuckled, “She told you the exact same she told me.” Angie tried eating a bite as she pondered on what to say. “She seems rather protective of us.”

She grinned, “She does, doesn’t she?”

They were interrupted when celebrations started among tables with people giving their speeches and Angie stayed quiet. Despite being a bridesmaid, Hyejin knew why she didn’t want to do a speech — she didn’t speak Korean. She was there to support her best friend, but she knew she wouldn’t really partake in the party.

Namjoon was sweet and translated most of what was happening so she wouldn’t feel left out, and she was thankful. She could sense the other guys’ eyes on her and she decided to become even more invisible.

She lost track of time, they were waiting for dessert when the man on her right side drew her attention.

“Who… are you?”

His English was probably not good, but she smiled at his effort. “I’m Angie,” she answered, bowing shortly.

“I’m Jungkook,” he answered, with a hand on his chest. “Who…” He looked over at Namjoon and she opened her mouth, then closed it.

Her Korean was truly rudimentary so she tried remembering. She knew the word for friend, but she was stomped on how to explain—

“You can say it, I’ll translate,” Namjoon offered with a smile.

“I don’t want to bother you,” she answered with a pained smile.

“You’re not.”

His eyes didn’t rest on her like she hoped they would, and she tried not to feel discouraged.

“I’m Hyejin’s friend. We were roommates for six years in college, so we became pretty close.”

He translated it and all the guys hummed. Another one asked something.

“Jimin asks if you’re also a physician.”

“No, I’m a physicist.” She smiled, then chuckled at their confusion. “Close, but not quite the same.”

She asked about them and was surprised to find they were all singers and idols. They were all very good-looking, but then again so was everyone in Hyejin’s entourage. It made sense because her father and now husband worked in the music industry, but it was always shocking to meet someone seemingly normal but who was truly so rich and famous.

Which reminded her of who she had slept with last night. She kept chatting with them while in the back of her mind, she considered this. Namjoon was too great, it was hard to believe, but then again not that much. He was smart, sensible, polite, hot, and a good lover. She almost scoffed in disbelief, how was he still single? But he had to be, if not for Namjoon not saying anything, at least Hyejin would have when she told her they had spent the night together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names,” she smiled. “Jungkook,” she pointed at the man on her right, who smiled.

One by one they presented each other and she tried not to give it away, but her eyes fell back on Yoongi. So that was the famed Yoongi. She didn’t mean this musically, of course, she didn’t know anything about that.

They chatted and when the party progressed and they got up to get drinks, she smiled and let them go. She was surprised when Namjoon came back with a flute of champagne for her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile and sat back down.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sipping on his wine.

“Do you know anything about Hyejin and that guy, Yoongi?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows, “Well… I mean, I know something but…”

She leaned towards him and whispered, “Will you tell me? It’s a big mystery to me, it’s the only guy she ever spoke about in college.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “She clearly liked him, but when she came back here I guess she chose someone else. It always confused me.”

Namjoon looked down and nodded as Angie smiled at Hyejin dancing with her dad.

“This is a secret, I think I’m the only one of the guys who knows,” he started and she zipped her lips closed.

“My lips are sealed. You and I are the only ones that know about this, then.”

He nodded. “We grew up together, she’s Jungkook’s age.” He eyed Angie, suddenly realizing that she was also Jungkook’s age. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he shook his head. “Yeah, so I have known her the longest since I was the first to join the company, and she reminded me of my younger sister, so we became close. Then Yoongi joined and she was struck. She was only fourteen but she crushed on him hard. For years, she hung out with all of us, but she was head over heels for him.”

Angie chuckled, “You mean getting all quiet and red around him?” He nodded. “I’ve seen that, but only in passing. She dated in college, but it was never really serious. She was always hung up on someone from here,” Angie continued with a sad shrug. “One time she got drunk and wailed about the ‘cream’ incident.”

Namjoon was shocked, “You know about that?” She nodded. “You have to tell me!” Her eyebrows jumped. “No one knows what happened, Yoongi never said anything. It’s probably the only secret they both kept from us. Or at least from me.”

She eyed him with squinted eyes, “Hmm, are you trustworthy with such sensitive information?”

His jaw dropped and then he sat up straight, “I thought we were sharing secrets…”

She grinned, “We are… You’ll keep it a secret?”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.” He promised with a hand over his chest, then his eyebrows puckered. He had said that before.

“It’s silly, really. Basically, when she was eighteen, before she came to the US, she found Yoongi in the kitchen with a can of whipped cream. I think they played for it or something, but it basically exploded on them and covered them up. She was really worried about upsetting him, so she tried to clean him up and I think things got heated. She might have removed her shirt, or his, I don’t remember, but I do know that he grabbed her by the shoulders and firmly pushed her to stand away, then he ran off.” Her smile vanished as she remembered Hyejin telling her this. “She regretted never confronting him about it, or telling him how she felt.” Namjoon stayed quiet. “She saw that as a rejection, but she never had the guts to confirm it.”

“We never knew about that. We only ever saw them covered in cream and they both refused to say anything about it. We even thought they were dating, but they both denied it.”

“I don’t think they ever dated,” Angie commented, glancing at Yoongi sipping on a drink at the bar. “Otherwise she would be marrying him.”

Namjoon nodded with a degree of sorrow, “I agree… I never saw anything that made me believe he might have feelings for her until today. I think he’s suffering in his own way.”

She sighed after they stayed quiet for a while, “That’s so sad… She’s the one that got away…”

“So is he…”

“But why? I mean, they’re both adults,” she frowned, turning to look at Namjoon. “Why did she not go for it when she came back? Was he dating someone else?”

Namjoon’s lips pulled in an attempt at a smile, “No, he wasn’t. He still isn’t.”

Her eyebrows jumped, “Wow, then why? Hyejin knows better than to suck it up—”

“He’s an idol.”

“So?”

He pressed his lips and looked down, “It’s just too complicated. They’d never have a normal relationship, and it would be a lot of pressure for her.” He raised his eyes and he wished it wasn’t hurting him that much to say those things. “She probably never asked because he would have to say no. Even if he wanted to say yes.”

Angie’s expression was pale as one of her eyebrows was lowered in subtle disagreement. She could understand what he was trying to say, but she refused to buy it.

“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit.” Her tone was soft. “Look at him, do you think it was worth it? We talked about how success turns into emptiness. I told you that not all sacrifices are worth it, and I’m not a renowned billionaire star.” She paused. She was frowning despite not wanting to be harsh on him. She just utterly refused that thought. “If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine how it is for him.” She looked away at Yoongi and then at Hyejin. “I hope no one else goes through the same thing.”

She dragged her chair and got up, and he stuttered to say something but was too late to stop her. He saw her walk away in between all those people and he felt powerless. What could he say? Maybe she was right. Having seen Yoongi and Hyejin grow up together, he surely would have wished it was them getting married today. In a parallel universe, maybe they were. And it was sad to think Yoongi was not as happy as he could have been, but—

“She’s pretty.”

Namjoon turned to see Yoongi sitting on Jin’s spot. Namjoon passed his hand through his hair but nodded. There was nothing to say other than agree.

“And she seems interesting too,” Yoongi mused quietly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t spend hours talking to her like no one else exists.”

Namjoon pressed his lips, unsure of what to say. “When did I—?”

“Last night,” Yoongi answered. “And today, but you said something that upset her.”

Namjoon puffed and rubbed his face. What the hell was happening with him lately?

“We were discussing you, actually,” he admitted, eying his hyung.

“Me?”

“Yes. And Hyejin.”

Yoongi held his eyes then looked down at his drink and Namjoon reached for his. He wouldn’t say more than that, they were discussing secrets after all.

“I love her.”

Namjoon almost choked and Yoongi scoffed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were probably the only one who ever noticed.”

Namjoon nodded slowly, “How are you?”

“Miserable,” he answered with a smile, then downed his drink. “I’m burying my heart today.”

Namjoon grimaced but didn’t know what to say. “Things could have been different.” Yoongi scoffed and pushed his empty glass away. “Do you regret it?”

Yoongi heaved a deep breath, “I always wanted to be successful, to have a legion of fans. To have money and comfort. To be recognized for the genius I am.” Namjoon hid his smile with his glass. “But losing her… might be the only regret in my life.”

Yoongi’s eyes were intense and had a pain contained in them that made Namjoon instantly worried. He didn’t remember ever seeing his eyes like that, though it was true that Yoongi was the most reserved of them all, especially emotionally.

“So be confident,” Yoongi told him with half a smile. “Whatever you feel or want to do, be confident. You can do it.”

“Guys, you’re not dancing!” Taehyung neared them with the rest of the gang.

“I’m not dancing,” Yoongi scoffed.

“Me neither,” Namjoon agreed with a forced smile.

Angie got back to the table and sat in her spot after giving them a small smile. The guys restarted chatting, but Namjoon couldn’t pay attention. He hadn’t turned to see her or talk to her, but her quiet presence there burned his back. There were things left unsaid between them, he just really didn’t know what he could say.

“You have something on your neck.”

He frowned at the male voice speaking in English and turned back. All men did, in fact, only to see someone familiar talking to Angie.

Jin tried to call him, “Taesun!”

But he was dismissed quickly with a nod. Jungkook muttered something about him being in his spot, and Taehyung agreed quietly.

“What does he want?”

But Namjoon let out a deep breath. He knew exactly what he wanted. Hyejin had asked him to make sure he wouldn’t harass Angie so he should have expected it.

“Taesun—”

“I’ll be with you guys in a minute, okay?” He gave them a half-caustic smile before turning back to Angie in English. “Did you notice? Right here.”

He meant to reach the skin where her shoulder met her neck and she leaned back to dodge his hand with a frown. By doing this she almost bumped into Namjoon, who caught her shoulders gently. She felt supported by his touch, but that was her fight and she shouldn’t bother him.

“Sorry,” she bowed quietly without looking at him before turning to Taesun. “Yes, I know.” Her tone was dry as if she was being bothered, which she was.

He smiled, maybe choosing not to see it. “Did you hit it somewhere by accident or something?”

Her lips curved, “No, I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”

Namjoon had decided to turn halfway towards his bandmates, who were listening to the conversation unapologetically despite not understanding it entirely. He couldn’t help a smile at the snarky tone of her voice, and he hid it under his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

Namjoon’s lips pressed at the wanton tone of Taesun’s voice, and he closed his eyes. After the last words between him and Angie, he would understand it if she accepted and—

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” Namjoon’s eyes jumped to her head, unable to hide his interest. “You see, last night I hit more places than my neck, so it would be really uncomfortable to move.”

His hand was covering his face, but anyone could tell he looked concerned. Did he hurt her somehow?

Yet Taesun chuckled and shook his head, “I got it, I got it. It’s a pity, but maybe you’ll change your mind later.”

Her lips curved in a polite smile, but she turned away quickly to grab her drink and dismiss him. The others might have not understood a word, but body language and tone of voice spoke volumes. Jungkook immediately moved once Taesun stepped away to occupy his rightful place beside Angie, and Taehyung followed him. They both leaned worriedly and quietly asked her if she was okay. Taesun was married, and his attitude was really distasteful.

Jin and Hoseok immediately bit the bullet and jumped at the opportunity to distract him.

Yoongi was supporting his head on his hand when he asked quite loudly, “How’s your wife doing?”

Taesun only gave him half a smile before excusing himself.

“How can Hyejin share the same tree branch with him,” Hoseok wondered aloud.

“I need another drink,” Yoongi said, getting up.

The others seemed to decide to follow when they eyed Namjoon, who was staring at the table in front of him while trying to decide something. He was the only one not moving away and Taehyung smacked Jungkook’s shoulder amicably so the youngster would be assured that leaving them alone was okay.

Namjoon reached for Angie’s hand on her lap and she turned to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured him with a quick smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“But you just said you’re uncomfortable moving.”

He was fully leaning into her now, fixed on her glistening eyes and quite alienated from the rest of the party.

“Yeah, I am with him.” She underlined with clear aversion before her features softened. “I would be comfortable with you, however.”

He smiled and it reached his heart. His dimples were showing.

“I can’t. Too many eyes.”

“It’s just a dance.” Her smile was fading as she understood what was happening.

“I doubt I could keep my hands off you.” His mouth spoke faster than it should have, but it was truthful. He was nothing but himself, he was confident.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Their eyes were locked as they let the silence surround them. His hand was still holding hers on her lap, he was definitely too close not to be obvious to any bystander and life… He only had the one.

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He nodded with a sad smile, he only could have hoped.

“Would you… have time to be with me?”

He was caressing her hand before he looked up to her eyes.

She was grinning, “Hyejin is leaving on her honeymoon tomorrow. I have all the time in the world until Monday.”

He nodded, “Then stay with me.”