#I do have other OCs besides the ones I already posted for it

[gamebunny-advance]

Hm.

I think I have the energy to prep 1 more character for Art Fight, but I dunno who.

Is there anyone y'all want to see? OCs or AU!Characters are fine. I can't guarantee that I'll do them, but I'd like to hear what y'all think at least.

[lizardbrainlabs]

*slides this across the table* ....my card

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Next Part

Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way 🖤 ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-��

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

~

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

-> Next Part

[alphabetboyluvr]

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

part two (x)

[midnight-mourning]

❄️MIDNIGHT'S DCA DECEMBER❄️

Hello! I've decided to have a little bit of fun this December and will be opening up requests for the month! Please see below for more details (With subheadings!):

Requests Overall

I will have 31 slots available for requests, first come, first serve. Each piece will range from 1000-2000 words in length and may (MAY) include a little doodle made by me.

Requests can be anything! They just have to be winter/holdiay themed (do NOT have to be releated to Christmas) and DCA-related

Winter/holiday themed means movies/stories too! Ex: i am a BIG fan of The Nutcracker (went insane when I saw @/robinette-green's au for the Barbie version lmao)

As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc. 

For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is FINE), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want

Potential Issues & Schedule

If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to. 

I will be posting these throughout December, ending on the 31st

In order to have enough time to write, I will be starting these as soon as I get the first request. To speed things up a little, requests will be open from 11/29 to 12/13 OR until I receive 31 unique requests. So that's maximum two weeks to think of an idea and share it with me. 

If I don't get enough overall or get anything prior to Dec. 1 I'll probably come up with some ideas of my own, but only if that happens! Additionally, if I don't get enough, I may open it up for people to request multiple times, again only if I don't get enough or run out of ideas (genuinely don't know how many I should expect so just trying to cover my bases lol)

To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.

HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)

Confused Spirit

For those who may be concerned (as I was before making this post lmao) Confused Spirit's schedule will not be affected by this! Now that it's back I'd like it to stay back lol. We may stick to an every two weeks schedule for a bit, or may go back to weekly, it will depend on life stuff, not on other writing things. I promise ^_^

Having little things like these also help prevent writers block, and thus stay more consistent with updates

Sharing & More

Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 31 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!

I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^

Unrelated but similar, @/quilteddreams is working on a DCA Advent Calendar for December that's also really cool! (I'm helping out with beta reading :D) Highly reccommend you check it out once it starts posting! 

Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca December, just in case there's another similar tag out there and I'm not just taking it for myself

Alright, that's all for now, excited to see what you guys ask for!

Adding the tag list to this since y'all enjoy my writing lol:

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai

[kaisturni]

bewitched | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ oc! created for the plot

→ plot; you and matt attend the wedding of your best friends, and he comes a realization about you that he should’ve known all along.

→ warnings; absolutely NONE. tooth aching, cavity inducing, sickly sweet fluff.

→ a/n; i’m so sorry i reread this and literally had to post

NOT PROOFREAD KINDA

——————————————————————————

“ready, man? big day today, huh?” matt shook, his best friends shoulders lovingly, excited to watch nathan get married, a sentiment you two always talked about together, the future wedding of the person that grew up beside the both of you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“what do you think about charlotte?” he asked you whilst taking a sip of the milkshake you were sharing at dinner.

“oh, she’s the one.” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, confused by the certainty of your statement.

“how can you be so sure, they’ve only been together six months or so?”

you looked off to the side, giggling at his question, fiddling the straw wrapper between your manicured hands.

“she’s just so right for him, y’know? i’ve never seen him do the things he does for her, for anyone. they take care of each other. call it the honeymoon phase whatever, that’s going to last with them. oh man, have you seen the way he looks at her? that never goes away. when you know you know? right?”

he shrugs his shoulders, “yeah i guess so”

he had no reason to argue with you about your reasoning for why exactly charlotte was the one for nathan,

“only time can tell” he adds

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

even then you had such an optimistic look on love. it was natural, real, and easy. you had no reason to believe a love like that couldn’t exist. but to put it bluntly, he didn’t exactly have the same compass as you when it came to love. he too had no reason to not believe a love like that was real, but that wasn’t something he could tell you. his relationship with you had only been a couple of weeks down the line. matt wasn’t ready to lose you just yet, so he kept those thoughts to himself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

“i’ve waited for this day since i met charlotte, when you know you know, am i right?” fixing the cuff links on his slick black suit,

deja vu hit him, and he thought of your words in a conversation you had years ago,

“for sure, now get out there and marry her”

the pair hugged, and nathan disappeared out to the venue, excitedly finding his way to the altar, the ceremony was about to begin.

of course, it wasn’t just him in the room, his brothers nick and chris, and nathan’s other groomsmen were also in collective. each got to walk down the isle with a member of charlotte’s party, you included, being her maid of honor after, and him as nathan’s best man. you were the ones to introduce them, after all. he faced the mirror on the other side of him, watching the men around him mingle and laugh. he fixed his own cuff links and tie in the mirror, almost letting himself think it was his own big day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

the wedding party lined up, waiting for their cue to enter, you and matt being first. he hasn’t seen you yet that day, too busy scrambling; helping charlotte all day, getting ready yourself, and making sure everything was perfect for your best friend. right now, his mind could only imagine how beautiful you looked.

to be fair, he already knew how striking you were. since the day you two met, you were always the one to catch his eye. he could never focus on anyone else but you. in his mind it was young love; the love that makes you dumb, and wild, the kind that doesn’t truly last. now that years have passed you’ve been dating, and you’ve grown together, his dress shoes suddenly didn’t fit and the collar of his shirt was too tight on his neck, the thought of letting you go one day made him feel uncomfortable.

matt shook the thought out of his head, right on time to hear the music, signaling him to walk in to the ceremony.

you enter the same time he does, and his entire body felt weak at the sight of you.

matt knew you were never one to dress up, always in something casual and comfortable, unless necessary. he never gets to see you like this, the seldom times being prom and a handful of your own college formals. but nothing compared to this.

the black strapless dress hugged your skin perfectly, accentuating all your curves, paired flawlessly with white heels, yet you still fell short under his height.

your hair was neatly kept in an updo, soft curls falling in front of your face, he always loved seeing you with your hair up.

your delicate hold of the bouquet in your hands, french tips on your nails, as always.

your whole body glowed with radiance, and you met his face with a warm smile, which he gladly returned. he couldn’t help but think how strikingly perfect you looked; every detail of you he took in, there was no part of you that was a mystery to him.

matt has seen you be beautiful in every stage of life you’ve known each other, and this time it was astonishing as the first time around.

his mind trailed back to when you two were in high school and university; when you were still a girl and he got to call you that.

his girl.

but that was not the person standing in front of him, you were a woman now.

his woman.

you brought him out of his daydream, with a soft “hi,” soft enough that only his blessed ears could hear.

he mouthed the same back to you, and offered you his arm which you gladly took, effortlessly shifting the bouquet to your other hand. he looked forward at his best friend standing at the altar, nathan’s gaze bouncing between you and matt, smile growing exponentially bigger.

you and matt made your way down the isle, the trail of the others behind you following shortly after.

his mind went back to the thoughts he had earlier of what his wedding day would be like; walking down a similar path, similar people as his own groomsmen, but different decorations and maybe some different guests, but one constant was there,

and it was you.

meeting nathan at the end of the walkway, matt hugged him first and you following,

“thank you,” nathan whispered in your ear, you broke the hug, giving him a silent ‘of course’ as you shuffled to your side in front of the other women.

an instrumental began to play; charlotte was about to walk in. you could barely contain the excitement of seeing your best friend marry the love of her life. you felt a little proud about being part of the reason her and nathan started dating, but you were always humble about it.

matt on the other hand, he wasn’t thinking about charlotte; hell, he wasn’t even thinking about nathan. he could only think of you, and how you were beaming with joy in the moment.

would you be the same way on your big day?

‘Wrapped me in your arms

Leaned in and whispered

"Keep me in your heart"

‘I'm so bewildered

What's this new desire called?’

‘I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before

But now, I think I'm learning’

in all honesty, he never paid much attention to the lyrics, just knew that you liked it. but for once, his ears tuned in.

‘You bewitched me

From the first time that you kissed me’

that was true. your first kiss together was sweet and innocent, shared after only one date at the most dive style restaurant in boston. even from that day, he was hooked on you.

‘Waited all night

Then we ran down the street in the late London light

The world froze around us, you kissed me good night’

the grand doors fell open, and there she was. charlotte was glowing. a perfect bride on her perfect day, everyone turning their entire bodies to look at her. but matt’s eyes never left you.

‘You bewitch me

Every damn second you're with me’

he watched your eyes become glossy, tears almost immediately streaming down from your face as you happily wept at the sight the girl you’ve known for years.

‘I try to think straight

But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart’

matt had to force himself to rip his gaze from you, now looking at nathan, who was biting his lip, doing little to nothing to stop the pools of tears coming from his eyes. matt could only think how lucky he was to get to experience this. to marry the woman he’s been so sure about for so long.

‘You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart

And bewitched me’

deja vu hit matt again, and it hit him hard.

“only time can tell” he remembers exactly how those words came out of his mouth that day.

“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”

you were right. you were always right. now he knew. time was all he needed.

‘You're not even gone

I already miss you

What's going on?’

he was too caught up in thinking that all good things come to an end, that his first love wouldn’t last, and it would only be a matter of time. you were the only good thing he didn’t want to end.

‘I've never been through

This all-consuming fire fuming

Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying

'Cause I think I'm falling’

a shaky breath released from his mouth, feeling the guilt of not realizing he wanted to marry you sooner, how you always did things for him, things you wouldn’t do for anyone else; you took care of him.

he lost count of how many times he pulled himself into reality from his own thoughts today, and as charlotte made her way to hold hands with nathan, she whispered an ‘i love you,” to you, matt finally felt his eyes gloss with tears, at both the sight in front of him and the thought of you. all of you.

he knew he wanted you all to himself, forever.

your eyes finally met his, not knowing he was looking at you this entire time. you gave him that smile again, a tear dropping down his face.

“i love you,” he mouthed, you let out a gentle breath at his words. he knew were usually the one to say it first, not like he never said it. he said it all the time; but you were quick to steal those three words from his breath without even realizing.

“i love you,” he watches you mouth back, doing your best to not interrupt the moment happening in front of the two of you.

he vowed silently to cherish you forever, love you ljke there’s no tomorrow, vow to make you his wife. vow to show everyone the way he looks at you, because that will never go away. matt almost selfishly knows you feel the same way, thinking about how you predicted the future of your best friends only half a year into their relationship. why would you stay with him if you didn’t feel that, too?

because when you know you know? right?

[phantomwithbreakfast]

✩ ~ If You Know, You Know ~ ✩

If you’re adrift in your own vivid, imaginary world, you know. If your mind doesn’t follow the typical pathways, you know.

(A kind of animated thing at the end of this)

———————

The sunlight stretched long fingers through my window, spilling warm streaks across the cluttered floor. Paints, pencils, and half-finished sketches surrounded me, a small fortress of creative chaos. I was deep into it—lost in the rhythm of sketching lines that might, just might, lead somewhere—when Danny appeared.

At first, he was just a shadow in the corner of my eye, a faint blur of movement. But then, as if the sunlight solidified him, he stood there, leaning casually against the wall like he’d always been a part of this room.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he teased me, that lopsided grin of his making me smile despite myself.

I waved him off, pretending I was drawing. “What do you think, genius?”

Danny didn’t answer.

Of course, he didn’t.

He never gave me that satisfaction. So instead, he plopped himself on my desk chair and began whistling.

“Do you mind?” I asked, feigning irritation.

He shrugged. “Not really.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to concentrate, but Danny had other plans. He started tapping his fingers on my desk, drumming out some rhythm that had no beginning and no end. When that didn’t get a rise out of me, he started humming—soft at first, then louder, adding lyrics that made absolutely no freaking sense.

“Danny!”

“What? You looked like you needed a break.”

“I don’t.”

“You sure?” He grinned wider and reached over to nudge one of my pencils off the desk. It clattered to the floor, joining the others he’d already scattered.

This was the thing about Danny. He didn’t come when I needed him, not really. He came when I thought I didn’t need anyone. He came when I was so buried in my own mind—in every single way possible—that I didn’t notice the sunlight anymore or the way the world felt alive outside these four walls.

If you know, you know. If you’re the kind of person whose head is so full of ideas it feels like it might burst, you know what it’s like to have a Danny. Someone that pulls you out of your own brain and reminds you there’s more to life than the next line, the next stroke, the next brilliant thought.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed, setting my pencil down. “You win.”

Danny lit up like I’d handed him a trophy. “Excellent choice.”

He flopped onto the floor beside me against the wall, staring up at the ceiling like he was seeing constellations in the cracks of the plaster.

“So, what are we working on today?” He asked.

“I am working,” I corrected. “You are distracting.”

“Same difference.”

He turned his head to grin at me, and for a slight moment, I forgot all about the mess, the deadlines, the pressure.

It didn’t matter that Danny would probably be gone in a few hours, fading back into wherever he came from. What mattered was that right now, he was here. Pulling me out of myself, turning my messy little room into something brighter, something more alive.

And maybe that was the point of Danny. He wasn’t here to stay. He was here to remind me that sometimes, it’s okay to put the pencil down and just exist.

For a while, we just sat there, watching the sunlight move across the walls, filling the silence with his whistling and my laughter.

Again, if you know, you know.

———————

When my full hyper-fixated ADHD brain kicks in, this happens. Most of the time it’s just Phantom that shows up though, not Danny as Fenton. (I was doubting to post this, but yeah. I did it anyway)

—���—————

—OC: Hailey.

I’m that kind of a Phan… (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ⋆˙⟡♡

Please, tell me I’m not the only one for Danny’s sake…

[franki-lew-yo]

Mouthwashing and fandom discourse as a whole.

So I recently explored the tag for Mouthwashing after watching two no-commentary lets plays of the entire game. I'm seeing a lot of posts pointing out how annoying it is that this game has a fandom and that this fandom is doing fandom things and stanning/"uwu-ing" characters from this incredibly nuanced, raw and not-fandom friendly piece of art. To paraphrase someone I just saw "you don't want mouthwashing; you want Among Us ocs but darker". And

for a moment I wanna talk a bit about how I absolutely agree with this statement while also talk for a moment about how and why fandom and catharsis fan fics exist and shouldn't be shamed inherently. Or, I guess, not in theory.

The "come on! Stop trying to make everything shippable/cutsey/memey/have a happy AU and face unpleasant emotions someone's trying to tell you about!" is SUCH a vibe with me. I felt this way in the 9 fandom a lot as a kid and that was just 9. Mouthwashing is like 9 on bathsalts emotions and theme-wise. It's a game where you play as both the flawed but caring captain of a doomed ship who's life becomes a Johnny Got His Gun-nightmare, and also a deplorable, hateful piece of garbage who got himself and his friend in that nightmare situation to begin with. Both characters, moreso Jimmy but Curly too, are the causes of their own misery. They're complex dealing with one of the two committing SA and doing nothing really about it/dodging the responsibility and humanity needed to support the victim whom they've wronged.

I fully admit it's groan-inducing seeing people be shipped up Anya with anyone on the ship considering what happens to her. On a pure pr level I think it would be illegal even since romance between coworkers in a workplace is considered conflict of interest/harassment as it so often is. (NOT that what Jimmy did to Anya is 'romance'. I'm talking about the shipping of Anya with the other three guys. I know there's people out there who do ship Jimmy/Anya; you don't have to tell or show me I believe you and also I already hate it.) It's ALSO groan inducing to see people ship Curly and Jimmy considering all Curly does to him- and just the fact that this incredibly tragic, toxic one-way-gone array friendship is reduced to "toxic yaoi teehee". It's annoying AT BEST.

I get the hostility towards fandom-tastic stanning and fandom behavior in general...the issue is it's still hostility and I wish some of you guys got that. Like it or not (you don't have to like it) fandom culture is inevitable to some degree. You can and should complain about your hangups but that's all you can do besides avoiding tags and just not engaging with that side of the fandom at some point. Save your call-outs and rage for when you see active deplorable bs being committed that people are excusing for dumb fandom reasons, like lolicon, hatespeech or harassment. I'm sorry but you can not actively go after and try and take down the innocent people involved in your trigger that aren't directly hurting you by liking the thing that triggers you; ie. people who get all shipping and fandom-brained about Mouthwashing's characters which you find offensive to do at all.

This type of convo is the crux of most 'antifandom' v profandom discourse in general; for Antis I think there ought to be a difference between the people that set you off bcuz of fandom nonsense vs sociopathic 'got mine'-creepiness. There's a difference between someone who draws r34 v Shadbase. For profandom types you out to face the fact that yes- maybe NOT EVERYTHING is meant to be shippable/memed. Maybe try practicing that a bit. Yeah it's most harmless and makes you feel happy, but considering how people outside of your hyperfixation-of-a-hyperfixation is a thing. The thing about the "don't like, don't read" argument is it goes both ways. If you're truly a "good fan" like you say you are than you have to realize that people will not like your problematicisms. Learn to interact with characters and stories without the possibility of shipping sometimes- or at least understand that that's the crux of what makes a story like Mouthwashing engaging, even if you also partake in the fandumb and AUs on the side. You can call Curly your babygirl and ship him or make him happy all you want but PLEASE acoknowledge that the game doesn't woobify him or excuse what he did to Anya as well. You can make some kind of AU scenario where Jimmy gets out somehow and becomes/is a slightly better person for all I care...so long as you PLEASE remember that he is canonically a r@pist and awful. Also, even if I'm okay with your fan decisions, note that myself and others are still going to be critical and be upset that you wrote it at all because of what kind of character Jimmy is. 'Critical' =/= declaring something evil.

Fandom behaviors are not souly a destructive parasocial outcome of brainrot; they're also a natural reaction to what happens canonically and the emotions you have to experiencing a story. It's normal and rational to sympathize and love Curly and despise and hate Jimmy. You can love/like/enjoy a problematic-to-DEEPLY DISTURBED-character based on their complexity in canon. They are fiction. They are not real. The reason you are so invested with them is because of that complexity and yes because they are fiction they are your 'toy' and you can doll them up in any kind of speculative AU crap you make. That's fanfiction, baby. Make yourself a fixit fic if you really want

BUT-

remember: it stays as a fixit fic. DO NOT cross the streams, or insist that your active misreading of the text is the same as the text itself. EVER. You should care about your special interest's escapism as a means of self-care. What you shouldn't do is demand that EVERYONE ELSE LOVE your coping mechanism and that any complaints by people on their own terms on their own blogs is #badfaith or an inherent attack against you. It isn't. You'll know when it is an attack against you and that's when you, the profandom-type, need to be prepared and save your call-out posts and blocklist for.

To me that's the fragility to fandom debates and fandom as a whole. You can not/should not police or control an entire group of people and how they perceive or interact with media. That's not fair and it's definitely not sporting or decent of you in a community. You have to share your community -your fandom- with people who hate ur fav and people who love your least fav. Agreeing to disagree means not tagging your nOTP as their shipname or by tagging your shipname loud and clear. It means filtering out posts with those topics but enjoying and/or reblogging the fandom takes you do share with your fellow fandom-mite that obviously posts abt those topics.

When schmit REALLY goes down and some assface reviewer/fan/SOMETHING is being an assface or doing something amoral under the guise of fandom-ing, that's where you out to put your foot down. Callouts and complaints are for people who did an egregious thing and refuse to take responsibility(lol) for it. They're not for "soandso likes the thing that triggers me, kill them"/"so and so is hating on the thing I'm kinning because it triggers them, kill them". Be an adult.

Your DNI lists should consist of "lolicon defenders" not "proshippers", as those ARE NOT one in the same. Same goes the other way around. List off "bigots, purity culture bs", not "antis and critics". These positions ARE NOT interchangeable. If you make them interchangeable than you're making things a lot harder for yourself.

-sincerely, a message from autistic ADHD/OCD woman who likes horror and media analysis as much as she loves popcorn fanfic schlock.

We don't all have to be friends and buddybuds. I just hate us hurting each other over being different kind of fandom-folk rather than for when someone sincerely mucks up and does something bad. Can't we all stick to our guns and just boycott Harry Potter like god intended?

[bellybuttonbooks]

Hey guys. I’m writing an Ekko x Fem!OC fanfic on Wattpad. I have 31 chapters written so far, with 14 of them posted (the other 16 are in editing stage).

TITLE: The Sixth

SUMMARY: Shimmer is back. Two years after the war with Noxus has ended, a new gangster emerges within the undercity, now known as 'Zaun'.

Daunter is a ruthless chem-baron who has reformed the city's drug empire. He refloods the streets with shimmer and gains the title 'Silco's Heir'.

The Firelights are back in commission after two years of lax, taking down exports just like the days when Silco was still alive.

When the group arrives at an export and finds it already taken down with the barrels drained of shimmer, it becomes apparent that Daunter and his gang aren't the only ones they need to look out for. They had competition. Or... did they?

Ekko finds himself involved in a seemingly endless cat-and-mouse chase with another gang leader-a woman who moves like the wind. He wants to know what her motives are, but he has to catch her first.

LINK: https://www.wattpad.com/story/385476895?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=bellybuttonbooks

COVER:

🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩🧩

SNIPPET OF CHAPTER ONE (not the full chapter):

- Zaun, two years after the conclusion of Arcane

"Fuck—"

It happened again. Their mission had been sabotaged, just like before. Someone had arrived before he and the Firelights had gotten there, Daunter's goons paralyzed and tied up, the barrels drained of shimmer.

Daunter was Zaun's newest chem baron—and currently it's biggest. He reintroduced shimmer to the Lanes, reflooding the streets with the purple drug.

After Silco had died and the undercity got caught up in a battle with Piltover and Noxus, shimmer had been mostly exterminated by Caitlyn and her enforcers. It still lingered in the black market, but mass exports ceased to exist. Until a few months ago, that is. Daunter crept in like slow-forming shadows caused by a rising moon. In increments so small that no one noticed until everything was drenched in its darkness.

This forced the Firelights back into action. But now, there seemed to be someone else who was intent on interrupting Daunter's operations. Ekko would have accepted the help if it wasn't for the fact that they'd taken the shimmer. He couldn't help but suspect that the culprit had ill intentions, and that put them at odds with the Firelights.

"Looks like we got competition," a distorted voice said from beside him.

Ekko turned his head to look at the masked face of Scar, a tall chirean who served as his Lieutenant and second in command. Chireans held bat-like appearances (minus the wings), with large ears, grey-toned skin, bat-like noses, and neon green eyes.

Both men stood atop a nearby roof, out of hearing distance of the restrained goons on the cargo airship.

"More like another enemy," Ekko responded.

Scar processed his leader's remark before speaking again. "You think they got bad intentions?"

"They're up to no good if they're stealing shimmer. Probably selling it themselves to make bank," he said pointedly.

Scar took in Ekko's words. It made sense and sounded like the most likely scenario. Though, one thing stood out to him.

"Why would they tie em' up? They already have em' paralyzed somehow. It's like they're leaving 'em here for someone to arrest or something."

Ekko considered this but had already thought up a reason. "The paralysis might not last long. Could be a precaution."

Scar nodded, agreeing that his reasoning seemed plausible.

"What should we do? Seems we keep missing 'em. Should we put out scouters across the city?"

Ekko exhaled through his nose, mulling over Scar's suggestion. It did sound like a good idea, but he had to also consider the risks. He didn't want to put his people in danger. This wouldn't be like their typical 'element of surprise' mission. This would involve spying, waiting, and watching—usually from the shadows to avoid detection. Despite this, Ekko had faith in the Firelights.

"Yeah. Could assign shifts. But we still need to keep most of our numbers back at the hideout in case of any surprise missions."

Scar agreed. Daunter was becoming more and more unpredictable, and there were times when they had to act quickly, creating plans with only hours to spare.

The conversation between the men ended there and Ekko mounted his aeroglider. He flew over to the transport ship and hopped off the board, sliding it behind his back to attach to the magnetic piece on his coat. He neared Daz, one of the newer Firelights.

Daz was a little on the shorter side, his body mass nothing impressive. But he was quick, and that made up for his size.

"You find anything useful? Anything they might've left behind?"

Daz stood from his crouching position. "Nothing. But this guy says that it was a bunch of people dressed in black wearing cloaks," he said.

The younger male nudged the oversized goon who was laying on the boarded floors of the airship with his booted foot.

Ekko's eyes narrowed in thought from the goon's revelation. He crouched down, deciding to take questioning the brute into his own hands.

"Did you see any faces? Anything?"

Daunter's ruffian shook his head, his double chin jigging as he did so.

"I was lucky to even see 'em in the first place. Bastards were quick as shit, bouncin' all over the place like a bunch 'a damn shimmer addicts."

Ekko stared down at the overweight man for a few moments before standing.

'Was it possible that whoever had done this was also consuming the drug to give themselves a physical advantage?'

Authoritative voices sounded from the distance, pulling him from his thoughts and signaling him and the other firelights that enforcers were nearby. Ekko yanked his aeroglider from behind his back once again, hopping onto it before instructing the other Firelights to follow him out of there.

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Singlemom!OC

Theme: Fluff, a little bit of angst.

N/A: To my dear Pedri's Girls who voted, it's finally here. I'm sorry for not posting it yesterday, but I ended up getting very tired and with some doubts. First about being a "reader" or OC, and I ended up choosing OC because I couldn't write without visualizing someone, and because while I was writing, the image of Hande Erçel came to my mind. Anyway, this is just an introduction, there will be three chapters and a bonus. I hope you like it, and that you fall in love with them as I did.

"I can't believe it, Fer. I can't believe it happened again. When I think everything is going to be fine, something like this happens," Pedri lamented. His brother was already upset with the situation.

"I know, brother, we will get through this, as we always do." Pedri ran his hands over his face. "I need to call mom, she's is worried." Pedri just agreed while his brother walked outside the box. At the same time he left, a little boy entered the private space. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed Pedri.

"You are crying?" The boy cautiously approached Pedri and then kneeled on the floor beside the player, his elbows resting on the sofa where Pedri was sitting. "My father says that men shouldn't cry, but my mother says that only real men cry."

Pedri laughs.

"Your mother is right. Are you alone here?" Pedri looked around looking for any adults, but it was just them. The little boy just nodded and then started looking for something in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing, and soon he was taking off his coat. Pedri noticed the name and number on it. "I liked the choice of shirt." The little boy looked at him, embarrassed.

"here" he finally takes out a handful of M&Ms from his pocket. "Mom and I always eat them when we are sad, and now that you are sad, you will feel better after eating them."

Pedri smiled at how adorable the little boy was and readily accepted the candy; he was too sad to think about his diet.

"Bye I have to go." He watched the little boy put on his jacket again, ready to leave.

"Hey, don't you want me to sign your shirt?"

The little boy looked at him cautiously and uncertainly, and Pedri could see that he was in an internal battle.

"My mother says I shouldn't bother the players"

"It's not a bother; you shared your sweets with me; we're friends now. The little boy's eyes opened so wide that Pedri was afraid they would jump out.

"Serious?" he asked uncertainly. Pedri just nodded and saw the boy's face light up.

"PEDRIIIIIII!!!" He gave an excited scream and ran to the player, hugging him. He was definitely controlling himself before, Pedro thought.

**********************************************

"Hey, do you plan on going to that nightclub again?" Pedri asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible while continuing to do the exercise that the physical trainer gave him.

"What? Are you asking this? I thought these things weren't for you. Ferran mocked.

"It's because he's trying to find the woman he spent the night with," Gavi says, receiving a deadly look from Pedri.

"What, am I lying? You looked at every photo that marked the club's location on social media."

"Seriously Gavira, if you don't shut up..."

Pedri threatens, making the others laugh.

"It seems that only you were affected by the night since you woke up alone in the hotel room" said Ter Stegen, the goalkeeper who had been listening to the entire conversation in silence until now. Pedri looked directly at Gavi, knowing he was responsible for telling the details.

"Seriously, man, I'll never tell you anything again."

"What? I was just trying to help. Knowing if one of them saw the woman you were with that night. If I hadn't seen her, I would have thought it was a hallucination in your head."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the younger man's mockery.

"I know you were upset that you woke up there alone. 

"I wasn't," Pedri said defensively. "It was not a big deal." He said with a shrug, preferring to remain silent while focusing on the strengthening exercises, that it was better to forget the subject, either because Gavi was irritating him or because he had a grain of truth.

Nightclubs were not a place he normally frequented; he always preferred to stay at home watching a series or movie, but he had made an exception that night as he was upset because of the injury and the nasty comments he received, like it was his fault. It ended up that he didn't regret going at all; after all, it led to the best night of his life with the woman he would meet at the bar, and thanks to not consuming alcohol, he had recorded in his mind every detail of that night and the woman.

He remembered the exact moment she entered the place; his eyes immediately stayed on her; her presence attracted him like a magnet; and her long hair fell all over her back and down to her waist. The red lipstick and the huge, sweet smile she had. He remembered her scent and the woman's sharp tongue as he approached, not giving a damn about who he was. He had etched the dimple in her cheek every time she laughed at something he said, and God, her laughter was like music to his ears. He remembered how she pressed her body against his while they were on the dance floor and how all that tension took them both to a hotel room that night. What a night!

"Dude, stop thinking about her while you are with us." Ferran's voice takes Pedri out of his thoughts. Pedri looked at him confused.

"Your cheeks give you away, man," said Gavi, who had a small smile on the corner of his face. Pedri turned to the mirror, noticing the color that appeared on his face.

"Shit", he mumbled, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"Although you met her in a nightclub, maybe you should look in other places, like churches or registry offices." He looked even more confused at Ferran, who had an ironic smile on his face. "You know, considering your history with women who end up being married and everything."

"Seriously, I'm done with you guys." Pedri stood up, moving away from his companions, who were laughing at the situation.

**********************************************"" Fans like to feel close to players, so we can continue investing in content with them in pairs or in groups. We can record some kind of challenge with the boys who have the most friendships about how much they know each other. Fans love knowing these details." The woman said to the social media girl as they walked down the corridor to the meeting room, where the rest of the communication team would be.

"Mom, mom, mom!" She turned, looking at the little boy who was running towards her.

"Hey, honey, what's wrong? Everything is fine?" She bent down to the child's height, who seemed to be in a hurry to be somewhere. "I'll be at the gym with my friend," he said impatiently, about to run again.

"What a friend? There is no place for children there" she said worriedly, placing her hand on her son's head.

"Mom, pleeeaaaase," he said while pulling the woman's bag, looking for something.

"Axel, breathe. What are you looking for?" She asked when her child threw all the things inside her bag on the floor.

"The cards that Grandpa gave me to show my friend, I FOUND." he said excitedly, shaking the cards in his hand.

"Bye mom, I love you." She watched as the boy disappeared down the corridor without even looking back, which made her curious to know who this friend was, and she made a mental checklist to ask when they were leaving. She also added to talking with her son about running around Ciutat Esportiva, she had the opportunity to bring him to work, but she knew it was best not to abuse the luck, even though he was normally a quiet child, these days, he always had to be somewhere.

**********************************************

The sound of Xavi's whistle signaled the end of training. He thanked all of the players, greeting each as they dispersed across the field. Some were already returning to the dressing room, and I remained there along with a few other guys.

"3, 2, 1...." Gavi says. Pedri raise his eyebrows in confusion, looking at him.

"PEDRIIIIIIIIIIII" Rafinha and Ferran say in a thin voice, clearly imitating the little boy who ran onto the field in our direction.

"He took so long to come this time," Gavi says, laughing at the scene. The little boy opens his arms and throws himself at Pedri, who holds him carefully.

"Hey little guy." He put him on the floor, and held out his hand for him to hit.

"Are you ready to play yet?" he asks, raising his eyebrows hopefully and looking the player up and down. It was the question he asked every day since he started showing up at the end of training to visit him, showing all his anxiety about seeing his favorite player return to the field.

"I'm almost there; I'm back to training now, but I'll be ready soon." The child makes a pout.

"My God, he have the same habit of arching the eyebrows and the things you do with your lips. It's too much Pedri for me." Rafinha says, laughing as he walks away. He ruffles the child's hair, and only then does the little one seem to realize the presence of the others. And his cheeks turn red, and then he hides behind Pedri's leg, who bends down and hugs him.

"the red cheeks and all." Are you sure you haven't been messing around?" Gavi continues. Pedri rolls his eyes at his friend, throwing the bottle he was holding at the youngest.

"Hey little guy, there's no need to be ashamed of us; we're cooler than him." Ferran says as he is trying to get the child's attention, making him hides his face in Pedri neck. The number eight smiles mockingly at Ferran, proud of the child's far-from-discreet preference.

"Don't flatter yourself; you didn't see the number he's wearing." Fermin scoffs.

"It's very good taste," Gavi says. Pedri turns the little boy in front of him.

" Axel!!! This is treason," Pedri says indignantly, as he sees the little boy wearing Gavi's number.

"My grandfather chose today. Gavi it's his favorite" he says with a shrug.

" But I like him a lot too." Gavi smiles, convinced, at his friend.

"Of course you like; you're the same size, of course you'll feel affinity." Gavi's smile dies immediately, and he raises the middle finger to Pedri.

"haha, Look who's talking, Pedri."

"Don't you think it's strange that he's here every day? " Pedri asks curiously.

"He must be some employee kid," Fermin concludes. "At most, the brother of one of the teenagers who are outside waiting for photos, he is small, manages to pass the security guards with no problem" They laughed again.

The little boy moves away from the player and looks for something in his pocket, and Pedri already knew what it was; after all, that had become their routine since they started meeting more often, whether in the CE or in the boxes on match days. Axel takes a handful of M&Ms from his pocket to share with the player.

"Just a little this time. My mother is suspicious." His eyes widen at the boy.

"You said your mother gave it to you, Axel," Pedri asks worriedly.

"Well, sometimes she gives it to me. But she says I can't eat all the time."

The boys were trying not to laugh, especially now that the boy was more welcome with them, casually kicking the ball for them.

"Great example, Pedriiiiiii." Ferran scoffs; Pedri rolls his eyes; it wasn't his fault; well, in part yes, it was him who said to the child, "Your mother won't mind if it's just a little."

**********************************************Pedri was sitting with the other players in the press room of the arena where the Barcelona basketball team was playing. They were waiting for the club president to take a photo; after all, it was important for them to see the first-team players supporting the others. While he waited, Pedri looked at the candy store's website on his cell phone, looking for what Axel had told him so much about during the week, about a new type of M&Ms with different flavors that he was dying to try, but it was still out of stock. Occasionally he would look up from his cell phone to respond to something the other players were saying. Gavi was by his side, chatting about something that Pedri could no longer follow due to the rapid changes in subject that the youngest started.

"Hey, guys," Laporta says, entering the conference room. He greeted each of the players who were there, and the staff organized them for the photo. As always, the president would hold the ball, and everyone would be on hand to touch it, in the form of support. After the photo, they start a conversation with the president until the door is opened wide.

"Oh, sorry." I thought they were already finished. Pedri, who had his back to the door in a conversation with Araujo and João Félix, freezes; he would recognize that voice anywhere, and above all, he would recognize the perfume, which hits him like a punch in the stomach. He immediately caught Gavi's eyes, who seemed as surprised as he was.

" The game is about to start, and we need to take some photos of the boys for promotion."

"Of course, we're done here" the president says, laughing. Apart from Gavi, the other boys didn't seem to notice Pedri's reaction, as he finally found the courage to turn around to look at the woman, and God, he felt his breath catch in his lungs.

"Oh, do you already know the boys personally?" Laporta asked the woman who looked up from her cell phone, looking at the other people in the room, and as soon as her eyes fell on him, they tripled in size, but she was quick to hide her surprise.

"No, not yet" she said simply.

"Boys, this is Isa Harver; she is the club's new communications assistant." Laporta introduced them, and she extended her hand to greet each of them. When her hand stopped in front of Pedri, he immediately noticed the ring on the girl's finger.

"Fuck" He heard Gavi saying behind him with a certain humor in his voice. Pedri simply couldn't believe his luck.

******************************************

N/A: SOOOO, I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I revised this chapter a million times, but English is not my first language, so something must have slipped through. Let me know what you think. And for my Gavi's girls, I'm also preparing something for you."

[killerkillerkillher]

Save a Horse, Ride a Sorcerer

Summary: You're a stable hand that helps care for the town horses. You're also romantically involved with most wanted man in the country.

Inclusivity tags: Reader uses he/him pronouns, refers to themself as a man, and has a penis. Some religious references, but Reader beliefs remain undefined.

Cw: Nothing crazy. No sex (this time) but is referenced. Takes place between 1850-1870 USA. You get lots of kisses. First person but NOT an oc, I promise with all my heart <3 mdni!!!

"I won' dat boy strung up and hung, ya' hear me? I say—I said, did you hear me?"

I sit on the inn proach, watching the sheriff wind up a posé of young and blood hungry men. In the deputy's hand is a wanted sign, a well created sketch of this state's most wanted criminal on the forefront of it. The name Satoru Gojo : Wanted Die or Alive is written below it with a heavy reward posted underneath.

Ten grand. A fellow like me could do a hellava lot of things with money like that. Man must have wronged Rockefeller himself to have a fortune that size on his head.

"Folk said he's was due west around midnight. We leave now and we can catch 'em in the town over come sun down." The sheriff's horse shakes its head out, eyes finding me before his human's do. "I trust you'll care for my horses, boy?"

I pull my cigarette from my lip, smoke making the corners of my eyes sting as the white rolls along my face. I toss a half assed salute his way, and he takes it for me being intoxicated and bitter, which is a fine enough response in his book. He takes his party of young and impressionables—they're all broke, jobless, looking to make a name for themselves just as we all are—and rides out of town due west.

When they're a good distance away, I finally stand and slug my way to the stables. The summer heat is killer, a sweat breaking out on my hairline when all I'm doing is walking, and I only get some reprieve when I slide into the stables. The place smells like hot animal, dry grass, piss. I do my best to shovel the horse shit, to turn the dirt and keep the hay fresh, but the stable hand before me was a poor worker and that smell had already clung to the walls long before I had any say. I make my way past the donkeys and the sweet mama mare that came in with a pretty girl on her back a week previous. No, I head for the stall in the far back that's padded up with hay and extra leather supplies.

Tugging open the door, I kick around the hay until my foot hits something softer that an old saddle. Instead of reaching in for it, I pull my leg back and kick it harder. It jumps, groaning in pain as a head of fluffy white hair pokes from the feed. The dastardly criminal, the arrogant bastard, the wickedly handsome, the Satoru Gojo wakes up from a drunken stuper, raising his torso up as he rubs it in pain.

The man has caused me more trouble than he's worth at this point. Hiding him like I do could get me strung up by my toes right beside him if we were caught because the sheriff and every other authority out there wouldn't want to hear from me that I couldn't help myself. Satoru has charm that no one man has any right to have, and he's a walking sin, one that no human has could do justice based on his wanted poster sketches.

They say the devil wanders the earth trying to lure men into sin with promises too sweet, and it's sad to say that if he were anything like Satoru, I would have followed him tripping and stumbling.

"Get up, outlaw." I lean against the stall door, watching him blink away last night's alcoholic haze. For a man as feared as he is, he sure is a light weight. It took one and a half beers to get him flushed in the face, and four to get him tripping over himself. Said something about western drinks hitting harder than the shit from his country, but I wasn't really in the mind to listen to him past that.

"What time is it?" He grunts in a heavy accent, wincing at the light that filters into the stall. He pats around the hay blindly until he finds a set of tinted spectacles to slide onto his nose. "My head... fuck." He massages the dip of his nose.

I look at my pocket watch. "Just bout 2, but I forgot to wind my watch this morning, so give or take a' hour." I wind it as we speak. "Came ta wake you 'cause the sheriff deputy justin' left to head to Bucksteel. You leave now and you could hit the river near Hacienda Nueva by tonight."

"And you?" Satoru hums, an easy smile falling on his flushed lips as he picked straw from his hair—it's funny how easy he shakes off the hangover. He blinks those eyes up at me—pretty blue things that I swear God made by taking pieces of the sky and sticking them right into his irises—like he wants something. Something I certainly can't give.

"Wh'about me? I'm not the one with a fortune on my head. I ain' got a need to run like you do, outlaw." I pull a long drag from my cigarette before pointing at him. "Just get yer ass up and move along before I get in trouble too."

He pushes himself up to his feet, gracefully masking a stumble as he closes the distance between us. I follow his movements, not budging as he slide his arms around my shoulders. I've got to anchor my head back a tad, lips brushing his as he scratches at the base of my scalp. If it were anyone else, I'd tell them to get the hell off me, the summer heat being the biggest cockblock nature could hand us. But it's not. I'd sweat until I melted into a puddle for the taste of Satoru's skin, the feel of his lips, brush of his fingers on my back.

"The road would be better if you were on it with me, you know." He mummers, slipping small chastise kisses between his words. I take the cigarette from my lips and blow the smoke down. He hates the smell of it. I drop it and stomp it out.

"'m sure." With a hand on his nape, I pull him into a proper kiss, lips meshing like they're meant to fit together. Satoru may hate the smell, but he sure loves the taste that burnt tobacco leaves on my tongue. He sucks it into his mouth before mashing our taste buds together. It's sloppy, it's heated, and a string of spit keeps us tied between every breath.

His hands wander, grabbing at my shoulders, the hard earned muscles of my arms, the softer bits of me along my sides. All of it, he's hungry for, and I can't say I'm much better. My hands gravitate to his chest, groping his pecs as the flat of my palm pushes at his nipples.

Like a fire work, it's all hot burning action, sparks glowing and making shivers run through me. But then it's gone, just the same. I make myself pull away—it hurts to ignore Satoru's confused "Ah?" as his tongue still hangs out his mouth, dripping with our mixed saliva with those half lidded eyes—hands sliding down to his waist with plans to stay there.

"Ya gotta go, 'Toru." I urge. If he doesn't, I might just forego my restraint and bend him over against the wall right this moment. Now that would really get us in trouble.

"And here I was hoping for another taste of last night." He pouts.

He'd somehow gotten me into the bar when he rode into town last evening sporting a pack full of cash and an empty stomach. He'd bought half the town drinks, to which would get any man to ignore his bounty if you drowned them in enough liquor. He'd been sweet, throwing me glances and mouthing less than appropriate things across the room as sky had turned dark. His luck would have it that the woman serving my table thought she'd been the one on the receiving end of his flirts. That'd sparked the two of them flirting, which not only stepped on my nerves but her father's too. Daddy sheriff didn't like his daughter blushing pink and pretty for the fiendish foreigner outlaw, leading me having to cover for his ass again. He ended his night sleeping in a horse stable while the sheriff and his men searched for him, maybe or maybe not after receiving a jealous dick down from myself.

I never considered myself the jealous type before, but a man has his limits. Though, it's probably a futile effort. Like pirate has a woman at every port, I'm sure I'm just sending him away to another bed warmer over in Hacienda Nueva.

"Come on now," he tugs as the sleeves of my shirt. "Do I have go and talk to what's-her-face to get you all worked up again?"

"Ya mean Lottie?" I laugh, pressing my forehead to his. "You talked to her half the night and can' even remember her name?"

"Someone fucked me so hard I forgot it." He grins back. I grip his sides harder, and he takes that as a sign to lean back in for a kiss. I peck his lips, then lift him by the waist and move him out the stall.

"A'right, lover boy. Yer losin' daylight."

"I'm losing you." He sounds upset, tone edged with a genuine ring that it rarely carries. It's hard to tell with him sometimes. I've heard him use that tone in the past just before shooting someone in the back when they decided to give him grace. There's no telling when he might turn on me after sounding so soft.

"'m not going anywhere." I huff, pulling his gelding from its stall. It's nostrils flair before it bumps its head to mine in greeting. I pat it's cheek, feeling it's newly sleek coat. The poor thing needed a sponge bath after he came with cakes of mud in his fur and his hooves in a dangerous state. Gojo is lucky I know how to handle a horse, or his would be far worse off. "And if I do, it won' be far. You'd find me."

Satoru stays quiet as I secure a saddle into the gelding's back and brush its hair from its face. I can feel his eyes on my back, then his hands around my waist before he's slotting himself against me. Huffing a sigh, I gently loosen his grip so I can turn in his hold.

"Yer thoughts 're loud, outlaw. I can hear 'em from out h're." I cup his cheek. He's got skin softer than its got any right to be, so soft I'm sure sweet Lottie would be jealous. Thumb running along his jutted out lips, I kiss it to make it slip back into place. "None of that. Quicker you go, quicker you'll be back." I assure him.

He frowns, but nods anyway, and starts to fish something from one of his saddle bags. An envelope is suddenly between us and pressed to my chest.

"For you." That frown softens. I take it and flip it open. If I didn't stop myself, half the town would have heard me hollering from the sight of a thin stack of money shoved inside. The bills are crisp and straight like they came right from the mint, or like they'd been ironed into uniform neatness. This is the most money I've ever seen in one place.

"What the hell is this, Gojo?" I hiss, shoving the envelope back to his chest. The outlaw rolls his eyes before laughing.

"Only you would get mad at a gift like that." He hums fondly, pressing a kiss to my nose. I wrinkle it, cheeks heating up at the unusual sweet treatment. "Won't you let me take care a ya'?"

"People don' "take care" of men like me. You'd do better giving this to that bar girl's daddy and begging for his forgiveness."

"Let me be the first then." He kisses my nose again, my cheek, under my ear. I doubt it's pleasant. I'm caked in sweat and dirt and tobacco stink, but he kisses me like I'm something sweeter than life and he'd do anything not to stop. It's not treatment I get often. Most look at me and see grit, all rough desert rock and room temperature whisky coated afternoons. Few ride through here wanting me, and fewer still want anything more than a warm man in their bed. Satoru continues to prove himself an ugly duck by not looking at me the same.

"If I can't pamper you on the road, I'll do it here." He hums against me neck. "When I find you next, you better be in a better town than this one, stud." He finally pulls away with a wistful smile. "Where should I find ya'?"

"I said 'm not—"

"Humor me. If I come back in a month and see you ain' here, where would you be?"

I roll my jaw, thinking over whether it's really worth telling him. Of course it is. Who wouldn't want someone out there pining for them, for the next time they'll meet.

"The west. Rumors have it there's a few gold mines popping up and word hasn't reached the east coast yet. You look for me and you'll find me in a mining town. Webber's Creek'll be yer bes' bet."

"I got it." He pecks my lips one more time before slipping his foot into a stirrup and pulling himself up by the saddle horn. I pat his thigh, and guide him to the back of the stables and out the back door. "Next time I find you, I'll have enough money to buy you that cabin and farm you wanted."

"And the three piece suit too?" I muse. He talks like the envelope in my pocket couldn't do just that.

"That too. We can stay the winter there and hide from the world." He's smiling big at that thought, and I'm ashamed to say I am too. "Maybe get a dog."

"You've got big dreams, Satoru." I still as the sun beats down on us, squinting out at the desert plains. Gojo gazes at me from atop his horse with those sparkling sky blues, and bends at the hip to lift my chin. I push up on my toes and meet him mid way in an quick, heart wretchening kiss.

"Your dreams are my dreams, stud." He whispers against my lips. My heart skips and falls, slipping down into my gut where is kicks and wriggles happily. This is a story that'll end in heartbreak, I know it. I shouldn't get so worked over a man that could be shot dead by tomorrow, and the only way I'd find out would be from the absence of his wanted posters on the saloon news board. He's bad for me, will make me sick in the end. But those honeyed words of his are just enough to keep me stuck.

"Sweet talker." I laugh, though my humor really isn't in it. Shoving him back, I take a step away. We keep near each other like that and we'll get attached at the mouth again, never to say goodbye. "Get on now, I'm getting tired of saying it."

"Sure thing." He slips off his spectacles and tugs his bandana up from his neck to cover his eyes. He tugs a wide rim black hat from his saddle pack next and secures it on his head.

"I'll be seeing you," He grins. I lean back against the stable and fish my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I wave at him with the box in hand and unlit tobacco in my mouth.

"Either in Webber's Creek or hell, outlaw."

I stand there, watching him grab his reins and stir his gelding up and out of town. He doesn't turn back—never does—and I don't look away until he's a tiny speck getting washed away in the blurring waves of heat.

Finally, I take that envelope inside with me, and with an old brittle donkey looking over my shoulder, count out exactly how much he gave me.

Five hundred dollars, lined up in a thin, glossy row of one hundred dollar bills. It's more than I've made in the 9 years I've spent traveling, and I'm sure if I showed this to my ruddy cheeked sixteen year old self, he'd faint. Satoru meant it when he said he wanted me out of this dead-end town, because if anyone here found I was carrying cash like this, they'd beat and rob me on the spot. Now I really have to leave, maybe find a bank that can break all of this down into smaller bills for me.

I sigh and look over my shoulder at Daisy the donkey. "How far you reckon you could take me on those legs of yours?" The old girl blinks slowly, clueless.

I'll have to go and steal a horse then since there's no ranch within a few miles of here. My palm rubs into my eye until I'm seeing colours. Give it to Satoru for turning a series of flings into an entire new journey for me. He's got me whipped past saving, and I can't help but think again that Satoru Gojo is far more trouble than what he's worth.

An: chapter 2 is written and will star Nanami, Yuuji, and a secret third person. Will publish... eventually...

[lo1k-diamonds]

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.”

[hellsslibrary]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NSFW Alphabet with Ruggie Bucchi˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

DNI : minors.

#a.n. : I promise this is the last change in post design. I'll leave it for a few months, not days, really. (´。＿。｀)

!!Warnings : sub!bottom!Ruggie, breeding kink, teasing, praise/humiliation kink, toys, oral sex, light feminization, bratty behavior, male reader.

Jack <————«« Ruggie »»————> Leona

Savanaclaw. Ruggie Bucchi.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He is probably tired. His fatigue is not critical, but it is still fatigue. But I see him as much as possible as a person (beastman?) who desperately needs your praise and care after sex. Like, hell, he's definitely a brat, so he needs to make sure you're not angry or something.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Well... His favorite part of you is probably your whole face(?). He is definitely a person who loves to tease. So to see how your face is distorted in one emotion or another is a great joy for him.

And his favorite part of his body is definitely his legs. Well, in the end, thanks to his childhood, he is very good at using his legs to avoid problems, so they are definitely chiseled and muscular (although still thin thanks to his physique in general).

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He cums a little at a time, and bringing him to an orgasm that is too intense is quite difficult, if possible in principle. And his sperm is more liquid than the average.

Well... He loves when you cum inside him. Who in their right mind would think otherwise? He is an animal hybrid after all.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mmm, I guess he'd like to seriously get pregnant by you (if it wasn't for the biological make-up, of course. But if your OC is someone who can impregnate someone regardless of gender, drop it here or not lol, mine too anyway). Like, really, he would like to have about two children (puppies?), and provide them with a better life than he had. And he just loves the idea that you could seriously impregnate him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He's... a virgin, yes. But he definitely knows a lot. Like really a lot. Because judging by the stories and articles from the Internet about what is happening in such areas where he lived, then he should have observed sex of other people at least once in his life.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Well... Any position where he can see your face, out of obvious love for your face, as I mentioned earlier.

Oh yes, he definitely does. He loves to tease or make fun of you during sex. It seems that at one moment you calmly fuck, and then he shouts out some strange and vulgar thing.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don't think he's too hairy in general, so he doesn't have much hair there either. And they are even lighter than on drapes, so he does not see the need to clean them up somehow.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Nah, he's not a romantic, really. Perhaps, after advancing your relationship in the future, he will become a romantic one way or another, but not soon for sure. For him, sex is just the satisfaction of your needs.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't have time for this, lol. Although sometimes, very rarely, he may do this while he takes a shower, but this happens extremely rarely.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink (no, I'm not making it easy for myself by sticking this kink with everyone in Savanaclaw, they're a beasts, I have the right to). I've already explained this, so let's move on. Well... Besides the obvious kink of praise, he definitely has a kink of humiliation (although don't touch on his finances and don't call him "poor", please). And maybe he has a kink for feminization/crossdressing. He likes to dress up for you sometimes, so he doesn't mind it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Mmm, he doesn't mind any place, to be honest. But I think his favorite would be any place in nature. Forest, field, some clearing. Something like that.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whispers turn him on! Your whisper, to be exact. I think he has very good hearing, so when you lean into his ear and whisper anything to him, pleasant goosebumps run through his body, and blood rushes to his dick. But he is quite easily excitable, speaking in general.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

As I mentioned earlier, no way, no way really, don't mention his financial situation and his childhood anyway. Also, I guess he wouldn't like it if you even teasingly said something like "Maybe I should find someone who is better than you at (something) or for me in general."

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Oh, he definitely love more to give. He loves to suck you off, especially if you fuck his throat while doing it. It's just so exciting how rough you are with him.

On his own I think he'd love more if you teased him anyway. Just lick his cock from time to time or lick his rim? Yes, something like that. He loves to cum from your cock in him more than oral.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely fast and rough. He loves rough, wild and in a sense animal sex. Although he is in the mood for something more sensual, he still prefers rough sex.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yes, this happens quite often. He ends up incredibly busy with these things of his, so you both often have a quick fuck in some closets/empty classrooms/toilets and so on. His attitude is quite positive, sex is sex anyway.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is very very like that, yes. Like he's ready for a lot, really. He knows how to take risks and experiment if you, he or both of you want it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He certainly has a huge stamina, thanks to his childhood. So it lasts incredibly long and long. Maybe 7-15 rounds?

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes, just yes. He loves when he has free time to send you this or that photo / video where he uses some kind of toy on himself and writes something like "oh, now if it was you, it would be better, but unfortunately it's not you ;b".

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

He loves, he's one of the strongest teasers out there, no matter how, he'll do it if it makes you horny and possibly punish him for it later.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He... 7/10? He's quite loud, although if he's on its edge it can be about 9/10.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

It has extremely sensitive ears and tail. If you scratch behind his ear for long enough, he might even get a boner. The same goes for its tail, especially its base.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Muscular, especially in the legs, body, but he is still quite thin. Perhaps there are a few scars here and there. As for his cock... Strict 4 inches / 10 centimeters. And he's definitely not circumcised.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a high libido, but not extremely high. But he still wants you all the time. He can just think of you at any time and he can feel himself shrinking around the void in anguish.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

It depends absolutely on you. If you want to sleep, then of course. But if not, then he is ready to stay awake. But not for long, he still wants to sleep very much.

[chairofchaos]

Always An Angel; Never A God

Pairing: Eris &* OC (Alastair) Summary: Eris grapples with his thoughts about a bargain made by his mother.Rating: Teen Word Count: 1.6k Tags & Warnings: Angst. Domestic violence and abuse are core topics in this work, because of the overshadowing presence of Beron Vanserra. A/N: See end of post for full author's note. *"&" indicates that it is a platonic pairing/set of characters.

He had seen the fight coming. Of course, he knew his favorite coat was his father’s least favorite. His words were not polished or poised enough for the oldest son of a high lord. It was not enough, never enough to please Beron. 

The scorch marks on his sleeve wouldn’t be fixed. It didn’t matter that his mother had bought him the coat for his birthday, or that his aunt had done her best to spell it to be resistant to flame.

Eris could not withstand his father, no matter how much others tried to protect him. 

The dinner had been fine. Acceptable, by all accounts. Eris had spoken to the mother of the girl, no more than a child, really, who sat across from him. His father had placed him there intentionally, not because the girl or her mother were important in any way, but to reinforce that he was not.

The girl’s father sat beside Eris’ and paid no attention to his wife or child. He flirted with Eris’ mother. He wouldn’t pay for that until Eris came to power, but he would, since it was Carmina Vanserra who would pay for it tonight.

The sound of clinking glass and a splash of liquid brought him back to the dim light of the sitting room. Eris gazed out the window, barely feeling the press of the glass in his hand, his friend’s silhouette blocking the faint light from the candles in the hallway. 

“Any injuries?”

Eris sipped the drink. “None visible.”

“It’s always that way, isn’t it? Game of chess?”

Eris shook his head. “No.”

Alastair sighed. “If you always mope, you’ll never feel better.”

“If I don’t mourn, don’t I become complicit?”

“If you are, what does that mean for the rest of us?”

The night was cool, and the moon was high, its sickle poised to raze the forest over which it hung. He could see himself in those trees, his laughter carrying on the breeze to where he stood in his mother’s stead, a frown rather than a smile on his face.

“Don’t we owe it to her?”

“Of course we do.”

“How do you set it aside so easily? She raised you, too, as much as your own family did,” Eris asked, turning to set his empty glass on the table between the armchairs where Alastair reclined, his glass in his hand. He gestured absently towards the fireplace in silent demand, then polished off his drink. Eris blinked, and the wood lit with a blaze, another destruction in which he would find himself complicit. One day, one day.

Alastair leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. “She made that bargain of her own volition.”

“He’s getting stronger.”

“So are you.”

“It’s taking her with him.”

“That was the bargain.”

“I need to sleep.”

“If you try, will you?”

Eris bit his retort back. Alastair had seen him wander the halls in the middle of their childhood nights. On occasion, he’d joined him, the two of them in night clothes, their feet padding against the wooden floors to sneak out into the darkness and light the world ablaze with fire and rain storms, Eris’ flames shooting like lightning through Alastair’s clouds which shrouded them from view.

One such night had brought them here, the freedom of their powers having buried them in this living tomb, strangled by a choice neither of them would ever make and a promise they would never fulfill. The sickle moon, taunting him with each passing day.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he had told his mother the last time she had come for tea. She waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the scars which the movement exposed on her arm. 

“It wasn’t your choice to make.”

“He hurts you, more now than ever before.”

“And he will not lay a hand on you.”

Eris hadn’t told her the damage had already been done, that the initial promise his father had made to her when he was a child had not been kept, and that Beron held it over his head for thirty years while he tortured others in Eris’ stead.

“So others must suffer?”

“Better them than you,” Carmina had said softly. When he met her gaze, her eyes were hard, their burnished gold lit with a fire Eris rarely saw lit anymore, another destruction to fuel his fire. He had said nothing, and after a moment, turned the talk to the weather.

Alastair cleared his throat. “I could use a real walk.”

“Alright.” Eris took the three steps forward to stand beside his friend. “Lead the way.”

Alastair snorted, turning his eyes up to Eris. “I think that’s your job now.”

Eris’ stomach turned. He was thankful his friend couldn’t see the despair which crossed his face at the sight of the clouds in the eyes which had been blue, a rarity among the Autumn Court nobility, the biggest sign that Alastair’s father had not been of this court. Eris made himself breathe a small laugh. “Let’s go.”

It had been ten years since Beron had performed the spell which removed Alastair’s sight and Alastair had been dumped on Eris’ doorstep, dried streaks of bloody tears on his cheeks where they had streamed down his face. The lack of color in his eyes since that night served as Eris’ reminder of all he owed to his childhood friend, and the darkness which awaited him for all he had allowed to happen.

“I warned you,” his mother had hissed as Eris dragged Alastair’s body inside. “I told you what he would do.”

“Mother, please help him,” Eris had begged. 

“I cannot save him,” Carmina’s hand pressed to her chest, “even if I had the power to.”

“Why?”

“The bargain.”

The bargain. Always the bargain, the tattoo which graced the space over his mother’s heart, which shielded her from feeling, from involvement. That flame burned his skin as much as it did hers.

So Eris had cared for Alastair. Until he couldn’t anymore.

“Promise me,” Alastair had asked him when he woke. “Promise me you’ll stay out of it, no matter what happens.” He wouldn’t relent, no matter how Eris deflected, how he avoided the promptings.

Now, they stepped out the door together, a warm coat draped around Alastair’s shoulders. The bite of cold pressed into Eris’ upper arm where the scorch marks were. ‘So it goes,’ he thought.

After fire came cold nothingness, the emptiness of wrath spent on the deserving and undeserving alike. He knew it all too well.

“What was it this time?” Alastair asked. Wisps of clouds danced across the ground around them, parting only as they walked through, a single line left behind them.

“The guest of honor flirted with her all night. She was tactful. Either way, he would have been displeased. She couldn’t offend the guest. She couldn’t flirt back, either. She was stuck.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“If only he were,” Eris mused. “Maybe then I could unseat him.”

“You’ll get your revenge one day.”

“It won’t be soon enough to save us.”

Alastair said nothing. Eris could hear the faint cracking of leaves beneath his feet. The call of an owl in the forest to his left reached his ears, and he sighed. What could it hurt, to join them in this forest every night? To know the call of the owl, and the scent of the trees, as if they were a part of him, and he a part of all of them, living under the threat of the blade above their heads?

“Remind me, what was the phrasing of the bargain?”

“It won’t help you to go over this again,” Alastair reminded him. They stepped onto the forest path, Alastair staying close beside Eris to follow where his friend stepped.

“I know. Indulge me.”

“‘Eris is to remain safe from you and anyone you control. You, and those you control, will not harm him. You may not make a deal which could result in harm to him. In return, I will give you my power, freely and without reserve, as your carranam, until the day of my natural death. I will not request your power in return. I will not act against your interests. If either of us breaks this bond, we will suffer immediate death.’”

Eris tried to focus on the words, but they were fuzzy. Spoken in his presence, but so many years ago that he could not find them in himself. Alastair reminded him, when he wished to hear them, but it never helped.

“There’s no way out,” Eris murmured. 

“For any of us,” Alastair remarked. His voice was flat. “It was your saving.”

“And your undoing.”

“I suppose.”

“I can’t even wish he was dead, because it means she goes, too.”

“Death isn’t so bad.” When Eris said nothing, Alastair went on. “It’s freeing.”

Eris focused on the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet, the path winding up the hill away from the stream. “And what of those left behind?”

“They survive, in their own ways.”

Eris emerged into a clearing. “Is it really surviving?”

The sickle moon emerged overhead, its light brighter here atop the hill, the darkness of the forest between him and his home striking a contrast against the gleam of a large white headstone in the center of the glade. Eris paused. It was undisturbed, the marbled pattern a reflection of the fog which surrounded it in the cool night.

“Am I surviving? I never wanted to do this without you, carranam.” Alastair gave no answer as Eris knelt beside his headstone, the penitent at an altar of grief. He placed the coat by the headstone. “For you. If it’s cold.”

Eris lay his head atop the coat and stared at the sky, the moon burning into his eyes until he hoped he, too, would go blind with death. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Alastair.”

The fog blew across his face, brushing against his cheek in the night as if, on the other side of the cloudy veil, someone wished him a good night, too.

A/N: A huge thank you to the mods @erisweekofficial for putting together this week! I'm so glad we all get to celebrate our autumn prince together, and incredibly thankful to be a part of my first Eris Week. Thank you to @tsunami-of-tears for all of the beautiful Eris Week dividers (you can find them here!). Last, but certainly not least, thank you to @dusk-muse and @ninthcircleofprythian for the super last minute beta read, brainstorming and coming up with titles with/for me, and for never actually attempting to kill me at the end of a fic. I hope you all enjoyed it! All my love, Chaos

Taglist: (if you ever want to hop on the taglist train, whether for a character, a pairing, or all of it, lmk! and if I fail to include you, I probably didn't see it or messed up some admin thing, so give me a holler in asks or another comment!) @dusk-muse @ninthcircleofprythian @lilah-asteria @c-starstuff-man0 @unanswered-stars

[cinnamongorll]

Wildflower - chapter 1

read on ao3 🤍 next chapter 🤍 masterlist 🤍 Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC Synopsis: Joel Miller is an infuriating constant in Alex’s life. As her dad’s best friend and smuggling partner, she can’t seem to avoid him no matter how hard she tries.  When a weapons trade off goes wrong and Alex becomes the next target in a dangerous revenge vendetta, Joel is forced to uphold the promise he made to his friend to protect his daughter from the dangers of the post-apocalyptic world. But when Alex and Joel reluctantly grow closer, and she starts to peel back the layers of animosity between them, Alex realises that nothing is what it seems and that trusting Joel might be more dangerous than anything outside the QZ walls. Series tags: dbf!Joel, age gap (Joel is late 49, FMC is 26), older man/younger woman, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mean Joel, protective Joel, dark Joel, sexual tension, smut, mutual pining, feral Joel, first person pov, angst, more tags to be added, ultraviolence Joel. Word count: 4.9k

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Chapter 1:

“Alex, honey, can you pass my gun?” my dad calls over his shoulder while he bends over his worn, stuffed rucksack. 

I straighten on the couch, pulling myself from whatever daze I was lost in. My focus flicks to the cushion beside me and the weapon that rests on it, and I narrow my eyes at the casualness of my dad’s request. Guns and ammo were a feature of the apartment, practically as common as the dust and bedbugs, and yet my skin still itches as my hand wraps around the gun, the cool metal sending a spark of fear across my body.

I look to the window. It’s dark, curfew is already in place. The apartment is lit by a singular flickering bulb in the corner lampshade, and the constant flashing makes my head feel like it's going to burst. I’d already worked a ten hour shift at the market, where the sun beat down on my unshaded stall, plastering me in sweat, and all I wanted to do was climb under the frigid water in our shower and pass out on my sorry excuse for a mattress. 

But instead, I’m holding a gun. 

With my other hand, I push myself off the musty couch, peppered with holes and blotched with stains I never want to know the origins of. When I'm standing, I find it difficult to move my feet. They’re rooted in place with the knowledge that my dad is leaving again, going on another smuggling trip with his partner. These are the days I dread; when he walks out that door, I never know if he’s going to walk back through it. 

The thought occurs to me that if I refuse to give him his gun then maybe he won’t leave, maybe he’ll be forced to stay. Maybe he’ll stay safe. 

“Alex?” my dad repeats, now standing opposite the coffee table, staring at me with his eyebrows raised. 

I tilt my chin up and reluctantly stretch out my arm, letting the gun dangle from my grip. My dad’s eyes lift from the weapon hanging between us to my awaiting eyes and his shoulders stiffen. I must have forgotten to wipe the disgust off my face.

“How long this time?” I ask through gritted teeth as he carefully takes the gun from me and my arm drops back to my side like I’d just narrowly avoided being burned by a potential fire. 

My dad sighs and pockets the gun, then swings his head around to catch a glance at the apartment door. When his eyes return to me I can see the worry carving deeper lines into his forehead. 

Joel was late. 

His irritation dilutes as he scans my face, and his expression begins to soften. My hands curl into fists by my side. 

“Not long, few days at most,” he answers in a pitying tone, as though I was the one who was leaving the safety of the QZ to risk my life for another job. 

I blow out a breath and turn, stalking with heavy steps towards the kitchen table. I swipe a glass from the hardwood surface as I pass, revelling in the sound it makes as it strikes off the edge. It’s the closest I’d get to expressing the anger that was building in my blood.

“You’ve said that before,” I mutter, but my words are lost in the water that rushes into my glass when I forcefully twist the tap. 

A month he was gone the last time, bypassing “just a few days” by a longshot. My eyes hit the ceiling as I stay shielded from his gaze, then I lift the full glass to my lips and take a long drink before turning back around. 

“Just be careful, okay?” I caution when my back hits the countertop and my eyes find his awaiting stare. 

The sad, pitying smile returns to his lips and I start counting backwards from ten. 

“Always am,” he attests with a firm nod.

My lips part with the pressure to voice the screaming concerns in my head, to tell him that the job isn’t worth it, that it’s lonely here without him, that one day his luck is going to run out and I’m going to be the one to pay the price. 

But none of it comes out, because before I can even consider it, a quick knock attacks the apartment door and my head turns towards it with the speed of an incoming bullet.

My dad’s sigh is loud and his footsteps are eager as he makes his way to the door and aligns his eye with the peephole, even though we both know who’s standing on the other side. I hope, for a second, that I’m wrong, that Joel’s decided not to come this time.

The spark of awareness that rushes my skin as the door opens tells me that, unfortunately, Joel is a man of his word.

“What took you so goddamn long?” my dad grumbles as he steps backwards to let Joel brush past him before he double locks the door. 

The glass squeaks in my hand as my grip tightens. Joel Miller is standing about six feet away from me, turned in the other direction, forcing me to witness the way his hair is drenched with rain and curled slightly at the top of his neck.

He stands with his large hands perching petulantly on his hips and his shoulders tight. Joel shakes his head sharply before he speaks. 

“Fuckin’ enforcers everywhere tonight, had to wait them out,” he explains as his eyes flick to the window just as a truck rumbles past, illuminating the apartment with the threat of a spotlight in the street below.

“Shit,” my dad curses as his head follows the sound.

Joel makes an impatient noise and jerks his chin in the direction of the door. “We gotta get movin’” 

The worries that wait on my lips, existing in the space between being voiced and swallowed, start to build and I feel myself struggling to force them back down my throat. Leaving the QZ was already a death sentence when there wasn’t a large enforcer presence on the streets, but with those spotlights scanning every inch of this city… they’d be lucky to get two steps out the door. 

My dad is bent over his bag again, ammo in hand as he shares it with Joel. Their quiet conversation is muffled by the thoughts churning in my mind and I feel a sense of dread settle deep in my stomach. 

My glass hits the countertop with a dull thud and the water splashes over my fingers. I flinch and inhale sharply when Joel’s head suddenly swings towards me, acknowledging my presence for the first time since he walked through the door. His dark eyes are hard and his expression is one of reluctant curiosity. I instinctually press my back harder into the edge of the countertop, at the mercy of his cold attention.

My heartbeat stutters when he quirks an eyebrow and slowly, so carefully, crosses his arms over his chest in a way that makes it impossible for my eyes to avoid noticing the muscles straining under his damp shirt. His jaw moves in another act of impatience as he seemingly waits for an apology or explanation for so rudely pulling his attention away from more important matters. 

Recovering from my momentary shock, I shake the water off my fingers and push myself from the countertop as I avoid Joel’s pointed stare. I start to make my way towards my dad, who still focuses on his packing and is ignorant to the battle of wills taking place across the room. 

I’m unsurprised, however, when a hand wraps around my upper arm, halting all movements. 

The breath that exits my mouth is shaky and I want to kick myself. Grudgingly, I lift my head to meet Joel’s furrowed brow and surveillant eyes.

“You got somethin’ to say, you say it,” he orders, his voice dangerous and husky like a knife being dragged over a ragged edge. 

At his demand for my words, my mouth instantly goes dry and I consider never speaking again. 

Joel was always getting under my skin, reminding me that he’s the reason my dad is away for days, weeks, months at a time and comes home with cuts and bruises that he refuses to talk about. Joel Miller has his teeth in my dad, making him believe that he likes this life.  

My jaw clenches with tooth crushing pressure. 

I shrug out of Joel’s grip and, surprisingly, he lets me go with one last searching look across my face. Released from his hold, I stumble as I attempt to step around his hulking figure and I clench my fists so tight that my nails begin to dig into my palm when I hear his snearing laugh rumble in response. 

“Dad,” I bite out, the ire in my voice is fueled by the irritation of Joel’s presence hanging behind me. 

My dad stands with a loud grunt and swings his rucksack over his shoulder, wincing as the weight settles on an old injury. The fight in me dies at the sight.

“What?” he asks and looks down at his watch. 

I cross my arms over my chest and straighten my spine.

“Don’t go,” I plead as I step closer to him, forcing him to look at me. “Not tonight at least, it’s too dangerous with all the enforcers hanging around.” 

There was that pity again, shining so clearly in his eyes, he didn’t even try to hide it. His poor, lonely, daughter was worried about him, what else was new? I could practically see the thought floating through his mind. 

“Honey…” he trails off and I watch as his focus darts to the man behind me. Help me out here, my dad silently asks his friend with his quick shrug.

The anger I’ve been holding back all day, since my dad told me he’d be leaving again, finally reaches its breaking point and I feel the blood under my skin start to boil, bringing a flush to my cheeks. 

“What?” I demand, raising my voice so it doesn’t tremble. “What is so important that you have to get out of the QZ again?” 

My dad’s lips thin and his gaze flicks between me and Joel. 

The groan that comes out of my mouth is overly childish and I would be embarrassed about it if I weren’t so annoyed. When my dad doesn’t answer, I lose my patience and whip my head around to face the man behind me, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes as I tighten my crossed arms. 

Joel looks down at me with a fury that rivals my own. I know I’m fighting a losing battle, I know that nothing I say is going to change their minds, but I can’t ignore this dread in my stomach. 

If I’ve already lost, I’m going down swinging. 

My anger is directed at Joel, as it often is. I find him in my apartment more often than I can handle. I come home from work and he’s there, at the kitchen table, scheming up plans with my dad that neither of them ever share. I know they sell drugs around the QZ, I’ve seen Joel lingering around dark alleyways with small bags of white between his fingers. I don’t care what he does, but I don’t want this life for my dad. 

“Can’t you handle a deal by yourself for once?” I challenge the man in front of me, and I force not to retreat when his dark eyes slide down my body, sizing me up. 

“Alex,” my dad pleads from behind me with a sigh, exasperated. He’s heard all this before. I hear him turn and walk over to the radio, leaving us to fight it out. 

“You don’t have a clue what you’re talkin’ about,” Joel accuses, and his hands land on his hips again. I can see the impatience vibrating on his skin. 

A laugh escapes my lips and I fight against the urge to roll my eyes. 

I uncross my arms and my voice drops lower as I inch closer, chin tilting up until I’m so close I can smell the rain drying on his skin. “What is it this time? Oxy? Coke?” I ask.

Joel’s lips draw back and his eyes narrow as I watch that rage he usually keeps locked up start to rattle at the bars. 

A hint of a smile twitches at my lips before I dangle the bait over the cage: “Can’t fund your own habit? Need to bring my dad into it too?” 

His hand flashes out to grab my wrist before I even notice the movement. Joel uses his hold to tug me even closer until the front of my body is flush with his. My breath catches in my throat, held back by the fearful realisation that maybe I’ve gone too far. 

Joel glowers down at me, his eyes surveying my features like he’s gathering evidence in a case he’s building against me. I’m frozen, entirely at the mercy of his burning hot judgement. 

I watch with wide eyes as his gaze darts behind me, probably checking that my dad is still focused on the radio before his mouth drops to my ear and his breath feeds the flush on my skin. 

“You wanna act like a child?” he murmurs as his other hand grasps my chin, increasing his custody of my attention. My heart is beating so fast I’m sure he can feel it against his chest. 

He’s waiting on a response to his snide question. I don’t give him one. 

I can feel the sick smile on his lips as it brushes the shell of my ear and I shiver as my eyes shutter closed. 

“Maybe I’ll have to take you with us then, keep you by my side so you don’t get into any trouble,” Joel taunts and images of me leaving the QZ, being out in the world with infected and raiders, cross my vision and fear spikes in my bloodstream. My eyes flash open and I struggle out of Joel’s grip, stumbling backwards as heavy breaths escape my mouth.

Joel rubs a hand over his jaw, looking down at me with a satisfied expression. He succeeded in frightening his friend’s daughter, the war has now ended. 

“It’s just a weapons deal, anyway,” Joel reveals when his hand leaves his face and drops back to his side. His fingers begin to drum against the dark material of his jeans as his lips turn up and amusement dances in his eyes. “But I appreciate the concern for my ‘habit’, sweetheart,” he drawls. 

My hands curl into tight fists as I feel my dad walk up behind me. I force myself to swallow down every bit of anger that Joel unleashed. He isn’t worth my rage, I remind myself. 

“Everythin’ okay?” my dad asks cautiously as strides past to the door and begins to fiddle with the locks. 

I look up at Joel and want, so desperately, to wipe that smug expression off his face but, instead, I release a slow calming breath and meet his eyes.  

“Yeah, dad,” I say cheerfully, not breaking eye contact with Joel, even when his eyebrows furrow and his shoulders tighten. “I was just reminding Joel to be careful out there, neither of you are young men,” I add with a laugh. 

My dad chuckles and slaps me on the shoulder. The movement slices through the strange thread holding me in Joel’s gaze, and I turn towards the door with a feeling of disappointment I’m unable to explain. I shake it off as Joel and my dad go through their last few checks, then the apartment door is open and I draw my lip between my teeth, biting down hard. 

“See you in a few days, honey,” my dad murmurs against my forehead. I sigh and pull him in for a hug, trying to hold back the urge to beg him to stay. 

Joel stands by the door, his hand gripping the edge as he holds it open, impatience dripping from him again and I get some satisfaction from the way his foot taps on the floor. 

“Try and fix that bulb while I’m gone, it’s given’ me a headache,” my dad says over his shoulder as he walks through the doorway, wincing when the flickering light casts over his face. 

I roll my eyes and look away, then turn to make my way towards that much needed shower I’ve been dreaming about since I got home, pushing down the worries that are still lodged in my throat. But just as I start to walk away, a hand on my arm stops me, gentler this time without the same threat, and I inhale a sharp breath when I look up to find Joel pinning me with that dark stare again.

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid,” he warns, pupils flaring. 

Then, before I can process his words and attempt to understand where this sudden concern has come from… he’s gone.

I stumble forward to lock the door and drop my head to rest on the cold wood as I fight to catch my breath. 

Eventually, once Joel and my dad’s footsteps disappear down the wall, I finally peel myself from the door and walk to the bathroom to find solace in the shock of the freezing water sputtering from the broken shower head. 

But not even the frigid water could erase the heat that lingered on my skin even hours later from the vice-like grip of Joel’s hand.  

………………………………………… 

The sun streams through the window when I open my eyes, making the room I’m lying in look far more worn and dishevelled than it did when I went to sleep.

I groan and throw a hand over my face, turning away from the reminder that another day has begun in the Boston QZ. In a few minutes, I’ll have to untangle myself from my sheets, drag myself off the mattress and mentally prepare myself for another shift at the markets.

The apartment is quiet without my dad, he’s not standing in the kitchen counting his ration cards and mocking me for wanting another five minutes of sleep. 

I lift my hand away from my eyes and push myself up, feeling the weight of those lost hours I spent staring out the window last night. They’re fine, I tell myself. They’re safe. 

I walk to the bathroom, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to erase the tension that’s creeping into my spine. The monotonous tasks involved in getting ready help to distract me from thoughts of my dad and whether he got out of the QZ okay. I brush my teeth, throw water over my face and try to control the frizzy mess that my hair transformed into overnight. 

Not long after, my boots are on and I’m out the door, splashing through last night’s puddles as I trudge along the pavement, dragging the bag of clothes I’ve been tasked with selling. Joel gets them from his friends Bill and Frank, they live outside the QZ and always seem to have a limitless stock of essential items. At first I rebelled against Joel’s order to sell the old jeans and jackets at the markets, irritated at the implication that I’d be joining this “crime ring” he was creating, but it beat shovelling shit so I agreed. 

The markets aren’t far from our apartment so it’s not long before I arrive, slowing my pace as I navigate through the many tables and their workers setting up their goods for the day. My stall is near the end of the row, away from the worst of the crowds but it still gets a good amount of business. 

I tap my foot on the ground in a repeated nervous gesture as I wait for customers to find their way to my stall. The majority of clothes stay under the table, in black bags, hidden from any enforcers who might look my way. The stock on the table has to look like I just happened upon these clothes, maybe I decided I didn’t want them anymore, maybe a neighbour threw them out…

It didn’t matter much anyways, even if an enforcer noticed it was unlikely they’d say something. This city ran on the black market, those dressed in black with shotguns under their arms were just as complicit as anyone else, but appearances still mattered.

“How much for the jacket?” an older man grunts out in an almost illegible mutter, appearing before me as his hand runs over the plaid material.

I blink up at him, suddenly noticing how busy the markets have gotten. I can hear a screaming child a few stalls along from me and I feel that headache forming again. 

“Five,” I say, rubbing my eyes. 

I hear the man make a dismissive noise with his tongue and I internally groan. I didn’t have the energy to barter this morning. 

I sigh as I drop my hands back to the table. “Four, then.”

That gets a smile growing on his face, revealing a wide toothless grin. The man nods and hands over the ration cards before he gathers up the jacket and tucks it under his arm. 

“Nice doin’ business with you,” I mutter as I count the four cards and watch as the old man stumbles along to the next stall.  

With the ration cards tucked safely in my pocket, I roll up my sleeves and cross my arms, leaning back in my chair as I settle in for a long day. 

The screaming starts up again and I flinch, somehow it seems louder this time and I wonder what terrible injustice has befallen this child. Reluctantly, I lean forward and turn my head in its direction just as another, deeper, scream joins in. Fear slams into me and I stand quickly, pushing my chair back as I round the edge of my stall.

The slow moving crowd picks up speed and the flow of people start to head towards the square opposite the markets. I stand on my toes to get a better look just as a man staggers into me from behind and I lose my balance, tipping to the side. I catch myself on the edge of the next stall and my head whips in the man’s direction.

“Hey! Watch it!” I shout at his back as he races through the crowd, disappearing as people start to push and shove their way to the end of the markets.

What?

My ears are buzzing from the chatter that surrounds me and I begin to turn in circles, trying to catch hold of peoples’ conversations in an attempt to understand what was going on here and calm my racing heartbeat, but every word just fallsl through my fingers. 

I look back at my stall, now abandoned at the edge of a crowd that was heading in the opposite direction. I grit my teeth and allow myself to get swept up in the rush. I don't know what’s going on. 

As I reach the edge of the markets, I see the old man I sold the jacket to staggering to keep up with the speed of the mob, clutching his new purchase to his chest. 

I elbow my way through until I reach out and grip his arm, holding him up. “Hey, you alright?” I shout over the noise. “Do you know what’s happening?” 

The man looks up at me, eyes wide and unfocused. My breaths rush out in quick gasps as I struggle to keep a hold of him as the crowd drags us further down the street. 

From the corner of my eye, I see him lift his trembling hand to his neck and I frown, flashing my focus between him and the mob around us. He’s staring at me as his hand makes a wrapping motion around his neck then pulls an invisible rope. 

My feet stop so abruptly that I’m knocked forward by the person behind me and I stumble, letting go of the man’s arm as I fall into the woman in front of me. 

“I’m sorry,” I gasp out as she shakes me off and I stagger to gain proper footing. I can barely hear my own voice, everything is muffled, I just keep moving, allowing myself to get dragged along like a boat about to drop off the edge of a cliff.

It can’t be, I think. They haven’t done public executions in a while, things have been calm.

My breaths are rapid and uncontrolled as I round the corner and…

I see my dad’s boots, the ones I fixed for him a couple months ago. They’re on the feet of one of the men who hang from the gallows and, at first, I can’t figure out why that is. My dad was just wearing them last night when he -  

My hands slam over my mouth as I stagger to a complete stop. I can feel several elbows dig into my sides and I’m pushed in several directions but I don’t dare move. I can’t move at all because my heart stops beating, every muscle in my body locks in place and I feel my ribs begin to shrink, pressuring my lungs to stop their inhale.

I force my bleary eyes to climb up his body, past the bloodstains that dampen his clothes, all the way up until they land on his face. 

When I was younger I found a bird who’d broken its neck. It was lying on the ground, twitching and trying to flutter its wings. I remember thinking how strange it was that his head was bent at such an angle, like someone had ripped it off and tried to stick it back on but couldn’t remember how it was supposed to look. 

That’s how I knew my dad’s neck was broken, only, unlike the bird, he wasn’t moving, he was entirely still. 

I drop my hands as I feel a scream begin to claw its way up my throat and I open my mouth to let it out.

But not a single sound is unleashed. A hand covers my mouth, blocking the exhibition of my horror from exiting my body. 

Fear plunges through me, displacing the shock momentarily as I feel another hand land on my shoulder and the firm grip over my mouth pulls me into a hard body. 

My eyes are wide, screaming for me when my mouth can’t and I begin to thrash against the person that holds me. 

“Alex, stop, listen to me,” the man grunts out when my elbow meets his chest.

I freeze. I know that voice. 

“Don’t scream,” he orders and lets go of my mouth before he whirls my body until i’m face to face with him. 

“Joel?” I croak, surprised that the scream doesn’t find its way out of my throat despite his heavy warning. 

I’ve never seen Joel so unkempt. His hair is plastered to his head, coated in sweat or water, I couldn’t tell. His eyes, always so cold and inscrutable, were wide and stricken. 

“My dad,” I choked out, feeling bile rise in my throat. 

Joel’s hands leave my shoulders to cup my face, forcing me to look up at him.

“You gotta listen to me,” he demands in a low voice that I struggle to hear over the screaming around me. I want to join these people in their grief but Joel increases the pressure on my face and I nod, using him as the anchor to stop myself from drowning. 

“There’s a sniper on top of the building to your left, and one in the building behind you,” Joel reveals, his voice sharp and steady. I feel my legs begin to give out and Joel shakes me a little to keep my focus directed at him. “Only reason we’re not dead right now is cause we’re in this crowd. But the second you start rushin’ forward and makin’ a scene, they’re gonna find you and shoot us down.” 

My hands reach up to cup the backs of his hands, my fingers are trembling when they meet his skin. “What do we do?” I ask. My brain has started to disassociate, as long as my back is turned to the horror behind me I can start to pretend that it's not real. 

A muscle in Joel’s jaw jumps as his eyes lift up to the left, before darting back to me. “I’m gonna get us out of this, but you gotta trust me” he says slowly, his lips barely moving. “Can you do that?” 

I hear the uncertainty in his voice. Trust is a foreign concept when I think of Joel, and he feels the exact same way. 

Fear has taken over my body, every inch of me is trembling. Joel’s thumb begins to rub against my jaw and my eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his calloused skin. 

“Alex,” he prompts, “can you do that?” 

I open my eyes into the deep brown staring down at me. 

“Yes.”

___________________________________

Hey! Hope you enjoyed chapter one! I'm off to France for a week so chapter two won't be up for a little while, sorry 🤍

[estrellacercadelvolcan]

Elaine's December Reading List (Christmas/Winter/New Year)

So, in the last few days, I started reading Christmas and Winter Fics. Those are absolutely amazing, and I'm at awe at the talent these authors possess. I had a lot of fun reading the stories, and because of this, I started making this "Christmas/Winter/New Year reading list". On the one hand, I wanted to thank the writers and give back some love. On the other hand, I hope that other people will see this list and come to love the Fics and authors as much as I do. (Besides that, through this list, I won't ever lose the stories ever again🤭)

I'm not sure if anyone will see this list, but just in case:

Please note that these stories aren't mine! Credits go to all these lovely authors. If anyone should see this and read the Fics, please show them some love.

The Fics are separated according to the different characters (Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Lloyd Hansen & Logan Howlett). Besides that, I listed the title and author. (The word count, genre indicator and my own thoughts are also sometimes listed.)

In the last few days I started the logging and commenting on the Fics, but due to life I didn't have the time yet to do this for every FIC on this list, but I'm still planning on doing this. Please be patient with me.

Be assured that I LOVE every single one of these amazing stories. Thank you to all the authors for writing and sharing them with us!♥️

Happy reading! ❤️

Bucky Barnes

Midnights kisses & Confetti Thieves @angrythingstarlight

Mafia!Bucky x reader | 1.5K | fluff, implied smut

A Soldier's Second Chance @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Bucky Barnes x Reader | 5 parts | Bucky deserves to be happy & all the Love ❤️

It's Cold Outside @navybrat817

Bucky Barnesx x F. Reader | over 700 | slight Angst | So beautiful

Your first Christmas together @navybrat817

Bucky Barnes x Reader | smut Someone give me that for Christmas please. Naughty Christmas 🤭

From me to you @retrosabers

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | 2.4k | some angst, fluff

Jingle Bells a little different @buckyalpine

Bucky Barnes x F. Reader | smut

All I want is you @buck-star

BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!F. Reader | fluff

How to cure a grump @holylulusworld

CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x F.Reader | 5 parts | angst, fluff | Fake Dating

Snowball Fight @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!f. Reader | 1.1k | fluff, implied/referenced sex

A Snowstorm, a Grump, and a Game @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

Christmas Chaos @mugglebornmarvelite

Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!F. Reader | 1.1k | fluff | Grumpy x Sunshine

The mistletoe tradition @witchywithwhiskey

Intern!Bucky Barnes x Boss!F. Reader | 4.5k |

Wishes come true @mercurial-chuckles

Bucky Barnes x reader |fluff

3-2-1 @holylulusworld

Post!Endgame Bucky Barnes x Reader |slight angst, fluff

Loki

All I want for Christmas @lokisgoodgirl

Avenger!Loki x F. Reader | 1.7K | fluff, mild angst

I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas @joyful-enchantress

Loki x F. Reader | 2k | fluff, humor, slight angst

In the Bleak Midwinter @lokisgoodgirl

Loki x Reader | 3.4K | fluff

Mistletoe Mayhem @tilltheendwilliwrite

Loki x Reader | 3825 | fluff My personal must read for christmas

Slipping between future and past @muddyorbsblr

 Timeslipping TVA!Loki x F. Reader/ OC Talía Williams | 3.8k | smut

The Golden Yule Hunt @societyfolklore

Loki x Asgardian Female Reader | 3.2K | smut

A Midgardian Christmas @just-the-hiddles

Loki x Reader | six parts

Man of the month @muddyorbsblr & @mochie85

Loki x F. Reader | 12 parts + Outtakes | smut, fluff, angst

I absolutely love this masterpiece and can't tell you how often I already reread it.

Secret notes @muddyorbsblr

Loki x F.Reader | 8 parts | fluff, slight angst

Birthday magic @holdmytesseract

Loki x F. Reader | 1.9 k | fluff, slight smut

Unrequited @glitchquake

Loki x F.Reader | fluff, hint to smut, slight angst

Day 18: Mistletoe @gremlin-girly

Loki x gn. Reader | fluff | established relationship

Steve Rogers

Santa Baby @brunchable

Steve Rogers x F. Reader | fluff

First Christmas @navybrat817

Steve Rogers x Reader | 100 | fluff

Winter Wonderland @biteofcherry

Dom!Steve Rogers x Plus Size F. Reader | fluff

Wise men say! @mercurial-chuckles

Steve Rogers x Reader | 99 | fluff

This time of year @witchywithwhiskey

Friend!Steve Rogers x F.Reader | 11.9k | fluff, light angst, smut

Logan Howlett

Last Christmas @pandapetals

Logan Howlett x F. Reader | angst, fluff

Ari Levinson

Ari's and Sunshine's first Christmas @angrythingstarlight

Biker!Ari Levinson x F. Reader

Cold fingers, warm hands @witchywithwhiskey

Ari Levinson x F. Reader | 1K | f So fluffy and cozy

Bad Santa @holylulusworld

Santa!Ari Levinson x Naughty Lister !Reader x Jack Frost!Steve Rogers

Cross-Country Christmas @cevansbrat0007

Bounty Hunter!Ari Levinson x F. Reader| angst, smut

Ransom Drysdale

A Christmas Compromise @stargazingfangirl18

Ransom Drysdale x F. Reader | 5478 | smut

His cookie @buck-star

BestFriend!Ransom Drysdale x BestFriend! F. Reader | 1157 | fluff, some allusions to sexual wording

Lloyd Hansen

Wetnessday Anon's Ask to Siri @stargazingfangirl18

Lloyd Hansen x F. Reader

Jack O'Malley

Tricked @thezombieprostitute

Jack O'Malley & F. Reader

The Avengers

A Christmas Carol @sycamorelibrary754

The Avengers x reader (platonic) | 4.6k | mentions of past trauma, grief and death

I wish every single one of you a very happy Christmas!💜🎄