#and like even before they would always watch me draw I see to do like private streams for them and Blake

[ivy-elle]

"What are you even talking about?"

Or: How they react to you being overly intoxicated aka drunk af

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Notes: No mentions of vomiting, do not worry

“You… are like totally the most beautiful being on this earth. How is that even legal?”

Your drunk-hazed gaze looks up at him, an admiring, nearly even mesmerised expression on your face.

Albedo stifles a surprised laugh behind a cough, his fist concealing his soft smile. “Thank you, y/n. Why don’t you sit down first?”

Obediently, you follow along as he gently guides you to the couch, the slight grin not wanting to leave your face. Even less, when he crouches down in front of you, studying you with intent focus. He can’t help the slight concern slipping into his expression as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

Meanwhile, you seem to have the time of your life with him being so close to you, with his gentle touch, like you’re something delicate.

How is it even real that you are able to call him your friend – let alone your partner. Like, your very own!

Just the way his crystal-like eyes follow yours, his shimmering hair catching the faint light of the room, down to how pretty his lips move when he speaks…

Wait. Right. He speaks. Listen.

Focus.

Right.

“If you’re able to eat right now, I suggest getting some carbohydrates into your system, my love,” he explains, gently tilting your face. “That way we can nudge your blood level back to normal again.”

You barely contain a silly giggle at his tender touch. “I’d eat straight-up eat wheat right now if you asked me to.”

Albedo nods, very slowly, his brows furrowing as he ponders about how to handle this situation best. “I see. Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” And yet, a part of him can’t help but be fascinated by your responses. “Would you be satisfied with some toast instead?”

You hum airily, but the moment he lifts himself up you feel your face fall into a pout, immediately missing his warmth.

“Wait,” you quickly try to prevent him from leaving. “On second thought – I am not even that hungry. You can keep staying here. Sitting.”

“I will remain here.” He slips his fingers from yours, a smile tugging his lips. “See? I am just across the room.” You should eat something to prevent some serious hungover.”

You watch him quietly, nearly enchanted by his smooth movements as he prepares some snacks, listening to his soothing voice. Has he always had this effect on you? You can’t tell. You can’t even care less right now.

“Personally, I’ve never experienced a hangover myself, but it starts right after the alcohol level in your blood starts to drop. And given your state…” He offers you a plate with some fresh toast and light fruits, “I presume it’s best to take precautions now.”

“Thank you,” you murmur fondly, accepting the plate. To your relief, Albedo joins you on the couch.

“Slowly. Take your time.”

“Maybe I was starving a bit. Archons, this is good.”

Albedo chuckles softly, gently taking your hand in his. You feel his thumb lightly tracing along your wrist before it settles on your pulse.

Your turn toward him, tilting your head in confusion. “I am still alive. I think.”

His eyes crinkle, soft musing laced in his voice. “Yes, I can see that, my love. I am merely checking your heart rate.”

Albedo looks you over and the moment your eyes meet his again, you feel your heart rate slightly quicken beneath his fingers.

His frown turns into a soft smile. “You’re feeling alright?”

“If you keep touching me this way, I’ll feel even better.” You hum, your eyes drifting to his lips.

But before you can follow your impulses, Albedo draws back, gently pushing you back by your shoulder. “Forgive me, love, but I’d rather you be sober first.”

Now you can’t help but pout, your face scrunching up. “That’s a bit excessive.”

Amused but persisting, he shakes his head, but not before leaning in and to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Eat up. I’ll set up some tea and antidote for your headache.”

“I see you’ve lost your mind entirely,” Scaramouche remarks dryly as he halts at the doorway.

“Shhh. I need to focus,” you murmur, not even bothering to look up from where you’re lying on the ground. The room is cloaked in darkness - all windows are drawn shut to prevent any lights from falling inside, and disturbing work of art.

Scaramouche’s gaze darts to the perfectly good bed right beside you. Why, in Teyvat’s name, would you prefer the cold, hard floor? Hasn’t his day been eventful enough as it is already?

“Look at this,” you whisper again, and Scaramouche raises an eyebrow as your Electro Vision flickers to life again. His eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling, where charged threads of Electro dance in a chaotic disorder, illuminating the room in soft purple light. But your attention is glued on the lights, absolutely fascinated by this spectacle.

He steps closer, a pinched expression on his face. “Why don’t you-“

Before he can finish, you reach out, snatching his wrist and pulling him down next to you.

“Look!” you repeat once more.

Obviously, you’re only able to actually move him, because he lets you. But he does not lay down on the ground – who do you think he is? Instead, he crouches down next to you, fixing you with a look, like you’ve lost it entirely. His eyes narrow as he notices your abnormally flushed face, grasping that something is not quite right with you.

But you’re completely ignoring his unsettled expression, rather lifting your hand again to tilt his chin upward, directing his to the ceiling. “Listen to the sky, Scara,” you explain in a tone like it’s supposed to clear up everything.

Listen to the sky?

Scaramouche’s eyes dart down to you again, irritation building up inside him now. He dislikes this - having you physically here, but at the same time you not acting like yourself.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Your eyebrows scrunch up as you turn your head toward him, like you’re pouting that he isn’t taking your lightning show as serious as he should. “You’re always complaining how fake the sky of Teyvat is. So, I recreated it. Now you have your own. Or, my own. Like – ours, I guess.”

For the sake of his pride, Scaramouche quickly schools his face. A strange combination of confusion, irritation and at the same time a strange warmth settles in his chest. His eyes flicker over your slightly dazed features.

“You’re drunk,” he states flatly, trying to sound unbothered.

For that he earns yet another. “Shhh!” This time a small, but sheepish grin tugs at your lips.

For a moment his eyes linger on you, before he tears them away, letting his gaze return to the ceiling. Now that he’s seeing the purple mist of electro from this angle, your perspective…

“How fake can it be, if I created it myself?”

At the sound of your gentle whisper, he feels his resolve weakening, eyes flickering between the charged branches, now finally taking form on the ceiling.

You created … a sky. For him alone.

Then, even softer, as if to not drive him away, you add, “Sometimes you need to be a bit intoxicated to see the world differently.”

Scaramouche stretches his legs out, leaning back on his elbows. “The ground was the best solution you had?” But there is no real bite in his voice, he is way too immersed in the little universe you’ve created in the room.

For him, his own Electro Delusion has always been nothing more than a tool – a means to gain power. To destroy. Yet, here you are again, showing him the other side of the coin, proving, that in destruction lies its own universe of creation.

“You smell nice,” he hears you mutter suddenly, breaking him through his trails of thoughts.

Of course, you’d say something like this right now. Without looking at you, He doesn’t look at you the corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. You, on the other hand, have had better days.”

You gasp, pushing him away lightly. “Rude! I do not smell bad!”

“You reek of alcohol. It’s onerous.”

He hears you grumble something incoherent under your breath, slurring the words into a mess.

Unimpressed, he clicks his tongue. “Consequences of your own actions.”

But as you shift to stand back up, the electro particles above start to dissolve as well. Almost immediately, his hand grabs your wrist, holding you close. “Stay down.”

You stare at him. Then you blink once. Twice. And then a shit-eating-grin spreads on your lips. “Oho! So, you do like my sky. Ha!”

A scoff escapes him as he tries to act nonchalant and averts his eyes back to the ceiling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I simply prefer not having you stumbling around the room like a drunk sailor, just because you don’t know your limits. Which seem to be quite low.”

You sit back down, not without grouching a quiet “Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

The two of you glare at each other, daring the other to say something. Eventually, you relent, rising your hands and bringing the lighting to life once more.

Scaramouche remains quiet, savouring your presence for a second longer. Before he looks back at the stars again.

Who needs a fake sky, if a whole universe is right there beside him already?

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 3)

The room falls silent, realisation dawns on Y/N, “Jinx?”  She remembers how her girlfriend had told her of her past, her mistakes, how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend.  She didn’t mean to of course but it happened.  Caitlyn can only nod as she watches the tears fall from her eyes.  “I’m sorry Y/N” Caitlyn’s voice fills with sadness as she carefully treads over to her sister who is frozen in her spot, chest heaving as she clutches her shirt.  “A-and dad?” 

“He’s alive and well”  she sends a reassuring smile to her now fragile sister.  With this Y/N collapses to her knees with Caitlyn surging forward to catch her, letting her sob into her shoulder.  Caitlyn holds her close, trying to comfort her, the weight of their shared grief is palpable, and Caitlyn can feel her own emotions welling up in response.

After some time Y/N’s sobs die down to broken whimpers, she pulls back to meet her sister’s eyes, “I’m sorry smalz” she manages through her tears.  Caitlyn hand tenderly cups the younger one’s cheek, wiping away the never-ending steam of tears, “it’s okay, I’m sorry too” her voice soft and assuring.  “I know you’re only just finding out but please…don’t hate Jinx, I have a feeling you know what happened”  Y/N nods, her tears slowing down, “As much as it hurts I can’t hate her, I love her too much”  she buries her head in Caitlyn’s chest.

“You know, I remember the first time she told me about one of her biggest regrets…she told me how she killed the mother of her sister’s girlfriend” she sniffles before continuing, “I kept thinking it must have been painful to carry that weight, I kept reassuring her that we’ve all done things we regret, hurt those who mean the most to us” 

Caitlyn tightens her arms around her little sister, wishing she could take away all her pain.  “I mean hell, do I even deserve to mourn mother after all the things I’ve done?”  Y/N mumbles with a pang in her heart.  “Hey none of that” Caitlyn pulls Y/N’s head from her chest guiding her eyes to her own, “regardless of what you have or haven’t done, she was still your mother” Her tender hands cupping Y/N's face.

The two sit in comfortable silence, the occasional tear escaping but quick to be swept away by the other’s hand.  “Do you think she would hate who I’ve become?” Y/N whispers causing her sister to chuckle.  “No but she would loathe your appearance”  she tries to brighten the mood, eliciting a chuckle form Y/N. “Of course, ‘no scion of the Kiramman name shall be seen in public looking like a vagabond’ “ Y/N mocks drawing out a laugh from both sisters.  “oh how I hated her lectures on appearance” Y/N groans throwing her head back.  “And yet between the two of us you were always dressed elegantly”  Caitlyn teases, “Only to avoid being suffocated in dresses” Y/N shivers in disgust at the thought causing Caitlyn to laugh once more.  “Oh and don’t forget the hair”  Caitlyn chuckles. 

��She would be devastated to see you cut your hair so short”  Caitlyn smiles whilst running her fingers through her sister’s now short yet neat hair.  “I can imagine the lecture I would receive about it, something along the lines of, ‘a Kiramman woman must be elegant and beautiful, not run around looking broody like a man’” the two laugh imagining their mother lecturing them. 

The laughter slowly dies down, “She never forgot about you, even kept your room exactly the same”  Caitlyn spoke in the silence.  Y/N looks down, slowly pulling out a pocket watch with the Kiramman crest, the silver shining brightly against the light.  Y/N stared at it before carefully opening it revealing a family photo when they we much younger, “I never thought I’d be back here, I could always picture the look of sadness on her face, and it broke me time and time again.”  Y/N’s words were raw, her voice hoars as a lump formed in her throat.

She pulls her little sister in for another hug, her presence calming her once more. “You ready to go out there?”  Caitlyn gestures to the door, both women knowing their girlfriends we on the other side and had possibly heard the whole fight.  “Does it make a difference whether I am or not?”  Y/N shakes her head as Caitlyn gets to her feet offering a hand to the younger of the two.  “Now or never” Caitlyn continues, “Yeah, I owe her an explanation”  Y/N looks down sombrely, “She has always been so honest with me about her past, about what she had done…I’m a hypocrite”  Y/N takes the hand offered to her, rising to her feet, now standing almost a head taller than her sister. 

They head to the door together before exiting the room, feeling eyes on her Y/N looks up, Y/E/C meeting pink.  “Hey” Jinx says softly, stepping forward as she picks at her nails.  “Toots I’m so sorry I-“ Jinx is cut off with a chaste kiss. 

“It hurts but it was a long time ago, neither of us knew that it was my mother” Y/N reassures with tear glossed eyes.

Y/N takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of trepidation, glancing at Caitlyn who nods encouragingly.  “Maybe we should sit for this”  She leads them back to the small living room where they had all previously been in, taking residence on the small table whilst Caitlyn and Vi share a chair leaving Jinx to use the other positioned in front of Y/N.

“Do you remember what I told you about my past?”  Y/N asks Jinx, taking her hands in her own, fiddling with her fingers.  “I mean it wasn’t a lot just that you were different from your family and that you didn’t belong” Jinx’s hand reaches up to cup Y/N’s cheek to comfort her the latter leaning into the warmth. 

“Precisely, I am the second born Kiramman daughter, my mother is” Y/N pauses, letting out a sigh, “was council woman Cassandra Kiramman, Caitlyn is my elder sister however…we do not share the same father”  Both Caitlyn and Y/N looks to each other for reassurance.

“Many of the people affiliated with my family begun to look down at my mother, saying she was unfaithful.  It was plain out obvious that I was not human, after all what human child had pointed ears and a tail?”  At this Vi looks up confused, “Tail?”  she tilts her head as the other three chuckle.  “Yes, I have a tail, I prefer to tuck it away” Y/N smiles at Vi who nods in understanding.

“As I was saying, my birth had tarnished my mother and the Kiramman name, it wasn’t her fault but yet she had to live with the consequences” Y/N’s frustration grew but Jinx was there to dissipate it, her touch along grounded her.  “My father he…he forced himself on my mother and as a result I was conceived”  Y/N finishes looking down with tears in her eyes.

“Caitlyn was the legitimate child of the Kiramman blood line whilst I was the half breed baseborn”   Tears slowly escape with Jinx being quick to wipe them away guiding her to look her in the eye.  “It’s okay toots, I’ve got you”  she comforted with a small smile.  “I desperately tried to bring pride to our family name but I was forever the burden, don’t get me wrong my family loved me unconditionally, even Tobius raised me as his own, but it didn’t change the fact that whilst I was present my family would be shunned” 

“Y/N” Caitlyn chokes out, her heart breaks hearing how her sister truly feels, Y/N was always the rock between the two, always eager to support her sister in any way possible, the strong one.  And now, now to hear that her little sister was breaking truly hurt her. 

Y/N looks over to Caitlyn, their eyes meeting, “The only way to save the family was for me to disappear, make everyone believe I was truly gone.  And so I did…I faked my death and fled the city, swore I’d never come back” The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fireplace.  Caitlyn’s face was etched with pain and regret, her eyes welling up with tears.  Vi’s expression is a mix of shock and compassion, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face.

Jinx slowly pulls her lover into her arms, Y/N quick to nuzzle into her neck trying her best not to completely break down. 

Other Parts

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Drowning his sorrow until he forget

Warning ⚠️; Alcohol abuse, grief, Shanks getting drunk Spoiler for Red

Pairing; Shanks/Male!Reader

Summary; After such tragedy, Shank came to your island, to your bar in the hope of forgetting. You can only watch him lose himself in your bottles as he denies the reality. You can do nothing, but watch and listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain fell heavily against the window and the wind howled outside. As you dried your glasses, you watched the trees bend with each blow from the wind, wondering if they would break. Sometimes, lightning would strike, illuminating the sky before thunder would follow and you'd feel its rumble deep in your chest.

For a moment, you wondered if the sky was crying, grieving someone.

But it was ridiculous. The sky was just the sky, it had no feeling and no one would be important enough for it to cry. Yet, you felt a heaviness on your shoulders. Something had happened and you just didn't know what yet.

Your eyes fell on the Den Den Mushi and your mind turned to Shanks. It had been a while since you had seen him. Your lover, your boyfriend… he was something more, something that had no word. Yes, it had been a while since the last time he had come to see you.

Maybe you should give him a call, make sure everything was alright?

You didn't had to. The door to your pub opened abruptly even if it was locked. You turned your head, ready to curse and throw the intruder out only to be met with Shanks. The man stood tall, soaked to the bone. For the first time, you felt fear looking at him. His eyes were dead, empty and you knew, you just knew something bad had happened.

- “Shanks?” Your voice shook as you stepped from behind the counter and walked up to him. “What…”

- “I need a drink. The strongest you got.” He replied, walking pass you as if he didn't truly see you.

You blinked and turned to watch him sat at the counter, head low. You looked outside, expecting the rest of the crew, but there was no one else. You closed the door and went to serve Shanks.

Drink after drink, Shanks emptied your bottles with no sign of the alcohol affecting him. You tried to talk, make him tell you what happened, but the red-haired man stayed quiet. At some point, you took his wrist in your hand and squeezed it. Shanks’ empty eyes looked at you, through you.

- “Shanks, what happened?” You asked slowly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “Talk to me, you worry me right now.”

- “Nothing. Nothing happened.” Shanks told you, but there was sadness in the emptiness of his voice.

- “Clearly, something did happen. Is the crew alright?”

- “They are all fine.”

You grew frustrated but said nothing. Whatever happened, it impacted Shanks like nothing else before, but if it wasn't the crew who was it? Luffy? No, if something had happened to him you would know, every papers, everyone would be talking about.

It wasn't Ace or White Beard, the anniversary of their death wasn't close.

Besides you and Luffy, Shanks didn't had anyone else…

His daughter.

Uta.

You felt your blood turn to ice at the thought of something happening to his daughter. She was his treasure and he did and sacrificed so much for her. You couldn't imagine a world were she wasn't there even if she must be angry at him.

Your eyes met Shanks’ and he looked down on his drink before he drank it all in one gulp.

Yes. Something had happened to Uta.

- “Uta… its Uta isn't it?”

Under your fingers, you felt him tensing up. It wasn't flesh under your touch, but stone. Shanks’ eyes turned dark, darker than you ever saw, even if it only lasted for a second before sadness replaced it, then emptiness again. He shook his head and freed his wrist from your grip as he took the bottle and drank from it.

- “Uta is fine. She is fine… she’s always going to be fine.” Shanks mumbled like a broken disk.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin against his head and closed your eyes. You had no words, not knowing what to say anymore. His reaction was all you needed to know you were right, but his made it impossible to know just how bad the situation was.

Was Uta alive?

Was she... dead?

In your embrace, you felt Shanks relax, melt even as he rested his head against your chest. You passed your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And for hours you stayed like that, Shanks drinking in your arms and you just cuddling him, trying to make him feel better.

As he got drunker Shanks began reminiscing about the past. Like the day he found Uta, the same way Roger had found him. His first meeting with Luffy and the day he introduced Uta to him. The first time she sang, the day she ate her devil fruit and all the little things he was proud of her.

You felt his shoulders shake before you realized he was crying. You held him tighter, nuzzling your nose in his hair and closed your eyes, just letting him talk. Shanks let go of the bottle he was drinking, his hand finding your arm and he squeezed it, hard. Hard enough that you knew he would leave a mark.

- “It's my fault. Always my fault. I just fuck up all the time and hurt her when I just want to protect her.” Shanks whispered, voice breaking through his sobs.

You held him tighter, hands clenching at his clothes. He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, now crying silently and you knew. You just knew.

Uta was no longer alive and, somehow, Shanks was part of the reason.

You didn't had to ask how or what happened to her, Shanks told you himself. He explained about what she did, what she wanted to do and how she ate that damned mushroom that prevented her from sleeping. She had refused the antidote and broke the bottle.

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of sweet Uta doing all that, plunging people in a deep sleep and controlling them with her singing. It was horrifying and so much unlike her. But it had been years since you last saw your stepdaughter after all. People change as they grow up.

But Uta?

You looked down, taking in the poor state in which Shanks was. Empty bottles surrounded the both of you and your reserve was now almost completely empty, but you didn't care. You brushed your fingers in his hair and Shanks looked up at you, eyes as red as his hair and puffy.

- “It wasn't your fault, Shanks. Uta was a grown woman, she knew better. She was old enough to make her choices.” You said, trying to keep your voice soft. Shanks tried to speak, but you put a finger on his lips to keep him quiet. “You made your choices and they had consequences, yes, but they didn't put her in danger. You kept her safe, safe away from the Gorosei and the World Government, but also from your enemies. Should you have told her the truth? Maybe, but she was a small child Shanks. She would have taken it like she was a monster.”

Your fingers brushed his lips and cheek and Shanks nuzzled his face in your hand. You stroke his cheek with your thumb, resting your forehead against his as he closed his eyes.

- “I am sorry. So, so sorry my love for what happened to her, but you did your best. You are a good dad.” You said, lips brushing against his. “At last, in the end, she forgave you. She loved you as much as you loved her.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and you dried them. Seeing Shanks so sad, so broken, you hated it. You wanted to wrap him in a warm blanket and keep him in your arms forever. But you couldn't shield him from the pain of losing his child. You could only offer him support.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. Shanks wrapped his arm around you, hand squeezing your hip.

- “C’mon. Enough drinking for now, because I don't have much left for you. Let's get you a warm bath, you are in need of it.”

Shanks nodded and didn't resist when you led him upstairs. You made sure the water was hotter than warm, pouring in oils and bubbles for him to relax. You helped Shanks in after undressing him, your fingers brushing over some bruises as he sat in the bath.

His expression was still empty, broken and you knew it would be a long journey for him to get better. You thought about closing the pub and following him on his adventures. Maybe by being by his side you could help him.

You took your time washing Shanks’ body and hair. All that time, your lover said nothing and just looked down. His body was tense, muscles hard as if he was ready to bounce and fight, but there was no danger. You massaged his shoulders and slowly, Shanks relaxed once again.

You gave more attention to his missing arm, massaging what was left of it. Your fingers traced the scars and you remembered the day he came to you, hiding it as if you would think less of him. You had, of course, been horrified at first, thinking something horrible had happened. But when he told you the story, you had only laughed.

As you massaged what was left of his arm, Shanks turned his head and looked at you. He had a small but soft smile on his lips as if he was amused. You looked at him, chuckling.

- “What?” You asked with a chuckle

- “Sometimes I feel like you love that arm more than me.” He said, drunk, but clearly amused.

You flicked his forehead and laughed.

- “Its part of you, you idiot. Of course, I love it as much as I love you.” You replied, caressing his neck.

Getting Shanks out of the bath proved to be one hell of a task. He was drunker than earlier, the alcohol finally catching with him, meaning he was as graceful as a tree rolling down a hill and so limp it was like holding a plastic bag full of water.

But you managed to dry him up and get him to bed. You wrapped Shanks like a sad burrito in warm blankets before laying down next to him. Shanks had closed his eyes, but you could tell he was still awake.

- “I am not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingers brushing his face. “Give me a few days to close the pub and I’ll follow you.”

That got Shanks attention and he opened his eyes. They were clouded by alcohol, but also hopeful. You smiled, fingers brushing his lips as he spoke softly.

- “Really?”

- “Yeah. You, me, the crew… up for a new adventure. Been years since I took off, you'll have to give me some slack and a place in your bed.”

He laughed. A true laugh coming from deep in his chest as he nodded. Pulling his good arm out of the burrito, he took your hand and you squeezed it gently.

His heart and soul were broken, but you were hopeful he would get better soon. You fell asleep at the same time as him, knowing you made the right choice.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 24: The Black Lake | word count: 786 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Nearly the entire population of Hogwarts is enjoying the warm summer weather on the grounds. Most of them are crowded around the shores of the Black Lake, talking with friends, splashing in the water, or tossing a ball back and forth. It is entirely too loud, but Remus won’t turn for the castle while the warmth of the sun warms the chill in his bones and the clear air fills his lungs.

He sighs and shifts his back against the rough bark of the tree, abandoning his textbook for a moment to watch James and Sirius. They are on the shore of the lake, shirtless, and wrestling in the shallows. At one point, they had a frisbee, though Remus doesn’t see it anymore. Though he can hardly focus on anything else when Sirius is right there. Sirius, who has water droplets scattered across his torso, catching the light and drawing Remus’ eyes in, no matter how much he tries to pull them away.

He is helpless but to watch as Sirius’ head falls back in a laugh, exposing the pale column of his throat. There is a primal part of him that wants to burrow his nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent. Remus desperately needs to know. Does he smell like the scent that always surrounds him, or is that just his cologne? He probably smells really good, like something earthy. Sandalwood maybe, or maybe even something smokey, like tobacco?

He feels heat rush to his cheeks, and forcefully tears his gaze away, burying his nose in his book instead. He’s being foolish. Sirius would never look twice at him that way. Not only is he dangerous halfblood werewolf, but he is a boy. Even on the off chance that Sirius did feel the same, Remus could never risk their friendship, one Sirius would probably be better off without anyway. So he will admire from afar, admonishing himself every step of the way. It’s better this way. It’s better than broken hearts and lonely nights. He doesn’t care how selfish it is. If he can’t have Sirius in the way he wants, he will take whatever he can get.

“Enjoying the view?” Lily asks, leaning against the tree next to him. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. See, this is a problem. There is a war going on. If he is too focused on his stupid crush on Sirius, he could compromise not only himself, but whoever he is working with.

“Bugger off.”

“Still?” She gasps. “Remus, it’s been years.” She slides down the tree until she is sitting next to him.

“I know, Lils. I’m pathetic.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

"We've had this conversation before, Lils. I know you are trying to be supportive, but he's straight."

“What if he isn’t?”

He scoffs. “Are we looking at the same person? Sirius is the straightest boy I know.”

“You said that about James.”

“Yeah, well, I’m right about this one.” He insists. She should know better than to get his hopes up like this. It will only lead to him crying alone in the middle of the night over an unrequited love. Like Echo and Narcissus, one forever forced to live in the shadow of the other who would never look twice and the former.

“Remus…”

“I’m not going to risk him looking at me like I’m repulsive. I’d rather live in ignorance.”

“You never chose ignorance.”

“This time I do.”

“Well, if we are jumping to conclusions today, I also have an unrequited crush.”

“You do?”

“Well, you see, I could ask her, but… you know, I might be disappointed by the results of doing so.”

“It’s different and you know it.”

“Really? How so?”

“She’s not your friend. And you’re not a werewolf.”

“Come on, Remus. You have to get over that.”

“Get over it?! I have to live with this forever Lily! I can’t just… just forget about it.”

“You may not be able to forget about it, but you can’t use it as an excuse. If I used being muggleborns as an excuse, I would hardly be the top of our class, would I? No, instead I used it to prove them wrong about their base assumptions toward me. You are more than a stereotype, Remus. And if Sirius can’t see that, then he isn’t the one for you.”

“Sometimes, you are a bit too perceptive, Lils.”

“That’s why I’m your best friend, because I don’t let you feed me the same lies you feed everybody else, including yourself. You have to stop hiding behind these walls, Remus, otherwise you will be stuck right here for the rest of your life.”

[cherrysnax]

oi actually one last thing and then u can whack me with sticks… whenever I don’t know what to draw, I usually just doodle random faces but more often than not they look like my girlfriend :’D

[archangeldyke-all]

I JUST WATCHED ACT ONE AND HOLY SHIT

Do you think sevika likes biting? Like when other people do it? Because when I saw caitlyn doing it to her I could’ve sworn there was a smirk on sevikas face.

Anyway could you do like headcanons on this? If that’s okay. I love you❤️

oh i KNOW she likes biting AHAHHAAHAH

men and minors dni

really, nobody's been able to make you cum like sevika can. not even your trusty vibrator.

so, it's not surprising to you that you're always scratching up her back and leaving bite marks on her shoulders, but it is concerning.

you confront her about it early on in your relationship. both of you are naked and catching your breath in bed, sevika lazily smoking a cigarette and rubbing your back as you lay on top of her, your finger tracing the indent of your teeth on her breast.

"sevika... am i too rough with you?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her smokes, then sputters a laugh. "what're you talking about?!" she cackles.

"i'm always tearing your back up with my nails-- you've got, like scars on your shoulders now babe. and i worry that i'll draw blood one day, with my teeth or nails--"

"--okay, shut up." sevika cuts you off. you huff a bit and pinch her nipple, and sevika shivers and giggles. "baby. if you recall, i'm not exactly gentle with you, either. just fucked you like a bitch in heat, love, 'n 'm gonna have to lotion your ass from how much i was smacking it."

you suddenly feel bashful, sevika's casual discussion of the mindblowing sex you just had giving you butterflies. you bite her again, much more gently, now, right on the collarbone. "shush." you demand.

"what, you're shy now?" sevika teases. she takes a long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out out and wrapping you up in her arms. "babe. i like it when you bite me. feels good to know i'm making you feel that good but... i also just like it. the feeling, and the bruises, 'n the way i get to show everyone you're fuckin' me... in fact, i'd like it if you did it even harder. 'n more. could probably cum in my pants from your teeth on my throat..." sevika admits, her voice trailing off and her eyes darting away from yours.

you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "who's shy now?"

sevika just smacks your ass.

so... you start biting her harder. in your time with sevika you've learned how to treat all kinds of wounds, so you aren't as hesitant as you might be to make her bleed. plus, sevika really fucking does love it.

she gets this excited little smirk going on her face when you start gnawing at her flesh, and when you finally really sink your teeth in (usually on her thighs, just a few inches away from her dripping cunt) she just melts. she whimpers and collapses against the bed and sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see her clit twitch in pleasure, despite the fact that you haven't touched her yet.

the first time she cums from it, it's an accident on your part.

you're at the last drop with her, drunk and grinding and making out sloppily in your little corner of the bar, and some woman across the room keeps eyeing her.

eventually, you pull away from her with a huff, smacking her shoulder a bit.

"w-what?" sevika asks, a little out of breath. you have to bite your lip to concentrate enough to get your words out, to resist the temptation of just kissing her again.

"d'you know her?" you ask, gesturing to the woman.

sevika quickly looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face. "w-who?"

"the bitch that's eyeing you like she's gonna be the one going home with you tonight." you growl.

a smile ticks up at the side of sevika's lips, and you scowl. "jealous, baby?"

"no. jealousy would be if you weren't mine. but you are. i'm possessive."

sevika's smile only grows, and she turns her back on her admirer to wrap her arms back around your waist. "i dunno her, love. even if i did, she'd be the last fuckin' thing on my mind tonight. first thing is your ass. second is your tongue. third and forth right here." sevika says as she squeezes your tits. you can't keep your giggles in.

"what about my teeth?" you tease.

sevika shudders, and before you know it, you're being pinned to a wall.

you groan in her mouth, wrapping one of your legs around her hips as she grinds against you. she shoves a hand under your shirt, groping your stomach and tits as you kiss.

you grab her lower lip between your teeth, and sevika freezes, hot little puffs of air hitting your face as she waits in anticipation for your next move.

you give her lip a soft nip before letting it go and ducking down to lick at her throat.

"ba-baby. please." sevika whines, her hips bucking against you in uncoordinated, sloppy little thrusts.

fuck. fuck. you don't have any real reason to worry, not when sevika's begging for your teeth in her throat. it's so hot it makes you dizzy, and you lose yourself for just a second as you clamp your teeth down into her flesh, hard.

sevika stiffens, squeaks, and then starts to shiver, her body collapsing against you and pinning you to the wall. you wrap your arms around her waist, groaning into her skin as she shivers against you.

"f-fuck!" sevika shouts. you pull away from her throat, blood and spit connecting your lips to her skin as you nuzzle her cheek. "fuck. fuck, i love you." sevika sighs.

you giggle, kissing her scars. "i love you, too, baby. can't believe you just came in your fuckin' pants for me."

sevika chuckles. "'s hot watching you get jealous, or possessive, or whatever." she says with a shrug. "'n i really fuckin' like your teeth."

you gently nip her cheek, then press your bloody lips to hers.

sevika moans at the taste.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[flwrstqr]

` ★ SPIDERMAN!ENHYPEN

ⓘ OO1. ──when you're his MJ 𓈃 ๋ spider man!enhypen x fem!reader . . . 982wc. fluff && skinship, slightly suggestive ARCHiVE ୨୧

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)

"you really think spider-man's cute?" heeseung teases, leaning casually against your desk as you gush about the hero with your friends. you roll your eyes, pretending to ignore the way his eyes twinkle with mischief. "obviously. he's got that mysterious charm and those... muscles," you say with a playful smirk, watching as heeseung's jaw clenches. he shifts closer, lowering his voice, "bet he doesn't kiss you like i do." your breath hitches as his lips brush your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "besides," he murmurs, fingers tracing your wrist, "i heard he’s into pretty girls like you." your eyes widen, and he just grins, leaving you to wonder if your boyfriend knew a little too much about the masked hero. "wait, how would you know that?" you ask suspiciously, but he just winks, stealing a quick kiss before swinging away into the crowded hall.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)

“you could’ve at least tried to act surprised,” jay murmurs, still hanging upside down from the fire escape, his masked face just inches from yours. you bite back a grin, watching the way his eyes crinkle through the suit’s fabric. “you’re telling me you think i didn’t recognize that voice by now?” you tease, crossing your arms with a smirk. “plus, i told you not to come around at night—it’s dangerous, remember?” he chuckles, tugging his mask up just enough to reveal his lips. “funny, i could say the same to you,” he whispers, his voice dropping as he leans closer. your breath hitches when he presses a quick kiss to your lips. "see you tomorrow, troublemaker," he says, swinging back up with one last wink.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)

“you know, i could get used to this,” you murmur, breath warm against spiderman’s suit as he holds you close on the rooftop, his arms securely wrapped around your waist. there's a smirk hidden behind his mask, and he tilts his head. “yeah? maybe i’ll stick around then,” he teases, voice just slightly lower than you remember hearing in class, but you brush it off. “yeah, maybe,” you reply, tugging at his collar. he chuckles, drawing you even closer, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “guess i’ll have to save you more often.” you roll your eyes, grinning. “don't push your luck, spider-boy.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)

"you know, you're terrible at keeping secrets," you teased, crossing your arms as sunghoon dangled upside down from his web, his mask half-pulled up to reveal that smirk you’d come to adore. "oh yeah? what gave me away?" he chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief as he reached down to pull you closer. you rolled your eyes, trying not to let him see the blush on your cheeks. "maybe the fact that spiderman shows up at every single place i go? or, i dunno, the time i caught you changing on my fire escape?" his laughter bubbled up, carefree, before he leaned in, lips brushing yours. "guess i'm just drawn to trouble," he murmured against your lips. "lucky for me, trouble’s got a pretty face."

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)

“are you spiderman?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as sunoo froze, eyes wide. “what? uhm, no way!, he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. but your gaze stayed fixed, catching the way his cheeks flushed under the dim streetlight. “right,” you smirked, crossing your arms. “then why do you always disappear the moment danger shows up?” he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “i just… have a strong sense of self-preservation?” you leaned closer, whispering, “well, if spiderman does show up, tell him i think he’s cute.” his breath hitched, and you could see the tiniest smile twitch at his lips as he mumbled, “i’ll… pass that along.”

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)

“is this… comfortable for you?” jungwon mumbles, upside down, mask -pulled up to reveal his pretty face. you’re barely keeping yourself from laughing, but the way he’s dangling in front of you, his eyes wide and slightly nervous, is so endearing. “you know, you don’t have to hang upside down every time we meet, right?” you tease, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. he shrugs, lips quirking. “comes with the suit,” he whispers, leaning closer. your heart skips a beat as he tilts his head just right, and you close the gap. the taste of his smile lingers as he murmurs, “so… what’s the judgement? still think you prefer normal boys?”

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)

“you know you don’t have to keep showing off like that,” you smirk, leaning against the rooftop’s ledge as riki, still in his suit, grins, flipping down from his web like it’s nothing. “showing off? this is just my usual hero routine,” he teases, inching closer until he’s a breath away. you roll your eyes, a hint of a smile breaking through. “right, ‘cause every hero needs to make extra sure his girlfriend’s safe by hanging upside down outside her window at 2 a.m.,” you reply, crossing your arms. his hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “just being thorough,” he murmurs, voice low, eyes twinkling. “can’t have anything happening to my favorite girl, right?” you laugh, heart racing, feeling the warmth of his touch. “whatever you say,”

[onlymingyus]

i want to write you a song

pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

summary; You have the best job in the world as Lee Jihoon's personal assistant but his secrets are starting to turn your world upside down.

content warnings; personal assistant!reader, ceo/boss!jihoon, single dad!jihoon, children, grandparents/parents, jihoon has a sibling, coworkers!soonyoung, mingyu, & wonwoo, soonyoung in a menace, eating/drinking, alcohol, jealousy, crying, self confidence/esteem issues, death of a family member (in the past).

smut warnings; unprotected sex, pulling out, cream pie, simp!jihoon, mild dom!jihoon, sub!reader, the dom/sub dynamics are very subtle, dumbification (very mild), innocence kink, lingerie kink, pet names, praise (like a lot -- he is a simp), body worship, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, crying (from pleasure and happiness), manhandling, masturbation, pillow princess!reader, i am sure there are more (let me know if its glaring) -- bonus section has its own warnings on patreon.

w/c; 27k and some change (3.2k extra words for patreon bonus)

a/n; thank you to @junkissed and @seokgyuu for helping me come up with a title for this! it's a 1D song, and I do not go here, but it's a very cute song and title! also thank you to my june for proofreading for me and always being the best in the fucking world. literally going through 30k words of my bullshit... the mvp! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy me simping over simp dlif jihoon! next month is spooky seasons so keep your eyes peeled for that one 💀!  

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Whining under your breath, you clutch the drink holder to your chest as you watch the door close in front of you. It didn’t seem to matter how quickly you were trying to get your feet to move in your heels; the door closing was like an impending doom. That was how your entire day felt from the moment you woke up. You were trying to be good at your job. For the past month, you had been doing your best to make a good impression at the company and on your new boss, but it seemed like something would happen to make you look like an idiot. 

“No, no, no! Fuck!” The words come from your lips louder than you intended as you try to put the toe of your shoe between the door and the frame, only to be a second to late watching it close with a deafening clang in front of you. Stomping your foot out of frustration, you feel something cold and wet seeping through the front of your shirt, drawing your eyes down. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

The world was out to get you. That was the only excuse you had as you moved the drink tray from your chest, seeing the coffee stain spreading along your chest towards your stomach. In your temper tantrum, you had managed to knock the lid off one of the coffees, and now you were wearing your mistake. 

Tears prick at your eyes as you try to balance the drinks in one hand and your bags in the other to fish for your badge. Sniffing back your frustration and embarrassment, you barely glance to your left as someone uses their badge to open the door and hold it open for you. “Thanks… I’m such a mess.” 

Jihoon grins at you as you pout down at your shirt. You were a mess. You had been a bit of a mess from the moment he hired you, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still good at your job. You were easy on the eyes, good with his schedule, and you had never missed a day of work—even if you were a couple minutes late. “I have some things upstairs, Miss Y/L/N. Don’t worry about it. Let me take the coffee.” 

The sound of your boss's voice makes your eyes widen as you look in his direction, a soft gasp escaping from your mouth as your lips part in shock. You had been trying so hard to beat him back to the office. You were trying to make a good impression on him and the others in the office by providing an afternoon coffee every single day—today you were failing. 

“Mr. Lee… Oh, I—no, sir. I can—” Shaking his head, Jihoon slides his fingers over yours, taking the tray from your hand before gesturing towards the door once again. “You do too much, Miss Y/L/N. Did one of the guys tell you to pick these up? They shouldn’t. It’s not your job.” 

Taking a step forward, you stumble, feeling Jihoon’s hand on your lower back guide you through the door. Shaking your head, you pull your jacket over your coffee-stained shirt and press your lips together as you adjust your bags to both arms and dare to glance at your boss once again. “No… I just thought they might like them. A little pick-me-up. One for you too.” 

Jihoon smirks softly as he moves his hand from your back to press the call button for the elevator for the both of you. Lifting his brow, he looks back at the drinks in his hand before sighing and tilting his head. “You’re kind. It’s not necessary. I rarely drink coffee, honestly.” 

Watching your face fall in disappointment, Jihoon sighs, following you into the elevator before shaking his head. “But, with that said... I am very appreciative and I’ll enjoy it today, Miss Y/L/N. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” 

Nodding, you swallow hard, thinking back to all the days over the month when you had brought him coffee and saw the confusion on his face as he slid it away. He really didn’t like coffee, did he? You should pay more attention. “It has. Um, I–sir? If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?” 

The ding of the elevator draws Jihoon’s eyes up to the numbers at the top of the door before he grins at your question. You were so cute; it was endearing. You were trying too hard to impress him when you already had. Sighing softly, Jihoon nods his head forward, waiting for you to get off the elevator first when the doors open, before he walks beside you, meeting your gaze. “Coke Zero, actually.” 

It was so unexpected for someone like Lee Jihoon. He was the CEO and star producer of Ruby Entertainment. You expected someone like him, someone who was on the cover of magazines, who had more money than God to drink merlot for breakfast, yet he preferred a Coke Zero for an afternoon pick-up. Grinning, you nod as you drop your bags at your desk and offer to take the drink tray from Jihoon. “I’ll remember that.” 

Giving you a slow once-over, Jihoon meets your eyes and laughs under his breath. “I’m sure you will; you’re good at details.” Starting to turn towards his office, Jihoon stops and gestures towards you and back to his office. “I have extra button-ups in my office closet. You’re welcome to wear one. Might be a little ill-fitting, but...” 

Taking a deep breath, you think about his offer before nodding. You were internally freaking out over the idea of wearing your boss's clothes, but you could feel the wet shirt against your skin at this point and something dry was tempting. Reaching for one of the coffees, Jihoon smirks at you before nodding his head towards his office, not waiting for you to follow him as he brings the drink to his lips and takes a sip. 

Glancing around Jihoon’s office, you watch him move to his desk as if he hadn’t just offered you his clothes before you look at the farthest wall where the closet in question is located. You had put plenty of things in it. That was one of your jobs—pick up dry cleaning, bring it back to the office and put it in the closet. Jihoon liked to work out before work and needed something to change into. 

Sighing to yourself, you shake the thought of Jihoon fresh from the gym in the morning from your head as you cross the room and open the closet, looking over the neatly pressed button-ups. Watching you from his desk, Jihoon makes a small face at the taste of his coffee before smiling to himself as you stare at the shirts in the closet as if there is a wrong choice in front of you. He didn’t have that many different options. He wasn’t an adventurous man when it came to his clothes. He wore white, black, blue, and gray. 

“Pick anything, Miss Y/L/N. Any of them will look lovely on you.” 

That wasn’t helping. You were trying not to panic as you laughed awkwardly and glanced over your shoulder to nod politely towards Jihoon before picking out a white button-up and pulling it towards you. “This one, I guess. I’ll bring it back after I have it dry cleaned, sir.” 

Jihoon watches as you stumble over your feet in your heels, quickly making your way towards his office door. Leaning forward in case you were to fall, he sighs when you reach out your hand and laugh at yourself. “I’m okay, Mr. Lee. Just going to change quickly and get back to work. I apologize for all the inconvenience.” 

Settling back in his chair, Jihoon shakes his head as his door closes and he watches you rush towards the bathroom with his shirt in your hands. Muttering under his breath, he takes another sip of his drink as he looks at his computer screen, scrolling through emails. “You’re not an inconvenience, Y/N…” 

Resting the straw of his coffee against his lips, Soonyoung smirks at you as he tilts his head, giving you a once-over. You were attractive—there was no questioning that. What was making him give you a second and third glance today as you passed out your cute little afternoon coffees was that your shirt was different than it had been before lunch. It was too big for you, almost as if—”Ya, Y/N? Are you wearing your boyfriend’s clothes to work? Did you do something spicy at lunch?” 

Your fingers almost slip from the coffee in your hand as you offer the last one to Wonwoo, his eyes moving to your shirt as Mingyu leans back in his chair to get a better look at you. Your face was on fire and you wanted to kill Kwon Soonyoung. 

“What? No! Oh my god... I don’t—shut up. No, I don’t even… I’m not dating anyone, Soonyoung. I had an accident with the coffee. This is Mr. Lee—” Stopping mid-explanation, you avoid the eyes of the three men even as you feel Soonyoung’s smirk get wider out of the corner of your eye. “Shut the fuck up... No, you are not wearing Jihoon’s clothes! You little slut.” 

Sinking down in your chair outside of Jihoon’s office, you rest your head in your hands as Wonwoo tells Soonyoung to stop teasing you, but the man just laughs, catcalling from across the room even as he gets sheet music thrown in his direction by Mingyu. 

“Leave her alone, Soonyoung. She’s gonna pass out.” Even though Mingyu was "helping,"  you could hear the teasing in his voice. He wasn’t much better than Soonyoung. You could feel his eyes moving over you from his desk and as you met his eyes, you instantly regretted it as he smirked. “You look hot, Y/N. I bet Jihoon was losing his fuckin’ mind seeing you in his—” 

The sound of Jihoon’s office door opening to your right causes everyone to stop teasing, though a few snickers remain. Staring at your laptop, you hear Jihoon clear his throat before you dare glance at him, seeing a soft smile on his face. At least he wasn’t like the other idiots you worked with. He was professional. He would never make you feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like you the way that Soonyoung or Mingyu thought that he did. That was ridiculous. 

“I hate to ask you for a favor after such a long day, but—have you met, uh, Haein?” Furrowing your brows, you shake your head. You had heard the name, but you hadn’t met the woman the name belonged to. You assumed she must be someone important to Jihoon—a sister, aunt, or significant other. You hadn’t let your mind linger. 

“Right… I forget how short of a time you’ve been here. Uh, shit. This is not what I hired you for, but at the same time…” Glancing at his watch, Jihoon sighs and meets your eyes once more. “Do you know where the elementary school is on the corner of Fifth and Cline?” 

Now you are even more confused. You could hear the others in the room whispering, but you didn’t have time to give them a thought as you nodded and Jihoon offered you his car keys. “Perfect. Haein isn’t feeling well. I have that meeting to hopefully sign Seokmin in half an hour or I’d just cancel. We can’t afford to lose him.” 

“I—okay. Sure. I’ll go get Haein.” Jihoon could see the confusion and concern in your eyes and yet you were on your feet, your purse in one hand and his keys in the other. Your brows furrowed, and you tilted your head, trying to get your head around what you were being asked to do, when Jihoon’s fingers wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back towards him. “She’s in Mr. Hong’s class; they know to expect you.” 

Carefully pulling the blacked-out Range Rover into the parking lot, you first lean down to glance at the school in front of you before turning around to look at the booster seat in the back. You were picking up a child. You were picking up Jihoon’s child? Lee Jihoon had a child. 

Your brain was working overtime as you slid out of the seat and held your boss’s keys tight to your chest like a safety net. You were beginning to realize that you knew little to nothing about him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t looked him up on the internet. You had done your research before your interview and you thought you knew everything there was to know about Jihoon and his company—but nowhere on any of his biographies on any website did it mention “father”. 

Smiling at the woman behind the desk, you nod your head and clear your throat in an attempt to not only calm your nerves, but to look like you belong. “I’m here to pick up Lee Haein. She is in Mr. Hong’s class.” Tilting her head at you, the woman studies you for a moment before looking over the screen in front of her and pursing her lips. “Miss Y/L/N?” 

Quickly nodding, you reach into your purse, offering the woman your ID before taking a clipboard that would allow you to sign Haein out of school. “Do you know where the nurse’s station is?” You had never even been inside of this school, so the question makes your brows raise as you awkwardly laugh and offer the clipboard back to the woman. Sighing under her breath, she moves to her feet and leans over the desk, pointing back towards the door and to the left. “It’s the third down the hall. Haein will be waiting with the nurse.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice is meeker than you intended as you back out of the office and into the hall, turning to the left and making your way down the hall, counting doors. Lucky for you, it wasn’t hard to find; not only did the woman give you great directions, but the word Nurse adoring the door would have given the location away—even to you. 

Knocking lightly, you push the door open and wince at the automatic ding from the door alarm. You understood why it was there, but you already felt out of place and now all eyes were on you—even if it was just two sets of eyes. 

“Looks like you get to go home now, Haein.” The man’s voice is soft and kind. You smile at the little girl who looks at you uncertainly before you put your hand to your chest and sigh into your words. “I’m Y/N, Haein. Mr. Lee’s…um—your dad’s assistant.” 

The girl looked no older than six, and she also didn’t seem to be pleased that you were picking her up instead of Jihoon. “Where is he?” Even the sound of Haein’s voice made your heart feel heavy; she did sound pitiful. 

“He’s at the office. I’m sure he’ll come home as soon as possible.” Looking back at the nurse, you take Haein’s bag when it’s offered to you before furrowing your brows tightly as you glance between him and the girl. “Should I take her to the doctor?” 

Shaking his head, the man moves to his feet and runs his hand over Haein’s head as she pouts up at you both. “If she’s feeling bad in the morning, I’d say to make her an appointment. This might just be a bit of a headache and an itchy throat.” Ruffling her hair, the man watches the girl finally smile as he nods at her. “We can be hopeful, right?” 

Walking beside Haein, you glance down at her a few times before the small girl meets your eyes and furrows her brows once the two of you are outside near the car. “Are you taking me to my daddy?” 

Opening the back door, you purse your lips, watching Haein climb into the back and her booster seat waiting for you to not only answer her but to buckle her seat belt. Making a surprised sound, you lean forward and secure the belt as you tilt your head back and forth a few times. “Uh, I—he didn’t. You know what, I’ll ask, but wouldn’t you rather go lay down?” 

Timidly, you reach up, putting your hand against her forehead, a frown finding your lips at the warmth under your palm. “We could get you something for your headache, as long as that’s okay with your dad.” 

Haein pouts a bit, leaning her head back against the seat as you give her a once-over. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, but her first impression of you was shifting. You were being nice and you were pretty. It was funny how you kept stumbling over your words, especially when you were talking about her daddy. 

“I’m sleepy…” Pausing, Haein tilts her head and grabs at your hand, landing on holding your fingers as she kicks off her shoes into the floorboard. “What was your name? I don’t member. Sorry.” 

There was no way you could be upset as you looked down at your fingers wrapped up in tiny ones. Clearing your throat, you press your lips together and nod at Haein before finding your voice. “Y/N.” 

Nodding along with your words, Haein finally lets go of your hand and yawns your name as you take a step back and close the door, letting her rest. You could see something of Jihoon in the girl, but it wasn’t a physical resemblance; it was more mannerisms. Perhaps her physical appearance was something she took after her mom. 

Her mom… Was Jihoon married? You hadn’t seen a ring on his finger, but then again, you didn’t know about a child so there was plenty he kept secret. Sighing softly, you take out your phone as you slide behind the wheel of the car, waiting for your call to connect. Adjusting the rearview mirror, your lips pull up into a soft smile as you watch Haein sleeping soundly behind you—at least you are smiling until Jihoon speaks, then your nerves take over. 

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did you get Haein?” 

Rubbing your lips together, you nod before remembering Jihoon isn’t in front of you. “Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Lee. She’s napping in the car now. I just—” Pausing your brows furrowing when you realize that Jihoon had used your first name. You had heard it a few times from him, but it was so rare. “I, um—where did you want me to take her? You didn’t tell me.” 

Glancing back into his office, where Mingyu was doing his best charm routine with Lee Seokmin, Jihoon smiles at the idea of Haein napping. He was worried about her, but knowing that she was with you eased his nerves exponentially. “There is a key to my house on the keyring for the car. You know the address, don’t you?” 

You did know the address. You had dropped off a few things there once or twice in the time you had been his assistant, but you had never been inside for more than a few moments and never while he wasn’t there and you had never gone past the foyer. “I—yes, sir. Do you have—is someone waiting there for us? To take care of Haein? Her mother?” 

Wincing to your question, Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair as he paces in front of his door. He was feeling anxious; not only at your questions, but also at the fact that he wasn’t in that room getting signatures on paper. “Uh, no. No, could you? I mean, I know it’s not your job, but I’d really appreciate it. I’ll leave as soon as this deal is done.” 

You had already pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of where you’d need to go to get to Jihoon’s house, but his question had you feeling faint. He wanted you to do what? To babysit his daughter? He was taking personal assistance to another level. 

“Me? Well… I—I guess so. I mean, if you need me to, trust me with something so important, sir.” You hear Jihoon scoff on the other end of the phone and you wonder if you have said something wrong. Before you are able to question him, he sighs, and his voice drops not only in volume but in tone, causing your stomach to tighten. “I trust you with everything, Y/N, so yes, I trust you with Haein.” 

Even after being off the phone with Jihoon for over an hour and being inside his house with his daughter tucked into her bed, you were still trying to get his voice out of your head. His words were on a loop in your head and you were feeling pathetic. Clearly, you were taking them a bit too seriously or at least in the wrong way. 

Jihoon trusted you as his assistant. That was why he trusted you with his family. That was why he trusted you in his house without him. That was why you shouldn’t snoop around, and yet you were, just a little. You couldn’t help it. Lee Jihoon was a fascinating man and he sent you a single text on your way to his house. 

Mr. Lee: Make yourself at home. Be there soon. 

So in order to make yourself feel at home, you needed to know where things were in this large home. You had most of the layout figured out. You had easily found the kitchen and Haein’s room with her help. Before tucking her in, you had also found her bathroom and some children’s tylenol to help with her fever. Now you were discovering that Jihoon had a home studio, because, of course, he did. 

There were pictures of Haein everywhere now that you really took the time to look past the foyer, but more than that, there were pictures of her with other people. Tilting your head, you pick up a framed picture from a bookshelf, noticing how the man holding a much smaller Haein looked so much like her. He had some similarities to Jihoon, but most of all, he had Haein’s eyes and her nose. 

You wanted to keep studying the picture, but the sound of the front door made your heart rise into your throat as you carefully put the picture back where it belonged and moved back into the living room just in time to see Jihoon do the same. Glancing around the room, he takes a breath before he meets your eyes and lets it out with a sigh. 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Again, you weren’t going to let that go to your head. Instead, you watch as Jihoon rubs at his neck, his other hand loosening his tie as he moves towards the couch to sit down. “Is Haein sleeping? I seriously can’t thank you enough for this, Miss Y/L/N.” 

It almost made you sad that Jihoon hadn’t called you by your first name in person. You liked how it sounded on his lips, even though you shouldn’t. Smoothing your hands over your borrowed shirt, you nod as you move towards where your bags waited for you in a chair next to the couch Jihoon was now occupying. 

“She is, it wasn’t an issue, Mr. Lee.” Clearing your throat as Jihoon watches you fidget in place. “I gave her a dose of the children’s tylenol that was in her bathroom. She was running a bit of a fever, but I checked her a few minutes ago and it seems to be a bit better now.” Grabbing your purse, you sigh under your breath, realizing for the first time since you had arrived at Jihoon’s that you had driven his car there; yours was still at the office. 

Jihoon tilts his head as you take out your cellphone and start scrolling, your purse resting on your forearm. “Thank you for doing that... What are you doing?” You were clearly concentrating on something hard; your brows were knitted together so tight that you were almost scowling at your phone. “I—uh, ordering a ride.” 

Running his hand over his face, Jihoon shakes his head before leaning back on the couch and finally meeting your eyes once again. “I won’t tell you what to do, however... I’d strongly prefer you not do that. I was hoping—” 

The confusion is written on your face as Jihoon stops speaking, as if coming up with his words on the spot. To you, he always seemed so confident, if not a bit intimidating, when in reality, right now he was mustering his courage. “I was hoping that you’d stay for dinner and then let me get you home. I’ll have someone here to help with Haein in a couple hours, and then I can drive you to your car myself.” 

Glancing around the room, you take a breath and fill your cheeks with air as you consider his words. Finally meeting his eyes again, you nod and watch as a smile pulls at Jihoon’s lips, making it impossible for you not to mirror it shyly. 

“Really? Okay… great. Perfect—uh yeah. I’ll go check on Haein, say hi, and, uh, be right back.” Jihoon was not only overflowing with confidence, but he was also articulate and precise. You were now watching him stumble over his words, a slight flush to his cheeks as he tapped his hand over the arm of the couch and got to his feet. Surely you were reading too much into this. You had to be, even as you watched Lee Jihoon glance over his shoulder at you, his hip knocking into a chair as he walked out of the room. 

Sighing under his breath, Jihoon runs his fingers through his hair as he turns down the hall and is finally out of your line of sight. “Real fuckin’ smooth. Get it together.” While his words were muttered under his breath, Jihoon still feared you might hear him as he shook out his hands and took a steady breath. 

It wasn’t easy to be around you like this. At work, it was so much simpler to play into his role as your boss. He got into the zone once he stepped into the building, but here? He could really see you. He could let his eyes wander more, not that he hadn’t been doing that more at the office. You were the most beautiful woman that Jihoon had ever seen and while that hadn’t been the reason that he had hired you as his personal assistant, it was a bonus. The fact that you were also one of the most interesting and endearing people that he had ever met? Well, that was icing on top of the cake. 

Carefully pushing the door to Haein’s room open, Jihoon frowns a bit, seeing the way the girl’s brows were knitted together as she slept. She somehow looked even smaller than normal. Being as gentle as possible, Jihoon sits on the side of her bed and runs his fingers over her forehead, feeling for any signs of a lingering fever. He knew that you had given her medicine. However, parental instinct was taking over. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had always possessed. It wasn’t something he had even wanted, but for Haein, he’d do anything. 

Fidgeting in her sleep, Haein turns on her side and wraps her hand around Jihoon’s as she mutters softly under her breath. It isn’t clear, but Jihoon knows it’s 'daddy,” and it makes his heart beat faster. “Shh, sleep, baby. Grandma will be over in a bit.” 

Jihoon’s voice is soft and lulls Haein back to a deeper sleep, allowing him to carefully work his hand away from hers so he can move back to his feet and towards her door. It’s almost painful to leave her, even if he knows she needs the rest and that you are waiting for him, but a soft snore slipping from his daughter’s lips gives him the strength he needs to get moving. 

Looking around the living room, you start to wander once again as you wait for Jihoon. There was so much to see in his home compared to what you were used to. While you had never forgotten how successful your boss was, seeing it around you made it all that more real. 

Admiring the art on his walls, you sigh softly, not hearing him come into the room behind you, which gives him a moment to admire you. You belonged; there wasn’t any way to explain how his brain was screaming that at him, but looking at you standing in his living room already wearing his shirt. Jihoon’s brain was misfiring at the image. 

“Uh, she’s still asleep, but her fever seems to have gone down, thanks to you.” Glancing over your shoulder, you feel your cheeks heat up when you realize that Jihoon is looking at you. He was quiet, or perhaps you were just distracted, but either way, his eyes were intense as he smiled at you now. 

“I’m glad she’s doing better. She is very sweet.” Sighing as you lift your shoulders and drop them, and turning towards Jihoon as he moves towards the kitchen, you take a few steps towards him to follow. “I feel kinda bad for not really knowing much about her. I feel like, as your assistant, I’ve done a bad job of getting to know my boss. I didn’t even know you didn’t like coffee, much less that you had a daughter and a family.” 

Tilting his head, Jihoon smiles into a laugh as he leans to open a cabinet, taking out a pot and sitting it on the stove. “Well, I mean... In your defense, I don’t really tell many people my personal details. There are a few in the office who know some things about me, but—” Clicking his tongue before laughing once again, Jihoon meets your eyes as he leans against the cabinets. “You’ll get to know me, I promise. Is ramen okay?” 

Watching someone cook for you—especially ramen—isn’t how you thought you’d fall head over heels for someone, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Jihoon. Of course you had found him attractive before; how could you not? He looked like a million bucks at work in his suits without a tie, his hair perfectly styled. You practically drooled over him, but here in his kitchen, as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him push the sleeves of his button-up further up his arms as he chopped the green onions and kept an eye on the ramen coming to a boil, you were swooning. 

“I think we can get Seokmin finalized by the end of this week.” Jihoon’s words pull you out of your domestic haze and back to the present as you finally meet his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn under his gaze. Nodding, you look away, feeling shy as you reach for the glass of water that was placed in front of you moments before. “That would be good; I know you were itching to get him under the label. He’s really talented.” 

Jihoon hums along with your words, his eyes still on you even when you look down at your glass and tap your fingers on the side. God, you were stunning. This was the longest he had ever had the chance to spend with you and he knew he was wasting it by talking about work, but he was terrified. No other woman made him as nervous as you did. It was as if he would say the wrong thing and you’d fly away like a bird. 

“He is. Once he’s signed, I hope to get him in the studio as soon as possible. It’s been far too long since we’ve had a new artist debut with us. His last label didn’t understand his voice; I think I could—” Jihoon watches your lips pull up into a smile as he starts to ramble, causing him to trail off. A soft laugh takes the place of his words instead as he shakes his head and reaches for an egg, cracking it into the pot in front of him. “I don’t want to talk about work; I don’t know why I’m even doing it.” 

Tilting your head, you watch Jihoon’s hands as he discards the shell of the egg and rests his palms on the counter. “Because it’s easy. It’s what you know. You’re good at your job, Mr. Lee.” 

Sucking his teeth, Jihoon turns from the stove and opens a cabinet in front of him to take out two bowls. “I wish you wouldn’t be so formal with me. It makes me feel like I have to do it again. Just call me Jihoon, please.” 

The idea of calling Jihoon anything other than Mr. Lee makes your stomach tighten. You heard the others in your office call him by his first name and you had said it to yourself on occasion but never to him. The heat was rising along your neck and to your cheeks once again as you avoided Jihoon’s eyes, a soft smile on your lips. “Okay, Jihoon.” 

That was better than anything Jihoon had ever written or heard in his life. If there was anything that he knew, it was music. He knew how to write lyrics that would bring a grown man to tears, and yet when you said his name, that smile on your face almost broke him. 

Letting out a breath, Jihoon’s shoulders drop before he licks his lips and forces himself back to the task at hand. Dividing the ramen between the two bowls and giving you the egg, he slides your bowl towards you and rests his elbow on the counter. “I hope you like it, Y/N.” 

You cant stop the quiet laugh that slips from between your lips when Jihoon calls you by your first name, your cheeks warming like a schoolgirl who has a crush. Pressing your lips together, you nod and pick up your chopsticks and see Jihoon smiling out of the corner of your eye as he waits for you to take the first bite before joining you. The food is simple and warms you from the inside out. It was something you’d make for yourself after a long day, but there was something special about it being made for you and the fact that it was made by Jihoon. “It’s delicious. Thank you…” 

Even Jihoon had to admit that this was one of his better bowls of ramen. Perhaps it tasted better because he was sharing it with you, or maybe because he had put more heart into cooking it, but the broth was the perfect level of spice and savory on his tongue. Humming as he leans over his bowl, Jihoon nods before quietly slurping the noodles into his mouth and licking his lips. “My pleasure; the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.” 

You hadn’t done much, not in your mind. You knew that Jihoon was busy. He was always at the office before you and it seemed like while he left before the rest of the staff, there was a good reason. Now you understand that he was probably picking up Haein. He was even busier than you knew. 

Dropping off her bag on the table next to the front door, Jihoon’s mother is surprised when he doesn’t meet her. The soft hum of voices draws her closer to the kitchen, but seeing the look in her son’s eyes as he watches you eat and smile makes her pause. She knew that she could say something and let Jihoon know that she was there, but it was the first time that she had seen her son in love and she wanted to relish it. 

Laughing softly, Jihoon takes a sip of his Coke before nodding along with your words as he learns a bit about your life. He loved learning about you—about your family, your wish for a pet, anything you were willing to share. It felt like time had frozen with you until something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Jihoon’s cheeks started to flush. 

“Mom…” 

Mom? Sitting up straight, you glance in the same direction that Jihoon is looking, only for your eyes to widen to see a pretty older woman watching you both. The look on her face is kind, and her eyes are full of what seems like endearment as she laughs at both of your surprised reactions. 

“Why are you both acting like I caught you doing something wrong? Please eat.” Moving towards her son, Jihoon’s mother leans to kiss his cheek before she meets your eyes as you wipe your lips and adjust your clothes, trying to look as presentable as possible in front of someone so important. “Who is this beautiful girl, Jihoon?”

Sighing, Jihoon closes his eyes for a moment, hearing his mother’s words, before he opens them and meets you almost apologetically before clearing his throat. “This is Y/N, um... Y/N Y/L/N, my assistant.” 

Still smiling fondly at you, Jihoon’s mother reaches across the island to offer you her hand, which you take, letting her squeeze your hand gently. “It is such an honor to meet you, dear. I’ve never met any of Jihoon’s—” Stopping to think of the word, his mother smiles almost mischievously, turning to meet her son’s eyes. “Girlfriends.” 

Opening your mouth to start to explain that you aren’t his girlfriend, that you are just, as he explained, his assistant, you aren’t quick enough as Jihoon moves to stand, laughing awkwardly and taking his mother’s arm. “Mom, thank you for coming to help. Haein should be waking up. I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you. We will be right back, Y/N.” 

Lifting your now-free hand to your lips, you nod and gesture to the dishes before sliding off your stool. “Um, okay. I’ll wash the dishes.” Jihoon turns to walk backwards, his hand still on his mother as he shakes his head. “No, no… I’ll get them later. I’ll be right back.” 

Turning the corner with his mother in tow, Jihoon finally meets her eyes, watching her smile widen before the two are out of line of sight of you. “What was that?” Reaching up to adjust Jihoon’s shirt, his mother carefully buttons one more button before lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “She’s very pretty, Jihoon.” Groaning, Jihoon rolls his eyes, turning away from his mother’s hand and opening Haein’s door, letting her go in first. He wasn’t going to admit out loud to his mother that she was right. 

Humming along with a song in your head, you glance over your shoulder, hearing a scoff when Jihoon finally comes back to the kitchen. Clearly, you hadn’t listened to him with your hands in soapy dishwater up to your forearms. “I’m almost done. There were just a few things.” 

“I told you I’d do them later.” Shaking your head, you use your elbow to turn on the sink, rinsing the last bowl as Jihoon moves to your side, his hand brushing subconsciously along your back as he takes it from you and puts it on the drying rack. “I wanted to help, besides... When you get back home, I’m sure you will have to take care of Haein, shower, and get ready for bed. Now this is done.” 

Sighing softly, Jihoon turns to rest his hip against the counter as you rinse the soap from your hands. This was all so domestic, and the fact that you were worried about simple things like him having the time to take a shower before bed? Jihoon was not letting that go to his head, not even a little bit. 

“And what about you? You’ll have to drive all the way home before you can do any of that for yourself. I feel awful.” Offering Jihoon a smile, you dry your hands before finally meeting his eyes and realizing how close he was standing. Swallowing hard, your smile fades ever so slightly as you take a single step back and fold the towel in your hands as you shake your head once again. "I—um, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.” 

Jihoon was realizing that was impossible. He was having a hard time taking his eyes off of you, much less his mind. His smile lifting at one corner of his lips, Jihoon nods before gesturing his head towards the kitchen entryway. "Then, in the spirit of that, let me get you to your car so I don’t keep you out all night.” 

A shirt folded in your arms, a Coke Zero in one hand, and your bag in the other, you make your way to your desk even as Soonyoung leans back in his desk chair to get a better look at you. Over the past few weeks he was getting easier and easier to ignore, even if he was also becoming one of your best friends. 

“No coffee?” Lifting your brows to Soonyoung’s question, you pick up the Coke from your desk and smile at him sweetly before knocking on Jihoon’s door as the other man groans about having to get his own. 

“Come in.” 

Taking a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and slide past the large door letting it close behind you. Making your way towards his desk, you carefully avoid Jihoon’s eyes until you are too close to do so. “Hi, so I have your shirt and this.” 

Jihoon smiles as you sit the Coke Zero in front of him before moving towards his closet to hang up the borrowed shirt. “Thanks, Y/N.” Nodding, you glance over your shoulder as you try to put the hanger on the rack once and then twice before finally hitting your mark. “Sure, no biggie. I remembered.” 

His smile pulls into more of a full grin as he watches you struggle with the hanger. You were even cuter than normal, if that were possible. He had hated saying goodnight to you the night before, but he really felt like he had made progress with you. This as the most he had seen you in his office in a long time. 

Swallowing hard, you turn on your heels and press your lips together before gesturing towards Jihoon and smiling softly. “How is Haein feeling?” 

Jihoon liked this casual conversation, even if it was about his daughter. He wished you’d sit down, but even he had to remind himself that he should keep it somewhat professional at the office. Cracking open the drink in front of him, Jihoon nods and meets your eyes once again. “She’s okay, still a bit sickly. My mom stayed with her today, but…” You watch as Jihoon’s head tilts, a metaphorical lightbulb going off above his head as something occurs to him. “Y/N, are you busy this evening?” 

When you open your mouth to speak, you close it and shake your head. A list of reasons why Jihoon would ask you about your plans goes through your head before finally— ”Could you stay with Haein for a few hours while I go to dinner?” That wasn’t on your list. He wanted you to take care of his kid while he went to dinner? What? Like on a date? 

Swallowing hard, you push down your disappointment, forcing a smile as you nod politely. “Sure, I have nothing else going on. You want me to go there after work?” 

Jihoon watched as your smile faded and then reappeared strained. He wouldn’t make you watch Haein; he could always ask his mom to stay longer. Even if she did have plans, but he was hoping to talk with you like he had the day before. Why did you look so upset? 

“Uh, if you really don’t mind. I could use the he—” 

“Nope, don’t care—I mean, I don’t mind. I’ll go and I’ll go now, out... you know, to work.” Gesturing your thumb towards the door, you take a few steps backwards before turning towards it as Jihoon says your name under his breath. 

You weren’t sure you had ever felt so stupid as you did working for those few hours until Jihoon told you and the rest of the main office to have a good evening. Nodding, you avoid his eyes even as Jihoon stops at your desk to sigh, muttering that he would see you once he got home. 

Waiting until Jihoon is out of the door, Soonyoung moves from his seat and walks towards your desk with his head tilted. “At home? What the hell is that about?” 

Rolling your eyes, you try to wave the man off, not wanting to talk about it, but as usual, Soonyoung wouldn’t let go of something like this so easily. “Stop flailing your hand at me. Are you going back over to his house? What the fuck, Y/N?” 

Sighing loudly, you meet Soonyoung’s eyes as you shrug, letting your pen fall from your fingers in annoyance. “To take care of his kid while he goes to dinner. I’m a glorified babysitter, Soonyoung.” You shake your head when he tries to argue, your hand lifting to tell him to stop. “I’m gonna go and do the right thing because I know he deserves a night out. Also, because I like Haein; she’s sweet, but I won’t fucking lie... It sucks to know I’m doing this so he can go on a damn date.” 

Pushing back hard from your desk, you don’t listen as Soonyoung says your name and tries to get you to listen to reason. Instead, you push at his hand, shooting him a hurt look as you tug your purse up from the floor and onto your arm. “Y/N, I think you’re misunderstand—” 

“Stop patronizing me. I’m not stupid.” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stands up to walk behind you, feeling bad for teasing you. “I’m not! It’s not even a—” The door closing in Soonyoung’s face stops him from going further, the end of his sentence said to the wooden door. “Date.” 

Leaning back in his chair, Mingyu props his feet up on his desk and shakes his head at the display while Soonyoung runs his fingers through his hair. “You fucked up.” 

“Me?! I think Jihoon fucked up. She thinks he’s going on a date. He needs to talk to that woman or she’s gonna quit. He’s stringing her along.” Mingyu couldn’t argue with Soonyoung, and he shared his fondness for you. Jihoon’s previous assistants were never a good fit. Either they were overly zealous or lazy. One had even leaked company information to another label, but then you got the job and everything flowed like water. 

“Yeah, well… He’ll figure it out. Or we will just kill him.” 

That Soonyoung could agree with. 

“Miss Y/N, will you make me s’getti?” 

You had gotten to Jihoon’s house in a sour mood, but quickly found that when you were around Haein, you couldn’t be upset. She was so different from the previous day. It was obvious that she was starting to feel better, and her personality was really starting to shine. She was like a little bright light in your dark evening. 

“‘Course, as long as you guys have the stuff for it.” Pursing your lips, you open the pantry doors and sigh at the amount of groceries available to you. Of course, Lee Jihoon would have a stocked kitchen. You don’t know why you even considered anything different. 

Pulling a few things from the pantry and then more from the fridge, you glance into the living room as Haein pulls a brush through her doll's hair and hums under her breath. You had found yourself smiling fondly at everything the girl had done, even when it was the smallest thing. She could show you that she could tie her shoe and you were praising her like a proud family member. “What’s your doll's name, Haein?” 

Smiling at you from the couch, Haein lifts the doll to show it off as she moves to her knees. “I used to call her Kimmie, but I like your name better. That okay?” Biting your lip as you push the hamburger meat around in the pan in front of you, you feel your heart tighten in your chest at the little girl's words. “Mmhm, that’s okay with me.” 

Your phone had gone off a few times in the night. From the time that you had left the office to the time that you had put a bowl of spaghetti in from Haein, you had been ignoring it. You didn’t need to check it to know it was probably Jihoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were here. His mother had been here when you had gotten here; she had said goodbye to Haein and you knew there were security cameras in Jihoon’s house. You just didn’t find yourself wanting to talk to him while he was on a date with some girl. It wasn’t until the tenth buzz from your phone on the kitchen counter as you put leftovers into a container, you let out an annoyed breath and turned the phone over to read your texts. 

Lee Jihoon: Thank you again for helping me out. I owe you big time

Lee Jihoon: Soonyoung said you were upset when you left. Is everything okay?

Lee Jihoon: Y/N? 

Lee Jihoon: Are you mad at me?

Lee Jihoon: Could we talk when I get home?

Lee Jihoon: How is Haein? Are you guys doing okay?

Lee Jihoon: I checked the camera. I hate doing that. Seems like you guys are having a good time

Lee Jihoon: Feels like you are ignoring my texts on purpose

Lee Jihoon: What did I do???

Lee Jihoon: We are going to talk. 

Shaking your head, you send a single text message back to Jihoon before slipping your phone into your pocket and making your way over to the couch and Haein. “What are we watching?” Giggling, Haein tells you about her Barbie movie and you listen even as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your stomach in knots, you sigh softly and offer the girl beside you a smile as she adjusts to sit against you, her head against your shoulder, before pulling your arm around her tightly. 

Y/N: Haein is doing great. No need to rush back. Enjoy your date, Mr. Lee. 

Lee Jihoon: Be home soon, Miss Y/L/N. 

You didn’t give your phone much more thought; instead, you focused on Haein as she shifted against you to lay in your lap. Your eyes are moving between her and the movie as your fingers brush her hair back from her face. You watch as her eyes slowly close and her breaths become steady and softer, sleep taking her attention from the movie. 

Sighing softly, you feel your chest tighten at the sight of the little girl asleep in your lap, but more so at the feeling it gives you. You enjoy being close to her. You like that she is happy and feels comfortable enough to sleep. Despite only knowing her for a short time, you find yourself getting attached to Haein. 

Shrugging his coat off, Jihoon furrows his brows tightly as he moves through the house towards the living room and the sound of the television. He was frustrated that you hadn’t been answering his messages, but that last message from you had told him more than enough about why you were acting the way you were. 

He knew how he felt about you, even if it was a little terrifying for him, but if you were going to sulk and avoid him thinking that he was on a date, clearly you felt something for him too. With a plan in mind—to address the problem head-on right away—Jihoon moves into the room, only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His plan goes right out the window when he sees your fingers lazily brushing through Haein’s hair as she sleeps in your lap. Now there was no way he could avoid how he felt about you, not when you were the picture of everything he wanted in his life right in front of his eyes. 

“Y/N…” Jihoon’s soft voice causes your brows to furrow as you sit up slightly, only to feel his fingers slide along your shoulders to keep you from moving to quickly and startling Haein. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t wake her. She looks so peaceful.” Leaning over your shoulder, Jihoon smiles brightly as he carefully guides his fingers along the side of yours over Haein’s head with a sigh. “She looks happy.” 

Jihoon had never been this close to you before and with where he had just come from, you find yourself leaning your head away from his cheek to give him space before moving your hand from his daughter’s head. “Mm, I hope she is. I can let you take her so I can get out of the way.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sighs as he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. “You aren’t in the way, Y/N. Would you stop this? You’ve avoided my messages all evening. I want to talk about what’s going on, but I do want to get Haein in her room first.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon waits for you to nod before he stands back to his full height and moves around the couch to slide his arms under her, pulling her against his chest. 

Glancing over his shoulder as he takes a step towards the hall, Jihoon swallows hard, hearing you shift behind him. “Please don’t leave, okay? For me? Give me like five minutes to put my daughter in her bed and then I’ll be back.” You wanted to tell him no and leave, but the look on his face and the way he phrased his words made you settle back into the couch with another nod. 

Jihoon kept his promise and less than five minutes later, you watched a less put-together Lee Jihoon make his way back into the living room. Running his fingers through his hair, he then unbuttons his sleeves and pushes them up to his elbows before finally meeting your eyes allowing you to see how nervous he really is. 

“I’m pretty tired, Mr. Lee. I should be getting home soo—” 

“I wasn’t on a date, Y/N.”

It isn’t just Jihoon cutting you off that makes you stop, but also what he has to say. Tilting your head, you shift nervously on the couch as he sits down next to you, closer than you anticipate. “That’s what you wrote me. Your last text... To enjoy my date? I was out for a business dinner with Seokmin and his manager. I haven’t been on a date in over two years.” 

It was none of your business. He didn’t need to tell you this and you shouldn’t have even said anything. You feel guilt sitting on your shoulders as you look down at your hands and push your fingers into your palm. “Oh… Well, you don’t owe me any explanations.”

You were so devastatingly beautiful and frustrating at the same time. Scoffing, Jihoon shakes his head as his eyes stay fixed on your fingers as you nervously dig them into your palm. “Clearly I do, and I should have just explained it before when I asked you to stay with Haein tonight. There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, I think, based on how you are reacting and how Soonyoung said you left at work.” 

Now you feel like a fool. Embarrassment washes over you and you lift your head, meeting Jihoon’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m—that’s so… God. I am so embarrassed, Jihoon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I acted like a child when I left work; I said stupid shit.” 

You watch a smirk pull at Jihoon’s lips before he glances down and nods. Obviously, Soonyoung had told him what had happened, perhaps in detail. “Made me realize that I’m maybe not alone in feeling something between us. If you can get that jealous over the idea of a date.” 

Heat rises along your neck and into your face as you look away from Jihoon at what his words imply. Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows as your brain goes from misfiring to giving you approximately a hundred reasons to bolt for the door, including the fact that Jihoon is your boss. 

“Am I wrong? ‘Cause I like you, Y/N. I mean, fuck—I really like you.” Trying to hide your smile, you lift your hand, pushing at your lips, before Jihoon’s fingers wrap gently around your wrist, pulling your hand down to your lap as he whispers your name to get you to look at him. “Come on, talk to me.” 

Shaking your head, you swallow hard as Jihoon’s thumb moves in a circle in your palm, keeping you grounded. “I—you’re my boss and... well, you have a daughter. I mean, not that I wouldn’t date someone with a kid, what I’m sayin—I mean.” Taking a breath you try to relax before nodding and starting over. “I don’t want to mess things up at work or for Haein. I’m sure she has feelings about her mother, wherever she is, and seeing her father with someone else might be really confusing.” 

Tilting his head, Jihoon nods along with you as you finally get your concerns out. Laying your hand on his leg, he slides his fingers along your hand and brings them together, lightly scratching your skin. “Well, first of all, I’m the CEO so I can do whatever I want, but there are also three employees in the main office, Y/N. They don’t give a fuck. The other employees have never even met me face-to-face.” 

Daring to spread to your fingers to catch Jihoon’s letting him hold your hand, a smile spreads over his face as he glances down at your hands and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Two, this goes along with things I need to explain about myself. A lot of people don’t know my personal life. They don’t need to, but you do. Haein is…fuck, how do I—” Sighing, Jihoon leans his head back as he tries to think of the right words before nodding and meeting your eyes. “She’s my niece.” 

Jihoon watches confusion flash across your face as you tilt your head so he is quick to continue. “But she is my daughter. I know it’s confusing. I adopted her after my brother passed away three years ago. He and his wife were in an accident and—” Sighing, Jihoon tilts his head and you notice the way his brow furrows and the strain in his voice. Shifting closer, you close your hand around his and lift your other hand, timidly reaching to brush Jihoon’s hair from his cheek as a smile pulls at his lips for the kind gesture, making it easier to go on. “Haein was already my goddaughter, so when she lost them, I didn’t want her to know loneliness.” 

Leaning into your touch, Jihoon lets out another breath with a quiet, kind laugh as he lifts his hand to push his thumb against your pout. “Don’t be sad. We are okay; you can see that. One day, when she is ready, I’ll explain it all to her. She already sees the pictures of them, but she just doesn’t know who they really are. I don’t want to confuse her, so she knows me as her dad.” 

Every negative feeling you had been feeling about Jihoon now makes your stomach twist with guilt. You would have never imagined that someone like him would do something like that for his brother’s child and make sure that she had the perfect life, but here he was and Haein was living that life. 

“Jihoon… She’s so lucky to have you as her dad. She loves you so much.” 

Smiling, Jihoon nods a bit before his nose wrinkles playfully as he glances towards the hallway and to where Haein’s room is. “I love her. She’s my world, and I spoil her too much. She’s gonna be a nightmare as a teenager.” 

Your laugh is music to Jihoon’s ears and makes his heart beat faster. Sliding his fingers along your hand to your wrist, Jihoon sighs softly and licks his lips as his eyes drop to yours and your pretty smile. “Go out with me tomorrow.” 

Rubbing your lips together, your laugh falls silent on your lips at Jihoon’s question and how he is looking at you. The air feels thicker and more electric with his touch and you find yourself wanting to lean in and feel his breath against your lips as his eyes drift to yours one more time. 

“Where?” Now you were being coy, but Jihoon found it endearing. Smirking, he tilts his head and shifts closer to you, trailing his fingers along your arm feeling the chillbumbs erupt under his touch. “Someplace nice, dinner. Let me take you on a date, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Shivering, the chillbumps spreading over your entire body, you nod, letting out a slow breath, almost afraid to speak, knowing words would be difficult. You almost want to ask Jihoon to kiss you, but you know it’s too quick and he seems to know it too as he leans back and lifts his hand. to trail the back of his fingers over your warm cheek. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow. Let me walk you to the door; you said you were tired.” 

Your entire day had been filled with one thought. What does someone wear on a date with their boss? You had asked friends and family, and you even considered asking Soonyoung for his advice. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror in at least ten different outfits before finally landing on one that you didn’t hate. 

Jihoon, on the other hand, had turned to Soonyoung, though he had quickly regretted it. Watching the other man from his mirror, Jihoon rolled his eyes as Soonyoung made a disapproving face at yet another shirt that he pulled from his closet. “You don’t like anything I own.” 

"Well, everything you own is boring as fuck.” Smiling quickly to cover up the end of his cursing, Soonyoung glances towards the bedroom down and out into the other room to watch Haein playing with her grandmother. “Y/N is classy. She’s sexy. She deserves something different than what you wear every single day.” 

Shaking his head, Jihoon pushes his shirt back into the closet with a sigh before pulling out another and holding it up, getting a head tilt from Soonyoung. “Not bad; try it on. I like the bit of pattern; it’d be better if it wasn’t so subtle. 

Cursing under his breath, Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head and pulls the button up over his arms, quickly buttoning it up almost all the way when Soonyoung groans. “Leave it unbuttoned more than that, you prude. Show her some chest; give her the goods.” 

“Jesus Christ… Why did I ask you to come over?” 

“Because I’m your best friend and I have good fashion sense.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes as he undoes two buttons and turns towards the mirror, adjusting his shirt, tucking it into his dress pants and tilting his own head. He hated to admit it, but Soonyoung was right; the shirt looked pretty damn good on him. 

Tugging at the end of your dress as you sit on your couch, you whine under your breath and watch the minutes tick down. You had wanted to just meet Jihoon at the restaurant but he had insisted on picking you up. It seemed he had wanted you to have the full first date experience with him and it was making you feel almost queasy as you waited.

You had made Jihoon tell you what restaurant he was taking you to so that you could look over the menu in advance, and despite the prices not being listed, you had a good idea of what to order. You had even gone as far as to look up reviews of the place, only to put your phone face down on your coffee table, not wanting to see any more words like worth the price, romantic, once in a lifetime experience. Those were words you didn’t associate with yourself. 

Shaking his hands out, Jihoon looks up at your apartment building and puffs up his cheeks before taking the first step towards the door. It had been a long time since he had been on a date and even longer since he had been on one with someone he actually cared so much about. The last date had been a blind date set up by guys in the office and while the woman had been nice enough, she was nothing like you. 

Jihoon could remember how awkward the conversation had been. He hadn’t meant to be so difficult and he honestly felt horrible by the end of the date and apologized. No day with you had ever been like that. Every single conversation Jihoon had ever had with you had been as easy as breathing for him. The awkward silences were shared by both before the two of you would smile and laugh filling the space. Even the idea brings a smile to his face and makes Jihoon’s skin erupt in chillbumps as he searches for your apartment number and last name before pressing the call button. 

You hadn’t realized how intently you had been staring at your coffee table until the buzzer for your apartment went off. Putting your hand against your chest, you feel your heart beating hard and fast as you take a deep, calming breath. With one last glance to the clock, you nod and speed walk towards the intercom next to your door, clearing your throat before pressing the button and smiling into your words. “I’ll be right down, Jihoon.” 

Your voice makes Jihoon almost melt on the spot. You were smiling; he could hear it and he couldn’t wait to see it. Nodding, he takes a step back and leans against the railing as he glances up at the sky, enjoying the colors. The sun had started to set, so there was this perfect mixture of pink, blue, and gold that almost looked like a painting. Jihoon finds himself hoping you’ll hurry down so he can share the moment with you and even as the thought passes through his mind, he laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was falling for you hard. 

Sliding your jacket over your shoulders, you quickly walk to the elevator and tap the toe of your shoe against the floor as you watch the numbers go down slower than they ever had. You knew it was a trick of your mind that the elevator wasn’t going slower than it did on any normal day, but knowing that Lee Jihoon was waiting for you made the world slow down and you wanted to see him. After spending your entire day both dreading and being excited about this date, now you were more excited than anything. 

When the doors to the elevator open, letting you see the main doors of your apartment complex, you take a deep breath, seeing Jihoon looking up at the sky. If you weren’t worried that he would start to worry where you were, you might take a picture of him through the glass doors. There was something incredibly picturesque and handsome about him with the sunset on the horizon behind him, the trees on the other side of the street, and the way his hair was framing his perfect face. 

Commiting the moment to memory instead, you push the door open and lower your eyes, feeling instantly shy when a quiet gasp escapes Jihoon’s lips when he sees you for the first time that evening. What you had chosen to wear was nothing special but to Jihoon, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. You were wearing a black bodycon dress that came to your mid-thigh and a light brown long jacket that fell under the length of your dress. Even down to your shoes, black heels that no one else would probably think to look at, Jihoon was taking in every detail before he tried to meet your eyes. 

“Y/N…” Whining at the sound of your name on his lips, you avoid his gaze until Jihoon’s fingers gently rest under your chin and lift your head so he can finally meet you eye to eye. “You are stunning, holy shit. I—I have to...calm down.” 

You laugh so quietly and so sweetly that Jihoon’s attempt to calm down fails. A soft groan slips from between his lips before he rubs his fingers over his lips and shakes his head, moving his hand from your face to your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. “Come on, beautiful. I promised you dinner.” 

You had been right about the restaurant that Jihoon had wanted to take you to. It was fancy and not something you had ever expected to experience. The food was indulgent and the wine tasted expensive, but more importantly, Jihoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

More than once you had found yourself mid-conversation meeting his eyes and your cheek burning as he all but stared at you in awe. You would watch Jihoon smile and let out a soft embarrassed laugh at getting caught before he would just shake his head and sigh your name under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, you are just so beautiful.” 

“Jihoon… please.” 

“What? It’s true. I’ve spent the last month trying to keep that to myself and now seeing you like this and knowing that I’m actually on a date with you…” Jihoon hisses into his words before sipping at his wine to keep himself in check. You watch his tongue swipe over his lips before he meets your eyes once again. “I’m so lucky.” 

Shifting in your seat, you grab your own wine and take a drink to mostly hide your face and how overwhelmed you are. You had never had a man treat you the way Jihoon was. He had tried at the beginning of the date to be confident and collected but the longer he sat in front of you, the mask fell away and to Jihoon, there was no one else in the room besides you and him. No one else mattered. 

“You need to eat. Your food is going to get cold, Jihoon.” Smiling at your words, Jihoon glances down at his half-eaten plate and sucks at his teeth. You were right, but that didn’t make it any easier to focus on something that wasn’t you. You were the type of beauty that inspired Jihoon to write songs and he had been composing in his brain from the moment you stepped through the doors of your apartment. 

“Mm, yes, ma’am.” 

Watching Jihoon finally take another bite of his food, you press your lips together and swallow another sip of your wine. He was so different than the Jihoon you knew from work. The CEO Lee Jihoon could be almost terrifying when he wanted to be. He was stern and to the point. You had seen him reduce people to tears, but the man in front of you—you believed he would do anything for you if you asked. He would be on his knees for you, waiting with baited breath if you—taking a deep breath, you push the thought from your mind as you tip your wine glass back and empty the last of your wine into your mouth. 

Jihoon wasn’t the type of guy to try to invite himself into a girl’s place on the first date, but when you asked him if he wanted to come in for something to drink, he also wasn’t going to be an idiot and say no. He didn’t want the night to end yet. He didn’t need anything more with you; he might want it, but he wasn’t going to force it. Jihoon was just thrilled that you trusted him enough to invite him in in the first place. 

“Listen, my apartment is small. It’s nothing fancy, like seriously, my apartment could fit in your pool.” Smiling as he walked off the elevator behind you, his eyes moving over your legs and up your back, Jihoon shook his head and let out a slow breath. “None of that matters to me, Y/N. Stop worrying about stuff like that. I’m just happy to be with you for a little while longer.” 

Your heart was in your throat, not just at Jihoon’s words but at the idea of having him in your apartment. You knew it was a big deal and you knew what you were doing. No, it didn’t have to go anywhere besides just drinks and conversation, but you were beginning to hope that it would. You weren’t normally like this. You rarely brought men back to your apartment on the first date, but there was something about Jihoon and knowing that he was so busy at work and away from it that made you selfish and wanting just a little more time with him. 

Whining under your breath, you push your front door open and step inside, flicking the lights on as you kick your heels off beside the door before glancing back at Jihoon as he steps inside. He doesn’t fit and yet he does. Nothing about him screams small and cozy apartment, and yet he doesn’t look completely out of place in your space. He doesn’t look uncomfortable; instead, he looks at ease as he places his shoes next to yours and slips his jacket off. 

Everything about your apartment screamed you in Jihoon’s opinion. From the way you decorated to the way it smelled like your perfume, he was drowning in it happily. Moving into the living room, Jihoon quickly scans over the books on your shelf before finally meeting your eyes with a smile as you hang up your jacket along with his. You bite at your bottom lip and he can tell you are nervous. He was too, but there was something else that was bubbling inside of him that was bigger than his nerves every time he looked at you. 

“Um, I have wine, beer, probably the stuff for shitty margaritas.” Scratching at your neck, you walk into your kitchen, where Jihoon can no longer see you, but he can hear you as you rummage through your fridge. “Water, Coke—it’s not Coke Zero though, and I have milk.” 

Laughing under his breath, Jihoon lowers himself down on your couch and rubs his hands together, looking over the room once again at the pictures on the walls and your shelf. “Whatever you are having, as long as it’s not the Coke.” 

Jihoon smiles hearing your laugh even from a room away. He can still hear the sounds of you doing things in the kitchen and he has the urge to go help you, but he doesn’t want to crowd you or make you uncomfortable so he stays where he is. Just when he starts missing you, wanting to see your pretty face, you round the corner and lift two wine glasses, showing him the white wine you have poured for the two of you to share. 

“Hope this is okay. I know we had red at the restaurant, and I can promise this is cheap and probably disgusting... But it’s wine nonetheless.” Offering him one of the glasses, you sit on the couch near him, leaving plenty of space out of nerves. Jihoon takes the glass and instantly looks down at the space between the two of you, letting out a soft laughing sigh as he shakes his head and takes a sip of the wine. “The wine is okay; what isn’t is how far you are from me.” 

You bite your bottom lip as Jihoon shifts closer to you, his leg against yours causing you to lower your eyes to your wine before he says your name, drawing your gaze upwards to meet his. “If you want me to move, I will, but I—is it wrong of me to want to be close to you? You are so beautiful, it’s killing me. I know I’ve stared at you all night and I should apologize for that—” 

“No, no, it’s okay. You can stay here; please don’t move. I like it. I like when you look at me; it just—it’s a lot. You look at me like...” You trail off and laugh, looking away to take a sip of your wine before furrowing your brows, trying to think of the right words. Jihoon sighs, letting you have a moment to compose yourself, but in the silence he can’t help the way his eyes move over your face and down your body, landing on your hand that rests on your leg. 

Wrapping his fingers around your wrist, Jihoon turns your hand in his and strokes your arm gently, smiling when he feels chillbumps erupt under his touch and hears you take a sharp breath into your words. “It’s like I’m the only person in the world.” 

Nodding, Jihoon lifts his eyes to yours once again and leans to put his wine glass down on a coaster. Lifting his brows, Jihoon asks for silent permission to touch you as his fingers hover near your face. When you nod, he trails them along your cheek before gliding his thumb to your jawline. “You are, especially right now. Of course, Haein will always come first for me, but I have a feeling you understand that.” 

You nod and Jihoon smiles, letting his thumb barely ghost over your lips, feeling them part, a soft breath of air meeting his skin before he moves his hand to your neck and down to your shoulder and finally trailing his fingers along your bare arm and back down to your hand. “But you are so important to me. Over the time that I’ve gotten to know you, it’s been hard not to tell you all the things I’ve told you tonight.”

Shifting on the couch, you pout, and Jihoon’s name slips from your lips as he takes your wine from your hand, putting it on the table with his own, feeling a shift in the air with his confession. “I know it’s a lot and it’s fast considering where this might go, but I have to say it because I’m falling for you.” Shaking his head, Jihoon leans his head back with a half laugh and half sigh before correcting himself. “I’ve been falling for you the entire time I've known you. I’ve just been scared to death. Between everything, our previous relationship, and what you know about my daughter now…” 

It makes sense, all of his concerns. You share them and more of your own. But to say that you hadn’t been falling for Jihoon over the time you had been working for him and then even more so since you had met Haein and been introduced into his homelife, would be the biggest lie you had ever told anyone or yourself in your life. 

“What if—if this doesn’t work out?” You speak so quietly that you aren’t sure you’ve spoken out loud or that Jihoon will hear you, but he does. Nodding along with your words, he furrows his brows and leans forward as his thumb moves in small circles over your wrist, trying to calm your worries. “I don’t think in what-ifs usually, but for you this time I will entertain it. If things don’t work out, we will figure it out together. I know how I feel about you and I don’t have doubts. I know how much Haein adores you, so I don’t have doubts about that either. I just need to know how you feel, Y/N.” 

His certainty makes your head spin and your heart quicken. Taking a deep breath, you slide your hand towards Jihoon's, letting your nails scratch lightly over his palm as you nod and puff up your cheeks slightly. Smiling at how beautiful and cute you can be at the same time, Jihoon lifts his free hand to pinch lightly at your puffed up cheek, feeling you let out your breath when you finally do speak up. 

“I like you so much. If I asked you to kiss me, would you?” 

Jihoon hadn’t expected you to ask him for anything physical, but there was no way in hell he was going to deny you. Sliding his hand from your cheek to your hairline, Jihoon whispers yes as he leans in, waiting to see if you are going to ask him. When you whine, wanting him to just do it, Jihoon laughs and nudges his nose against yours. “I was waiting for you to ask.” 

“Jihoon, please! Just kiss me, oh my god.” And with that, his lips press against yours, taking your words and breath away in an instant. Melting into his touch, you whine into the kiss, your hands sliding to find something to hold on to. One hand clings to Jihoon’s forearm as the other finds his chest and grips his shirt loosely, pulling him closer to you and drawing a small groan from his lips and into yours. 

Jihoon’s head was spinning with only thoughts of yours and how good you felt against his lips. He had known the kiss would be better than he could ever imagine, but even he couldn’t have anticipated it being this good. He was already struggling to keep himself in check as your fingers lightly scratched at his chest through his shirt while your tongue brushed against his. Your sweet, breathy moans going straight to his cock that was quickly getting harder in his pants. 

“Shit, bab—Y/N.” Stopping himself before he calls you anything besides your name, Jihoon pulls back from the kiss, feeling you chase his lips. He didn’t want to stop kissing you, but this had quickly gone from a kiss to a make-out session on your couch. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. So if we need to slow down…” 

You loved that Jihoon was being respectful. You adored that he was such a sweet gentleman, but right now you didn’t want him to stop. Your lips were starting to feel numb from his kiss and it had you aching between your thighs for him. You had asked him for a kiss. Could you ask for more?

Lowering your lashes, you suck on your bottom lip and look up at Jihoon through your lashes, seeing the lustful look in his eyes that matches your own. “I don’t want to slow down, Jihoon. I—please? Can we…” 

There was something about you not even being able to say the words out loud that made Jihoon feel like he was going insane. You seemed so innocent, so pure. Groaning under his breath, Jihoon runs his fingers along your cheek and into your hairline once again before resting his forehead against yours. Licking his lips, he nods and slides his free hand along your side to test the waters and how serious you are until he reaches your hip and squeezes lightly. 

“Hm? Can we, what? What do you want, pretty girl?” Titling his head, Jihoon brushes his lips against yours, hearing you whine when he pulls them away to press a kiss on your warm cheek, speaking against your skin. “Gotta tell me.” 

Embarrassment rushes through you, and you whimper Jihoon’s name, grabbing at his shirt, muttering under your breath too low to make out. Shaking his head, Jihoon cants his head towards your mouth and shivers at the feeling of your warm breath when you repeat yourself. “Take me to bed?” 

Again, you were so innocent. You didn’t ask him to fuck you. You didn’t even ask him to sleep with you or to make love. You simply asked to be taken to bed. There were so many ways to interrupt that, but Jihoon knew what you meant. “Okay, baby. Is that okay? If I call you that?” 

Nodding, you watch Jihoon stand up as he offers his hand to you, which you take so he can help you to your feet. Feeling your knees shake a bit, you are happy for the arm that moves around your waist when Jihoon leans to brush his lips behind your ear, a playful laugh leaving his lips when you lean against him, letting him hold you upright. “I got you. Which room are we going to, baby?” 

Once Jihoon has you through the threshold of your bedroom, you finally move on your own towards your bed, reaching for a lighter to light the candle next to your bed. Jihoon glances around as the wick on the candle comes to life, providing just enough light in the room that he can look around and take in his surroundings. 

If he had thought your apartment was you, your bedroom was like getting a look inside of you. The smell of your perfume was the strongest in this room and even in the low candlelight, Jihoon could see that the colors of the room, down to the bedding, were the perfect shade for you. 

“Is that okay? I just want to be able to see you a little bit and the moon isn’t very bright tonight.” Smiling at your words, Jihoon nods as he undoes the buttons at his wrists while you sit on the side of your bed looking up at him, again so innocently—just like an angel. “It’s perfect and it smells just like you in here. Feels like I’m swimming in you; I might drown.” 

You knew that Jihoon wrote songs—no, you knew that he wrote poetry. To say that you were a fan of the music that he had composed and produced would be an understatement, but you kept yourself composed while you were at work and when you were blessed to hear something in advance and it was him singing. Hearing Jihoon say something like he might drown in you was like hearing him sing his lyrics in person to you, and now it was you who was drowning. 

“You can’t say things like that.” 

Watching you hide your face, Jihoon laughs, moving towards the bed to step between your knees. Lifting your head, his fingers lightly holding your face under your chin, he watches how big your eyes get as they meet his and he almost melts under your gaze. “Why not, baby? It’s true.” 

Shifting your legs as far apart as you can with your dress still snug around your thighs, you whine to the feeling of Jihoon’s fingers on your skin as you gain the courage to reach out and touch him. With one hand you wrap your fingers around his wrist and the other you rest it on his stomach, catching one of his shirt buttons under your nail. 

“Cause it makes me shy. I’m already so shy around you. Can’t you just—please?” You were doing it again, not using full sentences and expecting Jihoon to fill in the blanks. Luckily for you and Jihoon, his imagination was running wild with all the things he wanted to do to you and with you. 

“Yeah, I can. God, you are so pretty.” Jihoon’s fingers walk the line from your neck to your shoulder, where the strap of your dress rests. Carefully working his fingers under it, Jihoon lifts his brows like a question as he tries to take another step forward only to meet resistance and to look down at the tight skirt of your dress. “This dress is so beautiful on you, Y/N, but it’s gotta go. Can I—mm, can I take it off you?” 

You knew the question would be asked and you wanted him to take your dress off, but hearing the words made your stomach flip and your heart race. Nodding quickly, you bite at your lips and shift on the bed so quickly that Jihoon can’t help but to chuckle as he takes a step back and leans down as he shakes his head and catches your lips in a soft kiss. “Slow down, pretty girl. I’ll do it. Let me do it; I want to.” 

Speaking on Jihoon’s lips, you relax under his hands as Jihoon slides them along your outer thighs to where your dress sits tight against your skin. “Okay, Hoon.” You don’t even mean to shorten his name, but you already feel drunk off him as soon as his fingers press under the end of your dress and start to shimmy it up your body inch by inch. 

Smiling against your lips at the shortening of his name, Jihoon leans over your body, laying your back on the bed, feeling you lift your hips as his hands reach them. He only pulls away from your lips to make it easier to get your dress off, but the sight isn’t one he ever wants to forget as you arch your back and bite at your lips, giving him the honor of taking off your dress and completely leaving you in your lingerie. 

Jihoon swallows hard as his eyes move over you slowly. He hadn’t told you what his favorite color was and yet you were lying on your bed covered in it. Red lace adorns your body in all the right places, leaving just the right amount to his imagination as he gives into temptation and trails the back of his fingers between your breasts, over your stomach, and stops just on top of your clothed pussy. 

“The most gorgeous fucking woman in the universe, I swear to God. Baby, look at you. I almost don’t want to take any of this off of you.” Your cheeks and neck burn from Jihoon’s overwhelming attention as he moves his fingers back up your body, stopping to squeeze your hips and then ghosting each of your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. “Did you know this is my favorite color? Even more so now. I’ll imagine it on you all the fucking time now.” 

Turning your face from Jihoon, you smile once again feeling shy even though you are enjoying his words and his attention. The sound of Jihoon’s laugh makes your skin feel like it’s on fire, especially when his lips hover over your collarbone once he is able to stand between your legs, finally close enough to gain access to any part of you he wants. “You are so shy. God, it’s so cute, so sweet. It’s killing me. What am I gonna do with you?” 

You knew what you wanted him to do with you, but as much as you wanted to rush him and to get him inside of you there was something in your brain stopping you from doing that as Jihoon’s fingers turned your face back towards him to watch him stand back up in front of you. Your mouth falls open slightly as your eyes stay fixed on him, his nimble fingers carefully undoing the expensive shirt that you had admired more than once through out your date, and while you love the shirt on him you find that you love it on your floor even more. 

“Oh my god…” The soft exclaim leaving your lips makes Jihoon smirk, his ego inflating even slightly as he drops his shirt in the floor leaving him shirtless in front of you. He knew he was in shape, he worked hard on it and he had seen you look at him in his tanktops early in the morning at the office more than once to know you would be interested in seeing him like this. Running his hand along his abs, Jihoon grabs his belt and undoes it quickly as you squeeze you thighs together only for you to whimper when he pushes his knee between your knees and shakes his head. 

“As much as I want to see those panties get ruined, I wanna be the one doing it. Be a good girl for me and keep those thighs apart for me. I’m almost done, baby.” Nodding as you do as you are told, Jihoon moves his leg back and unbuttons his pants sucking on his bottom lip as he pushes them down in one swift motion. “That’s better. Now we are even, right?” 

You didn’t want him wearing anything. You could see the outline of his cock and it was making you equally shocked and feral. You wanted to get on your knees for him and show him what you could do with it, but at the same time you were too stunned to move, so instead you just nod and lick your lips feeling your mouth starting to water. 

Jihoon could understand the feeling as you lick your lips. He was doing the same looking at you, his eyes falling between your legs. He hadn’t been lying about wanting to ruin your panties. All he could think about was how wet you might be for him. He knew he was being cocky in hoping you might be soaking through your lace, but with how you were acting, he had a feeling he wasn’t that far off. 

“Can I touch you? Are you still okay, baby? Wanna keep going? I won’t make you—” Hearing you whine his name, Jihoon laughs understanding your answer to all his questions. “I just wanted to ask, angel. Trust me, I wanna keep going. Fuck, let me get you on this bed.” 

Gasping, you are surprised when Jihoon lifts at your hips and scoots you on the bed shifting you into the middle with almost no effort. Meeting your widened eyes, he grins moving to place one knee next to yours and the other between your knees as he looks down at you like you are a five course meal. “Didn’t think I’d move you?” 

“I–-you could have let me do it myself…” Shaking his head, Jihoon lift his hand to your shoulder pulling the strap of your bra down your arm before leaning to press his lips to your skin listening to your soft moans as he speaks against your soft skin. “I’d never ask you to do a damn thing when we are in bed. I’m gonna have you so fucking spoiled, baby.” 

Arching off the bed, you grab at the bedding under and carefully run your fingers through Jihoon’s hair for the first time as his lips find the swell of your breast over your lace. You moan not only to his words, the feeling of his lips against your skin, but also the feeling of his hair in between your fingers. You find yourself wanting to run your fingers through his hair all the time, not just in moments like this, but also when the two of you are watching a movie, laying in bed ready to sleep, or while he’s working…

Pushing the thought from your mind, you let out a soft cry when Jihoon’s teeth rake over your nipple, his fingers tugging your bra down from one breast so he can have access to your bare skin. “Fuck… You are so soft.” Swallowing hard at his own words, Jihoon shakes his head and runs his tongue around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth with a groan hearing your breathy sighs of pleasure. 

He wanted to have his lips on every single inch of your body if possible. If he could do it all at once he would, but he knew that was impossible so he was taking his time. Reaching behind your arched back, Jihoon undoes your bra feeling it give way under his fingers so he can pull it from your body giving him more access to your skin. As much as he loved the lace on your body feeling your bare skin against his was better. The feeling of your soft breasts against his face was heaven as he pressed kisses from one nipple to the other taking it into his mouth with a satisfied groan. 

There was no way to explain how good you tasted. Your skin tasted perfect on Jihoon’s tongue and he hadn’t even made it past your chest. His cock was leaking heavily in his briefs as he rolled his hips against your thigh, his own pressed against the wet lace covering your pussy. With each movement, each groan from Jihoon, he would rock his thigh against you drawing out another moan that would cause his cock to jerk. 

“So good. You sound so pretty, baby. Just taking my time...” You were too drunk off the feeling of Jihoon’s mouth and body against yours to be upset that he was taking his time, but you could tell that he was. You had never had someone move so slowly with you. If it had been any other man in your bed, their cock would have already been in you without much or any prep, and it would have been done in moments—but Jihoon was slowly making his way down your body, kissing every mole and scar as he went. 

When Jihoon did finally reach your hips, you bit your lips, feeling his fingers push into the sides of your panties, resting over your hipbones. Glancing down at him, your breath quick and uneven, you meet his eyes and see him smile before he presses a kiss just below your belly button. 

What happens next leaves you breathless when Jihoon’s tongue runs from your mouth just above your ass to your mound over your lace, letting him taste you through your panties. Smirking against the lace, Jihoon meets your eyes once again as he nips at your pussy through your panties, feeling your thighs quiver on either side of his head. Only when whispered pleads are falling from your lips does Jihoon’s fingers finally start to tug your panties down your legs so he can drop them to the floor along with the rest of your clothes. 

“I told you I wanted to ruin them. I always keep my promises, babe.” Jihoon watches you swallow hard as you try to catch your breath, already feeling the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. “Now let me see you.” Spreading your legs once again, Jihoon groans as he watches the candlelight hit your glistening folds. He had been right about how wet you were. He was starving for you and he wasn’t done worshipping you. 

Running his fingers along your legs from your ankles to your thighs, Jihoon keeps his eyes on yours as he lowers himself back between your legs to press a kiss to each of your thighs before doing the same to your wet pussy. 

Licking his lips, Jihoon closes his eyes to the first real taste of you, a shiver running through his body before he adjusts between your legs and pulls you closer to him, making you gasp. One hand wrapped around your leg at your hip, Jihoon spreads your folds, while with the other he carefully circles your dripping hole with his index finger before working it in feeling you clench around it. 

“Shit… Tight. Gotta relax for me, okay, baby?” Jihoon watches you nod even though you aren’t sure how he expects you to relax when he thrusts his finger into it, and it feels so good. You aren’t sure how he wants you to stop clenching around his finger tightly when he finally runs his tongue between your folds and groans finding your clit and sucking on it. You only manage to push down on his finger and tighten around it more. “Fuck, taste so good.” 

Leaning his head back to shake his hair from his face, Jihoon smiles when you thread your fingers back into his hair. Not only does he enjoy the feeling of your fingers in his hair, but it also lets him get back to work. With a second finger joining the first, Jihoon’s mouth is back on your folds. He gently sucks them into his mouth and hums in appreciation as he once again works his way back up to your waiting clit, flicking his tongue against it, causing you to practically scream his name. 

You had been so quiet up to that point that when you scream his name, Jihoon closes his eyes and ruts his hips into the mattress, afraid he is going to cum from just the sound alone. The pressure that had been building inside of you comes to a head and with one more brush of Jihoon’s fingers against your spot, you come undone. 

Tugging tightly at his hair, you whimper Jihoon’s name much quieter this time as your cum seeps around his fingers. Groaning to the feeling of his hair being pulled and the taste of your cum on his tongue, Jihoon carefully slips his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue until you are closing your thighs around him and begging him to stop. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Jihoon sucks the fingers of his other hand clean as he watches you catch your breath. Smirking around his fingers, he watches a smile spread over your lips when you realize he’s watching you closely. “Stop it… I’m shy.” 

“I know. I’m not sure I ever want you to lose that. It’s driving me crazy.” Putting his hand next to your head, Jihoon rests back between your legs so he can kiss you softly. The feeling of your hands tracing his sides makes him shiver and grin against your lips before he deepens the kiss. Groaning into the kiss, Jihoon finally pulls back to look down at you as you stare up at him breathless once again, an almost fucked-out look on your face before he’s even been inside of you. 

“Gotta have you, baby. Will you let me?” Whining his name, you nod to Jihoon’s words, watching him smile once again as you squirm under him. “Gotta be patient. I gotta…” Moving to the side, Jihoon groans as he tugs his briefs down his legs, hissing as the air hits his hard cock. “Better, now I can—what’s that look for?” 

Your eyes had widened almost dramatically by the time Jihoon had turned back to you. Holding back his laugh, he tilts his head and glances down at his cock, lifting his brow before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his shaft, helping you wrap your fingers around him. “Was it about my cock? I'm not that big, baby… So tell me what’s going on in that pretty head.” 

Shaking your head, you bite your lips as Jihoon guides your hand along with his to his head, collecting some pre-cum so he can stroke his cock slowly. “It’s perfect… God, I sound so stupid, but you’re…like everything.” Lifting your free hand to hide your face, you groan in embarrassment, feeling Jihoon’s hand fall from yours, letting you do the same. 

“Baby…” Now he was laughing, but you could tell it wasn’t at you. Instead, Jihoon was enamored by you. He had been falling for you before and now he had fallen, hard. Moving your hand, Jihoon kisses your fingers and palm before doing the same to your cheeks and lips. “Thank you, it’s not stupid. You’re perfect. You make me feel so good about how I look. I hope I do the same for you.” 

He had done more than that. You were no stranger to being self-conscious, but with how Jihoon had spent what felt like hours worshipping your body, you felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. Nodding, you lean your head against the pillows and pout. Jihoon smirks, reaching up to push his thumb against your bottom lip. 

“Now… Can I make love to you? Cause that's all I wanna do in this bed. It’s what I’ve been dreaming of doing since... Fuck, I can’t even tell you how long.” 

You hadn’t expected those words from Jihoon. You didn’t know that he wanted to make love to you. Love was such a scary but wanted word for you. You wanted to love him, and maybe you already did, but you weren’t going to say it out of fear of scaring him away. “Please, it’s what I want, too.” 

Fingers once again move over your skin, trailing along your side to your hip as Jihoon nods. His lips find yours before quickly moving to your jaw and then your neck, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow with a moan. Before you could feel his cock throb behind his briefs, but now it lay heavy against your thigh and pre-cum was leaking on to your skin with each sound dripping from your mouth. 

“Please... need you.” 

Jihoon loved how shy you were, but he also loved hearing you tell him what you wanted. You needed him. Needed. He’d give you the world, but tonight he’d make sure you had everything you wanted before he’d let himself have a single thing. “Anything, baby. It’s yours.” 

Jihoon’s words are muffled against your throat as his fingers slide along your leg to your knee, pulling it up to his hip. You gasp, feeling his finger brush through your folds, before you feel the same thing with the head of his cock and finally the stretch of him pushing into you slowly. 

You had felt like heaven on Jihoon’s fingers and tongue, but it was nothing compared to how you felt around his cock. Even before he was completely inside of you, Jihoon felt like he couldn’t breathe with how tightly you were holding him and with how your body was pulling him closer. 

“Sh-shit… fuck.” Resting his forehead against your shoulder, Jihoon stays still, his hips flush with yours, feeling your walls quiver around him. He waits for you to tell him to move, not just to make sure you have adjusted but also to give himself a moment to calm down. He felt like he could cum instantly. It had been too long since he had been with anyone and you felt better than anyone he had ever been with. It was like you had been made for him specifically. 

Rubbing your hands along his arms, you feel tears collect on the rims of your eyes as the stretch eases and becomes pleasure. You find yourself wanting Jihoon to move, needing him to move, and wanting to feel his cock deeper, harder, and faster. Leaning your head towards his, you kiss his temple and whisper, “Move, please, Hoon.” 

He starts slow, each thrust smooth and precise, but quickly as your and his breath become more moans than anything, the thrusts become urgent and full of need. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” You weren’t sure why Jihoon’s words made you clench harder around him. Why did hearing him whine your name as he fucked into you so hard as his fingers moved to lace with yours against the mattress make you feel like you were floating? 

Jihoon grunts before his lips find yours once again, his kiss desperate and passionate. He nips at your lips before licking his tongue into your mouth, feeling your tongue against his own. There is something different about this kiss—more heated and important than any other kiss than any other kiss that either of you have shared with any other person in your life. Both of you seem to feel it as your fingers tighten in his grasp, the feeling of electricity passing between your touch and his as the coil in your abdomen snaps once again. 

While Jihoon had loved the feeling of you cumming on his fingers, feeling you cum on his cock was another thing all together. He could barely keep his head as he watched the bliss take over your face, the way your lips parted, and how your eyes fluttered closed. It was enough to push him over the edge right behind you. 

Panic takes over Jihoon; you hear him curse under his breath and feel him slip from you before the feeling of his warm cum hits your lower stomach and thighs. Groaning, he strokes his cock, feeling it soften in his hand. It wasn’t how Jihoon would have preferred to finish, but you had felt too good and his climax had almost snuck up on him. 

Leaning to rest his head against your chest, Jihoon takes a deep breath, feeling your fingers run through his hair as he listens to your heart racing. “I gotta get you cleaned up. That was not the plan. I’m sorry, babe.” Jihoon places a kiss to the top of your breast before meeting your eyes, a shy look in his eyes as you shake your head and smile at him. 

“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I—” Laughing, you turn your head embarrassed, lifting your hand to bite at your thumbnail, making Jihoon curious at what you were going to say. “What? Hey, come on. Tell me?” Gently pulling your hand from your lips, Jihoon tilts his head, shifting from between your legs to your side. 

You swallow hard and glance down at your stomach and legs to where his cum paints your skin before sighing and avoiding his eyes as you speak. “You could have stayed inside of me. I’m on birth control, Jihoon.” 

Laying back on your bed, Jihoon runs his hand over his face with a groan, feeling his cock twitch slightly to your words. “You can’t say something like that to me. I can’t get hard again this quick.” Rolling off your bed, Jihoon glances around before pointing at your bedroom door as you laugh, watching him try to orient himself. “Bathroom is across the hall.” 

You were doing your best not to act like things were different between you and Jihoon, but the moment you stepped into the office, you were hyper aware of every little detail. You would realize you were staring at his door too long or that you were smiling at him just a little too widely before you’d quickly look away and fiddle with something on your desk. 

Jihoon, on the other hand, wasn’t that concerned. He was enjoying your lingering glances and seeing a smile on your face. He wasn’t being subtle about how he was looking at you. Why would he be? You were so beautiful and his. He wanted to scream that at the top of his lungs, but he could tell that you were still nervous about it so he kept his affection for you subtle at first. 

Gentle touches to your shoulder that would move to your neck when he thought no one else was looking or whispering compliments against your ear as he leaned behind you to look at something on your computer. He was just observing your work; no one could blame him. 

It was all driving you crazy, and neither of you were being as subtle as you thought as Soonyoung smirked at the two of you from his desk. He knew about the date and now, watching as you sighed with a lovesick look on your face as Jihoon closed his door, leaving you to work, Soonyoung laughs under his breath, drawing your attention. “What? Why are you laughing at me?” 

Putting up his hands, Soonyoung grins and turns his chair back towards his desk before leaning back in it so that he can still look at you. “You’re cute, Y/N.” Mocking your soft sigh, Soonyoung puts his hand on his chest and your cheeks heat up instantly. You hadn’t even realized you had been doing it, but hearing it come out of Soonyoung’s mouth made it obvious. 

“What am I missing?” Lifting his brow, Wonwoo taps his pen against his desk as he leans forward, curious about the conversation he was being left out of. You looked like you had been caught doing something bad and Soonyoung looked like that cat who ate the canary. “Mingyu, do you know what Soonyoung is going on about?” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu looks from you to the other man and purses his lips before shaking his head and looking back at his computer. “I don’t know. Y/N has been breathing louder than usual today... I just figured she had a cold.” 

Nodding along with Mingyu’s words, Soonyoung gestures towards you and laughs under his breath. “She is sick, aren’t you? Love sick?” Shocked at Soonyoung’s words, you try to defend yourself when Mingyu looks up surprised; now the conversation has his attention. 

“I—what? No…that’s—shut up, Soonyoung.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes hearing Soonyoung teasing you. He knew it was bound to happen. He didn’t care if any of them knew about the relationship between you and him. He was proud to call you his, but listening to you try to come up with an excuse was making his blood boil with something akin to jealousy. Jihoon didn’t want you to say there wasn’t anything between the two of you or that you were seeing anyone else. You were his, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Just as you start to say something else, come up with some excuse as to why you are acting the way you are. Jihoon’s office door opens and the room falls silent. Glancing around at each desk, Jihoon lifts his brow at the shift in the air before laughing under his breath. “Idiots…” 

“Huh?” Your sweet, confused voice brings Jihoon back to his reason for leaving his office in the first place. Looking down at you, he coos and shakes his head, running his fingers along your cheek leaving you frozen in place. “Not you, baby. Those idiots. I have to run out for a bit. Keep this place running for me.” 

Nodding, you swallow hard as Jihoon calls you baby in front of everyone. Not daring to look around even though you feel eyes on you, instead you meet Jihoon’s eyes and his possessive gaze. “Thank you.” You start to respond, you aren’t even sure what—maybe a no problem or a you’re welcome—but Jihoon’s lips brush over yours and any thought that was in your head is gone as if it never existed. 

Frozen in place, you only manage to watch Jihoon pull his car keys from his pants pocket as he walks by Soonyoung’s desk and pushes his chair inwards. “Work on something, moron. Earn what I pay you.” 

The sound of the office door closing and low whistles bring you back to reality. You feel the heat radiating from your cheeks and neck before you look down, smiling at your keyboard, unsure what to think or do. 

“Holy shit, Y/N.” 

“No, see… ‘Cause I knew they went on a date. I just didn’t know it went THAT well. I want all the fucking details, baby.” 

The voices of the others in the office overlap as they continue to gossip about you and Jihoon, wanting you to give them anything, but you can only focus on the feeling of where Jihoon’s lips were. 

“She’s gone. We’ve lost her. Nothing left in her head. What do you mean you knew about it, Soonyoung?” 

Even a month into a relationship with you, Jihoon finds himself needing to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. He can’t get over how lucky he is as he watches you with Haein and how natural this all comes to you. 

When he had adopted Haein, it was difficult. She had been a baby and there was a lot that Jihoon didn’t know. Luckily he had the support of his mother, but there was still a huge learning curve and a ton of sleepless nights filled with a crying baby, but he had a feeling that you would have picked up on motherhood so naturally. 

“Isn’t Y/N dress so pretty, Haein?” 

Your cheeks heat up as you glance towards the kitchen, seeing Jihoon smirking at you from behind the island as he preps dinner. Not only was the compliment from him making you weak but also just the sigh of him doing something so incredibly domestic. You loved this more than you had admitted to anyone. Yes, you had let it slip here and there to family and friends how much you were falling for Jihoon and this family dynamic, but you had never said it to him. 

“It’s the mostest pretty. She’s the prettiest! I hope I can grow up and be as pretty as you, Miss Y/N.” Haein’s voice causes your chest to tighten and your heart to beat hard as you look at her sitting across from you at the coffee table. Shaking your head, you reach out to run your fingers over her cute face, hearing her giggle as she leans into your touch. 

While you had fallen in love with Jihoon, you had fallen in love with Haein in a completely different way. You wanted this little girl in your life in some shape or form, no matter what happened between you and Jihoon. She had become far too important to you over the space of a month. 

“You are so pretty, Haein. You are only going to get even more beautiful.” Tapping the tip of her nose, you watch the girl smile brightly at you as her shoulders rise and fall with a big breath. Jihoon’s smile matches Haein’s before he sighs and shakes his head, feeling his heart beating harder now. 

“My beautiful girls. How did I get so lucky, huh?” 

While Jihoon’s words make Haein giggle, your fingers holding hers as you paint them a soft pink, the words have a different effect on you. You smile but you have to bite at your cheek to keep back your emotions as Haein sighs dramatically and shrugs. “Just lucky, daddy.” 

Noticing how quiet you’ve gotten as he puts the chicken into the pan, Jihoon grins at his daughter before turning his attention to you. He knew you were trying to do a good job at painting Haein’s nails, but there was something on your mind. He knew that look—your brows furrowed and your lips pursed slightly—but before he has the chance to ask if you are okay, Haein’s voice once again feels the empty space, completely unaware of anything going on. 

“Daddy, can I have soda? I’ve only had one today. Ask Miss Y/N. I’ve been really good!” 

The look on your face is quickly replaced by fondness as you look up at Haein reaching for her other hand. Tilting your head, you glance over to Jihoon, meeting his eyes and smiling at him as you wait for his answer about Haein’s soda, putting him on the spot. 

“I—this feels like a trap. The rule is one soda a day. You’re using Y/N to get your way... That seems unfair, Haein.” Jihoon can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips when Haein tries to pout, but a laugh quickly takes the place of it and she sighs, looking at you for support. 

“Tell him, I was real good. Wasn’t I? I cleaned my room, almost. Least the clothes. That’s prog-dress!” 

You want to be on Jihoon’s side and tell her to stick to the rules, but the moment she tries to quote Jihoon and mispronounces the word progress, you lose any hope at telling her no. Whining softly, you look from Haein to Jihoon and tilt your head only to see him roll his eyes and lean his head back with an annoyed groan. “Fine, one more soda, you little cheater.” 

Looking down at her fingers as she wiggles in place, Haein waits for you to finish the last one before she stands and starts to move towards the kitchen, only to hear you gasp her name. “Haein, baby, let me get it for you. Your nails aren’t dry yet.” 

You hadn’t called her many sweet names before, so hearing you call her baby like her daddy had before puts a pout on Haein’s face as she moves to your side and wraps her arms around your neck. “Okay, Miss Y/N.” 

Furrowing your brows, you put your arms around Haein at the sudden affection, looking towards the kitchen where Jihoon watches as he finishes up dinner. You can see the happy, enamored look on his face as he simply nods at you and turns to pull plates from the cabinet. 

Brushing your fingers through Haein’s hair, you lean your head back to look at the girl, seeing a pout on her lips that causes your smile to drop almost instantly in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

Nodding, Haein looks down shyly before muttering, “I just like you a lot. I hope my daddy lets you be my mommy. Is that cheating?”

Closing your eyes, you swallow hard as you shake your head and lean your head forward, resting your forehead against Haein’s and running your hand along her back. “No, it’s not. You know your daddy was kidding before, right? He’s just picking on you about the soda.” 

You hear Jihoon moving in the kitchen, perhaps getting closer to you and Haein in the living room, but you keep your attention on the little girl in your arms as she sniffles. It isn’t until you feel the couch dip behind you and feel Jihoon’s arm move around you so that he can run it over Haein’s head that you know for sure he’s joined you both. 

“What’s this about, huh? Soda? I said you could have it. I even made the chicken you like.” 

Glancing up at her dad, Haein pouts at him and it almost breaks Jihoon’s heart as she slides from your arms and moves to him letting him hold her closely. “Hey, seriously, what’s going on?” Leaning back against the couch and Jihoon’s legs, you sigh softly and tilt your head back enough to meet his questioning eyes. Haein had spoken quietly and Jihoon must not have heard what she said. You knew you needed to tell him why she was acting like she was, but it was a lot to say to your boyfriend of a month. 

“Uh, she’s okay, I think. Just… said she likes me and said that she hopes—um.” Licking your lips, you look down away from Jihoon, hoping it will make it less awkward to say. “That... you marry me and then she asked if that was cheating.” Laughing softly, a bit awkwardly, you press your lips together as Jihoon whispers, “Oh,” under his breath and rocks Haein gently. 

“No, baby… That’s not cheating. Hey, I like Y/N. So, so, so much. Let’s leave the adult stuff like mommy and daddy stuff to us though, okay? That’s important business, not chicken dinner business.” 

He was good at this, being a dad. You knew it wasn’t what he had planned but to you, Jihoon was made for it. You watched as Haein’s frown slowly turned into the smile you loved and quickly she was giggling as Jihoon’s fingers ran along her sides, tickling her. Jihoon had her nodding and then running towards the dining room table ahead of you both with the promise of soda before you could even think of the right words to help. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean your head back while keeping your eyes clear of Jihoon’s. You could still feel the warmth plaguing your cheeks and when Jihoon’s fingers brush over them so does he. “Someone is embarrassed.” Rolling your eyes, you do finally look at Jihoon before leaning away from his hand, causing him to laugh and reach further to pinch your cheek. “It’s cute, baby. She likes you that much. That’s a huge deal.” 

You knew it was; you honestly didn’t need Jihoon to remind you. It was weighing on you like a ton of bricks because what if Jihoon didn’t like you that much? Nodding, you sigh and move to your feet as Jihoon’s eyes stay on you. “Mm, well, like you said, this is not a chicken dinner business, Mr. Lee. Come on.” Offering him your hand, you finally smile, and Jihoon matches it, sliding his hand into yours. 

Collecting dishes while ignoring Jihoon’s complaints, you move around to Haein’s empty seat before slapping at his hand as it slides along the back of your leg near your ass. Quickly glancing over your shoulder, you lean around the wall to look at Haein playing with her dolls. 

“Quit, Jihoon. She might see and how are you going to explain that one to a five-year-old? Do you want to explain the birds and the bees this early?” 

Grinning, he slips from his seat and slides his hand along your arm, taking the plates from your hand hearing you whine even as his lips press to your cheek. “She’s not even in the room and she’s not paying attention. Go, I’ll put these in the sink and then I’ll get her to bed.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon watches as you sigh and tilt your head, not wanting to give up. “Shoo. I wanna spend time with you tonight and I can’t until the little monster is asleep.” 

You want to keep pouting or maybe stoic at Jihoon’s words, but it’s impossible when he nudges you and practically whines his words to get you moving. “Fine, fine. Hurry up.” Watching him over your shoulder, you move into the living room towards Haein, sitting on the couch behind her. It’s easy to tell she’s tired even as she pretends not to be, something you know she tends to do especially when you are around wanting just a few more minutes with you. 

Trying to hide her yawn in her elbow, Haein looks up at you with a big smile but you can see the way her eyes are watering from such a big yawn. “Hi sleepy girl. Are you ready for bed?” 

Shaking her head, Haein pouts dramatically, picking up the brush for her doll's hair as she leans back against your legs, letting you hold on to her. “No, not yet. I want you and daddy to tuck me in tonight. Dat okay? You’re not too sleepy, right?” As if she’s suddenly concerned you might be too tired to help her, Haein looks up at you searching your eyes, but only sees your smile. 

“I’m not tired. I’d be happy to help your daddy.” 

Wiggling happily in your arms, Haein looks toward Jihoon when he finally moves into the living room. Lifting her doll towards him, she giggles and leans back against your chest as if she’s claiming you. “Miss Y/N is gonna help tuck me in.” 

Rolling his eyes, unable to hide his smile, Jihoon sighs and nods. “I heard, so why don’t you get your booty moving then, huh?” 

Patting Haein’s stomach, you hear her laugh before she starts moving, grabbing the rest of her dolls and running towards the hallway and her room. Shaking his head, Jihoon groans under his breath as he runs his fingers through his hair, following after her. “Haein! What did I tell you about running in the house?” 

You stay where you are for a moment longer, enjoying seeing yet another domestic moment from Jihoon. You wanted to capture little moments like that and put them in a book that you could look back on and remember for the rest of your life. You wanted to remember the feeling of Haein in your arms, her sweet laugh against your ear, before she happily ran off only to see Jihoon halfheartedly grumble about some rule that he wasn’t that strict about. This was your happy place now. 

Hearing your name from the other room, you move to your feet and finally follow Jihoon and Haein into her bedroom. You see Jihoon putting her dolls back into her toy chest as Haein, now dressed in her pajama’s smiles at you from her bed, lifting her hands, making grabby hands. 

“I’m coming; don’t worry.” 

Looking over his shoulder, Jihoon scoffs seeing Haein reaching for you as you sit on the side of her bed, pushing her covers up to her chest. “Why am I here again? To put up toys?” 

“Daddy…” 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

You smile when Jihoon sits on the other side of Haein’s small bed and leans to press a kiss to her forehead. Sighing, he sits back and tucks the covers you had moved around her body as he lifts his brow, watching how big her smile gets as she looks from him to you and back. “What? Why are you looking at us like that?” 

Reaching for one of his hands and one of yours, Haein pulls them up to her lips, placing a kiss on each one before sighing happily. “Nothin’ daddy. Today was a good day. I love you.” 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon lets out a slower breath and nods in agreement with his daughter. It had been a good day. “I love you too, baby.” 

You were trying not to let your emotions get the better of you as you rubbed your thumb along the back of Haein’s hand and pressed your lips together when she looked at you again and smiled brightly, reminding you of a mixture of Jihoon and the picture of Jihoon’s brother in his office. 

“I love you, Miss Y/N. I hope you sleeps good. Thank you for tucking me in.” 

Leaning your head back to stop the tears that had gathered on the rims of your eyes from falling, you nod and laugh softly as you sniff lightly before looking down at Haein. “You’re welcome and I hope you sleep good.” Looking at Jihoon, uncertain if you should say that you love Haein back, you see the fondness in his eyes so you simply smile and meet Haein’s eyes once again. “And I love you too.” 

It was a big step you had made with Haein and Jihoon with those three little words, but you had meant them. Haein was thrilled to hear them, leaning up to hug you tightly before curling up back into her bed and whispering her goodnights to you both. Jihoon kept his eyes on you, reaching for your hand as he walked through the door, only stopping to close it behind him, telling Haein he loved her once more before letting it click behind him. 

You were nervous and Jihoon could tell. He could feel your hand trembling in his; he could feel how you almost wanted to pull away from him, but he wasn’t going to let you spiral. Instead, he pulled you back to him as soon as the two of you were in the living room and held you close, resting his lips against the side of your head. 

“Thank you, Y/N. That meant a lot to her and to me.” 

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly, resting against Jihoon, feeling his fingers run along your back as he soothes your nerves. It was scary to be this close to someone emotionally and yet it was all you wanted when it came to Jihoon and Haein. When you weren’t with them, it felt like you were homesick. 

“Mm, I was hoping that it wasn’t crossing the line. I never wanna do—”

Shaking his head, Jihoon leans back and cups your cheek in his hand, causing you to stop speaking mid sentence. You can see the look in his eyes. He didn’t want you to finish what you were going to say. You were always doubting yourself, especially when it came to him and Haein, and perhaps you didn’t need to. 

“Enough of that, please? You are so important to us. You’ve never crossed a line. I—” Sighing, Jihoon slides his fingers down from your face to your neck as he looks over your face, trying to think of the right thing to say. You hear the slight whine in his voice, the nervousness that he has to fight in order to get out his words. “I love you, Y/N.” 

The tears that you had to fight back in Haein’s room weren’t nearly as easy when it came to Jihoon. Turning your head from him, you close your eyes and still tears manage to slip on to your cheeks before you can reach up to wipe them away. Concerned, Jihoon leans his head towards yours and gently turns your face back towards him to see you smiling, a soft whine of protest slipping from your lips that makes him laugh when he realizes you are okay. 

“I thought—why are you crying, baby? I didn’t mean to make you sad.” 

Shaking your head, you reach up with one hand to hold Jihoon’s wrist as you open your eyes and pout at him when you see the smile on his face. “I’m not sad, Jihoon. I’m really happy. I’m so happy that it’s stupid. I don’t deserve any of this.” Gesturing towards the hall behind him, you sniff back more tears as Jihoon reaches up with his free hand to swipe away your tears with his thumb. “Not Haein loving me and especially not you.” 

You watch as Jihoon’s head tilts in confusion, as if your words were in another language that he couldn’t possibly understand. Reaching for your hand, Jihoon sighs under his breath and walks you a few steps backwards as you whine his name until you feel the wall behind your back. “Says who? You deserve the world, Y/N and if it’s the last fucking thing I do, I’ll make sure you get it. So don’t you say shit like that. I meant what I said. I love you. So, if you love me too…” Sighing once again, Jihoon looks nervous once again, almost avoiding your eyes until he makes himself meet them so you know he’s serious. “Say it back.” 

Jihoon was one in a million. You think back to that day when you walked in, nervous and falling over your feet at your interview. You had sat down in front of him and the other men who you now called some of your best friends, but you had made eye contact with Jihoon first. Never in your life did you think that you would end up where you are now and be able to look at him and tell him exactly how you were feeling. 

“I do, Jihoon. I love you.”

Sighing in relief, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours and smiles softly. You feel his hands slide along your arms down to your hands, where he links his fingers with yours. He stays like that for a moment until he can’t stand not to have your lips on his and then he gives into his need and tilts his head, finding what he wants. The soft sigh that leaves your lips causes Jihoon to furrow his brows as his right hand tightens in your left before he drops your right and slides his hand along your side, pushing you tighter against the wall. 

Jihoon speaks against your lips between kisses, “I gotta get you somewhere else. Fuck, baby… I’ve been thinking about this. About you all day.” 

Leaning your head back as Jihoon brushes his lips against your jaw, you smile, feeling shy, though you know it’s just the two of you in the room. You knew that Haein was in her room and hopefully asleep, but you knew it was better if the two of you didn’t start something like this in the living room. Jihoon’s confession of his thoughts about you makes you swoon as you whine his name, pulling at his hand and leaning towards the left and the hallway that would take you both towards his room. 

“Mm, I know. You’re right.” Kissing your neck, Jihoon relishes in the sound of your choked moans before he pulls away, feeling how tight his pants have gotten from just kissing you. Tugging on your hand, he glances over at you, seeing that look in your eye—the one that quickly became one of his favorites. You still seemed so innocent even though Jihoon had ravished you in his bed and yours more than once over the span of your relationship. You were batting your lashes at him, looking down and smiling like you were shy about the entire situation, it was driving Jihoon crazy. 

Pushing open the door to his room, Jihoon feels you pull towards his bed, only for him to guide you back towards him. “Nu-uh, baby. Not yet… I have other plans for us. How does a bath sound?” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you can’t help the way your lips pull up into a giddy smile at the idea of taking a bath with Jihoon. You loved every moment with him. He made you feel like royalty no matter what the two of you were doing, but in bed you were his goddess, and he took his time with you. You could only imagine how good he could make you feel with warm water surrounding your body. 

Nodding, you keep your fingertips resting on Jihoon’s as he leads you into his large ensuite before he finally drops your hand and moves to the oversized soaker tub, turning on the taps as he sits on the side of the tub. You had been in his bathroom a few times, but it never ceased to amaze you just how different he was living compared to you. 

You were used to a small bathroom with a shower tub combo, and Jihoon’s ensuite had an open shower with a rainshower head, a soaker tub, and a double vanity. It was almost overwhelming how much space there was, and you find yourself daydreaming about what Haein had said and if you might end up here one day. How would you ever really adjust? It was nice for a visit, almost like a luxury vacation, but could you handle this every day? 

Jihoon watches you as you seem to wander in the bathroom, your fingers running over the quartz countertop as his fingers trail through the warm water that was beginning to rise in the tub. You were almost overwhelming and stunning. He could watch you forever, just enjoying being in your presence. If it weren’t for the small pout on your lips and the need racing through him, Jihoon might let you keep wandering, but instead he reaches for your hand and brings you back to reality and to him.

“What were you thinking about so hard, beautiful?” Reaching behind you, Jihoon finds the zipper of your dress and slowly pulls it down, letting his other hand rest on your hip as you look down at him thoughtfully. 

Shrugging, you lift your hand and run it through Jihoon’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead before smiling with a shake of your head. “Nothing important. Just admiring the bathroom. It’s really nice.” 

Taking a look around the room quickly, Jihoon shrugs a bit and tilts his head as he lifts his hands and slides your dress off your shoulders, letting it fall on its own to the floor at your feet. His eyes move from your face down your body as he takes in a deep breath of appreciation for what’s in front of him. 

“You’re worth admiring, baby. I’ll never get over this. If I get the chance—” Smiling to himself, Jihoon bites his lip and leans to kiss your stomach before gaining the courage to finish his thought. “If I get the chance to, I wanna undress you every day for the rest of our lives.” Glancing up at you as he reaches to gently tug the straps of your bra down your arms, Jihoon gauges your reaction before he smirks. “Is that too forward?” 

You understand the implications of what Jihoon is saying, but you aren’t sure how to answer or if you remember how to breathe, so instead you just whine his name. Whining Jihoon’s name was something you were good at. He seemed to understand what you were trying to say anytime you did it, so you hoped he would this time as well. 

Shaking his head as you whine, Jihoon stares as more of your skin is exposed, each cup of your bra falling forward, allowing your breasts to spill out for him. “I know, baby. It’s okay, just let me take care of you.” Reaching behind him, Jihoon turns off the water and returns to his task of undressing you. 

With each piece of clothing that hits the floor, his lips walk over your skin and he leaves you breathless and dripping. Gripping at Jihoon’s skin, you find yourself whimpering when he takes your hands, pulling them from his shirt so he can stand up and take a step away from you. 

“Here, angel. Get in the tub for me.” Taking Jihoon’s hand, you let out a happy sigh as you step into the warm water, feeling the warmth run from your toes to your head instantly. Settling into the water allows you to finally look up at Jihoon, and you realize he is still dressed. He had spent his entire time undressing you and getting you comfortable before he had even paid himself any attention. 

“Hoon… I—why didn’t you let me help you? Come here, baby.”

As much as Jihoon loved hearing you call him baby and as much as he wanted your hands on him, he was enjoying the sight of you in the water even more. Shaking his head, he smiles and works the buttons of his shirt open, quickly dropping it on the floor as you pout up at him. “Don’t pout, baby. Lay back for me... Shit, you look so beautiful. Does that feel good?” 

Jihoon watches as you do as he asks; you do lean back and you think you might ���punish” him for not letting him touch him by touching yourself. You quickly find that it has the opposite effect on him; he doesn’t feel punished. Instead, Jihoon feels honored to see your fingers move over your body and between your legs. 

Nodding to Jihoon’s question, you move your legs apart further, letting him see through the clear water as you drag your middle finger through your folds over your clit. “Yeah, it does, but Jihoon?” 

Groaning to the sound of your voice, Jihoon tugs hard on his belt, pulling it loose quickly. “Yeah, baby? Fuck, you are killing me.” 

“I want you in this tub with me. Can you go faster?” 

That was all the inspiration Jihoon needed to get his pants and briefs off in record time. Kicking them free of his foot, Jihoon curses under his breath as he moves towards the tub, keeping his eyes on your fingers under the water. He had been enjoying the visual, but now he was getting possessive. He was a jealous man and that came to even you touching yourself. He preferred to be the one making you moan. 

Getting into the tub behind you, Jihoon slides his legs on either side of yours before reaching around your body to grab your hand and pull it carefully from your pussy. With his lips next to your ear, Jihoon grins and takes your hand from the water, bringing your fingers to your lips as he sighs. “Enough of that. I’m here now, but tell me... How does my beautiful girl taste?” 

Opening your mouth, you let Jihoon put your fingers on your tongue before closing your lips around them and sucking them clean. There isn’t much of your taste on them after being in the water, just enough that to know that you were wet despite being in the tub. Leaning your head back to pull your fingers from your mouth, you take a breath and lick your lips. “Okay, but not as good as I know you taste.” 

Jihoon knew differently. He knew that you were the best thing he had ever tasted in his life. Letting go of your hand, Jihoon runs his fingers between your breasts and over your stomach until he finally can dip them between your legs to where your fingers had once been. Turning his fingers slightly towards his palm, he works two of his fingers into your warm entrance as you moan his name. 

You were already clenching around his fingers and Jihoon knew starting with two was pushing you, but between the water and how slick you felt, he knew you could take it. He could feel your pussy sucking his fingers in as your clit started to throb against his palm. “Such a good fucking girl. I love this pussy so much.” Turning his head towards yours, Jihoon presses a kiss to your neck and groans as he rocks his hips against your ass and back, letting you feel his hard cock pressing against you. “Baby… I’m gonna fuck you so full.” 

Resting your head back against Jihoon’s shoulder, you hold on to his thigh under the water as his fingers thrust into you, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Between his fingers and his words, Jihoon was taking you to the edge and he wasn’t looking back. “Please, please, please... Oh, my god!” 

Water moves like a wave as you arch your body hard, pushing against Jihoon’s fingers to fuck yourself on them as you ride out your orgasm. Gasping loudly, you close your eyes tightly and dig your nails into his thigh before falling slack against his body, your thighs shaking. 

“Goddamn, babe. That was so fucking hot.” Sliding his fingers from you, Jihoon’s speaks against your neck between kisses. “I gotta see your pretty face. Please, honey?” Kissing up to your ear, Jihoon runs his fingers back up your stomach to your breast, squeezing gently as he practically begs you to turn around in the tub to face him. 

With a deep breath, you nod once you feel like you can move. Letting Jihoon help you move, you shift on his lap to sit on over his thighs. “This better?” 

Able to see you and touch you, Jihoon runs his hands along your sides to your hips and around to your back as he leans back in the tub. This was much better. This was like a dream. You had asked to ride him a few times, but each time you had seemed shy when the moment came. Now you were in the perfect position to do it. “Much… I can see your face and—” Reaching down to stroke his cock, Jihoon lifts his brows as he nudges his head between your folds, causing you to gasp and jerk in surprise at the feeling. “You can sit on my cock.” 

Jihoon had talked dirty to you in bed, but there was something about tonight. He was extra confident, and you didn’t hate it. His confidence was something that had drawn you to him in the first place. There was something about a confident man who wasn’t overly cocky. Jihoon was the type of confident person who knew when to still have humility, and in bed wasn’t one of those times. He could worship the ground you walked on and the bed you laid on all while having you whining his name. 

“Hoon…” His name comes out like a gasp on a breath as Jihoon teases your clit with the head of his cock once again, feeling you roll your hips towards him. Hissing under his breath, he lifts his eyes towards yours as a smirk pulls at one side of his lips. Holding on to your hip with one hand, the other still holding his cock, he coaxes you up and helps you ease down over him inch by inch until you are sitting flush over his hips. The warmth of your pussy enveloping Jihoon completely causes him to feel like he’s going to explode. 

“Feel so good. God, baby. So, warm and tight. Holding me so good.” Jihoon nods as you whine out a yeah in question. “Yeah, angel. You are perfect. When you’re ready, just let me know. You can ride me or I can move. Up to you, honey.” 

Leaning your head forward as the stretch becomes pleasure, you hold on to Jihoon tightly with your arms around his neck. A moan slips from between your lips when you roll your hips over his cock, feeling him almost deeper than you have before. The sensation is both overwhelming and satisfying, making you want to do it again and again. 

“Jihoon… Oh, my God.” You speak between breathy moans as you try to keep a pace, rocking your hips over Jihoon’s, lifting your hips, and using your knees to fuck yourself over his cock, but it’s too much. You quickly start to get tired. Between the drag of the water and the pleasure building slowly in your abdomen, you get frustrated and cling to Jihoon as he watches you intently. 

He had known this would be one of the best experiences of his life. But Jihoon also knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace you were going for too long. You were his pillow princess and from day one Jihoon had promised not to make you do anything in bed; he aimed to keep that promise even out of bed. 

Sliding his hands along your thighs with a low groan, Jihoon finally finds your hips and grips them tightly. “I know, baby. Shh, let me do the work, huh?” Shaking his head in amazement of you, he rests his head back against the porcelain and keeps you in place with his hands as he thrusts his hips up hard. The sound you make is worth the water that splashes over the side of the tub, as it causes Jihoon’s cock to twitch inside of you before he thrusts again deeper. 

“Fuck…” While he knew that the two of you were on the other side of the house, Jihoon bit at his lips to keep his voice down. You were heaven to be inside of and to watch. Not only were you clenching around him like a warm, soft vice, but you looked like you were straight out of a piece of art. Jihoon wanted to run his hands all over your body, from the line of your neck as you leaned your head back to the swell of your breasts as they moved with each one of his quickened thrusts, and finally down into the water to where his cock was being squeezed so well. 

“Please, please… Oh, Hoon.”

Jihoon was right on the precipice of his climax. Each one of your moaned words was followed by whine and it was almost sinful how much he wanted to capture it on a recording so he could listen to it over and over again. He could imagine himself locked away in his studios on one of his many long nights with his hand around his cock as he listened to your fucked-out voice, remembering how good it felt to be inside of you. Remembering what was waiting for him once he got home. 

You, at home waiting for him. That was the thought that pushed Jihoon over the edge. Groaning your name, Jihoon holds your hip so tightly he’s afraid he might leave a bruise, but in the moment he just needs something to ground him. With his other hand, he slips it between your legs and listens to your moans get louder and higher in pitch as he urges you to follow him and to cum on his cock. 

“God, yes, that’s my girl. Cum with me. All over my cock, baby.” Nodding, Jihoon watches your mouth fall open and he feels your walls tighten and quiver around him as your orgasm rips through you. You had been wet before, but between his cum and yours, Jihoon finds himself slipping his fingers alongside his cock to feel the cum as it seeps into the water. “Told you I’d fill you up, pretty girl.” 

It was always a tight fit for you to take Jihoon’s cock so feeling the extra pressure of his fingertips next to his softening cock has you whimpering. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, you lean in far enough to press your lips to Jihoon’s neck before complaining about the feeling and wiggling your hips hearing him chuckle under his breath. 

“Sensitive…” 

“I know you are baby. Can’t help myself sometimes. If we were in bed, I would have watched it run out of you.” 

Making a face, you scrunch up your nose and bury your face against Jihoon’s neck. “You’re embarrassing.” 

Wet fingers move over your head and down your back as Jihoon lets himself soften inside of you completely, neither of you in a rush to move too quickly. He laughs, feeling your cheek heating up against his skin and your muffled words. “Am I? You don’t like it? I love watching my cum dripping out of you. Means you’re mine...” 

Whining again, you nip gently at Jihoon’s neck, hearing him laugh before it quickly turns into a groan at the feeling. He knew what he was doing. There were many nights where one round would turn to two after, but you were just happy to be in his arms. “You are a control freak, Lee Jihoon.” 

You weren’t wrong. Jihoon smirks, lifting his brow as he sinks a bit further down in the water, knowing the two of you can’t stay in the tub for much longer. There was nothing clean about this water anymore and he needed to get you taken care of sooner rather than later. It was just difficult not to have you in his arms for as long as possible, and it was even harder not to keep you on his cock if he could. 

“So? You say that like it’s a bad thing. I think it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with me.” 

Jihoon can feel your lips pull up into a smile and it makes his lips do the same. You did love him and he loved you. That wasn’t going to change. In Jihoon’s mind, you were it. You were his one and only. He had been taught that great love comes around once in a lifetime and he was holding on to his. 

Feeling warmth moving along your skin, you hum softly as your lips turn up in a smile against your pillow. While your bed at home was comfortable, it did not compare to Jihoon’s bed. Pulling your knees up towards your stomach, you snuggle with the pillow for a moment longer before stretching your hand out to where Jihoon had been the night before, when the two of you had fallen asleep. A pout takes the place of your smile when all you feel is satin sheets that have been warmed by the early morning sun. 

“Hoon?” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper. Between just waking up and how much Jihoon had loved you the night before, you find your throat is dry and a bit tender. Clearing your throat, you sit up and glance around the room, only seeing specks of dust in the rays of sunlight that manage to peek through the blinds. 

Starting to say his name again, you stop when the sound of music catches your attention. It’s quiet and at a distance, making you realize that Jihoon is in his studio. Biting at your lips, you slip from the bed and pull on one of Jihoon’s button-ups along with a pair of shorts from the drawer dubbed as yours before you tiptoe out of the room and down the hall. 

You find the door cracked; trying to sneak in, you push on the door handle with one hand and the frame with the other. The song is one you don’t recognize. You can hear Jihoon singing quietly under his breath, no words fully formed and the melody still scattered and yet it is beautiful. 

Still tiptoeing and trying to stay quiet, you watch Jihoon working diligently on the project from a distance. He was always a hard worker, putting his all into anything he did—but this seemed different, this seemed even more important to him. 

Titling his head, Jihoon scratches at his scalp a bit annoyed as he reads over the music in front of him. This had to be perfect because it was—the sound of the floorboards creaking behind him makes Jihoon sit up straight before he spins his chair to find you wincing as you walk towards him like a burglar from a cartoon, one leg still in the air. While Jihoon wants to be upset that you are sneaking around and spying on him, he knows that isn’t what you are doing, and you look so cute that he can’t help but to laugh. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shaking his head, Jihoon turns and quickly minimizes what he’s working on before leaning to grab your hand and pulling you to him to sit on his lap in his chair. Nudging his nose against your shoulder, Jihoon watches your eyes move to his computer as you pout and look back at him apologetically. 

“I heard music and I wanted to see what you were doing without bothering you. Plus, you left me in bed alone. I was missing you.” 

Sighing softly, Jihoon kisses the back of your shoulder as he presses his hands to your stomach through his shirt. “I missed you too. You looked too peaceful to wake up; besides, I got up a long time ago. You needed more sleep than me.” 

Turning to the side in Jihoon’s lap, you shake your head to disagree with him. In your mind, you didn’t need anything if it didn’t include Jihoon, whereas in his, he would do anything to make sure you were happy and healthy. 

“No, but I do love your bed. It’s so nice.” Gesturing to his computer, you rub your lips together as you tap your fingers along his arm, being tempted to reach for his mouse to reopen the project he was working on. “What were you doing? The song seemed really pretty. I’ve never heard it before.” 

Jihoon knew you were going to ask, but he was hoping he could distract you enough or get you on to something else with your day before you’d remember. Rolling his eyes in faux annoyance, Jihoon leans his head back, reaching over to his mouse to close the project, completely leaving it hidden on his computer. He hears you gasp when you can’t see it anymore on the taskbar. 

“It’s... a surprise. I’m writing a song for you and it’s not finished. So keep your greedy little paws off my computer, you hear me?” 

The idea of Jihoon writing you a song makes your heart swell with emotions. Staring at him, you aren’t sure what to do or say at first so you nod and then shake your head, hearing Jihoon laugh as he copies you. “You did hear me or you didn’t, Y/N?” 

“I did! I heard you, Jihoon, but... you, what? Really? For me? When can I hear it? Can’t I see it now? Oh my god, baby... that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever told me.” 

You were gushing and while Jihoon loved hearing you spiraling for a good reason, he wasn’t going to give in and let you see or hear something that wasn’t perfect. Shaking his head, Jihoon laces his fingers with your left hand and leans to kiss your neck with a soft hum. “No, you can’t see it now. It is for you and I will give it to you, I promise.” 

Scoffing, you lean into Jihoon’s kiss, listening to his words. He was giving you half answers. Whining his name, you lean away from his body some to see him better as he laughs under his breath and sighs your name in return as his fingers slide to play with your ring finger of your left hand. “Y/N… I—I’ll give you the song on our wedding day. How ‘bout that?” 

The answer stuns you and makes your face bloom with heat. Glancing away from Jihoon, you try to keep the tears that threaten to collect on the rims of your eyes from spilling over as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Hm? Does that sound fair?” 

When you nod, Jihoon grins against your hand and sighs. “Good, because I love you so much and I wouldn’t give you anything unless it’s perfect.” 

Jihoon watches your bottom lip stick out slightly as you pout tears finally making their way to your cheeks when you blink a few times trying to regain your composure only to fail. “I love you. You’re already perfect; nothing has to be perfect. Why would you say that to me, Jihoon? Don’t tease me.” 

Smiling, Jihoon shakes his head and pushes on your pout with his thumb before turning your face towards him so he can wipe away your tears. “Who’s teasing anybody?” 

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[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

[synqiri]

WHO GOT YOU SMILING LIKE THAT?

or, who else is his smile directed at but you ?

PAIRING: sunday, dan heng x gn!reader

WARNINGS: none

WORDCOUNT: 1K || CONTENT: fluff, reader is from the express, sunday's wings, danheng's vidyadhara form

NOTES: THEMMM!!!!

“brother,” robin asks, “has something good happened recently?”

SUNDAY chuckles, shaking his head. “nothing in particular, dear sister. why do you ask?”

she knows it is a lie, yet she does not wish to press, for she has never seen her brother this happy in years. his gaze softer too, his smile more at ease. even now, his eyes dart about the golden hour occasionally, almost hopefully, searching for something — or someone. 

“no reason,” she replies instead. “you simply seem well. i'm glad.”

before he can say much else, robin watches as his attention is drawn away from her, to somewhere behind her back. swiftly, he adjusts his suit and tie (though she knows he despises having to do so in public), and straightens his already impeccable posture.

terribly curious, she turns to look, and finds that it is you.

you are of the astral express, and though she may not know much, she knows you are cherished.

“sunday! robin!” you greet them, a grin on your face, cheerful and bright. “i didn't expect to see you two. must be my lucky day!”

nearly imperceptibly, sunday's wings flutter, and robin can tell he is delighted. she wonders if he himself has noticed — that the moment he had laid his eyes on you, he simply melted.

her brother has always carried himself with a tense, elegant formality, his words and actions as dignified as the head of the oak family should be. but the sight before her eyes is a side of him she has never seen; soft eyes and a fond smile, barely there yet present all the same. 

you chatter, and he lets you, as if he were soaking in your every word, tension alleviating with your mere attention. 

“let's catch up another time, brother,” she tells him, smiling just a tad apologetically. still, it is obvious her presence is no longer needed. “i have another appointment i must attend to.”

he nods, bidding her a farewell, and you huff softly, slightly put out. 

“aw,” you say. “i was hoping we’d have longer to talk. you're almost harder to reach than sunday.”

she laughs. “i was just thinking the same. how about another day?”

excitedly, you agree, offering her your pinky to swear. she accepts easily. she is certain that even if the express has left, if everything happens as it should, it wouldn't be the last she’d see of you.

sunday would make sure of that.

just before she leaves, she catches how her brother draws your attention back onto him, with a childish sort of pettiness she thought he had rid of long ago. 

“i wasn't aware you were such a big fan of my sister's,” he says. “if you wish, i can provide you front row tickets to her next concert.”

you shake your head, giggling, but by then, she is too far away to hear your response. still, whatever you had said to sunday flusters him. his wings flutter once more, positively elated.

he smiles.

recently, DAN HENG has changed.

march has noticed it long ago, and she's sure caelus has too. not only that, she's positive it has something to do with you.

you’re the newest addition to the astral express crew, and she likes you lots. everyone does, really. you're wonderful and brilliant and bright, even if you don't see it yourself. she watches as you make your way into the archives, though she doesn't do the same. she peeks into the tiny window by the door instead.

there it is. she almost squeals. it's utterly adorable, that's what.

dan heng hates company when he's working, a fact march knows all too well. aeons know how many times she got herself kicked out. except, he doesn't seem to hate company all that much when it's you.

“it's me,” you announce as you enter, and he barely spares you a second glance, as if it was there you were always meant to be.

he shifts aside, letting you grab a chair and taking a seat next to him, even allowing you as close as shoulder to shoulder. he's in his true form today. his tail curls around the base of your feet — it doesn't touch you, but it's a damn near thing.

she wonders how exactly you managed such a feat. dan heng is reserved and guarded and whilst he considers the crew his family, she knows there is no one he fully trusts with all his secrets. she can't blame him, but it is the truth. 

yet within months, you have quickly become his closest confidante.

“what are you working on today?” you ask, flipping through the scattered books and documents on his desk. 

he glances over to you, and even from where she stands, march can tell his gaze is impossibly warm.

“penacony,” he says. “there is much i have to cover.”

you nod, though when your attention strays and you meet his eye, you wince. 

“aeons,” you murmur, brows drawn slightly. “did you even sleep last night?”

march watches with a dawning sense of awe when you bring your hands to cradle his face, and he doesn't flinch away. no, on the contrary, his eyes flutter shut, and he leans into the touch subtly. his tail has curled itself around your leg now, snaking all the way up to your waist.

“i… i may have lost track of time last night,” he admits softly.

you huff, squishing his cheeks. “you can't do that. you'll ruin your pretty face.”

for a brief moment, march contemplates snapping a picture of the scene. she decides against it. even she knows this is something much too private to be watching. still, she's a busybody through and through.

he doesn't retort, nor does he do any of the things he usually does.

instead, dan heng chuckles, soft and contented and everything good in the world. he's so utterly smitten it's almost sickening.

march slips away, her next destination caelus's room. that loser owes her a thousand credits.

[lcriedlastnight]

Hi can i pls request a lando x reader where he mentions in many interviews that he wants an army of kids and the camara always pans to other drivers teasing reader

ofc you can baby <33 thanks for helping me celebrate! here's that kiss i promised xoxo

requests are open!

852 words.

it wasn't unknown that lando wanted kids. it's not like he went out of his way to to talk about having children either, he just went on half an hour tangents anytime an interviewer brought up the topic is all. you didn't find out just how many until you decided to ask him about it one night, not long after lando had gotten slandered on twitter for being 'obsessed' with having a mini version of himself running around.

"so.. you know how you've said you want kids?" you start, voice a little hesitant knowing he was a bit peeved about the bullying he was getting online for that very thing. if looks could kill you swear you would be a dead girl.

"don't you start." he groans, eyes rolling so hard to the of his head you thought they may get stuck.

lando, who had just gotten ready for bed, slips in beside you and you immediately know he's not actually pissed off at you because he is pulling your arm to get you as close to him as he physically could.

"i don't mean it like that, i just wanted to ask you about it." lando watches as you strain your neck up to be able to see his reaction from your very comfortable position on his chest. it does bring the smallest of smiles to his lips.

with a joking sigh he asks "what do you want to know?".

"well, i guess the most important one is-"

"if i want them with you?" lando interrupts, sending your brows into your hairline. you smack him on the back of the head and he just laughs like it was actually funny. dickhead.

"no! how many you want. but now i don't want any with you if they're going to turn out like you." you cross your arms over your chest, trying to convince him you actually were in a huff. a strong hand running down your front seconds after ruins your plans for any further annoyance though.

lando hums in thought before he answers your question. his hand now drawing random shapes on your hip bone.

"you're going to hate me when i say this, but i only really wanted a few maybe two max? but being with you? i want minimum four."

your gasp makes him wince. you're shocked, there is no way he is actually being serious. you tell him as much but he shakes his head and assures you just how serious he is.

"honestly baby. i want a big family with you."

his words may or may not rile you and you guys maybe get started on that big family that night, but you don't kiss and tell..

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

lando wasn't to hold back on his thoughts or feelings and with his rants about wanting to start a family were proof of this, well you had thought so. the next time you're at the paddock is the next time he's asked about starting a family. you're watching from the side with max and oscar as he gets interviewed and you can see the say his whole face lights up at the question, as if racing was a chore he was getting forced to do every few weekends and not the second favourite part of his life.

lando takes a quick glance in your direction before he starts and it's like your conversation on the topic opened the floodgates in lando's mind as he reveals his every thought on having a baby or two or ten.

"me and my girlfriend were talking about this and it made me realise i want a full on norris army of children behind me. i want minimum four with my girl. ideally two of each but wouldn't even complain if all i had was girls because then that means that there would be so much more of my girl out there in the world, and little parts of me i guess too." lando's smile is splitting and the interviewer smiles back at him, loving seeing him being so open and honest about it.

"would you encourage your little ones to get involved in karting and racing?" she enquires. you can already picture taking your imaginary children along to watch lando in his races. it does make your heart skip a beat or two.

as the interview continues, unbeknown to you and the other two drivers who are making kissy faces at pretending to cradle a child in their arms just to tease you and how much lando was infatuated with the idea of kids with you, the camera pans in your direction to get a nice reaction shot to your boyfriend's words.

all they capture is your bright red face, from the teasing and lando blunt words, and the boys childish behaviour.

that night is then filled with lando teasing (and comforting) you as it was now your turn to get teased on twitter, millions of fans already making your reaction a meme. you knew you'd never live it down and a small part of you was excited to explain the video and reaction picture to those future kids.

[yzashaven]

pairing ☆ scaramouche x fem!reader

content warnings ☆ nsfw content ahead. unprotected sex. hate fuck. rough sex. slapping. spanking. degradation + praising. overstimulation. nipple sucking. creampie. hair pulling. marking. riding. mating press. prone bone. "whore, slut, baby"

note .ᐟ HEYYY so like... it's been a while, yes? 3 months since my last post, how is everyone? i made this yesterday randomly at 3am and didn't really feel like posting it on the new blog (that is still in progress) also I AM SO SORRY if this is in any way bad?? i'm so rusty... i haven't written in so long but gosh it felt nice to finish a work and i thought it would be a good idea to put it here just because i felt like it akbsuwhs the plot is kinda all over the place i have no idea—anyway, if i missed anything in the warnings, please let me know! i hope you guys will enjoy reading this ♡

word count ☆ 0.98k

the sight of you riding him was the last thing he expected to enjoy seeing. the way your face has pleasure written all over it, your breasts bouncing with each move your hips make, body trembling from the feeling, and most especially, the way you moaned so lewdly.

he loved it, yet hated you.

he hated your cocky and annoying attitude, always teasing and defying him no matter when or where you were. why do you always think you're better than him? you never will be. well... at least that's what he thinks.

putting you in your place was always the one thing he wanted to do. but as much as he wanted to do so out of anger, the hidden sexual tension between you was no joke. he couldn't avoid it.

he wants to slap you, punch you, hit you in some way. but at the same time he feels like pounding you, pushing your face down into the bed, shutting you up with his fingers in your mouth. no matter how much he thinks you're the absolute worst, he can't deny how attractive you are. and it just fuels his desires even more.

his eyes dart down to watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, smirking to himself, "such a filthy slut. you take me so well, don't you?" hand reaching behind to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back, exposing your neck to him. he doesn't hesitate to lean it and mark you as his.

moving down, he sees your hardened nipples from arousal. his lips wrap around the sensitive area and gently suck on one, tongue flicking on it every now and then. he pulls away and finally lets go of your hair. hands going over to grip your hips now before he spoke up, "getting tired already? gosh, you're weaker than i thought."

you shake your head, about to respond but he doesn't let you. two fingers suddenly filling your mouth, "don't even think of speaking," he whispers and lays you down on your back, "i'm gonna fuck you hard, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

a red hue spreads across your face. speechless, you nod silently. he smirks and playfully spanks your ass, "atta girl." in one thrust, he fills you up completely. grabbing your legs and bringing them up to your chest. his cock is way deeper inside you in this position and he knows that very well.

capturing your lips in a rough kiss, he began to thrust in and out of you, slow in pace but definitely powerful. gradually getting faster, wilder, with each passing second. your hands come up around your legs to hold them in place, spreading yourself for him.

finally pulling away from the kiss, you try to catch your breath but moans flow out of your lips one after another. to add to it all, he brings his thumb down to rub your clit. it was visible from your body language that you were close to an orgasm. so close.

"you gonna cum around my cock like a good whore, baby?" he chuckles. his other hand comes up to your face, playfully slapping you, "i've always wanted to do that since you're so damn annoying." narrowing his eyes, he glares down at you.

"as if you aren't as well!?" you exclaim back, but it fails—he pinches your clit, drawing out a lewd cry from you. "be quiet and i'll let you cum. come on." you look up at him and make eye contact. he isn't moving anymore, his cock just buried deep inside you. the moment is rather intimate, or so you thought.

"fuck you, scara–"

"you're doing just that and you're still complaining?"

you glare up at him, giving up and letting your head fall back onto the soft pillows, "just fuck me already, fucking hell." you unexpectedly say. he smiles, "gladly."

before you could even register anything else, he was already pounding into you. rough, hard, and fast. giving your clit a sufficient amount of attention as well. all of it was completely overwhelming and all you could do was scream out his name as you came around him. gripping the sheets so tight that your knuckles turned white, your whole body shaking.

"fuck–so good... you feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like that, baby." he groans before finishing inside you. keeping himself in place for a while as he calmed himself down before pulling out gently. he silently watches as your body continues to tremble. scaramouche sighs and gently stimulates your clit, "aww, shh... there there..." the gesture causes you to get overstimulated rather than soothed.

"i'm still hard, just so you know." his voice low as a whisper. "let me just..." flipping you over, he puts you on your hands and knees, entering you from behind and making your body weakly fall flat on the bed. he sighs and just gets on top of you, pushing himself back deep into your wetness.

his bare chest to your back, your body quivering beneath him as he began to thrust into you again. starting at a slow pace that gradually got faster, fucking you properly. leaning down, he whispers right into your ear, "such a perfect cunt you've got, huh?"

you're already so close. the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot every now and then. his body trapping you under him, leaving you with no choice but to take what he gave. drool was already seeping from out of the corner of your mouth from how long you've had your lips apart, occupied in moaning his name over and over again.

as much as he despised you, he could never even think of denying how much he adored the fucked out state you were in. all because of him.

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤclingy boyfriendsㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙2189﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff fluff fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings a few kisses and pecksㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ had sm fun writing this bc i love cuddles. happy reading ^^ please rb and give feedback, it helps a lot ^_^ iNDEX requested

HEESEUNG

“hee, i need to go,” you whine, trying to get out of his arms but his grip only gets tighter around you as he keeps holding you against him, laying on top of you. he has always been clingy, but he’s especially clingier today— been holding you for the past thirty minutes and refusing to let go. 

you like this— on contrary to your words. it’s nice when he’s being this cute and clingy. you feel him press a few tender kisses on the base of your neck, something that always makes your heartbeat faster.

“i see,” is all he says, propping his chin up on your chest, pretending to think as he looks up at you. you mouth a quiet ‘please’ and he chuckles, burying his face in your chest again. “no,” 

and you groan again while he continues to hold onto you stubbornly. he holds you even closer when you try to resist, a sigh falling off your lips as you seem to give up. “lunch is not going to make itself,”

“lunch can wait,” the words are muffled against your chest but you can hear him smiling. it’s only a few seconds until he looks up at you, stealing a quick peck before shooting you a grin. “let me hold you for a little longer, darling,”

JONGSEONG

he said it would be just a few kisses but it has been quite a while since you’ve been on jay’s lap, and his arms only seem to wrap tighter around you. you lift your head up from his shoulder, looking at him with a slight pout. “how long are you going to keep this up?”

“dunno, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips, tilting his head to the other side to go in for a few feathery kisses on your cheeks and lips before looking at you longingly. “can’t seem to get enough of your lips today,”

and the club room is not the most ideal place to kiss since a student— or worse, a teacher— could walk in anytime. usually he’s the responsible one, making sure you two don’t get caught during your sneaky kisses and meetups between classes. however today, his mind is far away from thinking about anyone else but you.

“your new chapstick—” he speaks between the kisses, fingers drawing soft circles on your back as he pulls you closer. “is it cherry?”

you nod, one hand on his chest while the other on the back of his neck. “yep, i got it yesterday,”

“forgive me for taking up a little more of your time,” he chuckles, leaning in and capturing your lips in another kiss. he kisses you for longer this time, a bit slower, savouring the taste of your chapstick and the feeling of your lips moving against his. he pulls away reluctantly and lowly chuckles under his breath. “gosh, i can never get enough of you.”

JAEYUN

“sorry for being too clingy, angel,” he whispers, nuzzling his face deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “you’re so warm, it’s nice,”

“you’re always like this,” you giggle, reaching out to brush his hair with your fingers. it’s always nice to have him spooning you as if no worries exist and it’s just you, him and your bed in this entire world.

you feel his lips trailing over the back of your neck down to your shoulders, planting soft and tender kisses in their wake. it doesn’t take you much to melt in his embrace— just a few kisses with his arms around you usually do the job.

“i hope you don’t mind it,” he says with a quiet laugh, turning you slightly towards him to look at your face. “you’re my sweetheart, the love of my life. i can barely spend an hour without you,”

and all you do is laugh at his words, a sound so melodious that it makes his smile grow wider. jake shifts a little, propping himself on his elbow before leaning in and smothering your face in kisses and whispering sweet nothings in between, his heart fluttering at the sound of your giggles. 

“watching you being clingy is my favourite thing in the world,” you manage to speak between his endless kisses and pecks, cupping his cheeks tenderly. 

the smile never leaves his lips, only growing wider as he presses his lips against your cheeks and gives you a few pecks before his lips are back onto yours. “you are my favourite thing in this world,”

SUNGHOON

“don’t you dare move,” you freeze at his words, surprise evident on your face. he doesn’t give you a chance to speak, pulling you closer with your back pressing up against his chest. “you’re not going anywhere,”

it’s new, almost rare for sunghoon to be this clingy. usually, he prefers you sitting next to him, arms linked or fingers intertwined, your head on his chest with his head on yours, kissing it every few seconds. but this— his arms basically engulfing you from behind and making it hard for you to focus on the movie with the way his chin rests on your shoulder, breath tickling against your neck— is usual, and you like it. 

“let me go get more popcorn,” you stifle your laugh, gazing at him from the corner of your eyes. you try your best to sound convincing, even though his arms only wrap tighter around you. “i’ll be back in a minute,”

“i said, no,” he tries to sound firm, although you chuckle at how cute he sounds and looks, his lips pressed together, brows furrowed. he catches you looking at him and narrows his eyes at you before shaking his head, kissing your forehead. “you’re not going anywhere until i say so, princess,”

you end up laughing, giving up on your request and relax in his arms, leaning back completely against his chest. “you’re so cute when you’re clingy,”

sunghoon only hums with his face against the crook of your neck. you can feel him leaving a few kisses there before he looks up, kissing the top of your head, whispering softly. “you feel too good in my arms for me to let you go,”

SUNOO

the silence and dim lights in your room almost lull you into sleep, the warm comforter only making the process easier before you hear sunoo whisper in the dead of the night, although not long after you’ve come to bed to sleep. “come closer,”

your stay quiet in your position for a few seconds before shifting closer to your boyfriend, arms slithering around his waist. “you okay?” 

and it’s not really rare for sunoo to ask you to sit or lay close to him. in fact, he would trade anything to cuddle with you and have you all nice and snug against him. although, the fact that he likes his own personal space while sleeping stands false for now, because he pulls you even closer, your body basically pressed up against him completely. 

he nods, burying his face in your hair while his hands trace up and down on your back, his soothing touch making you smile at the sensation. “i just want to hold you,”

your smile only grows wider at his words and you swear your can feel the thumping of your heart that paces as he starts leaving fluttering kisses on your cheeks. “you can hold me as much as you want,”

it only takes him a few seconds before he pulls you even closer, positioning you on top of him and enjoying the way your head rests on his chest. his hand continues to caress your back while the other fixes the comforter over you two. “this is better,”

JUNGWON

“baby,” you hear his voice as soon as he enters through the door, quickly shuffling out of his shoes and making his way to you before wrapping you in his arms. “gosh, i’ve missed you, my love,” 

it’s cute, especially the way he’s almost lifting you off your feet while hugging, having you on your tippy toes. a few seconds in and he’s swaying you left and right, mumbling something against your shoulder that you can’t quite catch. “you’re squeezing me, wonie,”

“can’t help it,” he gives a quick response, lifting his head up slightly to look at you. it’s quiet for a few moments, just him admiring you as if taking in your face and remembering every little detail about it. you smile simply at the lack of words, finding his expression utterly sweet before he continues. “i missed you so so much. so damn much, you have no idea.”

you giggle at his words, poking his nose gently with your index finger, his arms holding you by your waist. “i think i do. those voice messages everyday give me a slight idea,”

he can’t help but laugh sheepishly, looking away briefly. it’s true he spammed you with texts and voice notes, and they were about everything— the weather, what they had for breakfast, the poor joke some member made or the way a cloud looked like you— everything.

“i’m never going on tours again,” he whispers between the quick kisses he plants all over your face, your eyes squinting at the act, something that, according to him, makes you look even more adorable. “too much for my heart,”

NI-KI

riki positions himself on top of you, basically burying you under himself on the couch and engulfing you in his embrace. it’s warm and nice— you can barely breath, trying to wriggle your way out before he mumbles against your shoulders. “stop moving,”

“i can’t breathe, ‘ki,” you manage to muffle out, your arms encircling around his much larger frame. he knows you are going to slip out from under him if he moves, probably laying on top of him— which he loves just as much as this, but laying on top of you is way more fun.

“so spoiled,” he grunts from your neck, although not moving for another few seconds before he shifts slightly and switches to a position where you can breathe properly. “better?”

you huff when he calls you spoiled as if reminding him of the postion you two were in. riki had practically begged for cuddles while you were working on a project, saying he’ll help you with it later. although, you two are more likely to end up sleeping in each other’s arms than getting up to work on the project.

if laying on top of you was not enough, he nuzzles his face even further in your neck as if he isn’t already close enough. you squint your eyes at him, poking his cheeks with your finger. “you are spoiled,” 

“well push me off yourself if you have a problem,” he says with a scoff, raising an eyebrow up at your silence. he wonders if you’re contemplating in silence, but when your arms wrap around him a bit more tightly, making him chuckle as he leans down to press his cheeks against yours. “thought so,”

[vivwritescrappythings]

king of the joust

knight!könig x plussize!fem!reader

part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

you go to a tourney, a knight you’ve never seen before wants your favor

an: this could become a series—not sure, just wanted to write this. inspired by a drawing of könig by @whocaresabouttactical that i just could not get out of my head (your work is amazing btw).

tw: fem reader, plus size reader

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

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Tourney days were the worst of all.

It always devolved into madness–your mother devoted to getting your sister prepared enough to catch a knight’s eye. You primped and pinched and cinched all morning, stuffing her into a dress she could hardly breathe in and pulling the corset strings tight.

You were dressed similarly, your gown far less expensive and hair left loose around your face rather than the intricate braided style she wore. It was not worth it to spend the time on your attire. Your sister was older by a year and the prettier of the two of you, securing a marriage swiftly was becoming one of the most important things in her life.

You were welcomed with the other noble families beneath the tented area of the stands, your parents headed toward the back to greet your brothers and their wives as you milled near the front railing with your sister. She was staring dreamily at the arena.

The knights were already out, walking with their horses and talking with their squires.

“Do any catch your eye?” you asked, watching your sister’s gaze flicker over the armored men below. Some had their helmets off, casting charming smiles into the stands of onlookers. You could hear young ladies giggling around you.

“Maybe Ser Garrick,” she said after a few moments of contemplation. You followed her stare, seeing him speaking to another knight with his helm still on, the face of it shaped like a skull.

He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. If anything, you were surprised he was a knight. He looked as though he had never seen a day of battle, his skin smooth and clear, no lines of worry etched into his face to match those of his companions.

You hummed, nodding. “He certainly is pretty,” you murmured with a giggle. Your sister rolled her eyes, embarrassed as she shyly agreed.

You could see it, the two of them married with an estate and children of their own. Rumors of Ser Garrick promised that he was kind, if not a bit vain. But your sister was vain, too—it would be perfect.

You both had favors: your sister kept running her fingers over the crimson scarf she’d brought with her while you twisted your woven laurel of leaves and flowers and ribbon over your wrist. You knew someone would ask for your sister’s favor—she was so beautiful that men would pine for her even if she were common born.

It would not be a stretch to assume that you would be bringing your favor home with you. You were of marrying age, but destined to be a spinster. It was your nature to let your sister shine, often lingering along the edges of the room or in her shadow.

The horns signaling the tourney was about to start pulled you from your reverie as your sister yanked you into the seat next to hers. Right in the front.

While you hated tourney days, jousting sent a thrill through you like no other—you often were halfway out of your seat, peering over the railing as you watched the knights. The horses were huge and sleek, their muscles rippling beneath their coats as they charged. The splitting sound of lances on shields echoes through the arena filled you with adrenaline as though you competed amongst them.

The knights trotted just below the stands, calling up to girls between bouts and earning favors. Your sister practically fainted when Ser Garrick shouted up to her, his lance resting on the railing in front of you. You had to shove her forward.

“My sister was telling me that you look rather gallant this morning, Ser Garrick,” you said, smiling sweetly at her as you nudged her with your elbow. The mortification was clear in her expression before she tweaked it into a smile as she nodded primly.

Ser Garrick laughed, the sound clear and deep. “Well, I would be pleased to have your sister’s favor if she is offering it,” he said, gaze focused on her.

You bumped her again, finally snapping her out of her shock. She smiled demurely, producing the scarf she had tied into a circle. The fabric was wispy and light, the baby pink contrasting with his black and red lance as she looped it over the end and let it slide down to the pommel. “I wish you luck,” she said, batting her eyelashes prettily at the knight.

“I thank you, my lady,” he called back up to both of you, smiling at your sister and nodding to you before bringing the visor of his helmet down and going to take his place.

You fell back to your seat with your sister, her hand wrapped around your arm as she squealed. Her excitement was plain to read, the grin on her face and the sparkle in her gaze said more than enough as she pitched into you. Her laugh was absorbed in your shoulder as you chuckled.

You never doubted that he would gaze at her.

Ser Garrick jousted admirably, defeating his opponent in just a few bouts. You could not be bothered to know who it was, only that his armor was dented as he was cleared away with his horse in tow.

The rest of the morning blended into listening to your sister blather on about Ser Garrick and the crack of lances on shields and breastplates. It was easy to stop listening, making soft sounds of agreement and occasional nods of understanding as you twisted your favor around in your grip. You knew if you listened you would only feel jealous.

Your thoughts wandered, pondering the way the bodice of your dress cinched in your soft stomach, the sleeves of your gown loose until they gathered at your wrists to cover the gentle slope of your shoulders and the extra flesh on your upper arms. You rested your chin on your hand, trying to subtly pull back the softness of your jaw. There was no hiding that you did not look like your waif of an older sister.

You knew that. The difference between you two was easy to feel, to understand. The way eyes glazed and shifted over you as though you were not there, as though you did not deserve to be there. The whispers of your parents discussing arranging a marriage with one of your father’s friends haunted you. But lords and knights and even common boys looked right past you regardless of your noble blood.

“Sister.” The sharpness of her tone brought you out of your spiral of self-pity. She was staring at you, eyes wide.

“Yes?” you asked, blinking a few times as you sat up in your seat.

There was a lance resting on the railing.

“I think he means to get your attention.”

Your brow furrowed, the words took a few moments to make sense before you stood. You placed your hands on the polished wood, carefully peering over.

The knight below was one you had never seen before. He was huge, limbs thick with muscle beneath his dark armor. The warhorse beneath him was large to accommodate him, dwarfing the other horses and squires. He wore no helm, holding it on his thigh as his other hand steadied the lance. But you still did not see his face, a black cloth with two circles cut for the eyes covering his head.

Like an executioner.

“You wished to see me, Ser…” you trailed off, waiting for an introduction.

His blue eyes simply crinkled at the corners like he was smiling beneath the shroud, he nodded. Then his hand left his helm carefully balanced on his leg, retrieving something from near his stirrup.

In a flash it was tossed up to you, harmlessly glancing off your arm. Your sister practically dove to retrieve the object, showing you a stuffed bear with a perplexed look on her face. It was small, but crafted nicely. There were two little X stitches for the eyes, no mouth or other features stitched onto the soft fabric.

Your brow furrowed as you reached out for it, turning the bear in your hands with care. It was sweet.

The knight was watching you carefully, seemingly waiting for your reaction. You could feel your cheeks warming, a threat smile made the corner of your lip twitch. You had never received a gift from a man that was not a member of your family.

Your sister cleared her throat. You were taking too long.

“Well, I suppose a favor for a favor is in order,” you said, loud enough for the knight to hear you below.

His eyes crinkled at the corners again. Another nod.

You took your favor of weaved flowers and grasses and ribbons scraps, pressing a kiss to the leaves before looping it over the edge of his lance and watching it fall toward him. The colors of the foliage matched the forest green spiral painted on the wood.

“I wish you luck,” you said, clutching the bear in one hand as you leaned over the railing.

He was looking at the favor, running his gloved fingers touching the ribbons and caressing the flower petals. Then his attention was returned to you, he tapped the lance against the railing one, two, three times.

It felt like a thanks.

You watched him settle his helmet over his head before returning to your seat. The shocked expression on your face was mirrored by your sister, the two of you staring at the small stuffed bear in your hands.

A gift from a knight was unheard of at a tourney. Maybe a gift would suit a marriage proposal, or an attempt at courting. But not a simple tourney day.

And not from a knight you had never even seen before.

The smash of a lance against a shield made you look up, watching the knight’s opponent go crashing off his horse. And it continued. Every competitor that faced him ended up bested, sprawling across the dirt.

One pulled his sword, the mystery knight sliding off his horse to meet the challenge. He was taller than you anticipated, standing a full head over his opponent as he drew the sword from his hip. It was hardly a contest, the smaller man made to yield after being quickly disarmed and a blade at his throat.

It was only at the end of the day you learned his name. Ser Kilgore—it was announced proudly across the arena in light of his victory. Whispers calling him “King of the Joust” carried as you found your parents and prepared to leave.

You kept looking over shoulders and heads in the crowd, standing on your tiptoes to try to get a glimpse of Ser Kilgore. The fluttering at the pit of your stomach already told you all you needed to know—you wanted to see him again.

It was only in the carriage back to your estate that you noticed the stitching on the leg of the bear, black and a bit clumsy.

KÖNIG.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SOFT LAUNCH

A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual. 

Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple. 

Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends. 

There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors. 

It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together. 

There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details. 

It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him. 

So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home. 

This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside. 

You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.

“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.

“Well, should I?”

“Told you, I love you both ways.”

“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him. 

“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”

He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same. 

“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly. 

“Just five more minutes!”

“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”

“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”

“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.

A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days. 

Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his. 

When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed. 

But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it. 

Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on. 

When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame. 

Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story. 

The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his. 

“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen. 

“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug. 

Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with. 

“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him. 

“Yes baby?”

“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”

He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.

“I have, yeah.”

“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”

Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact. 

His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”

“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.

“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”

At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid. 

“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips. 

“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”

“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss. 

Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds. 

“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.

“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it. 

Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you. 

When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you. 

“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.

“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”

“Will we also be doing that?”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!