#anyway i love sixs goofy smile in this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wheeboo · 3 months ago

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"bluetooth hug!" | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which being long distance with your boyfriend comes with its perks. PAIRING. kim mingyu x fem!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, suggestive, established relationship WARNINGS. mingyu basically using all the terms of endearment in the world, mingyu being absolutely smitten and so so in love with you it's ridiculous, they talk abt wanting to kiss each other A LOT save them from this distance, so yes kissing lots of kissing that i had wayy too much fun writing, lots of teasing from mingyu, brief shirtless mingyu moment, suggestive undertones, suggestive at the end, implied sexual content WORD COUNT. 8k

notes: personally after a kinda bad experience with long distance, i don't think i'd be able to do it LMAO. anyway! i had this idea for a while lmao n just couldnt stop thinking abt mingyu yelling out "bluetooth hug!" to the camera directors in TTT :((

“Wait, baby, baby, look at this!”

When you look back at the phone, Mingyu is proudly showing off his new collection of shot glasses, each one lined up on a shelf in his kitchen. He eyes each one before grabbing one up to the camera with a boyish grin.

“Ta-da!” he exclaims, gesturing like a game show host showing off a prize. “I told you I’d start collecting these when I travel, and look! Aren’t they cool? This one... I think... This one is from Jeju Island. This other one is from Paris…”

Your boyfriend has always been quite the adventurous kind. It’s the first thing you noticed when you tapped on his profile on Tinder and you were greeted by a plethora of photos of Mingyu in all sorts of places𑁋hiking in the mountains, posing in front of famous landmarks, and even one where he was holding a street food skewer with a bright, goofy grin. His bio had read, “Always looking for my next adventure! Maybe you can join me someday? 😙”

At the time, you had laughed at how cliché it sounded, but there was something about his energy, the way his smile lit up every photo, that made you swipe right.

The only catch was that he lived in an entirely different country.

Fast forward six months later, and here you are, completely and utterly smitten by the same man who had once been a stranger behind a screen. Even though your relationship is entirely virtual, it has blossomed in ways you didn’t think possible. Unfortunately, you’ve been occupied with studying for university and schedules filled to the brim, and Mingyu was quite busy checking things off his own bucket list, so there were hardly any opportunities for the two of you to finally meet.

Still, you loved hearing his stories and seeing the world through his eyes, even if it was through a screen.

Mingyu carefully places it back on the shelf before showing off another one to the camera. You can’t help the smile spreading across your face as you watch him enthusiastically present each shot glass. His cute little fangs show along with his grin, and it’s moments like this that make the distance between you feel just a little smaller.

“One day, I’ll fill this shelf up.” Then he turns his attention back to the phone, watching you diligently typing away some notes on your laptop. “Baby?”

“Hm?” You shoot a glance to the screen.

Mingyu juts out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, resting his chin on his hand.

“You’re not paying attention to me,” he whines helplessly, dragging out the words like a kid vying for attention.

Letting out a giggle, you scoot your laptop away from your phone, the screen dimming from off your face. You shift your position so that you're properly facing the screen now, giving him your full attention.

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Yes, my precious, annoyingly clingy boyfriend?”

Mingyu’s only pout deepens, and he crosses his arms over his chest as if to make his disappointment even more prominent. “You’ve been so busy with work lately... I miss you.”

“How could you miss me when we haven’t even met yet, Gyu?” You jest teasingly.

His features soften at your words, uncrossing his arms and leaning in closer to the screen, and it’s almost like the huge distance between the two of you lessens slightly.

“I don’t need to meet you to miss you,” Mingyu explains sheepishly. “I just... All I have to do is think about you and it’s like you’re here, but not really here, you know?” He rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink that you can see even through the screen. “Gosh, the things I would do to just have you in my arms right now…”

A dreamy look lights up your face. You swear you could almost feel his presence right by you just from his words alone, but they aren’t enough to ease the longing ache in your chest, aren’t enough to fill the gap that stretches between the two of you. You let out a soft sigh, your heart warming at the thought of him.

“I think about it a lot, too,” You murmur gingerly, glancing down for a moment before meeting his gaze again through the screen. “About finally getting to be close with you.”

Even through the screen, you see the way his face melts, an expression nothing short of longing and expectation. His fingers drum against the counter, and you can tell he’s thinking of what to say next. The troublesome expression he wears tells you that it’s probably not something good.

“Tell me,” he says, resting his chin on his palm again. “What would we be doing if I was there right now?”

A thoughtful look crosses your features, but the answer is already so clear in your mind you could almost feel it.

“Cuddling?” You quirk a playful brow up at that. “Cuddling while listening to you talk... That would be nice. But then at some point, I’d get tired of hearing you talk, and just𑁋”

“Just what?”

“Hmmm,” You start, an impish flicker of your lips. “I’d shut you up with a kiss.”

Mingyu sputters in surprise at that, his brain and thoughts running haywire. “Oh? Oh?” He leans closer to the screen, a mischievous glint in his eyes now. “That’s dangerous talk, baby.”

You tilt your head amusedly. “Is it now?”

“You can’t just say things like that.” He pouts again. “Knowing damn well I can’t do anything about it. That’s just cruel. A crime, even.”

“Come on, I’m just speaking facts,” You retort back. “Now, tell me. If you could do something about it, what would you do?”

Mingyu lets out a sigh. “Don’t do this to me, babe.”

“I’m just curious,” You hum innocently, resting your chin on your palm now, mirroring his posture. “Would you kiss me silly?”

Mingyu’s gaze flickers back to you, and there’s something undeniably fond in the way he looks at you.

“You already know I would,” he grumbles. “I’d pull you in my lap and kiss you soooo hard that you wouldn’t be able to crawl away from me.”

You hum again, pretending to consider, despite the heat crawling up your neck. “Sounds nice.”

“Nice?” Mingyu scoffs at your indifference. “Just nice?”

You giggle. “Okay, okay𑁋really nice. Amazing. Wonderful. Fantastic. Perfect, even.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s more like it.” Then, he leans in just a bit closer to the screen, voice dropping slightly. “You’d be the one begging for me to stop talking then.”

Your stomach flutters, but you roll your eyes. “Okay, well, now you’re just being cocky.”

“Am I wrong, though?” He smirks, and you hate how good he looks doing it. “The moment I see you, I won’t be able to stop kissing you for a long, long time.”

For a moment, the teasing pauses, and all you can hear is the gentle hum of your heartbeat. You look into his eyes𑁋those same eyes that always made you feel both safe and that you could conquer the world all at once. You crave the feeling of his arms around you, his lips teasing you in real life, not just through words.

As you’re about to speak, though, a notification pops up on your computer.

When you read it silently, you let out a defeated sigh.

Mingyu notices your worry right away, like he always does. “Deadline notif?”

“Yeah,” You mutter, pulling away from the phone screen to force your laptop awake again. “I should wrap up this assignment, and you should go to sleep, Mr. Big Talk. You keep staying up for me.”

Mingyu groans dramatically, letting out a pettish whine. “The universe is always conspiring against me. I still wanna keep talking to you.”

You laugh softly. “I think you’ll survive, you big goof. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

You watch as Mingyu picks up his phone, trailing over to where you could catch glimpses of his living room. He plops down on the couch with that same, irresistible sulkiness from earlier before a sudden gleam of mischief lights up his features.

“One more thing,” he says, sitting up excitedly, propping the phone down on the table before opening up his arms towards the camera. “Bluetooth hug!”

You blink confusedly. “Bluetooth what now?”

“Bluetooth hug,” he repeats, and you can tell how serious he is about it. “Since I can’t hug you in person, we do this instead.”

Your heart stutters at the sheer ridiculousness and sincerity of it all. “Gyu, you’re so𑁋”

“Shhh,” he hushes, wiggling his fingers like he’s beckoning you forward. “Just do it, baby. Please?”

With a chuckle, you shake your head, but you can’t deny him, not when he’s looking at you like that. Raising your arms, you mimic his motion, pretending to wrap them around his broad frame through the screen.

“Bluetooth hug,” You quip, and you can almost feel his body pressed up against yours at the thought. “There. Happy?”

Mingyu flops back onto the couch, a dazed look to his face. “Mmh, best hug ever. It’ll be our thing now before we end the call.” Then he pans the camera down to his chin, and gosh, he looks extra kissable right now. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you go now, okay?”

You give him a faint smile. “Okay.”

Some moments of silence pass, like neither of you want to break the spell that’s bound to you both. It happens basically every time𑁋where neither of you want to end the call, until one of you finally gets the guts to do it first, only to instantly miss the other right after.

Mingyu stares at you for a few more seconds, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of your face before parting ways, and you do the same𑁋hoping to hold on to this moment a little longer.

“Okay,” he murmurs finally, his voice soft but resigned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You whisper back, trying to fight the tug at your heart. “I’ll miss you.”

He grins at you one last time, his boyish charm lighting up his face, and his gaze is soothing. “Miss you more, baby. Sleep well.”

And with that, the screen turns to black. Even though he’s basically an entire ocean away from you, you still feel his warmth lingering around you.

“Wait, I think you passed it! Go back a little, baby.”

You furrow a brow as you push back the shopping cart, nearly saving your phone as it almost falls off from where it’s perched idly on the child’s seat. You show off the endless rows of foods and packaged goods towards the camera, giving a better angle for Mingyu to see.

“Like... here?” You tilt the camera slightly, showcasing the aisle packed with different types of pasta.

“Yes, that’s the one!” Mingyu’s excited voice blasts through your headphones. “Get the one with the red logo, do you see it? It’s the one I always use for my spaghetti.”

Mingyu had brought up your bi-weekly tradition of cooking together as a little date night. Since the two of you obviously aren’t able to cook in the same kitchen, this was the next best thing𑁋letting him guide you through the store to pick up ingredients and calling over FaceTime while making the same recipe. Although, this time, it’s Mingyu’s own special recipe.

You pluck the spaghetti noodle pack from the shelf and place it into your shopping cart. “Okay, got it.”

“Perfect,” he says, completely satisfied. “Now, next is Parmesan cheese... Oh, baby, get some garlic too. Fresh, not the pre-minced kind.”

You roll your eyes at his determination, yet a smile tugs endearingly at your lips. “Affirmative, oh-great chef.”

Mingyu wiggles his brows at that. “Say that again.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a laugh as you push your cart down the aisle, trailing towards the produce section of the store. “Nope. You get it once, and that’s it.”

He lets out a groan. “Ugh, you’re such a bully. Just say you hate me and want to break up with me already.”

“I lovingly hate you,” You tease, reaching for a bulb of garlic and holding it up to the camera. “This work for you?”

He narrows his eyes, inspecting it through the screen, his head tilted like he’s some sort of critically acclaimed food critic. “Hmm... yes, that one looks good. You pass.”

You chuckle, dropping it in your cart. “Lucky ol’ me.”

After you finish shopping for all the ingredients, you find yourself lining up at the register for check-out. You compare the ingredients to the list Mingyu had sent you. Spaghetti noodles? Check. Garlic? Check. Basil? Check. Parmesan cheese? Check. Tomatoes? Check...

“Okay,” Mingyu starts. “I’ve sent the money for the groceries to your card.”

Your eyes widen at that. “I𑁋Gyu…” Then you roll your eyes, knowing you can’t argue back with him. “You know, my frontal lobe may be averagely developed, but I’m a grown adult, with money of my own.”

“Yeah, well, I’m also a grown adult who wants to spoil his favourite girl,” Mingyu retorts back playfully. “Let me treat you once in a while, okay?”

You card a hand through your hair. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Mingyu simply grins at that. “I really am.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” You remark, pushing your cart up to the register. “I’ll call you when I’m home.”

“Drive safe, okay?” he says, suddenly softer. “Text me when you get there.”

Your heart does that annoying little flutter it always does when he’s sweet with you like this, swallowing down the warmth creeping up your neck, your fingertip lingering on the end call button. “I will.”

By the time you get home and call him back, Mingyu is already in his kitchen, phone propped up against the counter, sleeves rolled up to his elbow like he’s about to film his own cooking show. The sight of his exposed arms makes your stomach do a flip.

“Welcome, welcome,” he beckons with poise. “Tonight, I, Chef Mingyu, will be guiding the love of my life in whipping up the best spaghetti of her life.”

You snort, setting your phone against the kitchen backsplash. “Pretty bold claim, mister.”

His infectious grin only shines with confidence. “Just wait and see, princess.”

The two of you start cooking together, Mingyu guiding you through each step like a seasoned pro𑁋boiling the pasta, sautéing the garlic, and getting the sauce to the perfect consistency. All while he’s playfully critiquing your chopping and cooking skills (“Baby, what is that? Are you making garlic chunks instead of minced garlic?”), and you teasingly mock his over-the-top chef persona (“Should I start calling you ‘Gordon Kim’ now?”).

The comforting aroma of tomatoes and garlic fill your kitchen as the sauce simmers, bubbling gently under the heat. You find yourself standing at the stove, slowly running a wooden spoon through the makeshift sauce.

“Make sure you’re stirring it evenly,” he chimes in randomly, watching you intently.

“I am stirring it evenly.”

Mingyu squints, bringing the phone up to his face as if that’ll definitely help him see better. “Mmm… I don’t know, precious. Let me see the consistency.”

Rolling your eyes, you lift the wooden spoon, letting the sauce drip back into the pan. “Chef Kim, does this meet your expectations?”

He taps his chin theatrically. “You are barely passing, but I’ll allow it.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp. “I am literally following your recipe, Gyu.”

“I know, and I’m an amazing teacher,” he says smugly. “Okay, let's check on the pasta. Should be al dente now.”

You grab a fork and scoop up a strand, blowing on it before taking a bite. “I think it’s good?”

Mingyu hums, watching you closely. “Are you sure? Not too soft? Not too hard? Do the official chef bite.”

You raise a brow. “Please enlighten me on what the official chef bite is.”

He straightens up his posture confidently, dramatically miming the act of chewing like some Michelin-star judge. “You gotta, like, taste it with full concentration, eyes closed, and nod like you’re making the most critical decision of your life.”

You roll your eyes but comply anyway, exaggerating the nod just for him, claiming in your best food critic voice, “Ah, yes. Exquisitely divine. A fine noodle with a delicate texture.”

Mingyu beams at that, and walks over to give his pasta noodles a quick taste test of his own. He moves with a sense of elegance in his step, albeit slightly chaotic. He’s always been like this, always throwing himself fully into whatever he loves, especially cooking. And right now, he’s throwing himself into making sure you get this recipe just right.

As the two of you finish draining the pasta, you begin to toss it into the sauce, ensuring that it’s properly mixed. Mingyu watches you carefully, your lips pursed in concentration.

“Make sure every strand is coated and𑁋oh!” He leans in closer to the screen, watching you mix. “Don’t forget to leave a little bit of pasta water.”

You pause mid-stir, eyes narrowing at him through the screen. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I drained all of it?”

Mingyu’s mouth drops down to the floor. “Baby, no! The starch in the pasta water helps the sauce stick better.”

You huff defeatedly. “Guess my spaghetti is less Mingyu-fied now.”

“It’s okay, you’re still a beginner,” he assures. “My love and patience are boundless.”

“Wow, you’re so generous.”

You scoop the pasta into a plate, sprinkling a generous amount of Parmesan cheese on top of it, tucking in some loose noodle strands with a fork to make it cute for your little dinner date. Mingyu does the same, positioning his plate just right so you can see it on screen.

You set your phone up against the tiny succulent on the table, grabbing your fork in hand.

“Moment of truth. First bite together?” Mingyu suggests excitedly.

You nod, twirling some spaghetti onto your fork and holding it up. “On three?”

“One, two…”

“Three.”

An explosion of flavours coat your tastebuds, your eyes widening in surprise. You chew through it leisurely, savouring it with a pleasant hum, before diving in for another bite. Mingyu’s attention is solely focused on you as he takes a bite of his own, his face lighting up with triumph as he soaks up the way you’re enjoying it.

“Damn,” You wipe some sauce off the corner of your lip. “This is really good.”

“Yeah?” His eyes crinkle with pure happiness. “Knew you’d love it, sweetheart.”

The two of you continue to eat together, and it’s almost as if he’s sitting right across from you at the table. You catch him up on what the week has showered down on you, rambling to him about something in regards to one of your professor’s strict grading style, and he fills you in with a humourous story that happened to him with his coworker Soonyoung at work two days ago.

Even though you’re in different places, it’s moments like these that make the distance feel smaller, that make time feel infinite𑁋knowing one day, you’ll be with him in person.

And as you finish your last bite, you can’t help but think𑁋if love had a taste, it would be this.

“I’m stuffed,” You mutter after washing your plate in the sink, plopping back down in the chair. “And need a shower.”

Mingyu lifts a brow, smirking devilishly. “Take me with you.”

You shake your head, sending him a suspicious look. “In your dreams, pervert.”

“Can’t help it, love. You’re absolutely ravishing, even in dream-form.”

A lump forms in your throat at your boyfriend’s downright shamelessness, heat threatening to spread its way and infect all parts of your body. Mingyu basks in your reaction with a prideful grin, biting at his bottom lip to suppress a giggle.

Then, as if he had read your mind, he outstretches his arms towards the camera.

“Bluetooth hug?” he asks softly, wiggling his fingers in invitation, as if he’s attempting to reach out to you through the screen. He always knows how to get under your skin so easily.

You give him a roll of your eyes, before extending your own arms towards him as well, the two of you curling your arms, basically hugging the air. But even in the empty space, knowing that he’s right on the other side is enough to make it almost feel like the real thing. Almost.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, squeezing himself tightly. “That’s me, right there with you.”

Your heart stutters, warmth blooming in your chest. “I feel it.”

A pleased look paints his face, but then his voice turns teasing again. “Wish I could do more than just a hug, you know…”

Your fingers twitch against the screen. “Oh?”

“Oh.” His grin turns wolfish. “You’d like that, huh?”

You only sneer, but there’s no real bite to it. “Goodnight, you dirty-minded freak.”

Mingyu shoots you a kiss through the screen. “Goodnight, pretty girl. Dream of me.”

And as you hang up, face warm and heart full, you know sleep won’t come easy𑁋because every little word, every little tease, lingers, like the taste of his love on your tongue.

“I talk about you, you know.”

Your attention is momentarily taken away from the book in your hands, and you peer towards Mingyu on your phone screen, who appears to be completely submerged within the comfort of his bed. The sun has nearly risen on his end𑁋as he is stubborn and wants to fall asleep at exactly the same time as you𑁋while the sky is plagued with darkness on yours. He looks adorable, as he always does, and your chest can't help but tighten at the sight.

“What?”

Mingyu emerges slightly out of the sheets, revealing more of his pretty bare face. “To my friends, my family. I talk about you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at that.

“You do?” You murmur, setting your book aside and shifting under your blanket as well.

Mingyu only nods, resting his cheek against his pillow. “Of course. All the time. They probably think I’m obsessed with you.” He gives a sheepish grin. “Which, I mean... they wouldn’t be wrong.”

A quiet laugh escapes your lips, but it doesn’t quite mask the way his words turn your insides into mush. “What... What do you tell them?”

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to think hard. “I tell them about how amazing you are. How we met on Tinder and how it grew from there. How you make me laugh so effortlessly. How you somehow always know exactly what to say. How you’re unbelievably pretty and cute and sexy when you’re focused on something𑁋like, seriously, it’s unfair, babe.”

His words swirl around you like a thick fog, settling over your body and creeping in within the crevices of your heart. A smile crawls its way across your features, half-buried in the pillow, but for some reason, it simmers just slightly.

Because you talk about Mingyu too𑁋to your friends, your family, hell even strangers you’ve known for a day. He probably doesn’t realise himself how much you speak so fondly of him day-to-day. Yet, the thing is, there are people who have told you that long distance relationships hardly ever work. Or that meeting Mingyu through a dating app meant that your connection with him is bound to fizzle out after some time, that it wasn’t real love. Those words stick to you like an annoying flea sometimes.

But if those people could see you right now𑁋see the way your heart leaps out of your chest when Mingyu smiles through the screen, the way his voice alone can make the world feel a little more bearable, the way he talks about you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky𑁋maybe they’d understand.

However, there’s always that tiny part of you that worries.

Because what if they’re right? If love isn’t this, then what is?

“...and I tell them I’d do anything to finally just… be with you, you know?” Mingyu continues mindlessly, before stopping, as if sensing the sudden shift that you weren’t entirely listening. “Baby?”

You blink, shaking off the thoughts. “Huh?”

Mingyu’s brows knit together slightly. “You okay? You kinda went all quiet.”

You hesitate for a moment, caught between shoving your thoughts away and admitting the quiet fears that gnaw at your skin during the wee hours of the night. But Mingyu knows you too well. He always does.

“Yeah,” You respond quietly, but it’s more than obvious how unconvincing your tone is. Even a three-year-old could probably sense it.

Mingyu doesn’t press, at least not right away. He watches you carefully, waiting, giving you the stage to decide how much you want to say. That’s one of the things you love most about him𑁋his patience when it comes to you being vulnerable with him, his effort in wanting to communicate with you, his willingness to listen when you’re ready.

So you exhale, pressing your lips together before whispering, “Do... you think this will last?”

Mingyu adjusts his position to get a better look at you. “What do you mean?”

You swallow nervously. “I mean us. Long distance, life pulling us in different directions one day. People say it’s not sustainable. That... maybe this isn’t real love.”

Mingyu’s eyes darken at that, his jaw tightening as if his body is physically rejecting the idea. “Who the hell says that?”

You let out a weak, humourless laugh, giving a shrug. “People who think love only works if it’s easy, I guess.”

Mingyu’s expression just softens, his gaze carefully boring into you as if he’s searching for every ounce of doubt in your words. He leans closer to the screen, making the distance feel smaller, if only for a moment, just as he always does.

“Listen to me, angel,” he prompts. “Love isn’t easy. It never is. It’s work. It’s effort. It’s choosing someone over and over again, even when it’s hard. If things ever get hard between us, then we fight for it. Because this? Us? It’s real, precious, no matter what anyone else thinks. I’d literally walk the entire earth just to tell you that we’re okay.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t respond. Because this, you realise, is what love is, right? It’s not just the soft, dreamy moments of cooking together through a screen or whispering sleepy goodnights before ending the call. It’s this𑁋being honest about your fears and knowing that no matter what, the person on the other side isn’t going anywhere.

That this𑁋he𑁋is worth every mile. And no matter what anyone says, this love? It’s real. You know it is.

Mingyu’s voice drops, more gentler now. “Do you believe me, love?”

You could only let out a soft laugh, letting the warmth bloom throughout your face at his words. “You’re too confident for your own good sometimes, you know that?”

“I’m confident because I know what I want,” he replies matter-of-factly. “And what I want is you. I love you. I could scream that to my next-door neighbours right now if I wanted to. I’m in this for the long run, so... I guess you’re stuck with me now.”

You scoff a little. “I guess.” Before your expression merely melts, your worries lifting off your chest. “Thank you, though. I... I really needed that. I love you too.”

His grin turns radiant, like the sun peeking out at sunrise, so full of adoration that it makes your heart stutter. “Yeah?”

You laugh softly. “Yeah.”

Mingyu clutches at his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Say it again, please. I need it in writing. Maybe a voice memo for proof so I could replay it for hours.”

Though you’re notorious for leaving him on the edge sometimes, this time, you can’t help but cave in.

“I love you too, Kim Mingyu.”

You swear you see the temptation in his face that he could practically leap off the bed and bounce off the walls in his room from giddiness, just like an overexcited puppy. His mouth stretches into a cheesy, toothy grin, and he lets out some sort of muffled squeal𑁋half a cheer, half a laugh, all purely Mingyu.

“God, baby, I think you killed me again,” he tells you, cheeks pained from all the ridiculous smiling he’s been doing. “I wish I could kiss you right now. Like, really kiss you. Wouldn’t even hesitate.”

You breath hitches at the thought, but you attempt to play it cool. “And what if you come here and discover I’m the most disastrous kisser imaginable?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen in comical horror. “Impossible. There’s no way I’d believe that. You’d have to try really hard to be a bad kisser, babe.”

You roll your eyes, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free. “I’m serious. What if I’m an awful kisser and ruin everything?”

“Then I’d just kiss you again,” Mingyu responds, completely unbothered, as if that solves everything. “And again. And again. Until I figure out how to teach you properly. I’d take a hundred bad kisses if it means I get to kiss you a hundred times.”

“Wow,” is all you can utter out. “You’re really down bad for me, aren’t you?”

Mingyu’s grin widens even more, if that’s even possible at this point. “Down bad? No, baby, I’m crazy for you. To the point I think I’ll suffer from a heart attack one day. There’s a difference.”

You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head fondly at how absolutely unapologetic he is in his affection. It’s one of the many silly quirks you love about him𑁋how he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to show it, even from cities away.

When you shift in your position within your covers, a yawn escapes from you as the exhaustion finally begins to catch up with how late it is. You don’t really know how long the two of you have been calling, but you don’t bother to check for yourself.

He’s your little infinity.

“Tired?”

“Mmh, yeah. A little. Been a long day,” You respond with a low mutter, stretching your legs out under the sheets.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, before reaching out to grab the pillow right next to him, wrapping an arm around it and squeezing it tightly.

“Bluetooth hug!” he exclaims eagerly, voice muffled into the pillow.

The corners of your mouth lift as you grab your own pillow, squeezing it with the most affection your body could muster. It’s the closest thing you have to him.

“Bluetooth hug,” You repeat back with a sleepy smile.

“Fall asleep with me?” Mingyu proposes with a sly look.

“Unless you want your phone to explode later on,” You remark playfully. “Sure.”

The two of you are swift to curl yourselves comfortably under the sheets, the only sounds being the occasional shift of Mingyu in his bed and your quiet breathing. You feel Mingyu’s eyes still on you even as you’re struggling to stay awake, a simple, comfortable silence taking over in the way you both simply exist in this bubble of virtual connection together.

“Gyu?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you. Goodnight.”

Maybe love isn’t easy. But with him, it feels like the easiest thing in the world.

“Goodnight, baby, I love you too.”

You don’t really need to say anything more than that; the simple truth of his presence, even through a screen, is enough. The love, the connection, the trust you share together𑁋it’s all there. It’s real.

Eventually, the call fades into silence, the sounds of your quiet, rhythmic breathing and the steady fall and rise of your chest being the only things Mingyu can see and hear. He stays like that for a few minutes𑁋just simply taking you in within the darkness of your bedroom he hopes to share with you one day, admiring you from afar, knowing you’re just a screen away yet somehow right there beside him.

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he lets out a breath he’s been holding within his chest.

“One more month,” he whispers to himself as he closes his eyes, the gentle sound of your breathing lulling him into a peaceful state. “One more month, and I'll finally get to hold you.”

One more month, and everything will be right.

Your overthinking may as well make your brain combust.

Mingyu hasn’t called you or has been answering his calls for the past ten hours, and it’s making you worried sick.

Your mind runs through all sorts of scenarios, ranging from the logical to the most absurd. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he’s just busy. But ten hours? Mingyu always, always makes time to send at least a quick text if he’s not available, always makes time to call you at least twice a day, and would definitely let you know if he can’t call at all. What in the world happened?

This was definitely not how you imagined you’d start your March break with, with your boyfriend basically going AWOL-radio silent on you for almost half a day. You try not to let your thoughts spiral too much, but your chest tightens nonetheless. Is he okay? Did something happen? What if he got into an accident? What if he lost his phone? What if𑁋God forbid𑁋he’s ghosting you?

No, that last one is absolutely out of the question. This is Kim Mingyu we’re talking about. He would rather cut off his own limbs than ignore you for this long without a good reason.

You chew at the inside of your cheek as you stare at your phone, debating if you should call again or to send another text, or if you’re going overboard from being worried over literally nothing. You’ve already spammed him enough𑁋eight texts, four missed calls, and a voice memo where your tone was a mix of concern and frustration.

Just as you’re about to work yourself into another wave of panic, your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You scramble to grab it, barely registering Mingyu’s name flashing on the screen before answering, bringing it up to your ear.

“Mingyu? Where have you𑁋”

“Hi, baby,” he interrupts, voice warm like melted chocolate, but there’s something else there too𑁋something you can’t quite place. “Sorry I didn't call earlier. Were you worried?”

You let out a breath, flopping back against your pillows. “Worried? That’s an understatement. I was already debating if I should call that Wonwoo guy to track you down. I thought you got kidnapped or something!”

Mingyu lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound oddly laced with amusement. “I promise, no kidnappings today. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, love.” There’s some rustling sounds on the other end, like the sound of a piece of clothing being adjusted or the wind breezing through the air. “Are you home right now?”

“I𑁋Of course, I am. Are you? You sound like you’re outside.”

On the other end, Mingyu clears his throat. “I... uh, I had to do a lot of errands today.”

“Errands?” You frown, sitting up straighter in bed. “Since when do you run errands for ten hours straight without answering your phone?”

“Um, since... today?” he tries, voice holding that signature boyish charm, but there’s an unmissable nervous edge to it.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Gyu, what are you up to?”

“Nothing, nothing!” He laughs, but it sounds a little too forced. “Just… stuff. Important stuff.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You caught me,” he teases, but you hear the sound of a door closing on his end, the faint rustling of fabric, then𑁋what was that? The beeping of an elevator? Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Gyu,” You deadpan, your tone serious. “Where are you, really?”

“Home, obviously,” he answers, his footsteps echoing on the ground through the phone. “Can you do me a favour, baby? It’s a quick one, I promise.”

You huff a breath, unsure how much more you can tolerate him avoiding your questions. “What?”

“Check your front door.”

Your heart skips a beat at that, pursing your lips together at his words, throwing the covers off your body anyway. “Gyu…”

“Go open your door,” he repeats, voice soft now, almost giddy. “Please?”

“Did you send me a package?” You ask back. “I swear to God, Gyu, I’m going to be in a lot of debt just to pay you back.”

You hear the smile that blossoms on his face, even through the call. “Nonsense, baby. It’s just a small gift.”

Your mind races, breath catching in your throat as you practically throw your phone on speaker mode and stumble clumsily out of bed. With each hurried step towards your front door, your pulse thrums louder in your ears. This better not be a joke. This better not be some elaborate prank where he’s made you run to the door for nothing, or else you’ll kill him.

Pausing in front of your door, you take in a deep inhale.

Hand shaking slightly, you unlock the door and pull it open𑁋

𑁋and nearly stop breathing altogether.

Because standing right there, under the dim glow of the hallway lights, is Kim Mingyu.

Your Kim Mingyu.

Live. In person. Not pixelated through a stupid phone screen with spotty WIFI.

Kim Mingyu, in all his six-foot-something, broad-shouldered, grinning glory, standing on your doorstep with a suitcase propped by his side. His eyes glow under the dim apartment light with unrestrained joy as he takes your vulnerable appearance𑁋barefoot, hair slightly disheveled, drowning in an oversized hoodie that he bought you for Valentine’s day, your face a mixture of disbelief and awe. He’s drinking in the sight of you just as much as you’re drinking in him, standing frozen in the doorway.

“Bluetooth hug?” he requests shyly, voice slightly breathless, holding his phone up and ending the call.

Before you can even fully register everything, your body moves on autopilot. One second your feet are rooted to the floor, the next you’re launching yourself at him.

Mingyu barely has time to react before you’re in his arms, wrapping yourself around him in a tight embrace, your face burying into his chest. He lets out a soft, breathless laugh before his own large arms curl securely around you, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. His scent washes over you𑁋warm, familiar, safe𑁋and the moment his hands splay across your back, the reality of it all finally sinks in.

He’s here.

For the first time ever, he’s really, truly here.

And you’re sharing your first ever hug together. Not a Bluetooth hug, not that little hugging emoji he sends you through text. A real one.

“You idiot,” You mumble against his chest, clutching at the fabric of his sweater. “I can’t believe you𑁋”

“Believe it, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the crown of your head, his hold on you tightening. “God, you feel so much better than a pillow.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sob, tilting your head up to look at him. His gaze softens instantly at the sight of you, his hands cradling your face like you’re a precious gift. For a second, his eyes drop down to your lips, before coming back up to your face. You’re so much more beautiful in person. A phone screen is incomparable.

He sucks in a breath.

“You flew here?” You ask him, still caught in a daze of disbelief.

Mingyu chuckles, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. “Of course, I did. Didn’t want you spending your March break alone. But, uh…” He licks his lips, eyes dipping to yours again. “I really need to kiss you right now.”

You let out a soft hum, peeking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Hmm, well, do you?” You murmur, allowing your fingers to trail lightly over the nape of his neck. “I think you’d have to earn it.”

Mingyu blinks at that, letting out a choked sound𑁋half-frustration, half-amusement. “I just crossed an entire ocean for you, you little devil.”

And you know you can’t counter anything back with that, because he did.

“Yeah,” is all you can say with a heartfelt look, flickering a gaze at his lips as well, granting him permission to cross that line. “You did.”

And then his lips are on yours.

It’s slow and tentative at first𑁋like he’s taking his precious time memorising the feel of your mouth against his for the first time. It’s way better than what his dreams have given him, way better than what his fantasies have showed, way better than anything else he could imagine. But then you sigh against him, melting into him completely, and a coil within him snaps.

Mingyu presses into you firmly, causing you to stumble back towards the doorframe, deepening the kiss with a low, pleased hum and a wicked smirk that you could feel. You part your lips slightly, coaxing his tongue to sweep against yours, and he swallows the sounds that elicit from your mouth. It’s full of need, full of want, full of desire. His hands tighten around your waist, fingers gripping at the fabric of your hoodie like he never wants to let go.

Your knees feel weak, almost like jelly, and you swear you might actually float away if it weren’t for the way Mingyu holds you in his grasp, the way he keeps you his.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps against your lips, the heat of his kisses blossoming its petals throughout your body. “You taste like home.”

When you pull away slightly, breathless, Mingyu chases after your lips with a small whine.

“Come on.” You take his hand in yours for the first time, and it’s almost familiar in the way he fits perfectly in your hold. You can definitely get used to this. “Let me show you around.”

It’s the last night of your March break.

Which means, it’s also Mingyu’s last night with you too.

You don’t know where all your time with him went𑁋how it passed by so quickly yet so slowly. You’ve shown him so much of your world in just this miniscule window of time, shown him various spots in your city that created a particular chapter in your life, and yet, there’s still so much you want to share with him.

You watch as Mingyu stuffs some of his belongings into his suitcase. His flight is not until the next day, but seeing him begin to pack already makes your chest squeeze tightly. You feel as if he’s already perfectly settled his way into your chaotic routine, as if he’s already belonged in your day-to-day life. Even if it’s inevitable, the thought of your relationship going back to what it once was𑁋behind a simple screen, a simple text𑁋makes your stomach twist into a knot.

But you can conquer it, right? Most of your relationship has been spent doing long distance, anyway. He could always fly back to see you again, and you could always wait for the opportunity for your schedule to be free to finally cross that threshold into his own life.

This is merely the beginning for the two of you, merely the start of something new.

“You keeping that?” Mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his affectionate eyes watching the way you're threading your fingers through one of his shirts.

“Yeah,” You give him a faint smile. “Smells like you.”

An airy chuckle leaves him, his gaze taking in the saddened, defeated features of your face. He drops the pants he was folding up and picks himself up, sitting down right next to you at the edge of your bed. Leaning in, he presses a reassuring kiss to the tip of your nose, making your face scrunch cutely.

“You know this isn’t the end, right?” he assures, reaching out to lock a hand with yours. “I could always come visit you again. In the summer, most likely.”

“I know,” You reply dispiritedly, running a finger over his knuckle. “but I... I don’t want you to feel pressured to come visit me all the time. You have your own life, Gyu. I don’t want you to put everything on hold for me.”

Mingyu exhales softly, tilting your chin up so you're looking into those dark, warm eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies in them.

“Baby,” he murmurs tenderly. “You are my life.”

Your breath catches at that, and before you can say anything else, he’s already leaning in, capturing your mouth with a slow, sweet, loving kiss. A low whimper leaves you when he trails his lips to place one at the corner of your jaw, his hands finding its way to your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You don’t have it in you to resist𑁋you never could when you’re with him, anyway.

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his breath fanning over you. “I’ll always come back to you. Every single time. I’ll make time for you, no matter what, as long as you have me.”

And you want to have him. For a long time. His words wash over you like a calm, ocean tide, one that laps deliciously up your skin and drags you deeper into his embrace. Your heart beats in time with his, and it feels like you can’t get close enough. His lips brush back along the line of your jaw, and then, with a daring shift of his mouth, he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You inhale sharply, feeling a surge of heat rush through your body.

“Gyu…” You breathe out weakly, but he hears it, of course, the way your body reacts to his touch.

“You’re so cute,” he continues, lips ghosting over the column of your neck. “My girl, my princess, my entire heart. And I’ll make this entire night worth it for you, yeah? So you don’t forget it when I leave.”

The sweet promise of his words spikes up your pulse, rendering you breathless and melting into the arms of your mattress. Mingyu pays particular attention to a sweet spot on your neck, one he’s gotten to know very well now, nipping lightly. Then he lets a hand slide under your shirt, causing you to let out a gasp. The room suddenly feels confining, almost too suffocating to breathe in, yet you crave the closeness to him, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only girl that matters in the world.

“God, I need you,” he pants thickly. “I can’t leave without having you just one last time. Will you let me, baby? Let me love you tonight?”

The only thing you can do is nod, and that’s all it takes. Mingyu slowly peppers his kisses back up to your mouth, pulling away slightly to gaze at you. Desire clouds his half-lidded eyes, but his features reveal nothing short of devotion, adoration, just pure love. Compared to his other kisses from before, the one he simply gives you next is soft, languid.

Then he pulls away from you fully to stand up, and you watch as he grabs the hems of his shirt and pulls it off effortlessly, granting you with the sight of his chiseled, sculpted torso, his honey skin glowing under the dim lighting of your bedroom.

You gulp down a lump in your throat as he steps back towards you, looming over you with the familiar, teasing smirk tugging at his face. Then he dips his head down to catch your lips in a slow, tantalising kiss. His hands find their way to your waist again, fingers pressing firmly as he gently coaxes you backward down to the bed, easing you down with him.

He delicately cages you within the safety of his arms, his warmth swallowing you whole as he hovers above you. His lips don’t just kiss𑁋longing plagues how he lingers, how he tastes you like he’s memorising every inch of your mouth, like he’s afraid to forget the way you feel beneath him once he leaves.

His body shifts slightly, pressing you further into the mattress, slotting a knee between your thighs in a way that makes your head dizzy.

When he pulls back, he relishes the flushed look to your face with pride.

“My pretty girl,” Mingyu praises under his breath, already pushing up the ends of your shirt. “I’m all yours. Always.”

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majestyeverlasting · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! If you are willing I would like to request a Frankie morales x reader oneshot? 🙃🙃 im obsessed with Frankie x wife reader lately and I was thinking maybe you could write somethin where the reader is pregnant and having cramps / contractions while Frankie is out with his friends and calls him all freaked out but even though it’s just false labour he still rushes home anyway?🥰🥰

(I love your writing btw I hope you accept this request thank you <3)

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

Pairing Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary A night of laughter, love, and quiet devotion reminds you and Frankie how much your world has grown—especially with your baby on the way.

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! This is my first time writing for Frankie, so let me know what you guys think.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Across the living room, the evening news drones so low, the TV might as well not be on at all. Ten minutes ago, Frankie left you alone on the couch to go get ready for a night out. You’d looked up from your book long enough to catch the wink he shot you before disappearing up the staircase.

As easy as it would be for him to stay in, you insisted he go out and enjoy himself. The two of you had finally settled into your new home. Soon enough, the guys were starting to rib him about falling off the face of the earth.

He's getting better at striking a balance these days.

“Alright, hermosa,” he announces as he descends the stairs. “Here’s what I’m working with...”

Frankie walks back into the living room in dark-wash jeans and a sage button down. As you set your book aside, he offers a goofy spin in a lighthearted mockery of what you oftentimes do. You try to restrain your smile, but it shines through anyways. Frankie grins like he’s won a prize, teeth glinting along with the sparkle in his dark eyes.

Everyone said he was trouble when you first met. It didn’t take long to realize they meant the intoxicating kind that disarms a room, draws people in, makes them feel seen. The kind you’d never recover from losing if you let slip away.

A year ago, he got down on one knee and asked you for forever. That was the moment you realized that, in turn, you were the trouble he couldn’t bear to lose.

Before you have the chance to stand, he stalks over to you and leans down to capture your lips in a brief, tender kiss.

You smile when he pulls away to stand back up to his full height, all six feet and broad shoulders. Looking up at him from your seated position feels a little funny, but you can't bring yourself to mind. If for no other reason than the gentle way he pinches your upturned chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Have fun,” you murmur as you blink up at him.

“I will.”

“And be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie’s touch falls away, and you stand to wrap your arms around his neck.

You tuck your nose into his shirt as his strong arms encircle your waist. He smooths a large hand up your back before stilling at the nape of your neck to deliver a firm but gentle squeeze. As he starts to pull away, you slip your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with your nails. It’s been a while since his last haircut, and now the dark strands curl beneath his ears.

Frankie hums a low note of satisfaction. “Not fair.”

“Completely fair,” you lilt.

He chuckles and pulls back enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft as he says, “Should be back in a couple hours.”

“I’ll wait up.”

"You don't have to," he says.

"Don't I always?"

He thinks back over the times he's gone out without you, and yeah. You always do.

•••

It's quiet when he arrives back home.

He kicks his boots off at the door and notices a pink sticky note on the wall above the key holder. There's a smiley face and heart drawn on it along with "welcome back!!!" Frankie feels himself smiling as he plucks it off the wall and saunters further into the house.

In the living room, one lamp remains on so he can navigate his way through the otherwise dark space. You've folded the throw blanket. Fluffed and arranged the pillows like you do every night before bed. It’s the little things like that, little signs of life, that he’ll never tire of coming back home to.

When Frankie finally enters the bedroom, he sees your smile in the warm, dim lamplight. You're kneeling on the bed wearing the cutesy black pajama set he likes on you. A breathy chuckle escapes him as he takes you in before his eyes find yours.

He plays off the warmth in his cheeks by holding up the sticky note you had left for him.

You tilt your head with innocent, furrowed brows. “Where’d that come from?”

“Beats me," he plays along as you slide off the bed.

He sets the note on the dresser so he can rest his hands on your waist when you approach. The scent of vanilla evades his senses in the gentlest way.

“Did you have fun?” It’s a genuine question, but his mind goes fuzzy when you smooth your hands from his stomach up to his pecs.

With a distracted nod, his thumbs slip beneath your satin tank top to brush your skin. All he can think about is the gentleness of your touch. The way you begin to toy with the button at the top of his shirt without actually unbuttoning it.

“But not too much fun, right?” you ask. “You’re not too tired, are you?”

You finally pop the first button undone, then the next one, then the next. Revealing more and more of the dusting of hair across his tanned chest.

Rather than answering, he scoops you over his shoulder as you squeak his name.

Eight Months Later

It’s been a while since Frankie laughed this hard. When he’s finally on the verge of catching his breath, Santiago picks up from where Will left off in the story, and that pleasant side ache returns. If he weren't too busy swiping the tear from his eye, he reckons he’d see every head in the bar turned to gawk at the four cackling hyenas. A live country rock band plays as their soundtrack.

Luckily, that isn’t the case. Like them, everybody is lost in their own little worlds. With their own inside jokes and old stories that endure no matter how many times they're told.

“And that’s what your ass gets for trying to show off,” Will concludes. It earns him a prompt elbow to the side from his younger brother, whose cheeks are either flushed from the whiskey or embarrassment.

It had been the story about Benny getting told off by a group of older women during a group trip to Panama. Not in English, but in Spanish. The icing on the cake was that they had been pausing every few words so Santiago could translate for them in real time.

As their amusement begins to settle, they look around at each other and shake their heads. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten together like this. Frankie takes a small swig from his beer and lets his head rest against the wall behind him.

Under the dim lights, with drinks on the table, and surrounded by strangers, it feels as though no time has passed at all.

Benny’s eyes rove over to the recreation room, where people shoot pool and throw darts.

“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m ready to kick some ass in a game of 501,” he says.

William folds his hands on the table. “We puttin' money up?”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Benny scoffs and pulls a face. “I’m leaving here with something.”

“Twenty-five each and the winning team splits the pot?” Santiago proposes. “I call Fish on my team.” He gives Frankie's shoulder a squeeze.

Benny drums a beat on the table. “Let’s do it.”

They’re in the middle of scooting past other patrons when Frankie’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of your face light up the screen. Santiago is the only one in the group who notices.

“Gotta take this,” Frankie tells him, and answers the call as he turns away.

“Hang on one second, honey, I’m getting someplace quiet.”

To make it to the front of the establishment, he shuffles between a small sea of tables filled with people with loose smiles and glowy faces. He holds the door open for a group of young ladies filing inside, which earns him a series of chirpy thank-yous. The giddy energy of the night fades once he’s outside, as if it was all stuffed within the walls of Dave's Bar and Grill. With the patio being around back, only a few people stand smoking out front.

The air is warm. A couple of the parking lot lights flicker. Frankie heads toward one of the benches as he says, “Alright, sweetheart, I’m here.”

A heavy breath is the first thing that greets him from the other end of the line.

“Frankie,” your voice is shaky, and his brow furrows as he takes a seat.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, his voice even softer.

“I’m cramping pretty bad right now.” You take another deep breath. “I think it’s the Braxton Hicks the nurse was telling us about. They’re finally happening.”

He stands from the bench and begins pacing along the curb. “You sure they're the false ones?” he asks. “You know you’re body better than anybody else…”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.” Another sharp ache pulses low in your stomach, and makes you bite back a small whine.

Frankie releases his lower lip from between his teeth as guilt tugs at his chest. “Go lay down, okay?” he says as he fishes his truck keys out of his pocket. “Or run yourself a bath if you can manage. Nurse said that’s supposed to help.”

Shuffling arises on your end. “Okay,” you murmur.

“I’m on my way.”

Tonight, you can’t muster the willpower to tell him to stay out with his friends. Ever since you hit the thirty-four-week mark, you’ve been hyper-aware of every pang, flutter, and gurgle. Even if you were the one feeling the heat, it was easier to walk through the flames with him.

“Drive safe, okay?” you say. “Go the speed limit.”

“I’m always safe.” It’s a white lie, but he was getting much better. Especially now that he was about to have two people looking forward to him arriving home in one piece at the end of the day.

Life is a delicate, fragile, remarkable thing. It’s a fact that solidified all the more the first time you showed him a black-and-white ultrasound and pointed out your little girl.

“I’ll be there soon,” he promises.

Santiago steps outside as he's hanging up, immediately scoping out Frankie.

“Everything alright, man?” He searches Frankie’s gaze. He’s always analyzing and piecing together. People, places, things. Frankie doesn’t have to say anything. “Your wife and baby okay?”

Frankie nods, but there’s worry etched across his face. “Gonna head home to be on the safe side.”

“I’ll let the guys know.” Santiago pulls Frankie into a hug and gives him a few pats on the back. “It was good seeing you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

“Guess it’ll have to be a playdate next time,” Santiago teases.

Frankie cracks a smile.

•••

With the bathroom door cracked, you can hear the familiar shuffling of Frankie entering the house. His keys clink into the bowl shortly before the steps begin to creak under his weight. One purposeful footstep after the next, until he’s filling the doorway with a hand on his hip. But you sit in the bathtub with your eyes closed and your head tipped back. The subtle scent of lavender fills the humid air. You’re only visible from your collarbones up, and your pregnant stomach rises above the bubbly water.

Rather than speaking, he stands there and takes you in with those soft, dark eyes. You’re beautiful where you lay. His gaze is palpable, and opening your eyes to meet it solidifies for him that you’re okay. It's a silent assurance. These moments when you don't need words have only grown in number. Every trace of worry that once existed has dwindled away.

As he takes a small step inside, he tosses his baseball cap onto the sink counter and runs a hand through his hair. Tension melts from his shoulders in real time. Makes him look even taller where he stands.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you say, then note, "Your shoes."

The teasing undertone to your words makes him chuckle. At himself, at the fact that he’d rushed home, despite your warning, with a head full of clamoring thoughts. Thoughts of arriving to you in labor and having to deliver his own child. Or packing you into his truck and needing to pull over and do the very same. There was no middle ground.

He’d dedicated years of his life to working under the most intense pressure, but it was his pregnant wife who’d finally thrown that composure off course.

Yet here you were pointing out the fact that he had tracked his shoes upstairs.

Frankie crouches to untie his boots before kicking them off his feet. He stumbles in the process and has to brace himself on the sink. The smile already budding on your face blooms into a fuller one when he huffs and peeks over at you. When you straighten up, the water sloshes and reveals more of you chest.

A long sigh escapes him as he sits alongside the tub and stretches his long legs out in front of him. That’s when a laugh bubbles up your throat. Despite his best efforts to retrain his own amusement, he can’t help but join in. The two of you sit there laughing in a mix of relief and acceptance of the fact that your worlds have only just begun to change.

A comfortable silence soon settles in the space between you. Frankie gets an almost wistful look about him as he stares straight ahead.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask after a while.

He rests his arm on the side of the tub. “Us,” he answers. “Being parents.”

There’s an understated sense of anticipation in his tone that he still hasn’t been able to put into words. A small hint of apprehension lingers too, but the type that propels as opposed to paralyzes.

You hum as you run a wet hand over your glistening stomach.

“I love you,” he continues softly. “I love her.”

He reaches out to splay his large hand over your stomach. You smile as he continues talking, “Love that I get to do this with you.”

Fondness swells in your chest all the more. Like a third lung set on sustaining you too.

“I’d kiss you right now, but I don’t know how,” you admit.

Without hesitating, Frankie shifts so he’s able to steady your chin and press his lips to yours. You lift a hand to rest the tips of your fingers against his scruffy cheek. Frankie hums when you ghost your tongue along his lower lip, only to pull away like you have something to say. Before you can speak, he presses back in for one more soft peck, then touches his forehead to yours.

You feel yourself smiling. “What I was trying to say,” you start, but Frankie kisses you again because you’re right there, and because he can.

Butterflies erupt all throughout your stomach.

“Go ahead,” he finally coaxes with a small smile, lips brushing yours. “What were you gonna say, hermosa?” There’s a gruff, honeyed quality to his voice that you’re certain is intentional.

“That I love you too,” you whisper.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all!

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

ALL MASTERLISTS

#frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x pregnant reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales smut

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gojonanami · 2 years ago

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TASTES SWEETER ON YOUR LIPS - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: on a rare day off, you decide to take care of the strongest sorcerer -- with something very sweet. ✴︎ contents: pure domestic fluff, based on that clip of gojo freaking out over pancakes in the phantom parade game, taking care of gojo the way he deserves - with sweets and yourself :), implied smut, some food play, mostly implied, ✴︎ wc: 754

It was a rare day off for Satoru Gojo.

No missions — overseas or otherwise. No training to deal with for his students. No annoying higher ups to deal with.

Just the two of you in bed. Satoru was sound asleep, curled up beside you, pretty long white eyelashes and pink lips parted. How was it possible to look perfect while sleeping? Everything about your husband was truly unfair.

But considering everything he did — you ran your fingers through his snowy locks — he deserved it. He worked so hard, always with a smile, barely with a complaint — you had to badger out of him half of the time, except about the higher ups — and always did his best for everyone around him.

And the opportunity to spoil him became rare, especially with how busy everything had been with Itadori, the special grades, and everything else he had on his plate. So why not today?

You sneak out of bed, being as quiet as possible as you head to the kitchen. You had found a recipe for soufflé pancakes with a chocolate and butter pecan sauce. Satoru had been complaining that he hadn’t had time to try the new trend recently — finding the perfect cafe for the two of you in Kyoto, but hadn’t had the time to get out there. But you thought why not beat him to the punch?

Anything to make him happy.

Satoru’s eyes fluttered open, the sunlight falling across his eyelids as he stirred, reaching for you, only to find an empty bed. He sighed, eyes opening and he could sense you in the kitchen, and you were — cooking?

He sits up.

What was that scent? It’s so sweet.

He’s wandering into the kitchen, yawning, as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him as he buries his head in the nape of your neck sleepily.

“What are you doing?” It’s half a question, half a whine, “why’re you up so early—“ and then he spots the two plates in front of you, and he gasp, “what—“

“Surprise,” you giggle at his wide eyed gaze, “your six eyes are gonna pop out if you look any harder, baby,”

“Where did you—“

“I made them. I found a recipe and I had most of the ingredients on hand anyway,” you turn to face him, cupping his cheeks, “I know how hard you’ve been working, Toru, and I just wanted you to know I see it — and I’m here to take care of you sometimes,” you lean up and kiss his cheek.

And his lips curl into a wide grin, and he’s greedy, as he’s tugging you back, “you missed, sweetheart,” and he’s kissing your lips, and somehow you’re the best and the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, “I love you,” he murmurs, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“Keep asking yourself that,” and he’s picking you up and spinning you, as you gasp and giggle, holding onto him, “Toru—“

“Yes, my lovely wife?” You lean down and kiss his goofy grin off his lips.

“Let’s have some pancakes, ok?” And he only smiled wider, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Only if I can have you afterwards,” and you laugh.

“Deal,”

“Satoru, that is your third plate of—“

“These pancakes are so good! They’re so fluffy and warm and perfect—I’ve never had such a fluffy pancake!“ and he’s taking another large bite, “and the sauce? What the hell is in that sauce?”

“Toru—“ and he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you can taste the sweet syrup sauce on his lips, “what—“

“I think this sauce tastes sweeter on your lips,” he’s licking his lips clean, pressing a kiss to your neck, his cerulean eyes colored with lust, “do you have more?” And his eyes drift to the bowl of sauce on the counter, his fingers dipping in the sauce, before dragging it along your lips and then your jaw.

And your breath catches, as he leans over, his lips and tongue dragging along the same path he left, sucking at the sauce and your skin, before he reaches your lips. And his tongue darts out and tastes the sauce, before kissing you, sweet tongue slipping into your mouth, drawing a moan from your lips.

He draws back, spit clinging to the corner of his mouth, a grin on his lips, as you pant, eyes drifting to the sauce and back to him.

“…let’s go back to bed.”

And Satoru Gojo certainly had a very sweet day off with you.

✴︎ a/n: what is this? i have no idea. i actually really wanna try those fluffy pancakes they sound really good. but also gojo's too cute.

✴︎ taglist: @capitana18girl, @1cadence, @madam-milf, @ceceher, @forest-fruits-jam, @black-nirvanna, @naanamikentoo

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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national anthem - gojo satoru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking (cigarettes + weed) summary: you're a special grade? with no life experience? someone like you sure is lucky gojo satoru wants to take you under his wing and show you how to enjoy life. gojo satoru sure is lucky that someone like you teaches him how to love. more info: set in 2006, friends to lovers, gojo sort of wants to corrupt reader but he's too soft on her, he's an overconfident coward in this idk you figure it out

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i’m your national anthem, god you’re so handsome, take me to the hamptons, bugatti, veyron // he loves to romance ‘em reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon // he says to be cool but, i don’t know how yet // wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Two Special Grade Sorcerers in one place was already a fight for territory and ego- at least to Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru never really felt a push to prove himself, but his white haired counterpart seemed to enjoy a good ol’ fashion pissing competition, so when Satoru felt like being competitive, he often just went along with it. Besides, there was a certain entertainment in watching him lose. Satoru would tell anyone that he didn’t feel threatened around Suguru- or Yuki, when she was around- but there was an undeniable flicker of excitement in his eye when an opportunity came along to show off.

A show off, that was the perfect description for the first impression (y/n) got when she first met the infamous Six Eyes. She wasn’t sure what to expect arriving at Jujutsu Tech on that sunny afternoon in 2006. The mixture of giddiness and unease from picking everything up and starting life over at the ripe age of eighteen had her insides all fluttery, but she was fairly certain her excitement outweighed all else.

The manager who’d picked her up from the train station and drove her to her new home had given her a short introduction to the other sorcerers her age, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the whirlwind of their first official meeting.

“So you’re the new Special Grade meat!”

She’s startled as soon as she approaches the group of three. She’d been all smiles, ready to hold out her hand and introduce herself properly, but it appeared they’d already known all about her.

“Shut up Satoru, you sound like a douchebag,” The dark haired sorcerer beside the loud one shouldered past, reaching out to be the first to shake her hand. (y/n) still has a bewildered look on her face as she reciprocates, confusedly glancing between the two. “Don’t mind him, he’s always like that. I’m Geto, but everyone calls me Suguru anyways, so you can too”

“Alright,” She says through an airy laugh. “Then I’m (y/n)... the Special Grade meat”

Suguru shares the laugh as he drops his hand, and suddenly the white haired one is darting forward, pushing him aside just as he’d done to him moments ago, and grabbing (y/n’s) hand before she could fully lower it. Her eyes are wide, every instinct telling her to take three steps back, but she lets him shake it at a wild pace.

The cursed energy that comes off of him in waves hits her like a truck, solid, undeniable, strength. Reason tells her that he could end her life with his handshake alone. The goofy, shit eating grin on his face tells her otherwise.

“Gojo Satoru!” He introduces, still shaking her hand. “But you already knew that, right?”

Wordlessly, she shakes her head at him, curiosity striking her the longer she took him in. A show off for sure, with the volume of his voice despite being right in front of her, with the performance in his ongoing handshake, with that stupid smile he hadn’t wiped off his face yet, with all that cursed energy- Gojo Satoru was a sight to behold and he knew it, too.

Back home it would’ve ticked her off, but for some reason, there’s a compulsion to her amusement in him. Slowly, her bewildered expression morphs into one of pleasant surprise.

“Can’t say I had the slightest idea,” She replies, and that seems to do the trick to get his smile to falter, even momentarily. Technically, she knew of him, only because of the manager’s due diligence in giving her the names of her new colleagues, but she wasn’t about to treat him to that information. “But I do now,” Her smile brightens, “You’re the guy with the white hair”

He scoffs at first, not out of disgust or annoyance, but pure surprise at the genuine response. The two behind him, Suguru, and the girl she hadn’t met quite yet, Ieiri Shoko, were nearly doubled over in laughter. Loud cackles that echoed across the courtyard they stood in. (y/n) merely held her polite smile as she waited for Gojo Satoru’s full reaction.

His shit eating grin softened into a more authentic smile, amusement casted over his features as he gazed down at her through his lenses. He didn’t need his Six Eyes to tell him she was strong, her own cursed energy seemed to buzz and crackle right off of her like electricity. As if she’d been gathering up static for so long and it was dying to leap right out of her. It would be overwhelming, if he wasn’t the sorcerer he was.

“Always noticed for my looks first,” He sighs dramatically, and (y/n) raises a brow at him, slightly amused, slightly intrigued. “But I guess we’ll have that in common, huh, Special Grade?”

Before she’s given any real time to react, or even process what he’s said, he’s interrupted.

“Alright, that’s enough of you, you’re making us all look bad now,”

The third sorcerer with the lab coat and an unlit cigarette in her hands is the next to leap forward, grabbing Gojo Satoru by the elbow and forcibly yanking until he gives in and drags his feet back to Suguru. (y/n) watches as he mutters under his breath and makes wild hand gestures to Suguru- who seems to roll his eyes and remain otherwise unresponsive.

“You won’t get used to him, so get used to knowing that now,” The girl says, capturing (y/n’s) attention. “I’m Shoko, I’ll be your best friend here, alright? Don’t let him get too comfortable”

(y/n) giggles, introducing herself yet again with a shy fit of laughter.

“Seems like he gets comfortable pretty quick,” She muses, casting a glance over to where Suguru was trying to drag his friend away. He didn’t seem to be winning that fight, and it wasn’t long before Gojo was going boneless against him. “So, small class size, huh?”

“Yeah, well, not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers out there,” Shoko shrugs. “And… we had a few transfers to Kyoto. Which were totally not due to that idiot” She adds the second part under her breath, but when (y/n) laughs, she does too.

“Well, I’ll try not to transfer, then”

Shoko brightens, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed.

(y/n’s) sure she’ll stay true to her word. Besides, it had seemed like her time at Jujustu Tech would prove to be interesting… maybe even fun.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The smell of tobacco wasn’t pleasant, but she tries to put up with it for the sake of Suguru and Shoko. It appeared that the most exciting part of their night was sharing a smoke by Shoko’s window, as they’d visibly relaxed once they’d sparked up.

It didn't matter that (y/n) didn’t voice her discomfort, because Gojo Satoru could see it written all over her. The way her eyes widened when Shoko had pulled out the pack, the way her nose crinkled when Suguru lit the first cig, and even now, how she can’t stop anxiously glancing over to the two of them as they smoked.

“You’re not a smoker, huh?”

She’d been sitting against the wall, a mostly forgotten magazine in her lap when Gojo had approached her, crouching down to her level to properly gain her attention.

“Huh?” She’s lost at first, but it only takes a short nod of his head towards the window for her mind to catch up. “Oh, um, I guess I’ve never really smoked before, but, no, I’m not a smoker”

It’s unexplainable, the way she stammers over her explanation like it’s a lie. Because it’s the complete truth. She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life, and she’d never been around anyone who did. The smell was only familiar because of how often it wafted amongst the streets, but it was always unpleasant. Trying it for herself had never really crossed her mind.

“You’ve never tried it?” Gojo tilts his head curiously, and for a moment she thinks he resembles a cat, but before she could tell him the connection, he’s standing up again and striding over to the window.

She can only watch as he swipes the pack of cigarettes from between the two, scowling when he pops open the box.

“Did you buy this yesterday?” He scoffs, plucking out one of the sticks before tossing it back at Suguru, who catches it with ease, but frowns back at the white haired sorcerer. “Jeez, addicts much?”

“Relax, Satoru” Suguru rolls his eyes just as Gojo snatches the lighter off the windowsill as well. It earns him another glare, but neither Suguru or Shoko comment on it, instead returning to whatever conversation they’d been having before Gojo had so rudely interrupted them.

It’s not until he’s returning to her spot on the floor and taking a seat beside her that she realizes why he’s done this.

“Here ya are,” He grins, holding the items out to her in both hands. (y/n’s) eyes wander between the two, the cancer stick in his left hand, the hot pink lighter in his right, before looking up at him and shaking her head. “What, you don’t wanna try it?”

“I just… I mean…” She struggles to give him a proper reason. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, because she couldn’t care less what other people chose to do, but she wasn’t about to lie to him and say she was ecstatic to get a taste of the thing she knows is bad for her. “I don’t think I’d like it…”

“Well, that’s alright,” Gojo chuckles as he shrugs his shoulders. “I hate it. It’s nasty,”

He goes so far as to stick his tongue out towards the window, where Shoko had clearly overheard his less-than-quiet comment. She returns the favor, but Gojo’s already turned back to (y/n).

“It reeks. And it burns a bit. And honestly? I’d rather spend the money on mochi,” He tells her honestly, and it earns him a giggle, so he smiles a little wider. “But you deserve to at least try it, right?” He asks, wiggling the lighter at her. “Just to say you did it?”

“I’m not really wired that way,” She admits, her laughter turning nervous, but nonetheless, she finds herself plucking the lighter from his fingers. “Why try something I know I’ll hate?” She asks, and generally, it’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo’s answer does have her curious.

“Because,” He shrugs again. “Trying new things is the fun part,” He suggests, before adding, “And just because you can”

Her eyes drift down to the pink lighter in her hand. She rolls it over between her fingers a few times, fiddling with it as the idea settles in her mind. She gets lost enough in thought that she doesn’t even realize how fluidly she’s twirling the small object between her fingers like it was a trick of misdirection, but Gojo finds amusement in how easily and quickly she’s able to maneuver it about the back of her knuckles.

“I can’t say I have an argument for that,” She tells him finally, turning to him with a small smile, and her hand outstretched. “But when I hate it, you can’t be mad”

He doesn’t place the cigarette in her palm like she’s expecting, instead raising it towards her lips, flicking it slightly to prompt her to open her mouth.

“Don’t bite down too hard, you’ll ruin it,” He instructs. She blinks at him in surprise, but follows along anyways and parts his lips so he could set it between them. She keeps her hold on it as light as possible. “And the taste of tobacco is awful,” He adds in a quieter voice.

She tries not to think about how close he sits to her, or how his fingers brush over her bottom lip and then her chin as he places the cigarette between her lips, but the harder she tries not to think about it, the more he thinks about it.

“Want me to light it for you?” He asks, and now he’s the one to hold his palm out to her.

Too nervous to speak with the cig in her mouth, she gives him a small nod, and places the lighter back in his hand. He grins when her fingers drag over his before she pulls her hand away.

“Alright, don’t overthink it,” He says, leaning forward a little closer with the lighter in hand. “I’ll light it, and all you gotta do is breathe in. Not too harsh, just a little inhale, got it?”

She shrugs and nods, certain she could understand the complexities of smoking a cigarette, but she had a feeling that Gojo Satoru liked knowing what to do, and showing her what to do, so she let him. It couldn’t hurt, right? If she fed his ego just a little bit?

With a flick of his thumb a small flame erupts, and soon the end of the cigarette is burning. Just as he said, she takes in a short breath, just enough to feel the smoke touch her lungs.

Her eyes meet his when he pulls the lighter away, but he stays sitting closely in front of her. Even through the dark lenses he always kept perched on his nose she could tell that he was eager to watch her reaction.

She rips the stick from her mouth and coughs, and even once all the smoke is expelled, she sticks her tongue out with the desire to rid her mouth of the terrible flavor.

Gojo chuckles quietly, taking the cigarette from between her fingers as he stands up for a moment. He’s sitting again just a second later, passing her a bottle of water that she takes and chugs down greedily. He’s still laughing when he passes the cigarette to the window dwellers.

“So you were right, huh?” He asks her after she’s got half the water down.

She nods back at him, taking a few more gulps to soothe the ache in her chest from her own coughing.

“But at least you tried it?”

Finally pulling the bottle away, she turns to face him again. Her brows are pinched together with annoyance, but there’s a flicker of a smile on her lips that Satoru can’t ignore. It makes his heart beat at a disastrously wild pace. It makes him grin.

“Oh, I’ll be telling everyone you peer pressured me,” She tells him assuredly, to which he scoffs, but before he could argue, she continues. “But… at least I tried it”

The momentary defensive stature he’d taken relaxes just as quickly, and he even laughs a bit.

“Atta girl, Special Grade,” He teases. “That’s the spirit”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she picks up her magazine and settles back against the wall in a comfortable position. Gojo doesn’t have much interest in fashion, but he sits beside her and follows along as she flips through it anyways.

She supposes it’s because he has no interest in smoking with the others, that this was the better option. He supposes it’s just because her shampoo smelled so light and fruity that he wouldn’t mind lingering around just a bit longer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[gojo s.] are you up?? 1:46 a.m.

[y/n] it’s almost 2. 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] fast response! so ur wide awake! :D 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] put on something warm and come to the window 1:48 a.m.

Gawking at her phone, (y/n’s) sure this is just some kind of stupid joke. There was no way if she peeked out her window now that Gojo Satoru would be standing out there. This late at night? On a Tuesday? They had training tomorrow bright and early- and wasn’t there a curfew?

She’s not sure what comes over her when she actually shuffles out of her warm covers and tiptoes over to the window. Peeking through the curtain just to be sure wouldn’t hurt, right?

Sure enough, when she pulls the curtain aside just enough to look outside, Gojo Satoru is standing out there. He must’ve been expecting her to check, because he’s looking straight at her, grinning from ear to ear before he waves.

(y/n) shuts the curtain and snatches her phone off the bed. Just as she begins to furiously type, she’s getting an incoming call. With a huff, she answers it and brings the phone to her ear.

“Gojo Satoru, what the hell are you doing outside my-”

“I knew you’d be down!” He’s shouting before she could finish her scolding, and (y/n) winces as she tilts the speaker of her phone away from her ear to relieve the ringing he’d caused. “Get dressed and hop on out!”

“Hop on out-? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you wanna go do something fun?”

“Right now?” She lets out a humorless laugh. “Gojo, it’s the middle of the night, I’ve been trying to sleep”

“I can’t sleep either,” He replies, completely missing the point, but it’s only then that she starts to hear him out. “I need a midnight snack,” He adds, this time his voice filled with it’s usual syrupy level of glee. “I’m sure it’d help you, too!”

It’s a ridiculous idea. She had training in about five hours from now, and so far tonight she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Gojo Satoru might’ve been all powerful, but that didn’t mean he had power over her, he couldn’t just make her go because he wanted a snack and company to go along with it. It would be incredibly easy to tell him no and hang up the phone, and it would keep her out of trouble, too. A double win.

Yet, she’s at her dresser and pulling off her pajamas before she’s even given him a verbal response.

“I hear movement, are you getting dressed?” He asked her, full of hope and excitement.

“Yes,” She huffs as she gets into her uniform slacks. They were the only pants she owned that weren’t pajamas- and there was no way she was going out in the middle of the night with Gojo Satoru in hello kitty pajamas.

After throwing her jacket over her tee shirt and buttoning it up enough, she crept back over to her window, pulling open the curtains properly, her phone still in her hand.

“Oh good-!”

Before he could finish whatever he was saying, she snaps her phone shut and slides it into her back pocket. She needed both hands to slide the window open, at least if she wanted to do it carefully enough that it didn’t creak and squeak when she did so.

Even from a story below, she can tell that Gojo is pouting at his own phone before he puts it away. He seems to get over it once she’s got her window open and she’s swinging a leg out, though.

“Come on down, Juliet, I’ll catch you!” He hollers, louder than he should have.

(y/n) swings her other leg out, sitting on the window sill almost completely leaning out of the building.

“Move out of the way, Gojo” She hisses down at him, but he only extends his arms, waving his fingers at her to prompt her to come down already.

He’d been pacing around out here for the last forty-five minutes debating on texting her, so he was antsy to finally get going.

Giving up, (y/n) pushed off the window sill, and landed on her feet with ease and perfect balance seconds later. She certainly didn’t need him to catch her, but he’s right in front of her anyways, hands settling on her shoulders as if she wasn’t standing before him in perfect condition.

“Good?” He asks, and he’s still grinning ear to ear, but it’s a little different.

She’s not sure how she didn’t notice before, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. She could see the crinkles at the corners of his bright blue eyes when he smiled. For a half a second, she could’ve gotten lost in the cerulean waves swirling in his irises. His eyes were bright even in the dark, they practically gave the illusion of glowing.

“Yeah- yeah,” She chokes on her answer, and quickly averts her gaze before he could tease her for staring at him so blatantly. “Let’s just get going, I don’t want to get caught”

“I’d never get us caught,” Gojo scoffs, apparently offended that she could even think such a thing. “Besides, you’ve got a clean track record, you’d probably get off easy anyways”

She rolls her eyes at him as they start their trek off campus, but she can’t help the small smile of amusement on her face. Gojo wasn’t wrong, she did have a squeaky clean record, which she’d proudly maintained since transferring here, but now…

It wasn’t that she was aiming to rebel, she didn’t need to do anything crazy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t live a little… right? And what was one trip to a twenty-four hour convenience store in the grand scheme of things?

“Has anyone ever told you you’re obnoxious?” She asks, but her voice betrays her with soft fondness, and it’s obvious that Gojo notices with the way he looks over at her with the largest, stupidest grin on his face.

“Never with a straight face,” He replies, only to laugh when he catches her smiling at him as soon as he looks at her. She wants to roll her eyes again, but she doesn’t. She just laughs with him and doesn’t argue. “You can admit you like my company, I won’t tell anyone,” He adds, only partially teasing. “”Promise”

“You better keep that promise,” (y/n) mutters back. “For whatever her odd reason, Shoko thinks I’m cool, and I’d like to keep that status”

“That’s because you perform your twisted little cursed technique on her every time she asks,” Gojo says. “Shoko’s got an obsession with the occult, and you are certainly all things occult”

The corner of her lips tilt into a smirk. She wouldn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t wrong about her cursed technique. With the ability to access anyone’s thread of fate- that little string hidden in their soul that keeps them alive as long as it’s intact- her cursed technique was a bit more involved than the other Special Grades’ she’d met thus far.

It was gruesome when executed on an assignment, Gojo had seen it first hand only once. With a plunge of her hand into a curse’s body she’d retrieve the thread, and rip it apart with both fists. The curse was exorcized immediately and they called it a day sooner than expected.

Shoko, however, enjoyed seeing it the way anyone liked a party trick. She’d clasp her hands together and beg for (y/n) to open up her soul for her. All of her hours spent in the morgue and the lab might’ve been warping her curiosity, but she was always delighted when cursed energy would encase (y/n’s) hand and she’d reach right into her body as if she phased right through the skin and bones, before retrieving that solid black thread.

“Are you saying that I’m not cool?” (y/n) asks Gojo suddenly, and she’s only messing with him, but he backtracks instantly.

“I never said that!” He shouts, his voice echoing over the empty path they walked into town. “You’re easily the coolest person I’ve ever met, (y/l/n) (y/n). You put the special in Special Grade for sure!”

That has her rolling her eyes again, even though she’s laughing at the stupid line.

“There are more interesting qualities about you than a cursed technique, that’s all,”

The sudden genuine comment has her laughter fading and a look of quiet surprise overtaking her features when she looks back at him. He’s already staring at her, with that stupid grin and his prying eyes that seemed a little softer now. He had these moments often, where in the midst of his teasing and nonsense, he’d say something so deeply real, and she knew it, that it would practically knock the wind out of her. Like right now, where all she can do is stare at him and wait for him to say something else.

“Like, yeah, I have the Six Eyes and I’m mastering Infinity and sure, I suppose I am the strongest being on this earth, maybe ever,” He starts to ramble, and (y/n) can practically feel the idiot comment making it’s way out. “But I’m more than that. I’m also… really handsome,”

She snorts, before a short burst of giggles follows and she shakes her head. Just as expected, Gojo Satoru will always bury the real feelings under the perfectly tailored facade.

“What? It’s true!” He barks in offense when she laughs. “I’m ridiculously handsome- it’s almost too much hotness for one man to carry alone!”

“Uh-huh”

“So you agree? I’m ridiculously handsome?” He grins like he actually caught her in something, and she laughs again.

“I didn’t say that,” But she didn’t exactly deny it either, did she? “But more importantly, you’re ridiculously rich, and you’re buying me mochi, too”

And just like him, she’ll bury the budding sparks of feelings she doesn’t want to admit she has in order to preserve something more long lasting. Friendship. She’d never had friends like this before, people who understood her so deeply, people who took an interest in her even when their interests didn’t align. Gojo Satoru especially took an interest, and she had a feeling he enjoyed making her push her limits, because she enjoyed letting him do it.

“Pfft, fine,” Satoru mutters in mock annoyance. “Was jus’ gonna buy it anyways”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After that, Gojo Satoru has a knack for getting (y/n) to sneak out of her dorm past curfew. He wasn’t always dragging her off campus, oftentimes they’d just sit on the roof, or wander the courtyards, but there was the occasional midnight snack run that he’d insist on taking her on. One time he insisted on showing her how he’d refined his technique, so she sat around for a good two hours while he just showed off. This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, so she sat and gave him her attention even though her time would’ve been much better spent sleeping.

Unfortunately, and unknown to him, the feelings that she was developing for him had started to accelerate. It seemed that with every night he came to her window to pester her, her heart simply couldn’t feel irritation towards him. Not that he couldn’t get under skin, it’s just that he managed to settle in there. To the point where when she was away from him, she found herself counting down the time until she’d get to be near him again.

It was almost pathetic, when she really thought about it. Missing the boisterous presence of Gojo Satoru was laughable. At first she buried the idea, but she wasn’t one to live a life of denial, and no sooner than he could next drag her out in the middle of the night did she accept that she was actually falling for the Six Eyes user. Their friends would poke fun at her if they knew- which they did, but this wasn’t due to her actually telling them.

But it was unable to be helped. He always found a way to make her heart skip a beat before it picks up in pace.

“I think Nanami is a worthy sorcerer, I don’t have any problem with his company” She shrugs with her words, before leaning back on her elbows.

The tiles of the roof weren’t the most comfortable to sit on, but they often found themselves lounging around there anyways. Maybe it was because it was the perfect place to view the stars, or maybe conversation just seemed to come so much easier up there.

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Satoru mutters, a bitterness to his words that she didn’t often hear from him. He was always overbearingly sweet or chipper with his speech. Maybe it was the roof that brought on a sudden change in tone, or maybe it was because they were something he couldn’t hold back. “You’re more than capable of taking that assignment alone. You’re Special Grade. You don’t need some first year- or anyone- to partner up with you,”

Just as she’s about to open her mouth to come to Nanami Kento’s defense, she seals her lips tight. It wasn’t about Nanami’s ability at all, she realized, as Gojo set his gaze firmly on the horizon. It was about hers.

“The higher ups never want to admit when someone is stronger than them, probably ‘cause they’re scared we’ll overthrow them, or something,” He mumbles the last part, but (y/n) has a feeling there’s more feelings brewing beneath the surface of his bitterness. “They want to morph into this strong… thing… but then as soon as you actually achieve their ridiculous expectations they’ll spend the rest of your life doing everything they can to remind you that you’re not…” He trails off for a moment, and even though he’s refusing to look at her, she can see emotion flickering in the corner of his eye. He lets out a sigh before finishing his thought, “... good enough”

(y/n’s) quiet as she lets it sink in. She doesn’t want to speak too soon and lead him to assume she’d brushed off all he said, but before she could accurately voice her thoughts, he turns to her and releases an airy laugh.

His lips are curved into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and (y/n) can’t help but frown before he even says anything.

“I don’t think that came out right-”

“No, it did,” She interrupts him gently. She gives him a small nod of her head, understanding perfectly what he was saying. It was a warning, but it was also a compliment to her abilities, and she wanted him to know that she appreciated it in it’s entirety. Surprisingly, Satoru shuts his mouth. “If taking on partnered assignments is what gets me through the rest of my time here, I’ll do it,” She explains, and she watches as his forced smile begins to crumple with disappointment. “Besides, it’s good for Nanami to get the experience too, yeah?” She muses, but Satoru’s expression doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink. “I have to fall somewhere in between being a good sorcerer and being a good upperclassman, too”

“You’re already doing that,” He points out, almost rudely, but his adamance makes her heart stutter. “You’re a Special Grade, and you already train and tutor the others, what more could possibly be asked of you?”

His upset is evident in his features, but the creases of his frown and pinched brows only deepen when (y/n) lets out a soft laugh. It’s quiet, but genuine nonetheless. She couldn’t help but find comfort and amusement in his determination.

“Sorry,” She murmurs when she realizes her laughter only fueled his irritation. “I’m just amazed that Gojo Satoru is so worried about my reputation”

“I’m not- (y/n), it’s about more than- ugh,” He huffs after he stumbles too much and loses sight of what he was really trying to say. This time, (y/n) stifles her laughter behind sealed lips, but the slight movement in her shoulders still gives her away. Satoru turns away again, his face growing warm as he finally mumbles in defeat, “I just don’t want them taking advantage of you, too”

(y/n’s) smiling at him, although he can only sort of tell with his peripheral vision. She leans forward and tilts her head, trying to get him to turn towards her again, but he refuses. He can’t have her seeing the creeping blush on his face, after all.

“Thank you, Satoru” She tells him, and it’s the first time she’s called him by his forename alone- she tended to call him Gojo Satoru just to spite him- but hearing it now, spoken in such a small but genuine voice, it has him giving in and looking over at her so quickly it’s almost embarrassing to give her such a noticeable reaction. His eyes are wide and his mouth is snapped shut, worried it’d go completely dry if he left it open.

Gojo Satoru is fairly certain he’s never experienced what falling in love felt like, but he’d never tried to seek it out, either. He was content with his life, he felt as though he checked all the right boxes, with being born the strongest sorcerer, having the greatest friends in the world, he’d never really considered what having more would look like.

Right now, it looked like (y/e/c) eyes and a shy smile.

As suspected, his mouth goes dry when he opens it.

“You’re… welcome” He answers slowly, and it’s a bit awkward but (y/n) doesn’t point it out. She simply leans back on her arms again and turns her attention back towards the stars.

In a few minutes she’d strike up conversation again and they’d spend the rest of their night chatting aimlessly about nothing special in particular, but neither one wanted to be the first to alert the other of the time. So they’d sit there until the sunrise would peek over the horizon, and slowly, but eventually, they’d sneak back into the building with tired goodbyes and plans to meet up with their friends during lunch like they always did.

Everything was exactly as it always was. But it was undeniably different.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru scoffs when Shoko tells him about a party she’d been invited to by a non-sorcerer she and (y/n) ran into while in town. A non-sorcerer party sounds like the perfect way to waste an evening. Although he won’t admit he feels relief that neither one of them actually planned on going, and he knows that (y/n) already tucked herself in her room for the night.

She’s probably studying, he thinks to himself fondly. It was a friday night, sure, she should be doing something fun with her evening, but he’d much rather have her here than out doing who knows what at some lame party.

“He was cute too, can’t believe she turned him down,”

That little comment had him snapping back into conversation- he might’ve tuned Shoko out a bit when she started going on about the cashier giving her a hard time over her less-than-authentic ID for her smokes- but now all of his senses were tuned back into what she was saying.

Shoko rolls her eyes when his head swivels at super human speed. She’s not offended that he’d so clearly been ignoring her, not when it’s so amusing that she brought him back to earth the only way she knew how- by praying on his jealousy and pride. Oldest trick in the book, she smirked to herself. She and Suguru had mastered this trick ages ago.

“Wonder why she’d do such a thing” She mutters in mock curiosity, before pulling out her new pack of cigarettes and sticking one between her lips. Satoru narrows his eyes at her, picking up on the lack of subtlety. It wasn’t often that he did so.

“You’re blaming me for (y/n) not being interested in some random non-sorcerer?” He laughs humorlessly at the notion, and Shoko mirrors it with a laugh of absolute humor.

“She’s your most favorite Special Grade, isn’t she?” She muses, plucking the cigarette from her lips to exhale the smoke in her lungs before she presses him again. “If it weren’t for you, she’d be out living her life for once”

“You’re acting like I keep her from doing anything-”

“I’m not,” Shoko shrugs, her expression turning bored. “I was actually trying to insinuate that she’d rather hang around here getting in trouble with you than doing, I don’t know, normal things. Like parties. And… other things that happen at parties” She finishes with a smirk before she sticks the cigarette back in her mouth to puff some more.

Satoru flusters, not having a quick witted comment to come back at her with. His silence is just as damning, however, and Shoko begins to laugh again, plumes of smoke puffing out as she does so.

“She’s probably never even been to a party,” She says, as if talking to herself, but Satoru’s well aware that she’s just luring him into her trap.

Now, he’s not completely sure what that trap is, some sort of admission of guilt he assumes, but for what?

“She’d probably love the scene. Dancing, mingling. Non-sorcerers would love her for sure. She could do her whole ‘there is no god, only I control your fate’ thing, they’d eat that up”

“She said that one time-”

“Yeah, and it was badass,” Shoko cuts him off. “I got chills and I wasn’t even there,” She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket then, chuckling when she finds the little hairs on her arms standing up. “See? Chills”

Satoru swats her arm out of his face when she shoves it in front of him.

“What are you getting at? Are you asking me to take her? I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers whose collective idea of a good time is alcohol poisoning and shitty music”

“Harsh, Satoru, who’s got your panties in a bunch?”

He could teleport away right now, before Suguru even completely approaches the two of them, but isn’t it all the more damning if he turns and runs? He doesn’t make a decision before Suguru has joined them at their usual table in the courtyard. Shoko’s passing him a cigarette without any words exchanged.

“Guess” She speaks in monotone as she hands him her lighter.

“I’m leaving” Satoru finally decides, stuffing his hands in his pockets, surely about to stomp away. The other two snicker between one another.

“Awe c’mon, don’t be like that, Satoru” Suguru calls, but he doesn’t try to chase down his sulking friend.

“When ya get to (y/n’s) can you remind her she still has my spare jacket?” Shoko hollers, which is followed by the sound of her and Suguru bursting into a fit of laughter.

Satoru warps with a huff before they could continue obnoxiously yelling at his back. He barely wipes the scowl off his face before he’s knocking on the door he reappears at.

“It’s open!” Is called from inside, but he’s still cautious when he slides it open.

(y/n’s) at her desk, one earbud in her ear and one hanging in front of her. She’s surrounded by piles of books and papers, not to mention the highlighter in her hand and the pen tucked above her ear. She’d clearly been busy with her studies, but when she looks up to see who her visitor was, she picks up her iPod Shuffle and hits pause before she plucks the other bud out of her ear.

“What a surprise,” She greets him with a warm smile. “To see you actually using the door, that is,”

That cracks a smile on his unusually sour face, and (y/n) leans back in her chair, already forgetting the work in front of her as she takes him in. Her arms cross over her chest as her brow furrows just a little bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something has to be wrong for me to stop by?” He asks, leaning back into the doorway. “Can’t I just be a good friend and come say hi?”

She raises a brow at him.

“Hi” She says with a smile too sweet to be real, or at least he thinks.

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his own smile is more genuine than he’d like to admit.

“Hi,” He replies. (y/n) smiles a little wider. “Is this really your plan for the night?” He asks, wagging his finger in a circular motion at the pile of work she had before her.

“It was,” She claims. “But I have this odd feeling… like you’re about to drag me off…?” She can barely contain her delight, even as she presses her finger against her pursed lips in mock curiosity.

“Take you away from your studies? Who do you think I am, Special Grade? A bad influence?”

“And apparently a mind reader, too” She quips.

“Well… do you want me to drag you out of here or not?”

It’s only a dizzy spell from Satoru’s warping later that they find themselves in the middle of a neighborhood, in front of a house she doesn’t recognize. Needless to say, it was not a usual spot for them.

“A house party?” (y/n) furrows her brows at him, before glancing down at herself. She’d ditched her uniform jacket at least, but she was still in black slacks and her white tee shirt. “You couldn’t have told me to wear something different?”

Satoru frowns, before mirroring her actions. In the same pants and a black tee shirt himself, he takes offense to her insinuation.

“You don’t think I make this look good?” He pouts.

“I think we look like we’re in costumes- what are we doing here, anyways?” She asks.

“Shoko told me about it,” He says, before taking a step towards the house. “C’mon let’s go in”

Begrudgingly, she follows him, even though she’s still completely unsure of the whole thing.

“This is really what you wanted to do?” She asks, and Satoru doesn’t miss the way she stiffens when he lets himself into the house without even a knock. She supposes knocking or ringing the doorbell would have been pointless, seeing as the music playing inside was so loud the bass could be heard from the front yard, but it unsettles her nonetheless.

No, he thinks.

But what he says is; “Why not?” with that big dumb grin of his that tells her she should keep her guard up tonight.

It’s strange that she can trust him with her life while simultaneously not trusting him in the slightest at this moment.

The house party is picture perfect, captured like every movie scene depicting a house party ever. Countless bodies inhabiting the open living room, the staircase, and the few hallways she could see just from stepping through the door. It seems everyone’s either holding a plastic cup, a beer bottle, a cigarette, or some combination of the three. When they take a few steps in and she doesn’t feel any weird stares, her stomach starts to settle, but the voice in the back of her mind still whines that she should’ve at least changed into a pair of jeans.

Satoru’s not taking any of it in- at all. Despite his Six Eyes, he hardly notices the bustling of dancing bodies, or bodies trying to push through the crowd. The music is at just the right volume to ring in his ears in a way that will ache tomorrow, but he doesn’t register the melody enough to identify the song, and he doesn’t try, either. He’s far more charmed by the way (y/n) takes it all in with complete enamourment and intrigue than he could be by the scene itself.

The scene itself was unimpressive. A loud, smoky atmosphere that had his skin crawling before even attempting to walk through the crowd of people made him want to wince. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as he could, not wanting to take away from (y/n’s) experience, but when his eyes surveyed the place, they squinted with disgust. It was even starting to smell.

“What first, hm?” He turned towards her in an attempt to block out the setting they found themselves in. If only he could turn off his Six Eyes and tunnel vision completely on her. “Body shots? Dancing?”

(y/n) scoffs, but a humored smile curls on her lips as she meets his gaze.

“How about just a drink?”

“A shot?”

“One beer”

His grin twitches, before he gives her a nod and takes off into the crowd that had his Infinity flickering on instantaneously. Satoru’s got his sights set straight on the kitchen, it seems a little less crowded in there, and the array of coolers and bottles on the counter was the most appealing thing about this place.

(y/n) let her eyes wander every person they passed, taking in everything she could. Every smile, every laugh, every outfit and anything else there was to take note of. A few people noticed her curious staring, some waved, some seemed indifferent, some stared back, but nothing captured her attention quicker than Satoru tapping her on the shoulder once they’d reached the kitchen. He’s already holding a bottle out to her, and she takes it with a quiet thank you.

He takes it back from her moments later when she tries to unscrew the bottle cap. The grin she knows to be cautious of returns as he points a finger at it, thumb outstretched, and with a quiet zap the cap flies off. Surprisingly, he doesn’t completely shatter the bottle with his abundance of cursed energy, but the bottle cap does go flying, and they hear a distant ‘ow!’.

“I could’ve found a bottle opener” (y/n) tells him, but he knows she was at least a little bit impressed by his finite control over his technique.

“But ya already got one,” He quips with pride. She stifles her laugh by raising the bottle to her lips, taking a few long drinks. Satoru’s eyebrows almost raise to his hairline, a shocked laugh belting out of him when she finishes.

“I figured you’ve never had a drop to drink before” He says when she gives him a confused look.

“I haven’t” She confirms. Satoru keeps his mouth shut after that.

They spend a few hours at the house party, to both of their surprise. There’s some mingling, (y/n) seemed to enjoy meeting new people, and drunk people seemed to enjoy flocking to her. Girls thought her attire was badass, guys liked talking to a girl that talked back- at least until Satoru’s face would screw up enough that they’d leave. Other than a few offers of phone numbers, he couldn’t say he hated the whole party setting.

But his acceptance of the whole ordeal might have had less to do with the party being fun and more to do with the company he kept for the night. As much as (y/n) moved about to enjoy every aspect of the simple party, she had a habit of sticking as close to his side as possible. If she was walking away, her hand was latching onto his, or his elbow, to keep him moving with her. If they were surrounded in a tightly packed space, she was glued to his side, tucked under her arm and pressed against him from torso to leg. Satoru deducted that he’d never show up to one of these things alone, but if she asked him? Hell, he might agree without thinking twice.

“Hear me out- hear me out!” She doesn’t need to tell him twice, but she shouts when she repeats herself just to be sure that Satoru can hear her clearly. “I think we should throw our- our own party, back at- back at home”

It’s cute that she calls it home, he thinks. Logically, he knows it’s because she’s never really had a solid place to land before Yaga scouted her and took her in, but it still has a way of making his heart flutter with the idea of her involving him in her idea of home.

They’ve taken a break from chatting with strangers, to Satoru’s relief, and right now he had her attention all to himself. They were currently wallflowering in a corner between the hallway and the living room, a water bottle being passed between them, although he tried to keep it more in her hands than his, considering she out drank him rather quickly.

“I dunno, Suguru and Shoko aren’t really party animals,” He replies, earning a bubbly giggle from her, which he takes to mean she agrees. “I think you might just be enjoying yourself too much”

“No such thing,” She argues with a definitive shake of her head. “And don’t lie, you’re having fun, too!”

She’s shouting a bit again, and Satoru laughs. Shoko and Suguru wouldn’t believe him later when he tells them about how cute she was when she was tipsy and talkative. Oh well, he’d have to enjoy it for himself first hand. He already couldn’t get enough of it, of her eager attention. He’s so wrapped up in it he’s been leaning closer and closer each time she speaks. Until he’s practically hanging onto the corner of the wall, pressing closer to the side she’d been leaning against.

“I wouldn’t attribute that to this party” He scoffs, almost rudely as he glances at the remaining people.

There’s a couple making out on the couch, a circle forming at the bottom of the stairs with a bong being slowly passed around, a few people are passed out on open furniture, at least one person sleeping on the floor- and he can only imagine what’s going on upstairs.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are already focused on his. Round and full of pure delight, as if this had been the greatest night of her life. Satoru pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing the slight squint in his gaze. (y/n) tilts her head curiously when she catches the furrow forming in his brows, too.

“What?” She asks him, still studying his puzzled expression. It’s a bit difficult, with his pretty eyes on display, her mind was a little one track at the moment and it was hard to focus on anything other than the perfect cerulean oceans.

“How come you never went out ‘n did this stuff before moving here?”

Her shoulders rise and fall unceremoniously.

“I guess cause no one ever dragged me into doing them. Teleporters were in short supply, too” She laughs at her own joke, and Satoru cracks a smile, reveling in her amusement.

“Well aren’t you in luck, then,” He hums, and he admits his insides are starting to feel doughy when he’s the object her soft gaze is so set on, and it’s probably about time to convince her to head home, but that would mean ruining her fun, and he can’t bring himself to do so just yet. “Did you get to have all the synthetically produced fun you wanted?” He teases, and she shrugs again, but this time the motion is gentler, more careful.

“I had a good time with you,” The reply is genuine, making it all the more hard hitting to his heart. Even his Infinity couldn’t protect him from that. Her eyes finally tear away from his, only to glance over the dwindling crowd of drunken bodies. “You sort of scared off all my kiss options though”

“Kiss options?” He repeats with a laugh, taking her comment for a joke. When she looks up at him again, he can tell in her deluded, drunken mind, she’d been absolutely serious. “You’re joking. You wanted to kiss one of these clowns?” He clicks his tongue in displeasure, but her expression doesn’t waver.

“It’s a bit late for it now. But I figured it was as good a time as any to get it out of the way,” She says, in that light but serious tone again, and now Satoru feels his heart dropping. “Oh well,” She sighs, leaning further into the wall, until her head rested against it. “Another time…”

“What, it’s on your bucket list to kiss some rando?” He teases half-heartedly.

Had she been trying to make a move on someone all night? Now Satoru’s mind was racing with thoughts that made his stomach twist into knots. Had he misread their entire evening? Had she been trying to ditch him? Was he the one clinging to her? Well, he’d clung a little bit, but it felt natural to wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close! His heart started hammering in his chest as the nasty feeling in his gut began to climb up his throat.

“No,” She says, laughing under her breath at the idea. “Just wanted to get the first one over with”

Gojo’s eyes widen almost comically, before he leans in and drops his voice to a whisper, as if to spare her any embarrassment.

“As in first kiss?” He mutters, eyes darting around just to be sure no one else could hear. (y/n’s) laughter bubbles at his dramatic display, and takes no offense to it at all, simply nodding her head.

“Yeah, as in first kiss,” She repeats with the same secretive act, before laughing again. “Don’t act all surprised now”

“Baby, I’m not acting,” The pet name falls off his tongue sarcastically, but he can’t deny it feels a bit too natural. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Nope” She pops her lips and shakes her head.

“And of all places you wanted to kiss someone here?” He asks, his lips curling into a grimace as he recalled the candidates from earlier. The pickings weren’t exactly ripe.

“It was just a kiss,” She rolls her eyes at his reaction. “I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, Satoru, I just wanted to know what it was like. Figured it might come up organically in a party setting”

Satoru sticks his tongue out and gags.

“Absolutely not. Why didn’t you just say somethin’? I would’ve kissed ya”

“That doesn’t count” She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes back at her.

“And why not?” He asks, clearly offended. “I’ll have you know I’m a great kisser!”

“Oh yeah? Your hand told you so?” (y/n) snickers, and Satoru’s pout noticeably worsens. “I don’t want a pity kiss, I want a real kiss. Y’know, so I can be good at it before it… really matters”

“It would be a real kiss, dummy, what difference does it make?” He’s not following her logic, and he can’t tell if it’s drunk (y/n) logic or if this had been on her mind all night.

She blinks at him, the humor in her features fading away the longer he stares back at her and she begins to realize he’s being serious. Her brows twitch, and her mouth opens but no words come out. What was she supposed to say? Yes, kiss me now!? It felt awkward to suddenly rush into it and accept his offer. But she also didn’t want to let the moment pass and regret it later.

“It won’t be weird,” Satoru purses his lips and shakes his head with as much nonchalance as he can muster. It’s as though he’s reading her mind, and the thought of taking him up on it makes her face feel warm. “Besides, I would be a bad friend letting you have a bad first kiss with some non-sorcerer that doesn’t know what he’s doing”

“You’d feel bad?” A small laugh escapes her as she teases him, tilting her chin up at him. Satoru nods his head from side to side with uncertain confirmation. “Okay then”

“Okay?” He repeats.

“Yeah”

“You’ll let me?”

It’s an odd way of phrasing it, she’ll let him kiss her, as if he was the one seeking it out in the first place. However Satoru was simply doing her a favor, wasn’t he? Helping her get the first one out of the way. He’d much rather he do it himself than let any of the idiots she met tonight get the chance. But that’s just because they weren’t worthy like he was, and that was a fair assessment, wasn’t it?

He swallows the lump in his throat with only a little difficulty before she nods back at him and gives him a hum of approval. She’ll actually let him.

When he doesn’t make a move, she tilts her head at him in confusion.

“Well?”

“Well come on,” He beckons her, before taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the wall they’d been hugging for the better part of an hour. “Can’t have it be in some stranger’s house, might as well get a better view than that, yeah?”

He grins at her as he half guides and half drags her outside. She’s a little lost on his logic, because it was just a kiss wasn’t it? Did the setting really matter? Although once they’re outside she has to admit the moon’s luminescence did provide a nicer atmosphere. A smile graces her face as she admires the sky, until Satoru stops them.

“Here’s good,” He decides, grinning back at her. “Got a speech planned? Anyone you want to thank?”

“Well, I never thought I’d make it this far,” She giggles as she goes along with the bit. “I suppose at the end of it all I only have myself to thank, really-”

“Ahem”

“Oh, and of course Gojo Satoru, for the wonderful opportunity,” She corrects, barely containing her laughter through her made-up speech. Satoru brightens, grinning from ear to ear at her delight. “I think that’s all I got”

He chuckles, before taking a step forward and closing the already small distance between them. Her breath hitches in her throat as reality sets in. She didn’t really think about actually kissing Satoru until he was close enough that his cologne wafted past her nose, and her eyes naturally fell to the pink curve of his lips.

“I’m not kissin’ you with your eyes open,” He laughs breathlessly, and her eyes briefly flicker up to his before she lets them shut. The heat in her face begins to spread down her neck as she holds her breath. “You need me to count down?” He asks, and he’s only partially joking.

“Just kiss me, ‘toru-”

He doesn’t need further assurance beyond her impatient little whine, so in one motion he slides hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead just as he dipped his head to meet her lips with his.

She’s frozen at first, unmoving under his soft mouth prodding against hers, but he expected as much. After two seconds, she slowly and carefully kisses him back, still nervous she’d do something wrong.

Her hands are planted firmly at her sides, and her eyes are squeezed shut, but she still cherishes every second of the simple kiss. How sweet his lips taste, how warm and welcoming they are, how much she’d like to stand there and kiss him for a few minutes more…

When she pulls away to catch her breath that she’d been holding in for far too long, Satoru’s hand lingers at the nape of her neck. His fingers twitch, indecisive in what to do next.

Kissing her again wasn’t the right move… was it?

“Thank you,” She tells him softly, her blush prominent on her face even in the dark. “Should we get going now?”

He could almost laugh at how quickly she moved on if it didn’t sting a little. He hides it behind a smile as he nods his head in agreement, getting ready to warp them back home.

“You could’ve thanked my hand in your speech too” He teases as she wraps her arms round one of his, mentally preparing for the dizzying effect of teleportation.

“Shut up” She giggles back before they disappear from the scene.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru’s never turned down (y/n’s) company. He’s never wanted her to be away from him, and he’d never ask her to, either. There was no one whose presence he delighted in more than hers- and he was starting to really come to terms with what that meant.

“You should go to bed,” He tells her, for the third time tonight.

There was no reason for him to stay up on guard with him. He had surveillance covered while Suguru and Riko slept. There was no sense in (y/n) staying up all night and wasting away her energy. Not when she’d already done so last night, despite his protests then, too.

She’s sitting on the other end of the sofa, a small carton of ice cream in her hands that she was poking around in, trying to scoop out all of the brownie bits first. She looks like she hadn’t even heard him, but Satoru’s not falling for it.

“Seriously, (y/n), you need rest” He sighs, hoping tonight he’d get through to her.

She hums thoughtfully, her eyes focused on her snack, and Satoru throws his head back against the couch cushion in defeat.

“We could put a movie on, good way to pass time,” She suggests, completely ignoring his request. “I’ll even let you pick” She adds, shooting him a warm smile.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?” Satoru frowns when he turns his head to look at her. Her smile remains as she shakes her head.

“Nope,” She murmurs sweetly. “So you might as well pick something to watch”

She’d pulled this last night, too. Convincing him to hang out at the beach all night, swimming and stargazing. He adored her company, he really did, but she hadn’t slept a wink yesterday, and he couldn’t put her through 48 straight hours without it.

He knows she’s exhausted, her eyes were dull, and starting to get puffy from lack of rest. She did her best keeping up an energetic attitude, especially during the day when Suguru and Riko had still been awake, she’d fooled them almost too easily. But Satoru knew better. He knew her better.

“If I put a movie on will you at least lay down?”

Her eyes narrow at him, before she lowers her ice cream to her lap.

“Are you trying to trick me into falling asleep, Satoru?”

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not going to go delirious because you’re not sleeping a normal human amount-” He tries to argue but she interrupts him.

“You haven’t slept either, hypocrite,” She mutters the last part. “I’m resting enough just sitting around for the night, aren’t I?”

“No-”

“Pick the damn movie, Satoru”

He huffs, but for some reason he finds himself putting a random disc in the dvd player before he falls onto the sofa again. (y/n) remains at her end, slowly picking at her ice cream while the movie starts. Satoru doesn’t have the energy to argue with her- literally, he’s starting to get tired keeping his Infinity up like this- so he sits in silence and watches the tv. All he can do now is hope that she’ll get tired over time and maybe just pass out. She couldn’t keep it up forever, could she?

Two more movies later, Satoru worries he’d grossly underestimated her. It had been almost six hours- it was nearing four in the morning- and she still reluctantly had her eyes glued to the tv. He’d tried a few more times to convince her, but all he’d managed was to get her to share a blanket with him.

It hadn’t been enough. She settled under the fluffy blanket, right up against his side, and still it wasn’t enough coziness to lure her into sleep. He had to give her some credit for her stubbornness, that was for sure.

Around the 4:30 mark, he feels a weight pressing into his shoulder- well, against the Infinity, and he’s filled with so much hope he almost drops the barrier just to fully enjoy the feeling of her sleeping against him.

Then she alerts him that she’s still awake by speaking.

“Satoru,” It’s soft, so faint that he holds onto hope that she could still drift off. “If I do fall asleep, you’ll wake me up, won’t you?”

He chuckles, before sliding his arm around her back, making sure to tuck the blanket up to her shoulder before he settles his arm there, keeping her tucked in against him. He tells himself that this is all to make sure she’ll get some sleep- against her will or not- and that it had nothing to do with how his heart felt full when she snuggled a little deeper into his hold.

“You know I’m not gonna, Special Grade,” He murmurs back. She grumbles something inaudible, but he assumes it has something to do with the heavier droop of her head.

After a few minutes, he raises his hand from her shoulder, and slowly presses his fingers against her temple, easing her into a more comfortable position, until eventually he feels her slump completely as she gives in.

He lets their movie keep on rolling once she’s finally asleep against him, it at least held his attention enough to keep him awake. The hammering of his heart in his chest might’ve also kept his adrenaline kicking for long enough that it wouldn’t have mattered, though.

The following day, (y/n) gives him a few icy glares, just to remind him that she didn’t appreciate his cruel trick. Riko and Suguru share a few awkward glances as the two half fight and half joke about the whole thing. They try to remove themselves from the pair’s bantering as much as they can, unable to stand the levels of chemistry they carried into every room.

“Seriously Satoru, it’s going to make me sick,” Suguru mutters to his friend at one point, while (y/n) and Riko are busy wandering the shore for seashells, or something. “Make a move or don’t, but you’re driving the rest of us mad”

Satoru laughs, his eyes squinting against the sun even with his shades on. It was getting exhausting keeping them open, the amount of cursed energy it took to keep up Infinity and his Six Eyes had been giving him headaches all day, but he did his best to hide it.

“You’re just jealous that she likes me more” He says, even though Suguru doesn’t care in the slightest, and he even rolls his eyes to drive that point home.

“Well she’s not gonna like you forever if you keep up this dumb game,” He argues. “What kind of friends kiss and then don’t do anything about it?”

“I told you that in confidence” Satoru whines.

“You told me in the middle of the night right after it happened,” Suguru reminds him in a plain tone of voice. “Seriously, we all know she has feelings for you, so stop being a coward”

“Not a coward,’ Satoru mumbles, kicking at the sand. “We’re just… sorta in the middle of something here?” He tries to blame it on the assignment, but Suguru gives him a blank look.

“We’re at the beach,” He mutters. “She’s been staying up with you, too, so do it then, after the rest of us have gone to sleep” He points a finger at him for the last part, making sure it was crystal clear.

“I don’t know. Maybe” Satoru huffs, and starts to walk away before Suguru could drag the conversation on any longer.

He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening mulling it over. He’d known how he felt about her for quite some time now, before he’d even kissed her. The kiss was just the solidification that his feelings were real, and not some romanticized imagination his mind had drawn up. But he’d never felt love before, and he had no clue how to go about professing it.

He’s antsy when he and (y/n) find themselves on the beach again that night, long past sunset, long past when everyone else had gone to bed. They’re both seated on a towel to keep their clothes clear of sand, but with their feet digging into the soft grains it didn’t matter, the towel became a mess anyways.

“I don’t want you to stay up too late again,” He tells her, although it feels useless. “It’s just not good for you,” He looks over at her, taking in the darker circles under her eyes, the paleness in her features even after spending the day in the sun. “And it’s not worth it”

She gives him a bittersweet smile, her head tilting just slightly as she regards his worry.

“It is worth it,” She replies quietly. “I don’t want you to be alone out here,” She tells him, watching the way his expression falters and softens. “It’s just not good for you” She mimics him with a laugh for good measure, and he barely cracks a smile, but his worry is still evident.

“Well, when this assignment is over, can you promise to sleep for three days straight to make up for it?” He asks, and she thinks it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.

“I suppose,” She answers. “As long as you do, too,” She adds quickly, “Fair is fair”

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his smile is a little more genuine this time.

“Alright then, 72 hours of sleep it is,” He gives in. “But I’m holding you to that promise”

“I don’t break promises,” She tells him confidently, before a quietness settles between them again. Her gaze lingers on the low tide rolling in as she lets her mind wander, and before she knows it, she’s speaking up again. “I know you don’t think you need anyone looking out for you, Satoru,”

He looks at her right away, tired eyes widening at the sudden seriousness in her tone. She’s still watching the tide, completely captured by it, but he can tell she’s holding in more.

“But I… I worry about you,” She admits, dropping her head to stare at her lap. “I don’t want you to take on more than you can handle, I… I don’t want them to take advantage of you anymore,”

She swallows the lump in her throat before finally working up the courage to look over at him.

“I know that you’re the strongest, and it’s gonna happen but… but I can’t help this feeling like… I’m here too, you know? I can take things on too, assignments, or… this,” She gives him a weak smile, hoping he understands that her sentiment comes from a good place. “I care about you, you know?” She finishes in a whisper.

Satoru’s eyes shift in between hers as he takes it in. How ironic, that every reason she has for putting herself through hours without rest, were the exact reasons that he wanted her to get rest. The corner of his lips tugs into a small smile as he takes her in now, completely.

Her exhaustion is evident, but with the way she’s looking at him now, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

In an act of complete selfish desire, he leans over the space between them and plants his lips on hers. Her eyes widen at first, alarmed by the sudden kiss, and the fact that he’s dropped his Infinity in order to touch her at all, but as soon as the shock starts to wear off her eyes fall shut and she’s kissing him back with all the fervor that she wished she had the first time.

It’s another pleasant surprise when she reaches out and finds her fingertips bumping into his cheekbones, before her entire hands up his warm face and she’s pulling him closer to her, kissing him again- and then again some more.

Satoru’s balance is thrown off from the way he leans against her, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed when he wraps his arms around the dip in her back and pulls her closer to him. She obliges with a soft sigh panted against his lips before they’re colliding again.

For all the passion he pours into it- for every ounce of need and impatience he feels, he kisses her slowly, each one lingering a little longer than the last, just to be sure he commits every detail of it to his memory, where it could be preserved in his perfection forever.

He doesn’t let go of her when they finally pull apart, and she doesn’t pull her hands away from his face, either. They keep each other close, as close as they can while still catching their breath.

Her eyes are wide when they meet his, confused and ecstatic all in one sweet expression that Satoru wants to add to his collection of memories. He smiles at her as his eyes wander her face leisurely.

“What was that for?” She murmurs, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the delicate curve of his cheekbone with nothing but fondness in her touch.

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over her lips.

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because,”

His voice is a mere murmur, and for a moment she thinks that might be his entire answer. She wouldn’t put it past him, but there’s a look in his eyes that resembles longing, and she knows there must be more.

“I love you too”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes // i'm your national anthem ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: i actually had a super rad cursed technique planned for reader but ended up not writing any scenes where she's using it so u WILL see it come up in another fic sometime

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

1K notes · View notes

saturnsag3 · 29 days ago

Text

Always and Forever — will smith x macklins celebrini

summary: a series of surprises and a sickeningly sweet ending

wc: 3,222

The first clue should’ve been the coffee.

Macklin woke up to the smell of cinnamon and vanilla—his favorite latte from the little café two blocks away. Will stood at the foot of the bed with a tray, grinning sheepishly like he hadn’t just walked five minutes in wind to make Mack’s morning perfect.

“I thought you deserved breakfast in bed,” he said, nudging the tray forward. “I also might’ve stolen the last almond croissant, so if a woman named Marlene tries to fight me later, that’s why.”

Mack blinked at him, bleary-eyed. “What’s the occasion?”

Will only shrugged. “Just felt like spoiling you.”

That wasn’t unusual—Will had always been sweet like that, sentimental in the quietest ways—but there was something extra in the way he looked at Mack that morning. Like he was holding a secret behind his smile.

Still, Mack didn’t press. He sat up, took the coffee, and let Will tuck himself under the covers beside him while they shared breakfast and watched Jersey Shore on Will’s phone. It felt easy. Warm.

Uncomplicated love.

The second clue came a few hours later, when Will handed Mack a shopping bag with neatly folded clothes and said, “Put this on. I’m stealing you for the day.”

Mack pulled out a soft blue sweater and some new jeans. “What are we doing?”

Will leaned against the doorframe, looking infuriatingly smug. “You’ll see.”

—

First stop: the boardwalk.

Will took him to the pier where they used to go in college—back when they were still just best friends who flirted like idiots. The arcade was still there, barely functioning, and Will handed Mack a roll of quarters with a wink.

“Loser buys lunch.”

“You mean I let you win and you buy lunch anyway?” Mack grinned, already lining up his first shot at skeeball.

They played until their fingers were sticky from cotton candy and Mack had a giant stuffed otter under his arm because Will somehow convinced the guy at the ring toss to let him trade in a consolation prize for him.

Mack held the thing up with a squint. “This is bribery.”

“It’s romance,” Will said, smug. “Pure, unfiltered romance.”

“It’s lopsided.”

“It’s symbolic.“

Mack snorted, but he held the otter tight anyway. They drifted from machine to machine, Will pausing every few minutes to slip more quarters into Mack’s hand like they were on borrowed time. They raced on old motorcycles with busted screens, got into an embarrassingly competitive game of air hockey that ended in Will diving theatrically after the puck, and spent way too long at the claw machine that only ever spat out plastic frogs.

At one point, Will leaned in close behind Mack at the coin pusher, chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped lazily around his waist like they had nowhere else in the world to be. “You know,” he murmured, “we’re way too grown to be here.”

Mack smiled, bumping their heads together. “And yet you brought me here.”

“Because you get this dumb look on your face when you’re winning at basketball,” Will said, gently thumping his shoulder. “Like you’re six again and you just found out cake exists.”

“I am winning.”

“You’re not.”

“I beat your score by twelve.”

“You cheated.”

Mack grinned. “You’re just mad I have better aim.”

Will caught his hand then—sudden, but soft—and pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles. “I just love seeing you happy.”

Mack blinked at him, caught off guard. “That’s corny.”

“I know.”

“I like it.”

Will’s smile was a little crooked then, like he was holding something back. But Mack didn’t notice, too busy dragging him toward the photo booth tucked in the corner by the candy counter.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s document your loss.”

Inside, Mack pulled goofy faces while Will tried to look serious, only breaking into laughter when Mack licked his cheek during the last shot. The strip printed out a minute later—blurred, chaotic, perfect.

Will tucked it into his wallet.

Mack didn’t see the way his fingers lingered over the photo.

—

Lunch was a quiet picnic in the park. Will had packed everything—fruit, sandwiches, cookies from Mack’s favorite bakery. They sprawled out on a blanket under a tree, watching a kid try (and fail) to fly a kite.

“You’re like, unreasonably good at today,” Mack said, popping a grape into his mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”

Will leaned back on his elbows, watching him. “Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m just… happy.”

Mack rolled his eyes. “Gross.”

Will laughed. “Get used to it.”

—

By late afternoon, Will had guided Mack to a little downtown boutique spa.

Mack blinked at the receptionist. “Wait. What are we doing here?”

Will grinned. “Couples massage. I booked it weeks ago. Shut up and let me pamper you.”

Mack stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “Did you mess up something and this is you trying to apologize in advance?”

Will laughed, genuinely. “No. But I am asking you to get naked and let a stranger rub your back, so you better enjoy it.”

Mack only grumbled a little, but by the end of it, he was so relaxed he almost fell asleep in the car. Will didn’t say much on the drive home—just played soft music, humming now and then, his thumb brushing over Mack’s knuckles as they held hands between the seats.

—

Back home, there was another surprise. Laid out on the bed were new clothes: a soft black dress shirt, pressed slacks, and polished shoes. Will was already half-dressed, fiddling with his cufflinks, clearly nervous.

“Dinner,” he said simply.

Mack stared. “Are you taking me to a gala? Are we meeting the president?”

“Nope.” Will smiled. “Just somewhere nice.”

By the time they arrived at the restaurant—a rooftop bistro with fairy lights strung across wooden beams and ivy curling around the railings—Mack was thoroughly overwhelmed.

Their table was tucked in a corner overlooking the city, candlelight flickering between them as they ordered wine and small plates and shared bites across the table.

“You look incredible,” Will said at one point, completely unprompted.

Mack smirked. “Is this all because I folded your laundry this week?”

Will raised his glass. “Maybe. Also maybe because I’m in love with you.”

“You sap.”

“You knew what you signed up for.”

Mack laughed softly, shaking his head as he swirled the wine in his glass. The candlelight danced across Will’s face, catching on the gold in his eyes, and there was something different in the way he was looking at Mack now—like he was seeing every version of him at once. Past, present, maybe even future.

The food came in waves—crisp bruschetta, buttery scallops, some kind of ravioli that Mack immediately claimed as his. Will let him eat most of it, content to watch, to listen. The kind of dinner that stretched, lazily, into the night.

At one point, a small string quartet began playing on the opposite side of the rooftop. Mack turned, blinking. “Okay, that’s definitely not a coincidence.”

Will took a slow sip of wine, suspiciously casual. “It’s Friday. People hire string quartets on Fridays.”

Mack narrowed his eyes. “You hate live music during dinner.”

“I hate bad live music during dinner. These guys are great.”

Mack’s brow furrowed. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m acting like a man who is extremely in love and enjoying his overpriced scallops.”

“Mmhm,” Mack said, unconvinced, but he let it go.

They lingered over dessert—chocolate soufflé with two spoons. Mack didn’t question why it had come with a sparkler in it, though he did give Will a long, suspicious look that Will very nobly ignored.

By the time they left the restaurant, the sun had slipped fully behind the skyline, and the city was awash in pinks and purples fading into navy. The air was warm but breezy, perfect for a walk. And Will, ever the gentleman, took Mack’s hand and said:

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

Will just smiled. “You’ll see.”

They walked for a while, hands clasped together, shoulders bumping. Mack kept glancing sideways, trying to read Will’s expression, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Every so often he’d squeeze Mack’s hand tighter or kiss the top of it gently, murmuring little things like, “You doing okay?” and “You warm enough?” and “You look really beautiful tonight.”

It was… a lot. But the good kind of a lot.

Eventually, they turned off the sidewalk onto a path lined with trees, strung with paper lanterns. It was familiar. Mack recognized the park—it was the one where Will used to bring him after long shifts when they were still just friends, back when everything was complicated and simple all at once.

Mack’s heart started to pick up, fluttering in his chest. “Wait, why are we—”

Will said nothing. Just walked.

And then they reached it.

A clearing.

Candles everywhere—hundreds, maybe more—lined the path and circled the center of the space. Rose petals scattered across the ground, glowing faintly in the light. A single string of lights hung from tree to tree above, casting everything in soft, golden warmth. There was no one else around. Just the two of them.

Mack stopped in his tracks.

“Will—Will, that’s—” He pointed, heart hammering. “That’s not ours. What are you doing?”

Will just kept walking, tugging gently at Mack’s hand.

“Will,” Mack hissed, eyes wide. “This is someone else’s setup, we’re crashing their—oh my god—are you kidding? This is like straight out of movie or something jesus—“

Will turned to face him fully then, holding both of Mack’s hands.

“It’s not someone else’s,” he said quietly.

Mack froze. “What?”

“It’s not someone else’s,” Will repeated, and his voice shook just a little, though his hands were steady. “It’s ours.”

Mack’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Will took a step closer. “I’ve been thinking about this day for years. I’ve played it out in my head a thousand different ways, but none of them came close to this. To you. Standing here, looking at me like that.”

Mack blinked, eyes already shining.

“I fell in love with you before I even knew what to call it,” Will continued. “It was stupid stuff at first. The way you chewed on pens when you were anxious. How you’d steal my hoodies and pretend like you didn’t. How you’d sit next to me on the couch and slowly inch closer until we were basically on top of each other.”

Mack let out a watery laugh.

“I knew then,” Will said, eyes never leaving his. “And I’ve known every day since. Even on the hard ones. Especially on the hard ones.”

Mack’s throat was tight now, his fingers trembling in Will’s.

“I love you when you’re soft and sleepy. I love you when you’re bratty and grumpy— and petty,” he added which made Mack giggle again. “And how oh-so dramatic you are about losing at Fortnite. I love you when you’re scared. When you’re brave. When you’re too proud to ask for help but do it anyway.”

Will took a breath. A deep one.

“I love you for every reason and no reason at all. I love you because there’s no one else who has ever felt like home to me the way you do.”

And then, slowly, Will dropped to one knee.

Mack gasped—audibly—and clapped both hands over his mouth. His eyes were already brimming over.

Will pulled a small velvet box from his jacket and opened it, revealing a ring so simple and perfect. Straight out of Mack’s fairytale dreams.

“Marry me,” Will said, voice thick. “Please.”

Mack was crying openly now, messy and silent, shoulders shaking.

“Will you marry me?” Will asked again, gently this time.

Mack nodded before he could speak, choking out a breathless, “Yes,” followed by a completely broken, “Oh my god, yes.”

Will stood, barely getting the ring on Mack’s finger before Mack launched himself at him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, their bodies colliding with the sound of wet laughter and sniffled sobs.

“You idiot,” Mack mumbled into his shoulder. “God— i’m gonna punch you in the fucking mouth you— you stupid, romantic, sexy, idiot.”

Will was laughing too, breath catching in his throat as he buried his face in Mack’s neck. “You said yes, though.”

“I said yes,” Mack echoed. “Holy shit. I said yes.”

They pulled back just enough to kiss—slow, deep, trembling. Like a promise sealed in candlelight.

And somewhere behind them, a soft breeze rustled through the trees, petals catching on the air like confetti.

Will held him close, one hand pressed against the small of his back, the other curled tightly around Mack’s now-ringed hand.

“You really thought this was someone else’s setup?” he murmured against Mack’s hair.

“I panicked!” Mack groaned. “It looked expensive!”

Will laughed. “You’re worth it.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

Will smiled, forehead pressed to his. “I know. I love you more.”

sages thoughts⋆˙⟡: full transparency i cried a little bit writing this, i fucking love proposals and weddings i genuinely can’t hold back it’s so bad LMAO so please enjoy me basically baring my soul

#hrpf #macklin celebrini #will smith hockey #mlm #san jose sharks #willmack

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 year ago

Text

Unique 💜 Part 1

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OFC

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

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

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

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit smut, one-night stand but not really, light angst, Namjoon is a communication and consent king, protected sex, oral, fingering/handjob, toys, sapiosexuality, body worship, dirty talk, mouth riding, I think I can say switching (+ BTS being chaotic around RM and making him all embarrassed 😁)

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

A.N. I'm going to upload parts 2 and 3 here soon. Thank you, @eerieedits, for the banner!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s our bride!”

“Our Hyejin is glowing!”

“Wow, you look so beautiful!”

“So pure and fresh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Angie—”

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

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

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

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

“Stop trying to dodge the issue.”

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

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

Angie snickered. “Exactly zero.”

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

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

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

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

Namjoon blushed and rubbed his face to hide his embarrassment. He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but he wasn’t moving.

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

“Three.”

Namjoon raised his head; that was a fast answer.

“Three?!”

Angie rolled her eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angie smiled. “Of course, and I got yours. You’re right. Let’s talk better tomorrow. " She rubbed her face and pulled her sandy-colored hair back. “I’m too tired. What time is brunch tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can trust that that conversation will—”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.”

“And the other guys?”

“Won't ever know about it.”

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

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

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

“Namjoon! Oh—” Jin stumbled on them and stopped in his tracks. “What is taking you so long?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, unsure what to say, but Hyejin answered first. “He’s helping me with drinks. Soju?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine, I’ll leave you two be.”

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

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

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

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

“Be with her?” he repeated, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hyejin was at the entrance with her fiancé, who BTS knew well, so they greeted them well.

"So about that track—"

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

"Yes, dear."

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

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

"Will you do what I asked you to? " she asked, her smile hinting at anxiety.

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

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

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

But he didn't get the chance to ask. The arrival of more guests pushed them to get moving after a rushed photo with the bride and groom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded. “Meaning all of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Taehyung frowned.

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

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

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

“Shh, we don’t know that,” he said, leaving Jungkook truly puzzled. Why was Jimin shushing him? The music was so loud!

“But he’s so shy, there’s no way—”

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

“It won’t hurt,” Jimin pointed out.

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

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

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

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

“What kind of extremes?”

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

“That really happens?” he asked, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She expected him to laugh at her analogy, but he nodded with a small smile overflowing with sympathy.

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

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

Her tone was playful, but he choked on his spit, blushing an intense shade of red. “It’s a way of speaking,” he tried saying between coughs.

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

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

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

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

He licked his lips. Be yourself.

“I’m a music producer.”

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

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

“Because you’re not into women?”

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

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

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

“Such as?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to ask why, but he never did.

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.”

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

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

“Bad?” She couldn’t help but react to such a silly idea. “I told you I would never be bored with you, how is that bad?”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why not tell me?”

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

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

“I guess you’re neither now.”

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

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

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

The elevator moved up, and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. He tried not to feel disheartened. She looked incredibly cold and unapproachable for the first time, and it saddened him.

“Explain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let me,” he asked. She pushed the door open. “Let me be truthful.”

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

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

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

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

She shifted the weight from one foot to the other. “So that’s why you’re here? Because you’re lonely?”

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

“You want to chat?”

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

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

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

“Then what is it?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“You heard me.” She groaned mutely, pressing her nose bridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“No, that’s not it.”

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

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

“Explain it to me then.”

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

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

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

“Are you interested?”

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

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

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

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

“I am.”

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

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

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

She dropped her handbag on a chair and turned to see him still in the same place. His hands were on the doorframe, as if to prevent him from crossing that threshold, and she raised her eyebrows. He looked down at the floor for a second but then dropped his hands and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.

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

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

“How about a coke?”

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

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

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

"Right!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right. We need to get some sleep before tomorrow's wedding,” he said, gently smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I touch you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay…”

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

His movements became firmer as he leaned on her neck. “I want to know what you sound like.”

She tried repressing a moan, but his rough fingering made it very challenging. “If you keep doing that, you’ll find out soon enough.”

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

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

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

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

“Definitely, yes,” he groaned quietly.

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

He blinked, his brain freezing for a second. Then he seemed to recall his hand still inside her, whose fingers were dripping slick.

He could find out.

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

“After?”

“After.”

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

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

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

“I will?”

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

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

“Where do I cum?”

She smiled. “Make my hands messy.”

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

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

She came back and lay on the bed again, prompting him to do the same. Their heart rates were normal now, and she smiled playfully while he was still processing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tried taking it from her with a pout. “Well, we don’t have to use it, forget I—”

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

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

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

“Not tired,” he murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

Being naked always meant a significant amount of vulnerability, and they were both aware of that. They kissed slowly while comfortably sitting in bed and helped each other take off each piece of clothing at their own pace. He took most of his clothes off first, starting with his waistcoat, shirt, inner tee shirt, and then his slacks, but not without getting rid of his shoes and socks first. She was there to help him between kisses, happily distracting him.

She giggled when he made his shoes flip in the air with how fast he tried taking them off, and he smiled at her. Finally, he lay back down in bed and traced her uncovered legs. She still had her dress on, and he pecked her cheek almost reverently before asking, “Where’s the zipper?”

She bit her lip through a smile. “On the back.”

She got up from the bed and turned around so he could pull the zipper all the way down. The fabric parted to show her soft skin, and he traced it softly as he guided the dress strips to fall from her shoulders.

Her bra became visible, and he brushed the silky cloth. “Can I take it off?”

“I was hoping you would.”

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

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

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

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her in between letting go of one nipple to lick the other with wet traces and suckling sounds. He squeezed her asscheeks again, making her moan. “So beautiful. I need to have you,” he admitted, tracing his hands to pull her panties down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair point.” He chuckled. “Multitasking is not my thing.”

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

“I’m into that, I…” He rubbed the surprise off his face. “You just keep on surprising me.”

“In a bad way?” she asked, fearful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, I want to ride you.”

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

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

“I will. Tell me what you want.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very confident,” he teased, supporting her waist again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was so deep inside her that reaching an orgasm would be a piece of cake. All that dirty talk had turned her on bad and his dick stretching her to the brink was taking her there.

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

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

“Very lucky,” he breathed.

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

“Oh yes.”

She cursed, grinding her clit on him perfectly to get her there before she fell apart in moans over his mouth. He focused on feeling her pulsing around him, taking deep breaths to take in that sensation without letting it unfocus him. Her moans as she came were beautiful, covering him with goosebumps and glee.

When she sighed and searched for his lips, he hugged her closer and kissed her. She was blushing and glowing and it filled him with pride to see her smile.

“See how into you I am?”

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

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

“A lot,” he admitted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready to admit I was right?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You might use me, but it had to be me.” She bit her lip with the pleasure rushing through her from his pounding. “You might do whatever you want to me, but the point is that you want me. Only I can make you feel this way. It will always be a form of worship.”

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

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

He chuckled and leaned forward to grab her tits, fucking her so deep that her moans pitched.

“Fuck, you’re deep.”

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

Too well, in fact. He had to straighten back up and calm his pace.

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

He squeezed her asscheeks. “I’m your type, huh?”

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

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

“You like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned on her and talked to her but she couldn’t register.

“Yeah?” She finally caught him saying. “You want it? Cum for me. Cum with me.”

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

He got off her and lay next to her, gently pulling her to fall to the sheets by his side.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a hint of concern as he pulled her hair out of her face.

She was still panting with her mouth open, and she blinked. It took her a moment to react. “What… What the hell was that?”

“What?”

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

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

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

“What?”

“My brain shutting down like that.” She shrugged, hugging herself.

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

“It was awesome, it’s what it was.”

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

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

He let his forehead touch hers and looked deeply into her eyes. “So are you.”

They quieted, calming down as their sweaty bodies cooled down, and eventually, the lethargy became too much. As if on automatic pilot, she got up to pee and he took care of the condom and did the same. They only needed a few minutes, then they threw themselves in bed and snuggled together to sleep relaxedly.

*****

Despite her sluggishness, Angie eventually woke up and looked around, confused. She thought it was the jetlag still messing her up after three days. She reached for her phone: 5:53 AM. She sighed deeply and put her phone away; she could still sleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grinned happily. “I do.”

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

“Remember my sassy mouth?”

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

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

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

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

He nuzzled her back and hummed for a moment.

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

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

“Come here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was panting, reaching to wipe the thin coat of sweat off his brow. When he looked down at her, she curled her lips in amusement.

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

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

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

Her chin dropped in disbelief. “You stopped our fun for that?”

“I want you to feel good.” He smiled sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, ma'am.”

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

She sighed as she took him inside her mouth again. She did so all the way a few times to show him the limit. He didn’t fit completely in, so despite his groans, she hoped he had paid attention.

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

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

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

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

She moaned when his cum spurted inside her mouth, and her lips became taut again. She sucked him neatly and swallowed him dry as he did his best to contain his jerking hips. He was still holding onto her hair and head, and her mouth felt so wet and tight he had to take a deep breath, mastering himself until the end.

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

“You… are fucking great,” she said, licking her lips.

He laughed quietly, and she did the same, grabbing his hands to get up and stand tall. Immediately, he supported her lower back and neck and drew her in for a kiss. His tongue licked and danced with hers, not bothered in the slightest by his taste.

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

He smiled. “Me too.”

He let her go just enough for the both of them to get under the sheets again and snuggled her as she hid her face on his chest.

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

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

“Late! Late!”

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

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

She turned to him, then blinked — of course, he understood what the lade shouted. She frowned and searched for her phone. “We just fell asleep a minute ago, how—”

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

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

“Shit, shit, shit.”

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

“They’re looking for me too.”

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

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

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

He smiled, turned to look for his clothes, and put them on while she grabbed her phone and tapped to record a voice message.

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

She sent it and turned to the man in her bedroom. The sight of him back in his suit gave her butterflies, but she swallowed them. She probably shouldn’t have felt that way; she was an adult and knew how those things went. Still, he wasn’t out of the room yet, and she was too tempted.

So, while he bent over to put his shoes on, she walked up to him and touched his jaw, encouraging him to stand. She kissed him softly, and he stood up by himself, supporting her as he did.

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

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

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

He showered and got ready as fast as he could. As he put on his gray blazer, someone hastily knocked on his bedroom door, and he ran to open it.

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

“Hi guys—”

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

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

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

“Were you hiding somewhere, hyung?” Taehyung asked.

They barged into the room as if searching for something, and he had no chance to say anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is your bed still made?”

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

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

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

“But this perfectly?” Taehyung insisted.

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

Everyone then turned to Namjoon to complain.

“It would have melted.”

“What melted, it would have fallen.”

“You should have eaten it.”

“No one leaves the chocolate there.”

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

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

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

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

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

“For an hour?” Taehyung scoffed.

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

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

“We’re going to be late.”

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

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

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

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

I’ll see you soon.

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

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

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

“Hyung! Trust me, I just—”

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

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

“Excuse me.”

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

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

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

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

They went straight to their seats in the second row on the bride’s side. Most people were already there and waiting.

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

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

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

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

Hyejin was stunning and nearly crying with happiness as she walked by her friends and family, and Namjoon teared up at the sight of her. He glanced to check on the others, and everyone was smiling the same way. Only Yoongi looked down for a moment while Hyejin was left by her dad to her fiancé at the altar.

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

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

“You look beautiful.” Namjoon heard Yoongi tell the bride quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi again.”

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

“Did you have any trouble making it in time?” she leaned in to ask in Namjoon’s ear, and he immediately felt a blush spread on his cheeks.

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

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

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

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

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

“She does, doesn’t she?”

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

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

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

“Who… are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which reminded her of who she had slept with last night. She kept chatting with them while she considered this in the back of her mind. Namjoon was so great, it was hard to believe, but then again, not really. He was smart, sensible, polite, hot, and a good lover. She almost scoffed in disbelief, how was he still single? But he had to be — Namjoon didn’t say anything, and Hyejin would have when Angie told her they had spent the night together.

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile and sat back down.

“Can I ask you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She eyed him with squinted eyes. “Hmm, can you be trusted with such sensitive information?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So is he…”

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

Namjoon attempted to smile. “No, he wasn’t. He still isn’t.”

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

“He’s an idol.”

“So?”

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

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

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

She dragged her chair and got up, and he stuttered to say something but was too late to stop her. He saw her walk away, disappearing between all the people, and felt powerless. What could he say? Maybe she was right. Having seen Yoongi and Hyejin grow up together, he surely would have wished it was them getting married today. In a parallel universe, maybe they were. And it was sad to think Yoongi was not as happy as he could have been, but—

“She’s pretty.”

Namjoon turned to see Yoongi sitting on Jin’s spot to his left. Namjoon raked his fingers through his hair and nodded. There was nothing to say other than agree.

“And she seems interesting, too,” Yoongi mused quietly. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent hours talking to her like no one else exists.”

Namjoon pressed his lips, unsure of what to say. “When did I?”

“Last night,” Yoongi answered. “And today, but you said something that upset her.”

Namjoon huffed and rubbed his face. What the hell was happening with him lately?

“We were discussing you, actually,” he admitted, eying his hyung.

“Me?”

“Yes. And Hyejin.”

Yoongi held his eyes, then looked down at his drink, and Namjoon reached for his. He wouldn’t say more than that; they were discussing secrets, after all.

“I love her.”

Namjoon almost choked, and Yoongi scoffed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. You were probably the only one who ever noticed.”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “How are you?”

“Miserable,” he answered with a smile, then downed his drink. “I’m burying my heart today.”

Namjoon grimaced but didn’t know what to say. He still tried, “Things could have been different.” Yoongi scoffed and pushed his empty glass away. “Do you regret it?”

Yoongi heaved a deep breath. “I always wanted to be successful. To have a legion of fans. To have money and comfort. To be recognized for the genius I am.” Namjoon hid his smile with his glass. “Losing her… is my only regret.”

Yoongi’s eyes were intense and had a pain contained in them that made Namjoon instantly worried. He didn’t remember ever seeing Yoongi like that, though it was true that Yoongi was the most reserved of them all, especially emotionally.

“So be confident,” Yoongi told him with half a smile. “Whatever you feel or want to do, be confident. You can do it.”

“Guys, you’re not dancing!” Taehyung neared them with the rest of the gang.

“I’m not dancing.” Yoongi scoffed.

“Me neither,” Namjoon agreed with a forced smile.

Angie returned to the table and sat in her spot after giving them all a small smile. The guys restarted chatting, but Namjoon couldn’t pay attention. He hadn’t turned to see or talk to her, but her quiet presence there burned him. There were things left unsaid between them; he just didn’t know what he could say.

“You have something on your neck.”

He frowned at the male voice speaking in English and turned back — as all of them did, in fact — only to see someone familiar talking to Angie.

Jin tried to call him, “Taesun!”

But he was dismissed quickly with a nod. Jungkook muttered something about Taesun being in his spot, and Taehyung agreed quietly.

“What does he want?”

Namjoon let out a deep breath. He knew exactly what Taesun wanted. Hyejin had asked him to make sure her brother wouldn’t harass Angie, so Namjoon should have expected him to try something.

“Taesun—”

“I’ll be with you guys in a minute, okay?” He gave them a half-caustic smile before turning back to Angie in English. “Did you notice? Right here.”

He meant to touch the skin where her shoulder met her neck, but she backed away to dodge his hand with a frown. By doing this, she almost bumped into Namjoon, who gently caught her shoulders. She felt supported by his touch, but that was her fight, and she shouldn’t bother him.

“Sorry.” She bowed quietly without looking at Namjoon before turning to Taesun. “Yes, I know.” Her tone was dry, as if she was being bothered, which she was.

Taesun smiled, maybe choosing not to see it. “Did you hit it somewhere by accident or something?”

Her lips curved. “No, I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”

Namjoon had decided to turn halfway toward his bandmates, who were listening to the conversation unapologetically despite not understanding it entirely. He couldn’t help a smile at the snarky tone of her voice, and he hid it under his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

Namjoon’s lips pressed at the wanton tone of Taesun’s voice, and he closed his eyes. After the last words between him and Angie, he would understand it if—

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” Namjoon’s eyes snapped open and landed on her, unable to hide his interest. “You see, I hit more places than my neck last night, so moving would be really uncomfortable.”

Namjoon’s hand stayed over his face, but anyone could tell he looked concerned. Did he hurt her somehow?

Yet Taesun chuckled and shook his head. “I got it, I got it. It’s a pity, but maybe you’ll change your mind later.”

Her lips curved in a polite smile, but she turned away quickly to grab her drink and dismiss him. The others might not have understood a word, but body language and tone of voice spoke volumes. Once Taesun got up, Jungkook immediately sat in his rightful place beside Angie, and Taehyung followed him. They both leaned in worriedly and quietly asked her if she was okay. Taesun was married, and his attitude was distasteful.

Jin and Hoseok immediately bit the bullet and jumped at the opportunity to distract him.

Yoongi supported his head on his hand when he asked quite loudly, “How’s your wife doing?”

Taesun only gave him half a smile before excusing himself.

“How can Hyejin have the same blood as him,” Hoseok wondered aloud.

“I need another drink,” Yoongi said, getting up.

The others decided to follow him when they eyed Namjoon, who was staring at the table before him while trying to decide something himself. He didn’t show intention to follow them, and Taehyung smacked Jungkook’s shoulder amicably so the youngster would be reassured that leaving him there was okay.

As soon as they were gone, Namjoon reached for Angie’s hand on her lap, and she turned to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured him with a smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“But you just said you’re uncomfortable moving.”

He was fully leaning into her now, fixed on her glistening eyes and quite alienated from the rest of the party.

“Yeah, I would be. With him,” she underlined with clear aversion before her features softened. “I would be comfortable with you, however.”

He smiled, and it reached his heart. His dimples framed his happiness.

Still, he shook his head. “I can’t. Too many eyes.”

“It’s just a dance.” Her smile was fading as she understood what was happening.

“I doubt I could keep my hands off you.” His mouth spoke faster than it should have, but it was truthful. He was nothing but himself, he was confident.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Their eyes locked as they let the silence surround them. His hand was still holding hers on her lap; he was definitely too close to her. It would be obvious to any bystander, and life… He only had the one.

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He nodded with a sad smile; he only could have hoped. “Would you… have time to be with me?”

He caressed her hand before he looked into her eyes.

She grinned. “Hyejin is leaving on her honeymoon tomorrow. I have all the time in the world until Monday.”

He nodded. “Then stay with me.”

Next Part >

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