#so yeah have him as celebration for that!!!

[weoris]

BIRTHDAY BOY ‎ ❪ 엔하이픈 ꔫ 양정원 ❫

O1 ✉️ each year you stress on making his ‎ ‎ birthday even better than the last. who knew ‎that all he ‎ ‎ needed was his favourite girl?

O ୨୧ 2 childhood friends to lovers | birthday au. ‎ 💼 ׂ  ׅ shy! jungwon x fem!reader fluff ‎ ‎ alcohol kissing 2.7k wc.

‎ ❛ clickhere! 🎀 dailytoo! ❜

2016 ━━━ THE 12TH BIRTHDAY

another huff of frustration left your lips, as you panted and wiped the sweat off your forehead. your mom chuckled while placing the sprinkles on his cake, as she looked at how focused you were on blowing the balloon.

“Honey relax.. you’ve been at it for Jungwonie’s not going to focus on one balloon for his birthday.”

your mother said softly, making you glare at her and shake your head, “You don’t get it, everything has to be perfect!”

she rolled her eyes and nudged Jungwon’s mom’s arm, as the two women chuckled.. it was adorable how hyper fixated you always were on birthdays of your best friends. your mom didn’t even want to begin thinking about how crazy you got on your own special days..

tons of other elementary school kids started to fill in Jungwon’s house a few hours later, and you watched from afar with a little prideful grin on your face. yeah, you did that. invitations were your job! and you took these sorts of jobs very seriously.

“Guys! I see him!” Minji exclaimed, her voice echoing off the living room walls as she saw his mom’s car parking outside. All the kids shushed each other, hiding behind the couch, the counter, the plants.. anything.. as you giggled and turned off the lights hurriedly.

Jungwon let out a content sighed with a grin in his mom’s car as he licked the spoon of cake icing. he had just gotten his own little birthday celebration at taekwondo practise, his coach and teammates singing him happy birthday and even getting some cake slices!

“Don’t eat too much, we still have dinner at home..” his mom playfully scolded, parking in the driveway as she looked through the mirror.

Jungwon smiled shyly mid-lick, giggling a bit as he got caught, putting the dessert down. “Sorry, mom~”

His mom chuckled and shook her head, as Jungwon removed his seatbelt and they both started walking up to their house. “Mom? Is y/n not coming over?” He suddenly asked, making her sigh again.

“Sorry sweetie, she has to stay over at her aunts house for another week.. her parents will be there! you’ll still get your present from her!” His mom replied, trying to bite back a smile.. jungwon nodded but a pout grew on his face as he looked down..

it wasn’t really the present he wanted..

“Yeah.. I can always see her at school-” Jungwon muttered, trying to be optimistic even when his eyes showed disappointment..

“Surprise!” but suddenly, his saddened eyes sparkled in shock and adoration.. his eyes sprawled across the room.. the chocolate cake on the table, cat and bts themed birthday ballon’s, all of his friends.. you..? you were here?! was this real?

“H-Happy Birthday!” You started awkwardly, causing a chain reaction as everyone in the room cheered as well.

Jungwon chuckled shyly and rubbed his neck, looking down at you.. “You told me you were going out of town.. did you plan all of this?” He muttered quietly, as you shrugged in a playful manner. “Maybe?” tilting your head, you giggled and ruffled his hair.

He bit his lip, closing his eyes.. while letting you mess up his hair. “You.. you’re so..” jungwon whispered, chuckling a bit as he looked down at you.. while you tilted your head and raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “Hm?”

“Let’s go dude!!” his friends grabbed his shoulders suddenly pulled him in to the party, disturbing your cute moment..

You giggled and looked over at him, how he seemed so shocked at the sudden action. you hoped he’d have fun tho.. after all, you had planned out only all of his favourite party games ever!

Jungwon hummed as he looked out on the night sky, not really paying attention to his friends leaving with their parents down the road.. or the fact that his house was a mess downstairs.

he just stared at the pretty stars in the night sky, the 10 o’clock hour making him feel almost scandalous for staying past his bedtime..

but another thing itched the back of his mind. Jungwon loved all the gifts, all the party games and of course the cake.. but he hadn’t been able to spend much time with you.

he didn’t have time to thank you for the surprise, he didn’t receive your gift, he could barely even see you from all the music and dancing his friends forced him in to!

Plus.. jungwon felt too shy to admit wanting to spend time with you. he knew his friends would tease him, everyone already teased you both relentlessly! And anytime that happened, he risked the chance of spilling out his secret feelings..

He sighed and leaned back against the wall of his balcony, sitting on the wooden floor with his knees tucked, his arms resting atop.

“Hey.. What are you doing here? On.. the ground..” You whined a little, peeking out from the door. “You should be helping your parents and I clean up!”

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile at your complaining, looking at you from the side. “Mhm.. sorry.. I’ll be there..” he hummed quietly, eyes trailing down to the ground again.

You didn’t know why, but you felt a bit guilty.. he seemed to be a bit troubled, why not lend a shoulder to rest on? “..actually it’s fine.. the birthday boy shouldn’t clean up~” you cooed gently, sighing before joining him on the floor.

He sighed and smiled, looking down and fiddling with his fingers again. “I can clean up..” he added, wanting to be of help, but you smacked your lips and nudged him.

“Tch.. I just excused your chore, and now you wanna do em? Seriously.. what kind of kid are you?” you huffed, making him giggle again as he kept his eyes down.. he couldn’t look you up in the eye..

but he noticed the floor was pretty dirty, and your white skirt was sat on it. he frowned and poked your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Don’t sit there.. you’ll dirty your skirt. you can rest on my bed, if you’d like?” Jungwon whispered, making you blush a little at how sweet he was..

You smiled but shook your head. “It’s ok..” you whispered. “I wanna spend time with you..”

Jungwon froze for a moment, before gulping and nodding.. trying to appear calm. only, he had to turn his face away from you and keep his hand over his mouth to hide his reddening cheeks and shy grin. You giggled again at how cute he looked, but didn’t push it..

“So.. you enjoyed the party?” you asked gently again, making him nod immediately, still playing with his fingers. “Mhm..” he hummed.

“Only.. I couldn’t find you for most of it..” jungwon admitted, feeling his heart race at how bold he suddenly felt. you smirked and looked at him. “Missed me?”

he chewed his inner lip, sighing a bit as he looked up at the stars again. you giggled and shook your head, liking how he got all shy.. “Yea..” he suddenly said, making you turn and widen your eyes, with your cheeks turning warm.

“I.. wanted to thank you for the party.. and I wanted to talk to you.. I wanted to take Polaroids too..” he suddenly let out, feeling a sudden rush of boldness hit him. maybe it was his birthday luck that he thought could help him?

but you were surprised.. and Polaroids? he hated whenever you took Polaroids of him. “.. you like those things, right?” jungwon whispered, looking up at you again. your eyes turned big again, gulping and nodding.. he wanted to do something you liked?

“Y-yeah.. I do..” you whispered back, gulping and looking down.

Jungwon felt his cheeks warming up.. but he felt a strange sense of pride and his ego rising in his chest.. you were the nervous one for once.

“By the way.. here’s your gift..” you added, grabbing the little gift box from behind you and handing it to him. He chuckled and hurriedly opened it.. a little friendship bracelet resting inside, blue and orange strings, with his initials and even a cat charm..

jungwon raised his eyebrows and took the bracelet immediately, breath shuddering a little. it was something so simple, so small.. he didn’t even like jewellery or things like that. but he couldn’t stop that fluttery feeling in his heart..

“Ta da~ see? I have one too!” You cooed, showing him your wrist, yours with pink and white strings and another kitty charm. he looked down at your wrist.. ‘JWS GIRL’ it read.. making him stumble a bit.. his girl? you had a bracelet.. calling you his girl?

You chuckled at the surprised reaction on his face. “It still is your birthday gift. I wanted it to be special for you!” jungwon smiled shakily and nodded, his eyes fluttering from his gift to your wrist, to back to your eyes.

“I.. I love it.. thanks y/n..” he stuttered, chuckling awkwardly as he put the bracelet on. you clapped playfully again and giggled. “Perfect! Wait here!” you exclaimed, standing up and leaving the balcony.

Jungwon’s eyes widened, as he looked back and leaned to the door to find you.. but you had run off already, bumping against a shelf on your way. Another laugh escaped his lips as he saw you stumble.. how endearing, he thought.

He wasn’t expecting you to come back with your Polaroid camera, grabbing his wrist close to yours to rest on your thigh, snapping the photo with your other hand. Jungwon gulped at the sudden proximity, but a little smile grew on his lips as he saw how excited you looked, flapping around the plastic photo eagerly and biting your lip.

“Look! ‘YJW’ and ‘JWs GIRL’!” you read out from the Polaroid that showed off your bracelets, before looking back up at him with a smirk, “We’re pretty cute together aren’t we~?” you cooed, knowing it’d make him turn red like a tomato again.

and turn red he did, as he chuckled nervously and bit his lip, nodding at your words while rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-yeah.. we are..” he said softly again while you were admiring the cute photo.

“Here.. come here..” you hummed again, but you were the one that leaned closer to him, as you both stood up this time, your shoulder in front of his. Jungwon pursed his lips at the sudden contact again, but eventually put his arm over your shoulder and held you close against him, while you snapped another Polaroid.

“Damn.. we really do look good together!” You exclaimed excitedly at how good the photo turned out, making jungwon pull back with a little smile.. his eyes stuck on you.. “m-mhm..” he hummed absentmindedly..

Your eyes found his again, looking at him with sparkly eyes and a grin. “Happy 12th, birthday boy!” you exclaimed, suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping into his arms.

“Woah-” He stumbled back a bit, trying to catch his breath and his stance as he quickly wrapped his own arms around your back. a tiny giggle left his lips, voice muffled as his face was pressed against your thick sweater.

You bit your lip and pulled away, looking back up at him and smiling mischievously. “By the way.. I had another gift ready too..” you muttered softly, making his eyebrows raise as he chuckled and nodded. “You did? That’s generous..” he hummed.

with a nod, you suddenly pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Jungwon’s eyes turned wide for the hundredth time that night.. as he looked down at you.. he felt the world stop for a moment as you giggled up at him.

“Rest up if you won’t clean up!” You exclaimed, running off with a giggle suddenly. Jungwon was left speechless, his hand on his cheek as his fingers lightly touched the lip balm from your kiss mark..

This was definitely his favourite birthday..

2025 ━━━ THE 21ST BIRTHDAY

you bit your lip while trying to tie the balloon together again, panting in frustration from how heavily you breathed to blow it up earlier..

heeseung raised an eyebrow, but Sunoo was already used to your enthusiasm in birthdays, especially those of Jungwon’s. “Y/n? You ok? Your face is like.. blue.” hee asked in worry, coming behind you.

you inhaled deeply, after almost loosing your lung capacity in the span of five minutes. “Huh? Y-yeah-” you muttered, before the sound of the balloon flying away and the air splattering away hit your face, blowing away your hair.

“Goddamnit!” you exclaimed in frustration, running around to grab the balloon you accidentally let go of.. Sunoo rolled his eyes while decorating the rest of the living room. Heeseung gulped, looking at you in worry.

“Is she ok?” He asked the other. Sunoo shrugged and nodded. “I think so.. she’s always like this, just gets crazy over birthdays, especially Jungwon’s..”

“You know that polaroid jungwon keeps in the back of his phone? Of the two bracelets? those were from his 12th birthday, y/n gifted him friendship bracelets!” Sunoo exclaimed with a slight giggle, but looked back down with a soft sigh and shook his head.

“But that was before they became a couple.. they got together three years later and became the completely insufferable couple we know and love..” Sunoo added, making heeseung chuckle. “Hey.. jungwonie isn’t insufferable.” He argued back.

Sunoo rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Try dealing with 15-year-old jungwon yapping your ear off about his every date with y/n.. you’ll see just how insufferable he was..”

Heeseung pursed his lips, smirking slightly as he shook his head.

“Hey! Jungwon’s gonna be back in half an hour and the place is barely decorated! Get your hands on some ribbons and get this place in tip-top form!” You suddenly scolded, pointing at both heeseung and sunoo.

Sunoo rolled his eyes and sighed, but heeseung playfully saluted and nodded, cracking up as you left. “Yeah.. that girl has just never stopped being insufferable..”

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled as Jungwon opened the door, still clad in his leather jacket and all-black outfit. He gasped and chuckled at everything, some fancy champagne on the table, the golden 21 balloons on top of his couch, all of his friends.. and you.

He put his jacket on the coat rack, hugging you immediately with a giggle. “My god, honey.. this is so unexpected!” Jungwon cooed, holding you tight against his chest..

“Seriously? you really didn’t know~?” You chuckled in surprise, looking up at him as he pulled away and kept you under his arm. “No, I knew..” he muttered, still with a grin as he looked around at all of his friends and the decor.

Of course he knew, you had only been planning a surprise party at every birthday of his since he was 12.

“Ok enough with the sappy stuff, let’s get partying!” Jake wooed, his pink party glasses already on as he slung his arm over Jungwon’s shoulder, and slammed the champagne bottle into his chest. “Woo!” Jake exclaimed again, making jungwon chuckle and quickly grasp the alcohol.. he was 100% sure his friend had already started pregaming too hard..

Jungwon shook his head but popped open the bottle, starting his 21st celebration as you looked at your smiley boyfriend with adoration..

“Mm~ thank you for my party~” jungwon cooed, his arms wrapped around your waist as he embraced you from behind and walked you to the bedroom.

his voice was slightly murmured and slurred being against your cheek and jaw, pressing soft kisses to your skin.. he was also a bit tipsy, just a little~

a giggle escaped your lips, as you ruffled his blonde locks behind you. “Thank you for being born..” you cooed, turning back to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, slowly pressing your lips onto his in a deep, yet gentle kiss.

Jungwon giggled against your lip, tilting his head and leaning lower to reach your lips as he pushed back the door behind you, entering the comforting feeling of your bedroom.

He pulled away with a soft moan, giggling at how pretty you looked. jungwon stayed there for a moment, brushing your hair back as he looked down at you.. with such love in his eyes, but you could barely distinguish them from his originally sparkly eyes that seemed to have the stars in them.

“What, sweetie?” You whispered, wondering what was going on in his pretty mind, behind that cute grin. he chuckled cutely again and turned red slightly from how you caught his obvious staring. “N-nothing..” he shook his head, giggling softly.

“Nothing, baby..” he hummed again, pressing his nose against your cheek as he left another open-mouthed kiss to yours skin.

you giggled at his clinginess, not used to him being so bold. he eventually got all blushy again when he realised what he was doing, as he pulled back and covered his hand with his face with a lazy giggle..

“Mmh.. gosh..” he chuckled groggily. “I’m sorry..”

but his words just made your heart warm up even more. you held his hand again, dragging him to the balcony. “C’mere honey..” you whispered, as jungwon hummed in a raspy voice and followed you..

you pushed him slightly to the rails, taking out your Polaroid camera.. jungwon raised his eyebrows when he noticed what you were doing, another lovesick yet embarrassed grin on his face. “Baby, I’m drunk..” he groaned, rubbing his cheek softly.

“Just pose~” you said in a teasingly scolding tone, making him giggle again as he shook his head and closed his eyes. he puffed his cheeks and pouted his lips, taking one of his hands out of his pockets and making a heart pose against his cheek. “Aw! How cute!” you cooed, an overly dramatic tone to tease him.

Jungwon’s exaggerated cute pose faltered at your words, as he chuckled at how cruelly supportive you were. but you had already snapped a photo of him at peak-aegyo form.

you giggled and flapped around the photo excitedly, biting your lip and looking down at the picture eagerly. “Awh~ you’re so adorable!” You cooed, but jungwon rolled his eyes, keeping his hand in his pocket, while the other snatched the photo.

“This is for your eyes only, got that, princess?” He said in a stern voice, but his smile was too handsome and adorable for you to take seriously.. as your heart started racing even more. you nodded anyway and fought back a chuckle.

Jungwon suddenly took the camera too, pushing you back slightly against the railing. “Here.. let me take yours too~” he cooed, snapping a cute photo of yours as you giggled, but posed for the camera in a corny manner.

and either jungwon didn’t know how to work your old camera.. or he was too busy staring at the tiny screen.. as it took forever for him to snap a picture. and judging by his paused reaction, how his eyes turned a bit hazy and his giggles stopped.. you guessed it was the latter.

you pursed your lips, hiding your shy grin..

but you walked back up to him again, reviewing the flashy Polaroid. despite his drunk state, the photo came out beautiful! “Honey, it’s gorgeous!” you exclaimed, giggling in excitement. Jungwon nodded, a stupid little grin on his face as he looked down at you, stumbling a little.. a little whisper escaped his lips “yeah.. gorgeous..”

you didn’t notice his little distracted daze, but you looked up at him in excitement again. “Let’s take a selfie, hun!” you giggled, mini-clapping as you bit your lip. jungwon raised his eyebrows and chuckled at how cute you looked, as he patted your head and nodded.

“Alright, babe.. look up..” he whispered, a hand on your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. he puffed his cheeks again and pouted his lips, as he kneeled down a little to reach your height. you put your hands on his shoulder and tip-toed slightly.

“1, 2..” he quietly said, and you let out a soft, hushed giggle as you turned to him and smiled.. before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek on 3, as the flash clicked through.

Jungwon’s eyes widened slightly, but a chuckle escaped his lips.. even at the simplest kisses, you still had him as shy as he was 9 years ago..

he blushed and rubbed his neck, as you snatched the picture and flapped the photo back and forth, grinning at the cute photo down. “Hey.. we look pretty cute together!” you hummed excitedly, raising your eyebrows as you showed him the photo.

Jungwon chuckled and nodded, closing his eyes in a way that said this girl.. “yes, baby..” he hummed, kissing your forehead softly. “we do look pretty cute together..” he said slowly as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head and looked down at the photo..

“Guess we have more Polaroids to add to the birthday collection~” you cooed, giggling softly, as Jungwon nodded and shrugged. “Guess we do..”

You could tell he was pretty tired from his vice and state, but you had one more thing to say..

you put your arms around his neck again, biting your lip and giggling as he pushed him back slightly from your tight hug. a much gentler, yet just as enthusiastic embrace than the one 9 years ago..

“Happy 21st, birthday boy!” You exclaimed, as jungwon stumbled back, holding you quickly against his chest with his one arm, the other still holding the camera.. “Woah..” he let out, chuckling at your eagerness.

“Mhm.. thank you, baby..” jungwon cooed, looking down at you and chuckling as he pressed another chaste kiss to your cheek. you giggled at his affection and leaned up slightly, rubbing your noses gently against each other.

“Mm.. You always know how to make my birthdays the best each year.. my girl~” he whispered with a soft giggle, recalling the bracelets you both still had on.. while rubbing his nose against yours as his eyes trailed down to your lips.

you giggled again and nodded, “and I’ll do it all the way to your 100th.. y j w~ ” you whispered back with a chuckle, leaning up and softly pressing your lips against his..

one thing’s for sure, he wanted to spend every birthday with you.. with his girl.

© weoris | tumblr.

❪ BUNNY TALK ❫ the day I come back is jungwon’s bday , xin x jw agenda is meant to be fr. hope you all enjoy !! >< who else loves hopelessly in love enha 🙋🏻‍♀️ and happy jungwon day 🐈💓

❪ PERM TAGLIST ❫ @w3bqrl @boowoowho @ahnneyong @kynrki @ixomiyu @yunki4evr @flwoie @bubblytaetae @ja4hyvn @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @trsrina @adajoemaya @stepout-09-15 zzegarki @ineedaherosavemeenow @lcv3lies @violetinferno @mijuuv @enhapocketz @hoonics @isoobie @dolldhn @jiaant11 @yeomha @mosssi @j-wyoung @artstaeh @spilled-coffee-cup @cowsmicwu @nishislcve @laylasbunbunny @greentulip @enhacolor @miumura @firstclassjaylee @wensurr @vmpivory OPEN

[httpknjoon]

quite an impression | myg

plot | that time where the afterparty left quite an impression on the not-so-friendly relationship between the popstar and her bassist.

w.c | 5.1k

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

After the show, everyone, including the band and the show's crew members, was told that you and your management prepared an afterparty for everyone in one of the known yet private hotspots around New York City.

Everyone agreed to come, including Yoongi due to the band's persuasion. Plus, he doesn't really have anything to do back in his hotel room. The holiday EP's done. The concert tour just finished its first leg, which means their one-month holiday break basically started the moment you closed the show a while ago.

"What happened to your Valentino suit?" Fred was the first to ask when Yoongi joined the rest of the band on their ride to the afterparty venue.

Yoongi shakes his head lazily, "Don't want to ruin it at the party."

Before getting back into his usual clothes, Yoongi had to convince Paul to let him change. But your stylist was eager to make him wear it to the party tonight. He told him that there would be paparazzi there to take pictures of them arriving.

"I don't really care what I'm wearing if I ever get photographed tonight," Yoongi replied to Paul. It's not like I'm the main star, he thought.

He was so sure that the paparazzi were not interested in taking photos of them, but the moment their ride stopped in front of the private bar, Yoongi could hear the little commotion outside. There were paparazzi waiting by the sidelines with their big cameras and as soon as a car stopped, they got up to prepare to whoever is in the vehicle.

"This is crazy." Akio gasped as they all looked outside their tinted windows.

"Okay, put on your sunglasses if y'all don't want to be blind before we even get to the party." Noah, who has been a part of your team for years now, told them.

Yoongi was thankful he followed what your lead guitarist advised because the moment they got out of the car. There are flashing lights everywhere. He can hear some people calling his name, which is something he still needs to get used to. He doesn't remember getting much attention when he was at other artists' shows. Hearing various voices call his name everywhere makes him feel weird— not in a good way. They didn't stop for photos, heading straight to the private club's entrance while being guided by one of your security staff.

"I love playing for big artists," Akio whispered when they entered the venue, already eyeing the cocktails not too far from where they stood. "They know how to party."

It was obvious, the moment they got in, that the afterparty was well-prepared and expensive. Although the lights were dimmed and colorful fairy lights mainly provided lights for the place, there were customized holiday decors everywhere to celebrate your EP, which plays in the background. There are ice sculptures of your brand's logo and even a few mistletoes on entryways with your signature kiss mark placed on them.

"Yeah, YN's label is never scared to splurge money on her," Noah said, pulling out his phone to take a picture of the place.

Who will be scared anyway? You are one of the biggest pop stars in the world currently. Your songs earn hundreds of thousands of streams every day and almost everything you do gets praised by your fans and critics. Everyone, even you yourself, knows you are the top cash cow of your company at the moment, considering your recent tour and EP release. You are an investment worth investing in.

Yoongi stayed quiet while his eyes scanned the whole place. He never really cared about parties, but he could not deny that your label made an effort to make tonight's celebration impressive.

Everyone was invited, from your concert staff down to the late-night show crew members. While the band was walking through the crowd, Yoongi took a glimpse of Art, chatting with the producers of the late-night show you just hosted. Your dancers also came, already enjoying the dancefloor with other guests. There are more faces Yoongi had recognized, but there are some he still hasn't seen yet. Paul... Cal... You.

"Yoongi, over here!"

Suddenly, somebody called his name, snapping him out of his trance. Yoongi turned and immediately spotted another familiar face waving his hand across the room. It was a friendly gesture from Ben, one of the tour's sound engineers, Yoongi raised his hand, offering a small wave before walking deeper in Ben's direction. Along the way, one of the waiters offered him a drink and Yoongi got one, quickly taking a sip to hopefully give some energy to him to socialize. Nods and smiles were exchanged once Yoongi joined the small group, which included a few of your staff and a couple of writers from the late-night show. Ben was in the middle of telling the others of something.

"Yeah, the tour just ended its first leg this week. I think we'll be back touring internationally in the last week of January though. Right, Yoongi?"

Feeling a lot of eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, Yoongi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away, "Yeah, I think so."

Ben went on to talk about the work he does in your shows. Yoongi, as usual, just listened and observed the lively crowd.

"I saw you on the show earlier, you are a great guest." someone in the group spoke, making Yoongi look back to them.

A woman in a ribbed-knit, V-neck, white sweater smiled at him, offering her hand, "I'm Bea, one of the writers of The Late, Late Show."

"Yoongi, YN's bassist." he shakes her hand.

"And favorite band member?" Bea teased, referencing the question in the show earlier. They both laughed.

Yoongi smiled, shaking his head before sipping from his glass, "Not sure about that."

"Oh, trust me. Based on our team's research, you seem to be YN's favorite." the curly-haired brunette smirked.

"What research?" he asked, now curious about what she said.

"Well, you know, our team does research on our guests before writing for them. Then, we noticed how many times you two interacted on stage during shows, even your outfits aligned during her Halloween shows," she answered casually. "She always seemed to gravitate towards you."

Her tone seemed to be implying something, making Yoongi shake his head again.

"She just likes to play around on stage." he denied whatever Bea must be thinking.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." she sneered, hiding an obvious smile while drinking from her cocktail.

Yoongi looked at her, trying to decode her thoughts, and when she felt her stare on him, she simply smiled, "I mean, I kinda get her."

As the music gets louder and the crowd gets bigger, Yoongi finds himself chatting with Bea ever since they met half an hour ago. They occupied one of the booths in the club alone while they talked about their jobs in the entertainment industry, something they are similar to.

Bea is funny, witty, and smart, Yoongi thought. He likes that she doesn't force him to speak in their conversation. He didn't really mind her telling him about her experiences as someone who moved here to New York eight months ago. It's better than being forced to jive on the dancefloor, something he's not really fond of.

"Yeah, I was actually scared to come here tonight." Bea shared, chuckling.

"And why is that?" Yoongi asked, slightly leaning closer to hear her over the loud music.

"I heard that staff members from other shows have to pay for their own drinks at after-parties like these, and I just can't do that right now. I have rent to pay!" she exclaimed, making both her and Yoongi laugh. She then rested her chin on her palm on the table, "How about you? Do you enjoy these parties?"

"Not really..." he was quick to answer, not bothering to conceal his dislike for social events. "Everything's too much at parties. The drinks, the people— even the music, it's too loud."

That's another thing he and his ex used to be contrasted about. Sara will always be at parties back in LA because of her job. It's a place for widening her networking in her perspective. Sometimes it is necessary for her to attend, sometimes she just wants to. Yoongi, on the other hand, is not a fan of networking. As long as someone is interested in collaborating with him, he's gonna be fine. But he cannot deny that Sara helped him get more people to work with him whenever she pulled him along with her at parties. She literally introduced him to Art years ago.

Bea chuckled, "Isn't it ironic that you're literally a bass guitarist and you hate loud music?"

"There's a difference between music and what's basically a noise." he joked.

Just when Yoongi took another sip of his drink, there was a sudden change of energy in the room. The music lowered slightly, and the whispers and turning of heads at the main entrance got more noticeable.

"Looks like the woman of the hour has arrived." Bea mused next to him.

Everyone can hear the main door opening, along with the sound of cameras clicking and people calling your name. Then, it was followed by familiar voices laughing and chattering. Yoongi didn't bother to turn around to the doorway until Bea murmured.

"Oh, they arrived together."

He finally glanced at the doorway, catching sight of you at the center. You were glowing with your gold closed-fitting, thin-strapped mini-dress. He wondered if you got cold outside while wearing that glamorous dress, but then he saw Cal next to you, holding a fur that he assumed was yours.

Then, he also noticed who was standing on your left. Harry was holding your waist as you greeted the first people who approached you. You two were a pleasant eyesight, a perfect eyesight for everyone. It was obvious how you two were comfortable with each other. Harry leaned closer to you to whisper something, and you would easily laugh like he was the funniest person in the world. Yoongi looked away, back at minding his business.

"They used to date, didn't they?" Bea whispered next to him.

Yoongi shrugged, "I don't really know."

"You should. You were Harry's bassist during his first album, right? I heard he wrote songs about her in there." she went on.

He raised an eyebrow, "You really did your research, huh?"

"Told ya." she clicked her tongue before looking back to you and Harry. "They still look cute together, don't they?"

"Yeah," Yoongi mindlessly replied even though he was not looking anymore.

He took another scan of the whole room. He stops when he sees you looking at him while everyone in the circle you're in is having conversations. Your eyes traveled from him to the woman next to him. Your eyebrows raised and you looked back at him again. Just when lines form between his brows, Yoongi sees you joining your group's conversation once again. It was a brief and quiet interaction— confusing for Yoongi— that seemed to be only known by you two.

"That was... interesting." Bea, the best observer, smirked into her drink.

The night went on with you and Yoongi being on separate sides of the room. Yoongi introduced Bea to the band, joining them in their booth. He ignored Fred's teasing stare ever since his new writer-friend sat with them. Noah also has his boyfriend with him, adding more fun to their conversations. At some point, Yoongi excused himself from the booth, getting up next to Bea.

"Oh, where are you going?" she asked with her hand on his arm.

"I'll get another drink, want some?" He answered, nodding at her empty glass.

She smiled, "Yeah, sure."

"Don't try to escape the party!" Noah teased him as Yoongi walked away, rolling his eyes at his friend.

He was about to walk to the bar, but decided to stop midway, heading to the restroom first. After doing his business and enjoying the quick solitude, Yoongi rinsed his hand and walked out to the dimly lit entryway. He was not paying much attention to his surroundings, just aiming to get to the brighter entryway to the party, causing him to bump into someone.

"Oh."

It was a light collision, but you were wearing your strappy God-knows-how-high heels, causing you to lose balance a little. He was quick to catch you and help you steady yourself.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," he mumbled.

"Clearly," you looked up with a snarky reply and the same smile you always give him. "Enjoying the night?"

Was it a little unexpected question from you? Yes. But maybe you've been asking everyone that since you are the host of the party. Yoongi wouldn't want to overthink it.

"Yeah, it was fun." he replied like he didn't spend his time talking to people he only knows except for Bea.

You hummed, "Bea seems nice though."

He paused, staring at you for a second, "You know her?"

Shrugging, you replied, "Met her during preparations for the show earlier. She seemed pretty smart and witty."

Were you watching them? Yoongi starts to wonder since he sees you vibing with Harry and your other guests whenever he catches glances at you in the crowd. He cannot tell by your tone if you are just being friendly, casual, or just teasing. But the way you were looking at him got his throat running dry, making him gulp hard.

Before he could figure out what to say next, a voice piped up from one of the small circles near the entryway.

"Oh my gosh, look up!"

Your eyes widened. Yoongi frowned. Right above you, it's one of the few mistletoes in the place. The small circle cheered, getting more attention to their direction.

One of your dancers urged, "You have to kiss now!"

"Ugh, seriously? Do we really have to do this?" you tried to play it off, acting dramatically.

But Yoongi can feel the tension growing in the small space between you, making everything more awkward. All while your concert staff enjoy how you are both caught off guard, knowing your childish and petty relationship behind the scenes.

"It's a tradition!" someone sing-songed.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, "But it's just a plant."

"It is!" you laughing awkwardly.

It felt like high school— or even middle school. Like they were stuck in a game of truth or dare. The cheers for them got louder and clearer. Yoongi only looks at you, trying to read your thoughts. But you were exchanging jokes with the small audience.

“Wow, you guys are really committed to this tradition, huh?” you let out a breathy laugh.

In all honesty, Yoongi would not mind kissing you. Will it be awkward? Yeah, probably. But you both know that the easiest way to end this scenario is to just get over it. A quick kiss, then move on! It's not like everyone will make a big deal out of it.

But why? Why is it so hard?

You took in a slow inhale as you looked at your bassist standing in front of you. How can he still have the same blank expression on his face while you were shitting bricks, trying not to make the atmosphere awkward? You swallowed. Hard. You wondered where's the liquid courage when you need it. Kissing is never a problem with you. Hell, you were the one who suggested putting mistletoes everywhere tonight, unprepared that you are your own victim.

Yoongi's lips parted when you took a step closer to him. So close that he can smell the same sweet vanilla scent he sensed when you gave him a quick hug earlier after the show. He cannot help but study your features as you stand this close to him.

"Let's just do it?" your glossy lips whispered.

"Okay." He replied, almost breathless.

When he unexpectedly yet gently held your waist, you unconsciously held your breath like his soft touch burns your skin. You can still feel the tightness in your chest when his lips brushed against yours, like a feather. It would have been meaningless if one pulled away as soon as your lips touched. But for a half second, no one moved. You felt like leaning it when you felt his slight squeeze on your waist. But before anything could happen, it was over.

Brief and light.

Everyone cheered as you went along in this stupid holiday tradition. Yet the noise was all drawn out in the background as you and Yoongi slowly pulled away from each other.

In that quick second, you swore you felt his warm breath as he pulled away. You blinked, but still, stared back at him. Your heart was beating too fast, you didn't like it.

Yoongi didn't like that when he pulled away, he could not think of anything to say. It was like his brain into a factory reset, resetting everything he knew. He remembered you singing this close to him during one of your shows, thinking you looked like an angel. He still thinks the same thing.

After getting your souls back on the ground, Yoongi let go of your waist and you took a step back. Everyone is still having their reaction. Someone even whistled, making you turn back to the crowd. You forced a laugh.

"Satisfied?" you played it off with the crowd.

Yoongi's jaw clenched as he turned around leaving the entryway, ignoring the warmth that was still lingering on his lips. The image of your face close to his cannot get out of his head. He walked straight to the bar to get another drink.

You, on the other hand, ran back to the restroom. Looking back on yourself in the mirror, your fingers slowly touched your lips as you felt like they had been tingling ever since Yoongi pulled away. Realization sets in as your bite your lower lip.

Fuck, you wanted more.

For the rest of the night, you and Yoongi got some unspoken agreement to not stand within a six-foot distance between them. Yoongi found more comfort, sitting next to Bea, who raised a brow, when he came back to their booth after the kiss. He simply shook his head with that. She took it that he didn't want to talk about it.

"So are you guys playing tonight?" she asked him.

"I don't know, really," Yoongi replied, resting his arm behind her seat.

"I mean, it would be really cool to see you play at this party." she drew circles on the rim of her cocktail's glass before playfully tilting her head to him. "You know, just throwing the idea out there... Only if there are instruments laying around at this par— Oh, wait. There it is!"

Yoongi laughed at her feigned yet coy innocence as she tried to convince them to play. He scanned the room, looking for the instruments Bea was referring to. Instead, he catches you looking at him before quickly turning your back. Something in his stomach flipped before he finally found what he was looking for.

"You alright, angel?"

As soon as you turned your back to your bassist, Harry, who had his hand on the small of your back, asked. You looked up, putting on a smile before nodding. Ever since he said about your nose flaring when you lie, you try to be careful about not saying the truth around him. He smiled, pinching your nose.

"Looks like that kiss did something to you." he leaned into your ear as he teased you.

You moved away, glaring at him, "It's just a mistletoe kiss. Nothing too special about it, H."

"Okay, okay, if you insist." he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, "I feel like you're trying to push an agenda here and I am just gonna ignore that."

Feeling your face warming up, you walked away to distract yourself with something else. It's nothing! You repeated in your head as if to remind yourself. Yoongi seemed to thought the same thing since you saw him getting comfortable with the same girl he's been talking to ever since you arrived.

There is a tightness in your chest. You had to stop one of the waiters who was going around with shots of espresso martini. You took one and immediately let it slid down your throat before returning the glass to the same guy.

Out of the blue, you hear a familiar beat of the drum playing along your song that was playing in the background. The small crowd in the dancefloor started cheering. Turning around, you see your live band on the small stage back in their element. The lights were dim, but you can see your bassist pushing his hair back, which somehow made your throat dry.

"I think we need a vocalist." Noah spoke on the mic.

Your eyes widened, you know he sees you with your shimmering gold dress. And the spotlight that landed on you didn't help for you to hide in the corner of the room. Shaking your hands to your sides, you exhaled before walking up to the stage. The last thing you want now is to stand next to your bassist, especially when you're confused and having a meltdown in your head. But your forever motto plays in your head, fake it 'til you make it.

The band continue playing along with the song that was already playing in the background. You took a sip from a bottle of water Cal handed you before catching up on the song. Shaking it off, you put on your usual popstar persona. The one who's confident, spontaneous, and maybe a little annoying to your bassist.

An idea pops in your head, making you signal to the band to repeat the song from the start. They followed, same with the DJ who turned down the music. Noah began counting and Yoongi almost crashed out in his head when he felt you standing close to him.

Unexpectedly, you lifted his chin, making him look at you. You silently hoped he is under the same spell as you are, not knowing that your touch burns his skin. Looking straight to his eyes, you sung,

"Oh, I leave quite an impression..."

The moment you saw a hint of something familiar in his gaze, you tried to bit off a victory smirk, letting go of him and turning to the crowd. A spur of energy grew quickly in you, knowing that you're not the only one struggling here.

The crowd sings along throughout the whole song. Yoongi was quite relieved that you didn't try to pull something on him again. He knew you got him earlier in the song, hence why you are suddenly more confident now, dancing on stage. Your hips swayed along with the beats and he finds himself almost getting out of tune, distracted. He played it off, adding a cool riff in your song, which made you turn to him.

"Show off." you scoffed in the mic, making the crowd laugh.

"Every time you close your eyes, And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine..."

That gave you another reason to annoy him. Yoongi felt you resting on his sides like he was a wall. You slowly slid down as you sang the bridge before getting up to let the crown scream the line,

"Yeah, I know I've been known to share!"

Yoongi tried to stay as far as possible from you after that performance. Harry sang too after you called him on stage, which didn't really distract Yoongi as they played the song your ex wrote about you. Only Angel. What a fitting title? He thought.

After that, they played a couple more songs before getting back to their booth. He was so ready to get back to the hotel, but he didn't to leave Bea alone, who he enjoyed talking with tonight. She just finished her fourth glass of the night when she noticed the time on her watch.

"Oh, it's almost midnight." She murmured as the corners of her lips dropped.

"And? Are you Cinderella?" Yoongi quipped.

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, "Well, yeah. Fairy Godmother will take away this thick ribbed-knit sweater once I don't show up in Central Park on time."

They laughed. She continued, "I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning. Need to be home before Christmas."

Bea began saying goodbye to everyone. Yoongi said he'll go back to the hotel too, and got a knowing look from his bandmates. He rolled his eyes, lifting his middle finger at them, which made them laugh. The party is dying down anyway. Yoongi saw you saying goodbye to Harry before he left after he performed on stage. Then, he didn't catch sight of you again.

"How about you? Going back to LA for the holidays?" Bea asked as they walked out of the private lounge.

Yoongi clicked his tongue, "I don't know. I have no plans yet."

They stopped on the pavement. The paparazzi are long gone, it's just them and the distant noise of the city.

"Maybe you can come to Seattle with me? Want to meet my parents?" she joked. "But seriously, I enjoyed talking with you, Yoongi."

He smiled, feeling a warmth on his chest, "Me too, Bea."

As if on cue, a yellow cab stopped in front of them. Bea looked at him before getting on her tiptoes to give his cheek a soft peck.

"Contact me. Let's see each other again once we're in the same place again. Okay?" she smiled, hopeful.

He nods at her with a small smile before she gets in the cab, waving at her before the car drives away. For a few seconds, Yoongi stood there alone. He looked down, remembering the last time he went on a date. As an image of Sara came up in his mind, he shook it off while walking away.

Yoongi did not mind walking from the party to the hotel. It was a twenty-minute stroll. He needed it with so many thoughts in his head to organize. His dating game, the mistletoe, Bea, your gold mini-dress that exposed your back, his plans for Christmas, your face when you pulled away, his house back in LA... the kiss.

What the fuck.

He paused just right before the hotel everyone in your staff is staying at. You kept on reeling back in his head, he did not even notice it. Suddenly, he's recalling your scent and the softness of your lips on his. It lingers. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Then, he remembered your own fingers running through his jet-black hair when he was asked to show up during your Bed Chem performance. Your gaze under the red lights. His Adam's apple bobbed as he thought about it.

As he walked into the hotel elevator, Yoongi thought of hopping into a quick shower before sleeping tonight. Maybe it will clear up some of his thoughts. Just when the door began closing, he heard a scream from a distance.

"Please hold it!"

Yoongi, although distracted, followed. He held out his hand between the doors, slowly opening it up again. That's when you showed up, chest heaving, still wearing the same dress Yoongi was thinking about. He squeezed his eyes closed as he turned his head down. The amount of curses he let out in his head.

"Thank you." you tried to say it softly, but you were breathless from running. You push the button to your floor and you notice that he still hasn't clicked his. "What floor?"

"Hmm?"

You turn around and catch him staring at you in a way you've never seen before. You felt your stomach twist. Your eyes moved down to his lips. He was biting too hard, turning the skin red. You watched as he inhaled, lifting his shoulders like he was trying to stay still.

"Same as yours. Twenty-nine," he mumbled.

His voice was too deep, your voice ran dry. You nodded, standing back next to him. Silence hummed for the first few seconds as the door closed. You didn't know that this tension joined you two in this elevator, making the atmosphere heavy and honestly, a little warm. You felt it again. Your lips. They're tingling again.

You can feel that he feels the same way. Your heart starts to beat too fast when you look at him again, still biting down his lip. Hard. Maybe talking would help.

"So, what happened—"

You were not even done with your question about Bea when Yoongi moved forward, crashing his lips on yours. It felt urgent. And hot. Like he was thinking about it for a while now. It was like you broke him.

Your gasp barely made it out of your lips when he swallowed it. He got his one hand on your cheek, while the other was squeezing your waist. His fingers held you down as you squirmed too much.

You don't really have much thought except him. His scent. His lips. His hair. Oh my god, his hair. You ran your fingers on it, tugging on it as you felt the temperature rising in your body. He groaned before pressing you on the elevator wall. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, while your hands explored each others' bodies. Desperation and hunger reeks from the way you two taste each other's tongues.

Wanting to hear him again, you bit on his lower lip. He groaned lowly, feeling the vibration in your chest. You smiled into the kiss. Suddenly, you felt both of his hands on your waist. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the kiss getting gentler.

Your chests were heaving as he pulled away, resting his forehead above yours. You unconsciously licked your lips after seeing how his got redder and glossier due to your own. You noticed his Adam's apple moved up and down, making you meet his eyes.

Ding!

Your heads snapped to the side when the elevator door opened. Yoongi's hands clenched when you slowly stepped back, exiting the elevator wordlessly. He followed behind you while still tasting the strawberry taste of your lipgloss.

Your rooms were right before each other's. Turning your back, you didn't say anything as you opened the door. He didn't either and faced his door, but didn't reached for the key card. The moment he heard your door closed, he turned around.

Fuck it.

Determined, he knocked on your wooden door. And almost in an instant, it opened with you pulling him inside.

note | thank u for @momma1 for commenting this song months ago! 🩷 please consider as the conclusion for the first leg of this tour. the next drabbles will be set after their "tour break". lmk what u think of this one?

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[vunblr]

City Lights and Mountain Hearts

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Slight Angst. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Stuck in the city for Valentine’s week, Bucky grapples with old wounds, self-doubt, and the urge to escape. Luckily, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, he is not alone.

Word Count: 10.5k.

note: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The soft pling of an incoming email pulled her attention away from the cheesy vampire novel she had been working on, pausing her fingers on the keyboard. She furrowed her brows at the notification in the corner of her screen, precisely at the subject line.

URGENT: In-Person Attendance Required – Feb 12–16

Her company rarely required in-person meetings, much less for an entire week. But as her eyes scanned the neatly written email, her heart sank. They were hosting a conference within the city, an important one, and all key personnel were expected to attend and be involved. No exceptions.

“Great,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. Of all the weeks.

She didn’t mind her job -she actually liked it most days- but this? This was just bad timing. Her first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, and instead of spending it in their little town, she’d be stuck in a place she hadn’t missed, surrounded by endless traffic, overpriced coffee, and the constant hum of people who never stopped moving.

She exhaled sharply, leaning back in her chair. Bucky. He wouldn’t say it outright, but she knew how he felt about the city. He barely ever talked about his time there, and when he did, it was with the same tight-lipped, wary expression he wore when someone brought up his past.

He was not going to be thrilled about this.

She had to tell him. The sooner, the better. Then they could figure out what to do, whether they’d spend the week apart or… maybe he could come. By the time the sun had dipped behind the trees, she had made up her mind. She couldn’t change the situation, but she could soften the news.

So, she set the table with two mugs of hot chocolate and cut a generous slice of apple pie for him. Lately, she had been making dinner later and later, caught up in work, but tonight, she wanted to be ready when he walked through the door.

The familiar sound of the lock clicking open made her stomach flip, slightly tightening her fingers around her mug. Bucky stepped inside, shaking off the chill as he pushed the door shut behind him. He slipped his jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair, and then he made his way toward the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of cinnamon and warm apples. He stopped in the doorway, tired blue eyes flicking between the waiting mugs and the careful way she was watching him. He knew that look.

Something was up.

But before he could ask, she gave him a small, hopeful smile and gestured toward the table. “I made pie.”

----

He sat there, munching the pie with his gaze glued to the plate. She knew he was turning it over in his head, weighing every part of the situation the way he always did.

He swallowed, took a sip of hot chocolate, then let out a slow sigh.

"Guess I'll have to go too."

Her brows lifted slightly. "Bucky, you’re not obligated. It’s totally okay if you-"

"I'll drive us there." His tone left no room for argument. "You’re not spendin’ Valentine’s Day alone. I know you’ve been preparin’ somethin’ for that day, even when I told you I didn’t really mind those kinda celebrations."

She watched as he swirled the chocolate with his spoon, his eyes still cast downward like admitting that cost him something.

"Well, um… yeah," she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That was when I thought we'd be here, and-"

"Sweetheart." His voice was softer now, and when he finally looked at her, there was something in his gaze, something that made her heart ache a little. "It’s okay. We’ll go together."

-----

The next morning when she woke up, Bucky was gone.

That was unusual. Saturdays and Sundays were slow mornings, mornings where he lingered in bed longer than he needed to, where she could coax him into staying even when he grumbled about getting up. But today, the space beside her was cold, like he hadn’t been there in hours.

She found the note on the dinner table.

Had some business to take care of. Be back later.

No explanation. No details. Typical.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but let it go. If Bucky needed space, she’d give it to him. Instead, she made herself breakfast, turned on her laptop, and got to work. The sooner she got ahead of things, the more time they’d have in the city. And she wanted them to have time, time to make it feel like something other than just another obligation.

-----

Bucky was in his spot in the woods, where the air was sharp and clean, where the only sounds were the wind through the trees and his own breathing. Where he didn’t have to think.

February wasn’t the best time for chopping wood, but he didn’t care. He just needed to move, to burn through the thing curling tight in his chest.

It had been over fifteen years since he set foot in the city. He had left with a full cast on his arm and never looked back. He should have gone back, just once, just long enough to get the damn thing removed properly. Instead, he’d let the local doctor handle it and told himself it wasn’t worth the trip. Told himself it didn’t mean anything.

Maybe it had. Maybe it had meant more than he let himself admit.

The axe came down with brutal precision, and the wood split instantly. He barely registered it, his mind still circling the same damn thoughts.

The city. He didn’t belong there.

Too many people, too much noise, too many eyes. He already could feel the way the stares would burn into him, the way his skin would crawl under all that attention. He could handle a few looks here in town, the occasional glance from curious folks, the gossip… but the city? That was different. In the city, people watched.

And the worst part? He knew what they’d see.

Some guy who didn’t fit. A man too rough around the edges, too quiet, too scarred.

The axe came down again, unrelenting.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, exhaling hard. What the fuck was he even supposed to wear there? He barely had anything that would blend in. Just one pair of decent jeans and a couple of henleys that might keep him from looking like an uneducated stud.

Might.

-----

He returned just before lunch, the sharp bite of cold still clinging to his skin, the muscles of his arm aching like a bitch but in a way that felt more comforting than exhausting. Chopping wood had helped -somewhat- but not enough to shake the weight pressing down on him.

Then, he stepped into the house, and the scent hit his nose.

Tenderloin. Creamed potatoes.

His favorite.

His stomach grumbled in approval, and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he found her setting the last plate on the table. She glanced up at him with a smile, like she hadn’t just completely read his mind.

“You’re back just in time,” she said, brushing her hands off on a dish towel. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

Bucky huffed, shrugging off his jacket. She knows. Of course, she knew. She always knew.

By the time he sat down, the first bite was enough to make his shoulders loosen. He didn’t say anything, just focused on his plate, on the warmth of the food, on how damn good it tasted.

By the time he finished his third helping, he finally leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose. “Darlin’, you’re gonna have to roll me out of here if you keep makin’ stuff like this.”

She huffed a laugh, stacking a couple of plates. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“It is your fault,” he muttered, lazily twirling his fork. “Cookin’ like this.” He shook his head, tone half-admiring, half-accusatory. “Unfair.”

She chuckled, wiping down the counter before glancing over at him. He looked content, a rare sight when something was eating him. That alone made her move closer, stepping into his personal space.

Bucky barely had time to react before her arms wrapped around him, pressing a warm hug against his side. His chest tensed -not because he didn’t want it, never because he didn’t want it- but because it caught him off guard.

She pulled back slightly, flickering her eyes down, and before he could ask, she reached up and wiped the corner of his mouth with her thumb.

“There was-” she paused, tilting her head. “Potato.”

Bucky stiffened.

His hand came up to his mouth a second too late, rubbing over the spot as a slow warmth crept up his neck.

She just grinned. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He scowled, with the kind of embarrassment that made him shift in his chair and grumble under his breath.

“Not flustered.”

“Uh-huh.”

She kissed his cheek quickly, then stepped away before he could protest further.

Bucky exhaled, rubbing his jaw before dropping his hand with a quiet hmph. He didn’t argue, because what was the point? She was already moving on, making casual conversation as she tidied up.

Then-

“We should probably grab a few things for the trip,” she said lightly, not looking at him as she rinsed a plate. “I was thinking we could head into town tomorrow, and pick out a couple of things.”

Bucky hummed in response, but the food in his stomach suddenly felt heavier.

------

They sat at the kitchen table with a notepad between them, as they jotted down things they’d need for the trip. The list was simple: snacks, water, some groceries.

“I’ll make something for the road,” she said, tapping the pen against the paper. “Something easy to eat while driving. I’ll grab the ingredients tomorrow.”

He nodded, with arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll check the truck. Make sure the tires, oil, and water are good.”

She hummed, writing that down, but then-

“Toilet paper.”

She paused, blinking at him. “What?”

“For the glove compartment,” Bucky said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her lips twitched. “Why?”

His ears went pink. “What d’you mean why? When you gotta go, you gotta go. Even if it’s the middle of the road.”

She pressed her lips together, trying really hard not to laugh. “I mean, fair point.”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath as she added it to the list, the color still lingering on his cheeks. But then she glanced up, chewing on the end of the pen.

“You’ll need to grab some clothes from your cabin.”

That was when the shift happened.

His body didn’t move, but something in his expression tightened, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features.

She noticed immediately.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.

She reached across the table, touching his arm, waiting until he finally looked at her. “One step at a time, alright?”

A beat passed. Then another.

“Yeah,” he muttered, finally. “Guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

She squeezed his arm before letting go, keeping her voice light. “Actually, while we’re on the subject… do you have enough clothes to bring along?”

He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean�� I got stuff. But…” He hesitated. “I probably need some new things.”

She nodded slowly, reading between the lines.

He dreaded shopping. Trying things on, getting questioned by clerks, feeling pressured to buy things he didn’t even like.

“I can go,” she offered. “Pick some things up for you.”

Bucky glanced at her, skeptical. “And if I don’t like ‘em?”

“We return them first thing Monday morning.”

He exhaled, considering. “I don’t want anything fancy.”

“You? Fancy?” She smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He rolled his eyes, and his shoulders eased the tension, just a little.

“…Something blue or black for the top,” he muttered after a pause.

She grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She could sense the weight still pressing down on him, so she steered the conversation into safer waters. “For the food, I was thinking… have you ever tried empanadas?”

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah, actually. Back in the army. One of the guys- his ma would bring ‘em when she visited. He’d share sometimes.”

Her eyes lit up. “Did you like them?”

He nodded, and a hint of a smile softened his features. “Yeah. They were good.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “I was thinking of making a meaty filling. Figured you’d like that.”

His lips twitched, an approving glint in his eyes. “Sounds great.”

She glanced at the clock, noting the time. “Alright, let’s head into town before the shops close. Almost no one opens on Sundays around here.”

Bucky let out a mock groan, pressing a hand to his stomach. “You sure you can get me outta this chair? Ate too much. You’re gonna make me gain weight at this rate.”

She laughed, standing up and stretching. “You’ll look very sexy. And I’ll have more of you to grab.”

That got him. His cheeks flushed a faint red as he ducked his head, suddenly finding the notepad very interesting.

“C’mon, big guy. Let’s go before the town shuts down on us.”

-----

Monday morning, they departed early.

He had insisted on driving, and she let him. Her meeting wasn’t until the afternoon, which meant they had time to get to the Airbnb, settle in, and for her to change before she had to leave. She had suggested a hotel -something nice, something easy- but he had shut down that idea pretty fast.

“Not stayin’ in a damn hotel,” he had muttered.

She knew why. It wasn’t just about avoiding people, it was about having a place that felt less like the city, a place that wasn’t sterile and unfamiliar, a place where he wouldn’t feel watched. An Airbnb was as close to a home as they were going to get in a place that felt otherwise hostile to him.

The trip itself was fine, though Bucky was quieter than ever. She didn’t push, didn’t try to fill the silence, just read her book, occasionally serving him coffee. She figured he needed to settle into his own thoughts and get used to the idea that they were going back to a place he had spent over more than a decade avoiding.

Eventually, she heard it, the low, unmistakable growl of his stomach.

She grinned, closing her book. “Alright, honey. Pull over.”

Bucky grunted. “M’fine.”

“Uh-huh.” She arched a brow. “Pull over. I’ll drive while you eat.”

He gave her a look but didn’t argue, pulling off in the curve. They switched places, and as soon as he grabbed the first empanada, she heard it, the almost joyful sound he made as he took the first bite.

She had eaten earlier, thank God, because somehow, Bucky managed to put away eight in one sitting. And an apple.

As he chewed, thoroughly pleased, she eyed him. “Bucky, are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

He paused mid-bite, squinting at her. “What?”

She grinned. “I mean, the way you’re inhaling those? You’re either growing a small human or preparing for winter hibernation.”

He swallowed, scowling. “They’re good.”

She chuckled, focusing back on the road. “Glad you like ‘em.”

She drove in silence, letting him be.

Bucky had eaten enough to put himself into a food coma, but that wasn’t the only reason he’d drifted off. She knew last night had been restless for him if he had even slept at all. He hadn’t said anything, but she’d felt it in the way he held her a little too long before bed, the way his breathing never fully evened out, the way he had been up before her.

So, when she glanced over and saw him slumped against the window, arms crossed, head tilted slightly, she wasn’t surprised. His chest rose and fell evenly, a few stray crumbs still clinging to his shirt.

She smiled a little and let him sleep.

For a couple of hours, she focused on the road, as the monotone hum of the tires and the quiet murmur of the radio filled the space. But as they got closer to the city, everything changed. The road widened, traffic thickened, and the sky was swallowed by looming buildings.

A sudden blaring horn cut through the quiet.

Bucky jolted awake immediately, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand twitched toward something. His seatbelt, the door, his hip. She wasn’t sure if he was reaching for a weapon or just bracing himself, but for a split second, his eyes were wild, darting around before finally landing on her.

She winced. “Sorry. City drivers.”

He exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face. “Should’ve woken me up. I could’ve driven.”

“And be cranky and starving while stuck in traffic?” She shot him a look before glancing back at the GPS. “Yeah, no thanks.”

He muttered something under his breath, but the fight had already left him. Instead, he turned his head toward the window, taking in the skyline, the crowded sidewalks, and the flashing signs. His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh.

A few more turns, and she finally pulled up in front of their Airbnb. A modest little apartment, nothing flashy, but in a quieter area just ten minutes from where she needed to be.

She shifted into the parking lot and sighed, stretching her fingers. “Alright. Home sweet home.”

Bucky didn’t move at first, just stared up at the building like it might lunge at him.

Then, with a slow exhale, he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for their bags.

-----

They didn’t need a key.

Instead, there was a digital lock with a number combination, which she entered easily after checking the confirmation email. The mechanism beeped, the door clicked open, and Bucky’s stomach twisted.

He didn’t like it.

A code? No actual lock? Who else had access to this thing? The owner, obviously. Maybe the cleaning crew. What if the code hadn’t been changed recently? How hard could it be to override it, to force the door open if someone really wanted to? What if-

Then he felt it.

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her body pressing into his back. A second later, a soft kiss against the space between his shoulder blades.

Bucky exhaled. Slowly.

“I’ll go change and then I’ll leave,” she murmured against his shirt. “Why don’t you take a shower and get comfortable? Or go for a walk if you want.”

He didn’t answer right away, just rested his hand over hers where it rested on his stomach, giving it a small squeeze. Not much, but enough to let her know he’d heard her.

She squeezed back before stepping away, leaving him standing in the doorway as she disappeared inside.

He took another slow breath, glancing at the lock one last time before finally stepping inside after her.

-----

The apartment was… fine.

Smaller than her place back home, but clean, modern. The furniture was sleek, everything in shades of beige and gray, the kind of aesthetic that looked nice in photos but didn’t feel like anyone lived there. Too polished. Too impersonal.

But it was quiet.

That was something, at least.

Bucky paced through the space, scanning everything the way he always did when he entered somewhere new. Windows locked. No weird creaks on the floor. The bathroom door was solid, good enough for some peace. The bedroom was decent -bigger than he expected- but the bedspread was stiff, too neat, too unfamiliar. The walls were bare, and the city noise outside was muffled but ever-present, like a dull hum beneath his skin.

He sighed, rubbing his face. It wasn’t home. But for the next few days, it had to be. He wandered back into the kitchen, running a hand over the smooth counters. It was nice, but something about it felt… unused. Like no one had ever actually cooked in here before.

Well. That was about to change.

Without really thinking about it, he decided he’d make dinner.

They had packed some groceries in a box in the truck’s back, just to be safe, in case they couldn’t find a store right away. He sorted through it, pulling out what he needed.

Dinosaur pasta.

She had laughed at him when he tossed it into the cart back home, but he didn’t care. It was easy and reliable. And this time, he’d give it a twist. She had taught him how to make pink sauce a while ago, and he’d actually paid attention. Figured he’d surprise her with it.

Or so he thought.

The hour of her return came and went.

Bucky stirred the sauce one last time, glancing at the clock. Then the door. No messages.

He exhaled, shaking his head. She’s busy. It’s fine.

But another half hour passed. Then another. The food sat untouched, already cold. His chest tightened. Not with anger, not really, but with something else. Something he didn’t want to name.

Eventually, he gave up. He microwaved himself a portion, eating in silence before rinsing his plate and heading for the bedroom.

He didn’t bother turning on the big lights, just flipped on the TV, letting it play something -anything- to fill the space. He lay back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, eyes on the screen but not really watching.

Then, finally, the sound of the front door opening.

Soft footsteps. A rustling of bags.

A pause.

“…Bucky?”

He didn’t answer right away, just listened. A quiet exhale. Then-

“My phone died,” she said, her voice carried down the hall. “I couldn’t message you. I- I’m so sorry.”

Bucky blinked up at the ceiling, with his lips pressed into a thin line.

For a second, he debated saying it’s fine. But it wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t mad, not exactly, but something swirled in his chest, something that made him feel stupid for waiting, for hoping for something as simple as dinner together.

So instead, he just said, “There’s food in the kitchen.”

A beat of silence. Then soft footsteps, getting closer.

She peeked into the room, eyes full of guilt. “You made dinner?”

Bucky shrugged. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

“You’re so thoughtful, darling,” she murmured, stepping closer. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

He hummed, noncommittal, eyes flicking back to the TV. He wasn’t trying to be cold, but something in him was still knotted up, and he didn’t know how to untangle it just yet.

She didn’t push.

Instead, she peeled off the blazer she had been wearing all day, then unbuttoned her blouse, sighing in relief as she swapped it out for something infinitely more comfortable: one of his old henleys.

She had stolen it from his cabin months ago, claiming it as hers without argument, and at this point, he had just accepted it.

Bucky caught the familiar fabric from the corner of his eye, and for some reason, that tiny thing made his chest ache a little less.

She gave him one last look, a small, tired smile before disappearing into the kitchen to heat up the food.

-----

The hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the countertops as she leaned against them, rubbing her tired eyes. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now, as the scent of the warmed-up pasta made her stomach grumble.

She pulled the plate out, grabbed a fork, and settled at the small dining table. The first bite was perfect, creamy, and rich, with just the right balance of tomato and cream. Even after sitting for hours, it was still good. She smiled to herself. Of course, it was.

She heard a faint noise behind her, and she glanced up to see Bucky lingering in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her eat. He wasn’t brooding, not exactly, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something cautious like he was still holding onto whatever had crawled into his chest earlier.

She chewed slowly, then set her fork down. “You gonna stand there all night, or you wanna come sit?”

Bucky huffed through his nose but pushed off the doorframe, walking toward her with slow, measured steps. He didn’t sit, though. Just leaned against the counter, hands braced on either side of him.

She took another bite, then met his gaze. “It’s really good.”

He hummed like he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

She frowned, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Then, without thinking too hard about it, she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Bucky stilled.

She squeezed gently, running slow circles over the back of his hand with her thumb. “I hate that you waited for me and I wasn’t here.”

He let out a slow exhale, shifting his shoulders. “S’not your fault.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But I still hate it.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicked away like he wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling pressing against his ribs.

Then, finally, he squeezed her hand back. She smiled, tugging lightly until he sighed and gave in, pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.

She took another bite, then set her fork down again. “You know I love this, right?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She gestured to the plate. “You. Making dinner. Thinking about me. I know you don’t think it’s a big deal, but it is to me.”

Bucky swallowed, flexing his fingers around hers. “Yeah?”

She smiled, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles. “Yeah.”

He let out a slow breath for the first time that night, as something in his chest finally let go.

------

The next morning, they went out to walk around and make the most of their time before she had to head to her second meeting. The city was already alive with movement, people rushing to work, street vendors setting up, the noise of conversations and car horns blending into the background noise.

They grabbed something to eat at a small café, sitting by the window, watching the world go by. Bucky was quieter than usual, but she didn’t push. He had agreed to come with her and had stepped into a place he hated for her, and that was already more than enough.

After breakfast, they strolled down a quieter street, hand in hand. She had been enjoying herself -taking in the sights, pointing out things she thought were interesting- when she finally noticed it.

Bucky was stiff.

His jaw was tight, and his free hand curled into a loose fist by his side. But what really gave him away was the way his eyes moved, scanning their surroundings, tracking every person that passed by.

She squeezed his hand gently. “What’s wrong?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Nothin’.”

She arched a brow. “Bucky.”

His shoulders shifted, and after a pause, he sighed. “…I feel observed.”

Her heart clenched a little. She knew what this was, his self-consciousness creeping in, his social anxiety pressing against his ribs, telling him he didn’t belong here, seeing threats where there were none.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “I don’t perceive it.”

He made a quiet, disbelieving sound, but before he could argue, she smirked. “Although, I do think there’s a bunch of women looking at you.”

That startled him. He blinked down at her. “What?”

“You’re too handsome,” she simply said, like it was a fact.

Bucky groaned, shaking his head. “‘Guess only you see that, darlin’.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Bucky, I’m gonna say this once, because I really don’t want you all cocky later, but… you are a gorgeous man.”

His brows pulled together, like the very idea confused him. Before he could brush it off, she pressed on.

“I know you don’t see yourself like that. Not anymore. But you are,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “So believe me when I tell you that probably six out of ten women we’ve passed would say yes if you asked them out.”

Bucky’s ears tinged pink, and his lips parted slightly before he clamped his mouth shut, looking away. He shifted his weight, clearing his throat like that would somehow push the embarrassment down.

“…That’s not a real statistic,” he muttered.

------

He sat on a park bench, stretching his legs out as she wandered over to a street vendor. She was buying caramelized peanuts, chatting with the old man behind the cart, moving her hands as she gestured about something.

He let his gaze stray through the park.

A pair of guys in army uniforms caught his attention as they strolled past, laughing easily, and moving with confident steps. One of them playfully nodded toward a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench, earning a few shy smiles in return.

Bucky’s chest stiffened.

Once upon a time, he had been one of those guys.

A menace on his days off, all easy charm and reckless energy making the most of whatever time he had before duty called again. He had forgotten, sometimes, what that version of himself looked like.

But then-

The unending campaigns. The things he had to do. The things he couldn’t take back.

His mind yanked him somewhere else, somewhere darker.

The storage house. The explosion. The searing heat of fire before everything went black, then worse, the crushing weight, the sickening snap of bone, the panic clawing up his throat as he realized he was trapped.

Dying buried alive.

Rainwater trickled through the cracks, dampening the dust, and turning it into mud.

His breathing fastened and his gaze dropped to the pavement, curling his fingers into his palms. The world around him dimmed, his body here but his mind there, stuck between then and now.

Then-

A touch. Soft. Soothing.

His head jerked up, with an unfocused gaze.

She crouched beside him, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, with a concerned expression.

And when his eyes met hers, she sucked in a small, worried breath, because she had never seen that look in his eyes before.

Vacant. Haunted.

Lost.

-----

She didn’t let go of his hand the entire walk back.

Bucky didn’t protest, but he didn’t say much either. His grip was solid, but his steps were stiff, and his jaw was locked so tight she could see the muscle twitching. He kept his eyes forward, scanning the sidewalk, shoulders squared like he was bracing for something, though she wasn’t sure what.

She kept her voice soft. “Almost there.”

He hummed, barely acknowledging it.

She didn’t push.

The city noise surrounded them. The honking of cars, the chatter of people passing by, the echo of hurried footsteps against the pavement, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on him, on the way he was still somewhere else, even as they turned the last corner and the building came into view.

When they reached the door, she entered the code with one hand, still holding onto him with the other. The lock clicked. She pushed the door open, stepping inside first before turning to look at him.

Bucky exhaled slowly like he was only now allowing himself to breathe.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on.”

He didn’t move at first, flicking his eyes past her like he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross the threshold. But then, slowly, he stepped inside.

She shut the door behind him.

“Wanna lie down?” she asked softly.

Bucky didn’t answer right away, but then he nodded, just once.

She guided him toward the bedroom, with her hand still loosely curled around his. The moment they reached the bed, she lay down first, settling against the pillows. He hesitated for only a second before following, shifting until he found the place he always found soothing, his head resting in the valley of her breasts, arms wrapped firmly around her waist.

She exhaled, letting her fingers trace slow, lazy circles across his back.

He said nothing, but she felt it, the way his body, little by little, started to relax against her. The tension in his shoulders softened, his breathing evened out, and his grip on her went from holding on to simply holding.

The minutes passed on, and the only sound in the room was the soft tick of the clock.

“You’re gonna be late,” he grumbled, muffled against her body.

She hummed, drifting her fingers up into his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, soothing strokes. “Don’t care.”

Bucky huffed.

“They haven’t even deposited my travel allowance yet,” she added. “They can wait a few more minutes.”

He sighed against her, and she felt it, the subtle way he melted just a little more, sinking into the warmth of her touch, the safety of her body against his.

“Tell you what,” she murmured, still tracing slow circles over his scalp. “Since you’re so tense, I’ll give you a nice massage when I get back. What do you think?”

Bucky nuzzled against her chest, exhaling a breath that was just shy of a sigh. “I’d be real fucked up if I said no to that.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Perfect.”

Her hands never stopped moving, going down to rub at the knots in his shoulders, then ghosting along the base of his neck.

After a moment, she shifted slightly beneath him. “Will you be okay alone in here?”

He nodded against her.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

He would be fine. The walls weren’t closing in, the noise from outside was manageable, and he had a place to retreat to, away from the chaos of the city. Technically, he’d be fine.

But deep down, he knew what was coming.

She would leave. The apartment would get too quiet. His thoughts -the ones he had been trying to push down since the park- would creep back in, crawling up his throat, and pressing against his ribs.

And that dark, familiar pull would be there, whispering its old, ugly promises.

It was one of his last dirty secrets.

One he was ashamed to reveal to her.

He had gotten better -so much better- but the temptation never really went away. Sometimes it was just a flicker, something he could ignore. Other times…

Like now.

His fingers twitched against her waist, resisting the urge to reach for his phone, to make the order before she even left. Just one bottle. Just to take the edge off.

“I won’t be gone long,” she reassured him.

Bucky swallowed. Nodded again.

“I know,” he murmured, hoping she couldn’t hear the lie beneath his words.

-----

The second the door shut behind her, the apartment felt different.

Empty.

He stayed in bed for a moment, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. The warmth her body had left behind was fading, replaced by the cool feeling of being alone.

He took a slow breath. Let it out.

Then he sat up, rubbed a hand down his face, and reached for his phone.

It wasn’t even a debate, not really. The thought had been there since the park, lurking in the back of his mind, and now, without her here to distract him, it clawed its way forward.

Just a bottle. Just a drink. Just to settle things.

His fingers moved before he could talk himself out of it. A few taps, an automatic confirmation. Done.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the knock on the door came quicker than expected. He stood slowly, crossing the room, hesitating just for a second before pulling the door open.

The delivery guy barely looked at him, just handed over the bag, muttering a quick have a good one before turning away.

Bucky shut the door and stared down at the weight in his hands.

For a long moment, he didn’t move.

Then, he walked into the kitchen and set the bottle down on the counter. He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning away. His muscles ached from how tense he’d been all morning

He’d take a shower first.

But the water didn’t wash away his thoughts.

His mind was on a battlefield, mud, blood, fire, and screams. The weight of debris pinning him down. The searing pain in his left arm, so sharp it had felt like his body was being torn in half.

And then… the hospital.

The look on the officer’s face when he was told, flatly, clinically, that he was expendable. That his sacrifice had been expected. Calculated. That they would move forward without him.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the shower tiles. He had fought for his country. Given everything. And when he needed them most, they had tossed him aside like a broken weapon.

Then she walked away.

He tousled his hair, exhaling sharply as the memory crawled forward, uninvited.

She had grown distant. At first, it was subtle: longer pauses between messages, a clipped voice when she finally answered his calls. Then came the excuses. How busy she was. How complicated things werefor her. How she needed time.

Eventually, she stopped answering at all.

Her friend had been the one to deliver the final blow. “It was difficult for her,” she had said, carefully avoiding his eyes. “She’s not in a place to handle… your situation. She’s struggling too, you know.”

His situation.

His problems.

His disability.

He turned off the water, with a rough movement. He grabbed a towel, rubbing it over his face before wrapping it around his waist.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, his mind was still in shambles, raw and restless, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Then his eyes landed on the counter.

The bottle was still there, untouched. Waiting.

Bucky cursed under his breath.

His fingers twitched, and before he could think too hard about it, he grabbed the bottle and poured himself a glass. He stared at his distorted reflection on the smooth, amber-colored surface for a while.

But he didn’t drink.

Instead, he turned away, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He needed boxers. Maybe if he did something -even something as simple as getting dressed- it would take the edge off.

He shuffled through his suitcase, pushing aside neatly folded shirts, a couple of henleys, and his new corduroy pants. No boxers. He frowned.

Then he remembered, she had packed them in hers.

With a sigh, he crouched next to her bag, unzipping it and rummaging inside. His fingers brushed against some fabric, then something firmer, a box.

Cardboard. Smooth.

Curious, he lifted it out.

It was a large, homemade chocolate box from Winnifred’s, the local baker back home. He recognized it instantly.

He swallowed hard, looking down at the box in his hands, tightening his grip around it while he walked to the living room.

She had planned this, before the trip. She had thought of him, of making this first Valentine’s together special, even when she knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who cared for fancy celebrations.

And he knew -of course he knew- she had probably planned something else, something back home. Maybe dinner at his cabin, decorated secretly while he worked, something small but theirs alone. But the trip had messed everything up, throwing them into this place that didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like home.

Still, she had brought a little piece of it with her, for him.

Bucky exhaled shakily, blinking hard. His gaze flicked toward the counter, to the glass of whiskey waiting for him, and the bottle looming beside it.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then he walked over, grabbed the glass, and dumped it in the sink. The sharp splash of liquid against metal filled the silence, followed by the pour as he emptied the rest of the bottle down the drain.

He didn’t watch it disappear. Just threw the empty bottle in the trash, turned, and sat heavily on the couch. Then, he opened the chocolate box with careful fingers, staring at the neat rows inside, hovering his index over them for a moment before he grabbed one.

This would do.

He took a bite, letting the rich sweetness melt on his tongue.

Yeah.

This would do.

-----

The first thing she saw when she stepped through the door that afternoon, was Bucky sprawled on the couch, snoring softly.

Her surprise chocolate box rested almost empty over his stomach, and his fingers -coated with a brownish glint- dangled near the floor. His towel had loosened slightly, barely hanging onto his waist, exposing just enough skin to make her stare longer than necessary.

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling.

She almost took a picture.

Almost.

But then, she remembered.

The way he had been before she left, lost in his own mind, dealing with something he didn’t want to express. It wouldn’t be strange if he had some kind of oral anxiety attack, needing something -anything- to keep himself calm.

So instead, she tiptoed, lifting the nearly empty chocolate box from his stomach and setting it aside. Then, she grabbed a blanket, draped it carefully over him, and turned down the lights.

With a small sigh, she slipped into the bedroom and pulled out his old henley. Clearly, they weren’t going out for the day.

She then moved into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves as she started pulling out ingredients for dinner. She wasn’t in a rush, just moving through things, deciding what to make while Bucky got his rest.

It didn’t take long before she felt it.

The familiar warmth of strong arms wrapping around her waist. A heavy, solid weight pressed against her back. The slow, hot breath against her ear.

“Isn’t it the massage lady,” Bucky murmured, sleepily.

Before she could respond, he pressed a lazy kiss to the side of her neck. Then another. Slow, unhurried, tasting her, feeling her warmth beneath his lips.

She shivered, tilting her head just slightly, giving him more access. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

He hummed against her skin, tightening his grip on her waist. “Woke up.” Another kiss, just below her jaw. “Found somethin’ better to do.”

She exhaled a soft laugh, resting a hand over his. “That so?”

“Mm.” His lips dragged lower, pressing against the curve of her shoulder. “Still gotta cash in that massage.”

Her smile widened. “Oh, do you?”

“Mhmm.” He nuzzled against her skin, voice dropping to a rasp. “Feelin’ all sorts of tension, sweetheart.”

She smirked, reaching back to run her fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “Well, we did say we’d make the most of our time here…”

Bucky hummed his approval, as his hands started to wander, and his breath blew warm and slow against her pulse.

Dinner could wait.

She turned in his arms, her body still glued to his. Her hands slid up slowly, threading her fingers behind his neck, playing lazily with the hairs at his nape.

“Well, mister,” she murmured, tilting her head. “You’re already in your birthday suit… where exactly are you aching?” she asked, playfully pressing herself flush against him, against the unmistakable evidence of his interest, thick and hard against her stomach.

Bucky let out a low, rumbling sound, tightening his hands around her waist. “You really gotta ask?”

She grinned, dragging her nails lightly over the back of his neck. “Mmm… just making sure. Wouldn’t wanna miss a spot.”

His grip flexed, pulling her even closer, grinding his erection against her. “Sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep and heat, “if you keep talkin’ like that, I’m afraid we’ll skip the massage.”

“Oh?” she hummed, trailing her fingers up the back of his neck, scratching lightly over his scalp. “And here I was, all ready to… work on you.”

She let her one hand slide between them, dipping lower, palming his cock through the towel.

Bucky inhaled sharply, and his whole body tensed as her grip tightened just slightly, teasing, testing. His head tipped forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“Darlin’,” he warned, with a strained voice

She smiled, leaning in just enough for her lips to brush his. “What?” she murmured, giving another slow, deliberate squeeze.

Bucky groaned, a deep, needy sound. “You’re real close to losin’ that henley.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “That a threat or a promise?”

“Both,” he growled, then kissed her like he meant it.

His lips crashed against hers, slow at first, but that control didn’t last long. Not with the way her fingers kept working him through the towel, sending heat curling low in his stomach, making his knees damn near weak.

He groaned again into her mouth, slipping one hand down to grab a handful of her thigh, pulling her flush against him. The pressure of her palm massaging his cock, the way her body molded to his, it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her lips, with ragged breaths.

She smirked, dragging her nails lightly down his back. “You’re so tense, baby,” she teased, voice dripping with false innocence.

He huffed a laugh, slipping his hands slipping beneath the henley, warm, coarsed palms gliding over the bare skin of her thighs, up to her ass. He gave a firm squeeze, pulling her against his aching cock. “Yeah? Pretty sure you’re the one causin’ the tension.”

She gasped softly, and he took advantage of the sound, catching her lips again, and swallowing every little noise she made as he pressed her back against the counter.

Her fingers hooked into the knot of his towel, tugging, loosening it, but before she could pull it away completely, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Oh, no,” he rasped, dragging his lips down her neck. “You first, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he slipped his fingers under the hem of her nightie and started sliding it up, as his mouth trailed lower, his breath hot against her skin.

“B-but the idea was to make you feel good,” she pouted, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it.

He chuckled, deep and lazy, vibrating against her skin. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dragging his lips up to her ear. “This is gonna make me feel real good.”

His fingers skimmed over her bare thighs, slipping higher, slowly and deliberately. Then he tugged the nightie over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. He leaned back just enough to take her in, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Look at you,” he murmured, tracing a hand down her side, rough fingers ghosting over soft skin. “So damn beautiful.”

Her lips parted, her body already melting into his touch, but he wasn’t done yet.

Bucky bent slightly, gripping the backs of her thighs and effortlessly lifting her onto the counter. His hands slid up, spreading her knees apart as he stepped between them. He barely gave her a chance to breathe before his lips were on hers again, his hands gripping her thighs, keeping her close, keeping her his.

She shifted against him, pressing closer, brushing her bare skin against his, and fuck, he could lose himself in this.

In her.

After the kind of morning he had, after the things clawing at the edges of his mind, he knew he had been short with her. He hadn’t meant to be, she was one of the few good things he had since everything went to hell, and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

And yet, she had still come to him. Still had covered him with a blanket, made sure he was comfortable and had started making dinner instead of being upset that he had shut down on her.

He didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve her.

Bucky exhaled against her lips, dragging his hands up her sides before dipping lower, catching the band of her panties between his fingers. “These,” he murmured, snapping the waistband lightly, “are in my way.”

She let out a breathless little laugh, lifting her hips just enough to help him. He wasted no time, sliding them down her legs, letting the fabric hit the floor before running his hands back up her thighs, spreading her open for him.

His mouth traced along her jaw, nipping at the skin just below her ear before whispering, “You really are too damn good to me, sweetheart.”

She sighed, tilting her head to let him continue his path down her neck. “Maybe,” she teased. “Or maybe you just deserve it.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he dropped to his knees.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place. He could lose himself here.

He would.

He didn’t wait for permission.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, slow and deliberate, feeling the way she shivered beneath his touch. He wanted to take his time, to savor, to make up for earlier, not just for himself. She deserved that.

One of his hands slid up, fingers spreading over her tummy, pressing gently as if to hold her steady. The other trailed lower, teasing along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, watching with satisfaction as her breath hitched.

Then, finally, finally, he leaned in.

He flicked his tongue against her, just barely, a featherlight touch that made her jolt. He smirked, gripping her hips to keep her still, then did it again, a little firmer this time. “Fuck,” he muttered against her, voice rough with want. “You always taste so good.”

She whimpered, as her fingers found their way into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. That sent a shiver straight to his cock, and made him need to hear more of those sweet little sounds from her lips.

He licked a slow, teasing stripe up her slit, circling her clit with the tip of his tongue before pulling away just enough to blow cool air against her. The way she whined, the way her hips bucked up into his mouth, fuck, she was perfect.

He groaned, gripping her thighs as he dived back in, pressing his tongue against her pussy, stroking her just right, slipping lower to taste all of her before dragging back up to flick again her swollen, aching clit.

Her thighs clenched around his head, and he loved it. He wanted it.

He slipped a finger inside her, groaning at how warm and wet she was, at how she clenched around him, so tight and perfect. He curled it just right, adding a second, pumping them slowly, in time with the strokes of his tongue.

“Bucky-” she gasped, tightening her grip on his hair, legs trembling slightly.

That only spurred him on.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, voice thick with hunger. “Let me have it.” He pleaded, suckling at her clit with intent. He didn’t stop, not until she was moaning his name, arching against him, coming undone beneath his mouth, just the way he wanted.

Her thighs instinctively closed again around his head, rolling her hips, searching, chasing his mouth as she neared that blissful edge.

Her grip on his hair was tight, almost desperate, and fuck, he loved it. Loved the way she came undone for him, loved how she let go with him.

“Bucky! oh God-”

His name tumbled from her lips, breathless, wrecked, and that was all it took. Her thighs trembled, her back arched as the pleasure crashed over her, her walls clenching his fingers tightly as she came apart.

He didn’t stop. Not yet. He worked her through it, lapping up every little aftershock, basking in the way her body pulsed, how she shuddered against him.

Only when she whimpered, overstimulated, did he finally ease up, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh.

He looked up at her, pupils blown wide. “Think that did more for me than it did for you,” he rasped, smirking as he ran his hands over her still-trembling thighs.

She blinked down at him, dazed, as she tried to catch her breath.

Then, with a lazy, satisfied smile, she tugged at his hair. “Get up here,” she murmured. “You’re not done yet.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, with dark intent.

Before she could even catch her breath, his lips crashed against hers, hungry, desperate, gripping her waist almost brutishly as he pulled her off the counter. She barely had time to register the shift before he spun her around, bending her against the cool surface.

A gasp left her lips as she splayed her hands against the counter for balance.

He groaned at the sight in front of him, before running his hands down her back, over the curve of her ass, squeezing once before nudging her legs apart with his knee.

“Look at you,” he rasped, pressing his chest to her back, letting her feel every inch of him, hard and aching against her. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He kissed the back of her neck, trailing his lips down to her shoulder as one hand slid between her legs, fingers slipping through the mess he had made.

Still soaked for him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, as he stroked her, feeling her jolt beneath his touch.

She whimpered, shifting back against him, pressing into his fingers, wordlessly pleading for more.

Bucky smirked against her skin. “You want me inside, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” she gasped, pushing back against him again.

That was all he needed.

He gripped her hip with one hand, guiding himself with the other, teasing her, just barely pressing in. Then, with a low growl, he snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside her in one deep, slow thrust.

A broken moan escaped her lips, fingers gripping the counter as he stretched her, filled her, claimed her.

Bucky clenched his jaw, trying real hard to keep it together, to give her a second to adjust, but fuck, she was so warm, so tight, squeezing him just right-

Then she pushed her hips back against him, wordlessly demanding more.

And who the hell was he to deny her?

Bucky growled, and set a brutal pace, determined to make her feel every inch of his cock.

He didn’t speak.

He just took.

His hands were bruising on her hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks, using the leverage to pull her onto his cock with deep, brutal thrusts. There was no teasing, no slow buildup, just raw, desperate need, pouring out of him with every snap of his hips.

Each stroke drove her forward, and her fingers slipped against the counter as she struggled to hold herself up. The force of his movements knocked the breath from her lungs, and made her whimper and moan, leaving her body pliant beneath his.

He was relentless.

He stretched her wide, filled her with every rough thrust, dragging against that sensitive spot inside her that made her keen. Her walls clenched down around him, and he responded with a ragged, guttural groan, tightening his fingers, as his pace grew even more frenzied.

He wasn’t holding back.

The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the kitchen, mixing with her gasps, and her breathless cries. He drove into her, each movement fueled by something dark and desperate, something he couldn’t put into words.

Because right now, he wasn’t thinking about anything except how good she felt around him, how perfectly she took him, how much he needed this, needed her.

Her legs trembled, and her body arched against him, as every hard thrust sent the pleasure curling up her spine. She was close, her breaths turning into sharp, broken moans, her body tightening around him. The delicious pressure and wet heat threatened to undo him, but he gritted his teeth, determined to make this last.

He didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

His rhythm turned rougher, harder, as he chased the only thing that made sense, the feeling of her falling apart beneath him. One hand snaked between her sweat-slicked thighs to rub tight, hard circles over her throbbing clit.

When she came, she practically sobbed in pleasure, throwing her head back in a silent scream. Her walls clenched around him like a silken fist, massaging his throbbing cock and pushing him dangerously close to the edge. But he wasn’t done.

Not yet.

With a growl, he kept going, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her up as he kept fucking into her, hard and deep, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from her wrecked body, until all she could do was take it.

The countertop creaked beneath the force of his thrusts, and her body jerked with every sharp snap of his hips like a ragdoll. She was overstimulated, so sensitive, but she took it, let him use her, let him chase his own pleasure the way he needed to.

His fingers dug into her skin again, and his pace turned erratic, desperate, sweat slicking his chest as he buried himself inside her again and again. His breath was ragged, and his jaw clenched so tight it ached, while his head swam in her intoxicating warmth, the one thing that calmed him, that kept him from spiraling.

His grip bruised as he slammed into her one last time, burying his cock deep as his body seized. His breath caught, a strangled groan escaped his throat as he spilled inside her, grinding his hips against her rear, making sure every last drop was pumped deep inside her waiting body. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and only the sound in the space was their ragged breathing.

Then, finally, Bucky exhaled, loosening his grip just enough to press his forehead to the back of her neck.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t know what to say.

So instead, he just held her -his anchor, his salvation- until his heart stopped racing and the weight pressing down on his chest finally, finally lifted.

She stood there, trying to catch her breath, with her body still trembling as Bucky held her close, his chest rising and falling against her back. He was still nestled between her legs, slick walls cradling his spent, twitching cock.

She rested her forehead against her folded arms, as a shaky laugh escaped her lips. “Well, Buck… that was… something else,” she breathed out, trying to catch her breath.

Bucky huffed a quiet, almost satisfied sound. He hadn't meant to be so rough, so desperate, but something about what happened, about the way she let him have her, the way she took everything he gave, made it impossible to hold back.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he finally murmured.

She smiled against her arm. “No. Far from it,” she whispered, turning her head just enough to catch his eyes, with a teasing glint. “I suspected it, but didn’t know you had that in you.”

His lips brushed the back of her neck, a quiet apology hidden in his touch. He wanted to say something, to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he needed her, but the words tangled heavily in his throat.

As Bucky carefully pulled out of her, a sharp gasp left her lips. His hands stayed on her hips, but his gaze dropped immediately to where they were still connected, to the way his cum slowly trickled down her inner thigh, glistening against her skin.

Something primal and possessive bloomed in his chest.

Before he could think twice about it, he reached down, swiping his thumb through the mess, gathering every drop before pushing it back inside her with slow, deliberate pressure.

She gasped, jolting, gripping hard at the counter. “Bucky-”

“Shhh,” he shushed, sliding his free hand up her spine, as his lips brushed the nape of her neck. “Can’t let it go to waste, sweetheart.”

Her breath came out in a shudder, and her legs shook as he pushed his thumb deeper, as if claiming her all over again.

Satisfied, he finally withdrew, fingers glistening as he traced lazy circles over her overstimulated pussy, smirking when she whimpered at the touch.

He was about to tease her -about how sensitive she was, how good she looked wrecked for him, slapping her softly- when her breathless voice cut through the haze.

“I take it as you liked the chocolates,” she teased, turning around in his arms and pressing a slow kiss to his sternum. “this was a very pleasant way of saying thanks”

His hands slid back down to her hips, gripping firmly, fingers pressing into the flesh he had spent the last half an hour worshipping. He hummed, satisfied, tilting his head as he looked down at her. “You wanted me to like ‘em, didn’t you?”

She sighed, pressing her face briefly against his chest, before pulling back just enough to cradle his face with one hand. “I’m glad you did,” she whispered.

He exhaled, leaning into her touch.

“And I’m sorry that we’re stuck here until Friday.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, flicking his gaze away for half a second before settling back on her.

“S’not your fault,” he muttered.

She pressed another kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Still.” As she spoke, her fingers trailed up his arm, slow and deliberate, mapping the rough ridges and scarred skin that told stories of pain and survival.

Bucky tensed beneath her touch.

It was instinctive, something ingrained so deep in him he didn’t even think about it. His scars weren’t something he liked being noticed, much less touched. But she had never treated them like something to be ashamed of, never recoiled or hesitated.

And now, instead of pulling away, she leaned in, brushing her lips over the marred skin of his shoulder before playfully nipping at it.

His breath halted.

She grinned against his skin. “You know… I still owe you that massage,” she murmured, pressing her fingers into the firm muscle of his bicep, kneading it gently.

He exhaled sharply, not in discomfort, but in something else. Something warmer. She had a way of disarming him, stripping away the self-consciousness he didn’t even realize he was holding onto.

His lips twitched, as his hands found their place on her hips again. “You’re not gonna let that go, huh?”

She hummed, dragging her lips along his shoulder, hands working their way up to his neck. “Nope.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. His tension was gone, replaced by something softer. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing her hip. “Guess I’m all yours.”

She took his hand, guiding him toward the bedroom.

As they walked, Bucky’s free hand reached for the nearly empty chocolate box on the table, smiling to himself.

She raised a brow. “Still hungry?”

His little smile deepened, something dark, wicked flickering behind his eyes as he squeezed her fingers in his.

“Somethin’ like that,” he murmured, winking an eye.

She swallowed, as heat prickled at the base of her spine, suddenly very aware that whatever he had planned… she’d be the one melting like chocolate before the night was over.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[isaadore]

AS SURE AS THE SKY IS BLUE LUKE HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing luke hughes x reader

SUMMARY luke has never been more certain about anything in his life. he wants to marry you, and he wants to do it now. never mind that he’s only 21 or that everyone around him keeps asking if he’s sure. he’s sure. he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. word count 0.8k

warnings fluff, mentions of marriage

note requested 🤍

LH43 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

LUKE HAD ALWAYS been impatient when it came to things he wanted. His NHL debut? He had been counting down the days since he was a kid. Living on his own? He was practically throwing his bags into his new apartment before his mom could make him a goodbye breakfast. But this was different. This wasn’t just something he wanted. It was something he knew.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he had said one night, voice muffled against your shoulder as he lay on top of you on the couch. It was the off-season, and he had spent nearly every day like this, clinging to you like you were his lifeline, soaking up every second before he had to go back to New Jersey.

You had laughed, fingers softly threading through his hair. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head, resting his chin on your chest so he could look at you properly. His eyes were unwavering. “I’m serious.”

Your heart had stuttered at the way he said it. Not like a question, not like a possibility. He had said it like a fact.

“Luke,” you had started. He was 21, and you were barely older. People your age didn’t just get married.

He shut you up with a kiss. “I know what you’re gonna say,” he mumbled, lips brushing against yours. “And I don’t care. I love you. I want to marry you. Why should we wait?”

You hadn’t had an answer for that. You still didn’t.

The engagement wasn’t a huge, elaborate ordeal. No viral-worthy flash mobs or expensive candlelit dinners. Just the two of you, standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, his hands slightly clammy as he pulled out a ring and said, “Marry me?” like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And because it was Luke, and because you loved him, and because why should we wait? you had said yes.

Which led to now. Sitting in a booth at a restaurant, a dinner meant to celebrate the engagement turned into an intervention.

“You’re sure about this?” Jack asked, arms crossed over his chest. It was the third time he had asked.

“Yes.” Luke shot him a glare before looking around the table. His parents, his brothers, his teammates. All of them were looking at him like he had just announced he was dropping hockey to become a circus performer.

“It’s just…” Quinn paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “You’re young, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So most people don’t get married at 21,” Jack cut in, throwing his hands up.

“Well, I’m not most people,” Luke shot back.

Beside him, you squeezed his hand under the table. You had expected this. Luke had, too. His family was supportive, but they were also realists. And realists didn’t get engaged at 21.

Ellen sighed. “Sweetheart, we’re not saying you shouldn’t marry her.” She gave you a warm, reassuring smile before turning back to her son. “We just want to make sure you’re thinking this through.”

“I have thought this through,” Luke said, exasperated. “For months.”

“Months,” Jack repeated like it was a ridiculous amount of time.

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Guys. Look at me.” He gestured to himself. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

Jack opened his mouth. “Do not answer that,” Luke warned before he could say anything.

A chuckle passed around the table, but the concern was still there, lingering in the air.

“Luke,” Jim finally spoke, calm and measured, like he was trying to keep the peace. “Marriage isn’t something you rush into.”

Luke softened, taking a breath before responding. “I know that,” he said. “But I also know that I love her. And I don’t want to wait years just because people think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He turned to you then, eyes searching yours, needing you to back him up.

You squeezed his hand again and smiled. “I know it seems fast. But we love each other, and we’re happy. That’s what matters, right?”

Ellen exhaled, smiling softly. “It is what matters.”

Jack still looked skeptical, but he leaned back in his seat, conceding. “Alright. Fine. But if you ever need an out, just say the word.”

Luke rolled his eyes but grinned. “Not happening.”

And just like that, the tension eased. His parents let it go, Jack stopped grilling him, and the dinner turned into what it was supposed to be: a celebration.

Later, as you walked hand in hand toward the car, Luke tugged you closer. “You still sure about this?” he teased, bumping his nose against yours.

You grinned. “As sure as the sky is blue.”

Luke beamed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

Neither could you.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ LH43 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.4

part 3 here

social media au

•

f1gossip our favorite female driver has been seen last night hanging out with McLaren driver Oscar Piastri. Sources that were there confirm they were “intimate” and were having fun the whole night. Is there a new relationship inside the paddock? Only time will tell 🤭

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username1 YASSS

username2 plssss let it be trueeee 😭

username3 rue, when was this????

username4 I CANT

•

real life

It was supposed to be a simple dinner. A quiet meal after media duties, something to kill the time before heading back to your hotel. But then, one drink turned into two, and two turned into a spontaneous decision to go out.

“Come on, it’s Monaco,” Oscar had said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Are you really going to waste a night like this?”

You had laughed, rolling your eyes but ultimately agreeing.

Which is how you found yourself at one of Monaco’s most exclusive clubs, the bass of the music vibrating through your chest as the two of you slipped past the velvet ropes and into the chaos of the dance floor.

The club was packed—drivers, celebrities, and high-profile figures everywhere you looked. But for once, you didn’t care. You weren’t thinking about racing, about the season, or about the fact that your ex was probably somewhere in this very building.

Instead, you were focused on the boy beside you, who was grinning as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the bar.

The bartender recognized Oscar immediately, sliding a drink toward him before turning to you with a questioning glance. You ordered something strong, something that burned just enough to make you forget about all the noise inside your head.

“Cheers,” Oscar said, clinking his glass against yours.

“To what?” you asked.

He thought for a moment before shrugging. “To reckless decisions.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Now you sound like Lando.”

Oscar smirked, leaning in slightly. “Difference is, I won’t regret them in the morning.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could unpack what they meant, the music shifted. A new song, louder and faster, filled the space, and without thinking, you grabbed Oscar’s wrist and pulled him toward the dance floor.

Neither of you were good dancers, but that didn’t seem to matter. The energy of the club was infectious, and soon, you were lost in it—hands in the air, bodies moving with the music, laughter slipping past your lips as Oscar twirled you around dramatically.

Somewhere in the haze of flashing lights and pounding music, you felt free. No cameras, no expectations, no weight of being the first female driver in a male-dominated sport. Just you and Oscar, caught in the moment.

At some point, his hands found your waist, steadying you as you stumbled slightly. You looked up at him, your breath hitching slightly at the way his blue eyes searched yours.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

You nodded, but your pulse was racing for an entirely different reason now.

After what felt like hours, you both stumbled outside, laughing as the cool night air hit your flushed skin. The streets of Monaco were alive, filled with people moving between clubs and casinos, their voices blending into the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore.

Oscar was still holding your hand, and you didn’t pull away.

“That was fun,” you admitted, leaning against the railing that overlooked the water.

He nodded, standing beside you. “Yeah, it was.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that only came when you didn’t feel the need to fill the space with words.

Then, Oscar turned toward you, his expression softer now. “You know… you deserve to have nights like this.”

You frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, “you spend so much time proving yourself, being the ‘serious’ one. But you’re allowed to have fun. You’re allowed to just… be.”

His words hit harder than you expected.

For so long, you had been carrying the weight of your career, your reputation, and your past relationship. But tonight—tonight was different.

Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the way Oscar was looking at you, or maybe it was just the magic of Monaco.

Either way, you found yourself taking a step closer, your heart pounding.

“Oscar…”

But before you could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the moment.

“There you are.”

Lando.

He was standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable as his gaze flickered between you and Oscar.

And just like that, reality came crashing back.

You felt Oscar tense beside you, but he didn’t move, didn’t drop your hand.

Lando’s jaw tightened slightly before he let out a breath, forcing a smirk. “Didn’t realize you two had plans tonight.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were to Oscar, of how different this moment felt compared to all the ones you had shared with Lando.

But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Maybe, for once, it was time to stop looking back.

You glanced at Oscar, and in that split second, you made your decision.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steady. “We did.”

•

f1gossip Y/N was in a private meet and greet to talk about her experience in F1. It is rumored that Oscar was also present 🤭 Here are some of the questions:

“Y/N, how is it like being the only woman in F1?”

- “It was a little scary at first. The thought of being ‘alone’ in a man’s world but, as soon as I met my team, I felt so welcomed and happy. And when I met the rest of the drivers, they were all so welcoming. I’m really grateful for that.”

“Who’s your favorite all time driver?”

- “This is gonna sound unbelievable but, it’s actually Fernando. And having him as my teammate is like a dream come true! I’ve been a fan since I started watching F1 and I never thought I would be his teammate. He’s an extraordinary man and a really good mentor.”

“How do you see yourself in ten years?”

- “With a championship under my belt, I hope ahah. But I’ve always dreamed of being married and being a mom. Yeah, I know, boring… But yeah, I hope it happens ahah”

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username1 she’s the cutest I CANT

username2 i hope the rumors are true and that she and oscar are really together 🥹

username3 she and oscar would make the cutest babies EVER

username4 I hope she gets what she dreams of, she deserves it 😍

•

yourusername last race before the winter break. Let’s get ittttt 💋

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username1 go get it girl, give us p1 🫶🏻

astonmartinf1 make magic out there ❤️‍🔥

oscarpiastri 😍

-> username2 Oscar what are you doing here????

-> username3 he doesn’t hide anymore, I LOVE IT

-> username4 pls i hope they’re together

-> username5 waiting for the day they finally admit it 😭😭

•

oscarpiastri happy birthday beautiful 🤍 and may all your dreams come true ⚡️

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username1 WHAT

username2 he hard launched it I CANT 😭

-> username4 i always thought it was gonna be her doing it first

username3 FINALLY

fernandoalo_oficial happy birthday chica 😊

landonorris happy birthday! Wishing you all the happiness in the world 🤍

carlossainz55 happy birthday !!

yourusername thank you for everything. I love you 💋❤️‍🔥

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

[gyu-tori]

The Only Gift That Matters | Y.JW

A Birthday Special

Pairing: idol!jungwonx fem!reader Genre: FLUFF!!

Summary: After his final tour performance, Jungwon expects a simple celebration—until he walks in and finds you waiting for him. With the help of his meddling members, you’ve flown across the world to surprise him on his birthday, turning an ordinary night into one he’ll never forget.

Word Count: 6.4k

The deafening cheers of thousands of ENGENEs still echoed in Jungwon’s ears as he walked offstage, his heart hammering in his chest. The adrenaline of performing had yet to fully subside, leaving his body buzzing with energy despite the exhaustion creeping into his limbs. Sweat clung to his skin, the fabric of his stage outfit slightly damp from the hours of dancing and singing under the bright, flashing lights.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling deeply as he stepped into the backstage area, the distant sound of fans still chanting his name beyond the arena walls. The final show of the tour was over. Just like that.

Jungwon felt a strange mix of pride and relief settle in his chest. The months of rehearsals, traveling, and performing in different cities had been exhausting, but it was all worth it for the moments he got to share with the fans. Now, as the weight of the past few weeks settled on him, he realized just how drained he was.

The other members were already backstage, toweling off sweat and chugging water bottles as staff buzzed around them, congratulating them on another successful concert.

“Damn, that was crazy,” Jay muttered, shaking out his arms as he collapsed onto one of the couches. “The energy tonight was insane.”

Sunghoon nodded, still catching his breath. “I swear, they were even louder than last night.”

“Louder than every other stop, honestly,” Sunoo chimed in, giggling as he wiped his face with a towel. “My ears are still ringing.”

Jungwon smiled at their words, a sense of warmth spreading through him. He loved that no matter how exhausting things got, they could all share these moments together.

“You good, Won?” Heeseung’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention.

Jungwon blinked, realizing he had been standing still for a moment too long. “Yeah,” he nodded, offering a tired smile. “Just taking it all in.”

Ni-ki slung an arm over his shoulders with a grin. “You should. It’s your birthday, Hyung!”

Jungwon chuckled at the nickname. It had started as a joke because of his leader status, but over time, it had stuck. He shook his head playfully. “It’s just another day.”

The members collectively groaned.

“Bro, don’t say that,” Jake protested, nudging him. “It’s your birthday, AND you just finished performing for engenes. We have to celebrate.”

Jungwon laughed, shaking his head again, though he appreciated their enthusiasm. “We’ll see.”

Unknown to him, his members were all exchanging knowing glances. They were doing their best to act casual, but Jungwon was too exhausted to notice the small smirks, the barely concealed excitement in their eyes.

Something was definitely up. But for now, Jungwon was just grateful for a moment to breathe.

Earlier that day, long before Jungwon stepped off the concert stage drenched in sweat and glowing with the high of performing, you had landed in the city, excitement and nerves warring inside your chest.

You had spent weeks planning this trip, coordinating your schedule around his tour, booking flights, and making sure everything was set up perfectly. The hardest part, though, had been keeping it a secret.

Jungwon wasn’t the type to ask too many questions, but he always had a way of sensing when something was up. That’s what made this surprise so difficult to pull off—because if anyone knew you well enough to figure out when you were hiding something, it was him.

Luckily, you had an accomplice.

“Flight’s on time. You should be landing in the afternoon,” Heeseung had texted you the night before. “I’ll make sure Jungwon’s distracted.”

You had smiled at the message, grateful beyond words. Heeseung had been your lifeline in pulling this off.

And now, after hours of flying and navigating through airport crowds, you were finally here, standing in a quiet hallway backstage, hidden from view as the concert continued just beyond the walls.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, fingers tightening around the handle of your small carry-on bag. Even though you had traveled all this way, the nerves had only grown stronger.

What if he was too tired to enjoy the surprise? What if he was overwhelmed? What if—

“Stop overthinking,” Heeseung’s voice cut through your thoughts, his usual teasing lilt present as he approached you from around the corner.

You let out a breath, forcing a small laugh. “I can’t help it.”

He smirked. “You think Jungwon’s not gonna be the happiest man alive when he sees you? Please.”

The words made your heart warm, but the nerves remained. “I just want it to be perfect.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully, then reached for your bag. “Come on, let’s get you set up before he gets suspicious.”

You let him take it, following him as he led you through the backstage area with practiced ease. The energy in the venue was electric—staff members moving in and out of rooms, the faint sound of Jungwon’s voice echoing from the stage as he spoke to the fans.

The reality of just how close you were to him hit you hard.

A whole month had passed since you last saw Jungwon in person. Video calls and texts only did so much when all you really wanted was to be by his side, to feel the warmth of his presence, to hear his laughter without a screen separating you.

And now, in just a short while, he would be standing in front of you again.

Heeseung must have sensed your growing emotions because he nudged you lightly. “Hey, don’t cry yet. You still gotta make it through the surprise.”

You let out a watery chuckle, wiping at your eyes. “I’m not crying.”

“Not yet,” he corrected, grinning.

You shook your head at him, but you were grateful for his humor—it made everything feel a little easier.

Heeseung led you to one of the smaller backstage rooms, where a few staff members were already setting up the decorations. The other members had given their input earlier, making sure everything was just right.

A string of warm fairy lights hung around the room, casting a cozy glow. A table had been set up with a beautifully decorated cake, simple but elegant, with “Happy Birthday, Leader Won!” written in icing.

A large banner stretched across one wall, displaying the same message in bold, playful letters.

The sight made your heart swell. Jungwon wasn’t the type to demand grand celebrations, but that was exactly why you wanted to make sure he had one. He deserved to be showered with love, to be reminded of how much he meant to everyone around him.

“You guys really went all out,” you murmured, taking it all in.

Heeseung shrugged. “Of course. We have to make sure our leader feels special.”

You smiled, running your fingers lightly over the edge of the table. “He’s going to love this.”

Heeseung clapped his hands together. “Okay, so here’s the plan. Jungwon’s still out there, finishing up the concert. Once he comes backstage, he’ll head to the dressing room to cool down, right?”

You nodded, already knowing his post-concert routine.

Heeseung continued. “While he’s in there, we’ll gather everyone here, and when he walks in, we’ll hit him with the surprise. You’ll be hiding behind the curtain until I give you the signal.”

Your stomach flipped. “Got it.”

He gave you a once-over, then smirked. “You look nervous.”

“I am nervous,” you admitted with a small laugh.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, the moment he sees you, he won’t care about anything else.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, nodding. “I hope so.”

Heeseung grinned. “Oh, and by the way—you owe me for this. Big time.”

You laughed. “I’ll buy you dinner, okay?”

“Dinner and bubble tea.”

“Fine.”

Heeseung looked satisfied with that, then glanced at the clock. “Alright, we have about fifteen minutes before he comes offstage. You ready?”

You took a deep breath, placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.

You stood behind the thick black curtain in the small backstage lounge, nerves bubbling under your skin as the final notes of the encore song faded. The sound of thousands of ENGENEs screaming filled the venue, their voices blending into a beautiful, deafening chorus.

Jungwon was still out there, soaking in the last moments of the tour with his members, saying his final thank-yous to the fans. He was probably bowing now, flashing that tired but grateful smile that you had seen so many times in videos and pictures. Only this time, you weren’t watching from a screen. You were here.

Heeseung had disappeared momentarily to check on the progress, leaving you alone in your hiding spot. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed down your outfit, making sure everything was perfect.

The thought of seeing Jungwon after a whole month had your heart racing. Would he cry? Would he be too overwhelmed? You knew how much he tried to hold back his emotions sometimes, especially when it came to himself. He always put others first, always prioritized his members, his fans, his work.

But tonight, tonight was about him.

A soft rustling sound snapped you out of your thoughts, and then Heeseung’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Showtime.”

You swallowed hard. “He’s coming?”

“Yup. He’s in the dressing room now, freshening up. We have about five minutes before he walks in.”

You nodded, inhaling deeply to steady yourself. “Okay.”

The room outside was already set. The other members had gathered, all of them doing their best to act casual, but you could hear the suppressed excitement in their voices.

“Don’t act weird, guys,” Jake whispered. “He’ll know something’s up.”

“Dude, just stand normal,” Sunghoon replied.

“What does ‘stand normal’ even mean?” Jay shot back.

A soft whack sound followed. “Ow, Sunoo!”

“Shut up and just smile,” Sunoo hissed.

You pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. It was almost funny how much effort they were putting into this. Jungwon would probably be too exhausted to even notice at first, but knowing how sharp he was, you wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up on their energy.

Still, the setup was perfect.

The fairy lights gave the room a warm, inviting glow, casting soft shadows on the walls. The cake sat neatly on the table, an elegant white-frosted design with subtle gold accents. The words Happy Birthday, Captain! were written in neat cursive, surrounded by tiny edible stars. The members had insisted on keeping the decorations simple—nothing too over-the-top, but still meaningful.

And then there was the banner.

A large, hand-painted sign stretched across the back wall, filled with personal messages from the members. Little doodles of Jungwon’s favorite things were scattered across it—his favorite snacks, his beloved cat-shaped drawings, even a small, cartoon version of himself.

It was the kind of effort that showed just how much they loved him.

You smiled to yourself, already imagining the look on his face.

A sudden shuffle of footsteps in the hallway made your breath hitch.

“Oh, oh, he’s coming—”

“Positions, everyone!”

You quickly pressed yourself further into the corner, holding your breath. The curtain concealed you entirely, and from this angle, you had a perfect view of the entrance.

The door handle turned.

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with anticipation. Then, the door swung open and the room fell into an instant hush.

Jungwon stepped inside, still towel-drying his damp hair, his oversized black t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame. His post-performance glow was evident—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly dazed from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

He blinked at the sight before him.

The members stood scattered around the room, trying way too hard to act normal. Jay was casually leaning against a table—except his elbow slipped, nearly knocking over a bottle of water. Sunghoon looked suspiciously stiff, like he had rehearsed his “natural” stance too many times. Ni-ki was covering his mouth, eyes already sparkling with suppressed laughter.

Jungwon frowned slightly. Something is up.

Then, his gaze landed on the fairy lights, the cake, and finally, the massive Happy Birthday, Leader Won! banner staring back at him.

Before he could process it, the members erupted into cheers.

“Surprise!”

Jungwon flinched at the sudden noise, nearly dropping his towel. “What the—” He looked around, squinting. “What’s going on?”

“You really thought we wouldn’t do anything for your birthday?” Jake smirked, stepping forward to throw an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders.

Jungwon scoffed. “I knew you guys were being weird today.”

“Define weird,” Sunghoon said innocently, shifting slightly to block the suitcase near the couch.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. “You were all too normal.”

“Bro, we’re always normal,” Jay deadpanned.

“I stand by it.”

The members cackled.

Heeseung, who had been standing off to the side with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Actually…” He smirked. “We have one more present for you.”

Jungwon groaned dramatically, rubbing his face. “Please tell me it’s not another embarrassing video montage—”

“Oh, it’s better.”

Before Jungwon could question it, Heeseung gave a small nod toward the curtain.

That was your cue.

You stepped out, heart hammering against your ribs as you finally locked eyes with Jungwon.

For a moment, time seemed to stop.

Jungwon’s entire body went rigid. His mouth parted slightly. His hands, which had been resting at his sides, twitched like his brain was struggling to send a signal. His chest rose and fell with an unsteady breath.

The members were watching eagerly, as if they were witnessing a dramatic K-drama finale.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Jungwon finally found his voice.

“…Wait.”

His voice cracked slightly.

Ni-ki snorted.

Jungwon’s gaze darted from your face to the suitcase near the couch, then back to you. His lips parted again, but all that came out was:

“HUH?”

The room erupted.

Sunoo doubled over, clutching his stomach. Jake fell onto the couch, wheezing. Ni-ki looked like he was about to pass out from laughing.

Jungwon, however, remained frozen.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you stepped closer. “Surprise.”

That was all it took.

Jungwon suddenly lunged.

He reached you in seconds, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that your feet nearly left the ground. A startled laugh escaped you as you stumbled backward slightly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“You—You’re really here?” His voice was muffled against your shoulder, trembling slightly.

You nodded against him, your heart swelling. “I’m here.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes wide and glassy. “You… You really flew all this way? Just for me?”

You smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”

Jungwon exhaled sharply, like he was still trying to process it. Behind him, the members were still enjoying the show.

Jake wiped away fake tears. “This is beautiful.”

“He’s in shock,” Sunghoon whispered.

“No thoughts. Head empty,” Ni-ki added.

Jungwon ignored them, his hands still gripping your arms as if grounding himself.

“You okay?” you asked, pressing a hand to his cheek.

He blinked slowly. “No. I think I’m malfunctioning.”

The members lost it again.

Sunoo wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “We’ve lost our leader, everyone.”

Heeseung clapped Jungwon’s back. “A thank you would be nice.”

Jungwon finally tore his gaze away from you to glare at him. “Shut up.”

You giggled, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon let out a small, breathless laugh, finally pulling you into another tight hug. “This is the best birthday ever.”

The members groaned loudly.

“Oh my god, he’s so whipped,” Jay muttered.

“Just now realizing that?” Sunghoon scoffed.

You laughed against Jungwon’s shoulder, feeling his grip tighten just a little more.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter how much they teased him, no matter how chaotic things got—this was exactly where you were meant to be.

—

Jungwon still hadn’t let go of you.

It had been a full minute since the initial shock wore off, but he kept his arms locked around you, his head resting against your shoulder like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Okay, we get it, you missed her,” Jay teased, breaking the silence.

Jungwon finally pulled back—just enough to turn and glare at him. “Shut up, Jay.”

Jay smirked. “You’re not even denying it.”

“Because it’s true,” Heeseung added with a knowing grin.

Jungwon sighed, shaking his head before turning back to you. His hands stayed on your arms, his touch warm and grounding. “How long are you staying?”

You smiled. “A few days.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “Good.” Then, quieter, just for you, he murmured, “I don’t want you to leave too soon.”

Your heart melted.

Before you could respond, Ni-ki clapped his hands together. “Alright, lovebirds, we do have a cake waiting.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically but finally—reluctantly—let you go. You laughed at the way he immediately reached for your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned to face the rest of the group.

Jake grinned. “Alright, birthday boy, make a wish.”

Sunghoon nudged him. “You don’t need to. Your biggest wish literally just walked in.”

The members groaned at the cheesiness, but Jungwon?

He just smiled.

You swore his grip on your hand tightened slightly.

With a soft chuckle, he stepped forward to the table, staring at the cake. The warm fairy lights made the white frosting glow softly, and the words Happy Birthday, Captain! stood out in elegant cursive.

Jungwon exhaled deeply. “This is really nice, guys.”

Sunoo beamed. “Of course. You deserve it.”

Jungwon gave him a small, grateful smile before closing his eyes for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he blew out the candles.

The room erupted into cheers.

“Yay, our leader is another year older!” Ni-ki teased.

“Another year shorter,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath.

Jungwon turned to glare at him. “I heard that.”

Sunghoon just smirked. “Oops.”

Jake started cutting the cake while Jay grabbed plates. You watched as Jungwon let himself fully relax, laughing as his members playfully fought over who got the biggest slice.

Sunoo dramatically gasped. “Ni-ki, put that piece back, you gremlin!”

Ni-ki, holding an unfairly large slice, grinned. “Finders keepers.”

Sunghoon looked horrified. “That’s a quarter of the cake, you menace.”

Jungwon just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, just take another slice.”

“You’re too nice,” you teased, nudging him. “If that were me, I would’ve smacked it out of his hands.”

Jungwon turned to you with a grin. “Noted for future cake disputes.”

Heeseung passed you both plates, and as Jungwon took his first bite, a soft sigh of satisfaction left his lips. “Wow.” He looked up at the members. “This is really good.”

“Sunoo picked it,” Jay said, nodding.

Sunoo flipped his hair dramatically. “I do have excellent taste.”

Jungwon chuckled, turning back to you. “You should try it.”

He picked up a small forkful and, without thinking, held it up to your lips.

The entire room fell into scandalized silence.

Jake gasped. “Oh my god.”

Sunghoon looked personally attacked. “In front of my salad?”

Ni-ki fake gagged. “Not at the dinner table, guys.”

Jungwon froze.

His ears turned bright red.

You, however, decided to play along. Maintaining eye contact, you leaned in, taking the bite off his fork.

Jungwon’s jaw visibly clenched. His eyes darted to the members, all of whom were staring.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You didn’t even hesitate.”

Jungwon cleared his throat. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Ni-ki smirked. “Oh, it’s too late for that.”

Sunoo placed a hand over his heart. “I never thought I’d see the day our little leader would be out here doing—” He waved a hand dramatically. “—something so scandalous in front of us.”

Sunghoon sighed. “They grow up so fast.”

Jungwon groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I hate all of you.”

You giggled, leaning closer. “But you love me, right?”

Jungwon sighed dramatically before dropping his hand and looking at you. A soft smile played on his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

The members groaned in unison.

“Oh my god,” Jay muttered, stuffing cake into his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Ni-ki fake sniffled. “Our fearless leader has fallen.”

Jungwon just rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. He squeezed your hand gently before turning back to his cake.

The celebration had finally started winding down.

The cake had been demolished (mostly by Ni-ki, who had somehow managed to sneak extra slices despite Sunoo’s watchful gaze). The members were still playfully bickering about who gave Jungwon the best present, and the room was filled with warmth and laughter.

But even with all the noise, Jungwon hadn’t let go of your hand.

Every few minutes, you’d feel his thumb brush over your skin absentmindedly, as if making sure you were still there. If he wasn’t holding your hand, his knee was pressed against yours, his body always leaning just slightly in your direction.

You didn’t mind one bit.

Eventually, the members started cleaning up, throwing away plates and clearing the table. Jungwon had been watching them work for a grand total of two minutes before Heeseung pointed at him.

“Not so fast, birthday boy. You’re helping.”

Jungwon groaned, leaning against you dramatically. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I be exempt from this?”

“Yeah, no,” Jay deadpanned, tossing him an empty cup. “If we suffer, you suffer.”

Jungwon sighed but stood up, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured.

You smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

As he walked off to help, you watched him fondly. Even exhausted, he still tried to pull his weight, stacking plates and picking up napkins.

It wasn’t long before Heeseung shot you a knowing look from across the room. “You should steal him away for a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. We got this. Go be disgusting somewhere else.”

You snorted, shaking your head before making your way toward Jungwon. He had just finished setting a stack of plates on the counter when you slipped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back.

He stiffened for a split second before instantly relaxing, his hands moving to rest over yours.

“Come with me,” you murmured.

Jungwon turned his head slightly, curiosity in his eyes. “Where?”

You just smiled. “You’ll see.”

The members noticed, of course.

“Aww, look at them,” Ni-ki cooed.

Jake sighed dramatically. “I wish someone would whisk me away like that.”

Sunghoon smirked. “We could, but you’d just come back in five minutes crying about how much you miss us.”

Jake gasped. “That happened one time.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes but tugged you toward the hallway before they could tease either of you further.

The two of you ended up in a quieter part of the backstage area, away from the noise. The air felt different here—quieter, softer, more intimate.

Jungwon sighed as he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “Finally. A moment of peace.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “Tired?”

He tilted his head in thought before shaking it. “Not anymore.”

His eyes softened as he reached for your hand again. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You squeezed his fingers gently. “I wanted to be.”

Jungwon studied you for a long moment, then—slowly—he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture was so sweet, so tender, that your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered up, watching your reaction. When he saw your expression, he grinned. “What? I’m not allowed to be romantic?”

You laughed softly. “You are romantic. Just usually in a really awkward, flustered way.”

Jungwon groaned. “You just had to ruin my smooth moment, huh?”

You giggled, reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. You were very smooth. Super charming.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning into your touch. “Better.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the silence. It felt surreal—to be here with him after so long, with no screen between you, no time zone difference, no calls cutting in and out. Just him.

Jungwon sighed contently. “This is the best birthday ever.”

You tilted your head. “Because of the concert?”

He shook his head immediately. “No.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Because you’re here.”

Your heart swelled.

“You’re really sappy today,” you teased, though your voice was soft.

Jungwon chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Take it while you can.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon’s eyes softened as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for making it perfect.”

And for the first time that night, no one interrupted.

After a long night of performing, celebrating, and being relentlessly teased by his members, Jungwon was finally free.

The two of you had slipped out of the venue while the others were still cleaning up, leaving behind the chaos and noise for the quiet comfort of the van. The moment you slid into the backseat, Jungwon immediately followed, settling in beside you.

The city lights flickered outside as the car pulled onto the road, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The energy from the concert still lingered in the air, but exhaustion was creeping in, making everything feel a little hazy.

Jungwon let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the seat. “I can finally breathe.”

You giggled. “Are you saying your own birthday party was suffocating?”

He turned his head toward you, eyes heavy with fatigue but filled with warmth. “Not the party. Just them.”

From the front seat, Heeseung—who had offered to ride with you two—cleared his throat. “I can hear you, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned, closing his eyes. “I know. That’s why I said it.”

Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is how you treat your beloved hyung? After I singlehandedly orchestrated your entire surprise?”

You grinned. “To be fair, he does have a point, Won.”

Jungwon opened one eye, narrowing it at you. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

You shrugged. “He’s my partner-in-crime. I have to give him some credit.”

Heeseung smirked. “Exactly. Someone appreciates my hard work.”

Jungwon let out a dramatic sigh before turning back to you. “Fine. Thank you, Heeseung-hyung. You’re the best hyung in the world. I’m eternally grateful.”

His tone was so robotic that Heeseung actually gagged. “Okay, never mind. I take back everything. You’re ungrateful.”

You burst into laughter as Jungwon smirked in victory.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, the van rocking gently as it cruised through the city. You glanced at Jungwon, noticing how his body had started to relax completely, his head resting against the seat. His eyes blinked slower, his grip on your hand loosening just slightly.

“You’re exhausted,” you murmured.

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mhm.”

You ran your fingers gently through his damp hair, feeling him melt into your touch. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet,” he mumbled, blinking up at you with a lazy smile. “Wanna spend every second with you tonight.”

Your heart clenched at the softness in his voice.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

He hummed again, eyes half-lidded.

“You’ll still have me tomorrow,” you promised. “And the day after that.”

His lips curled into a small smile. “Good.”

Heeseung, who had been minding his business, suddenly spoke. “I am still here, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned. “Hyung, please.”

Heeseung snorted. “Nah, it’s fine. I love being a third wheel. Really. It’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled as Jungwon shot him a glare, but the moment was short-lived—because not even Heeseung’s teasing could stop Jungwon’s body from shutting down.

Within minutes, his head slowly tilted to the side, resting against your shoulder.

You glanced down, only to find him fully asleep, his breathing deep and steady.

Your heart softened.

Carefully, you adjusted yourself so he could be more comfortable, wrapping an arm around him. He instinctively nuzzled closer, his fingers loosely curling around the fabric of your sleeve.

Heeseung peeked at the rearview mirror and smirked. “Wow. Out cold.”

You smiled, running your fingers through Jungwon’s hair again. “He worked hard today.”

Heeseung nodded. “Yeah… but also, he’s just really whipped.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know.”

The car continued rolling through the city, the lights casting soft glows across Jungwon’s peaceful face.

And in that moment, you realized something.

For all the teasing, for all the chaos, for all the exhaustion—this was perfect.

Jungwon had his fans. His members. His music.

And now, he had you, too.

And that was all that mattered.

By the time the van pulled up to the hotel entrance, Jungwon was completely out.

His head was still resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your collarbone, his body pressed comfortably against yours. Every few minutes, his fingers would twitch slightly—like he was still subconsciously holding onto you even in sleep.

You smiled softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Won, we’re here.”

Nothing.

Heeseung leaned over from the front seat, peering at Jungwon’s sleeping form. He raised an eyebrow. “Is he even breathing?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Heeseung. He’s just exhausted.”

“Hmm.” Heeseung poked Jungwon’s arm. “Hey, birthday boy. Wake up.”

Jungwon didn’t even stir.

You giggled. “Heeseung, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Watch and learn.” Heeseung cleared his throat and said, in a serious voice, “Jungwon-ah, staff said we need to redo the encore performance. Get up.”

Jungwon immediately twitched.

You and Heeseung watched in real-time as his eyes fluttered open, his body tensing slightly—until he finally registered his surroundings.

Then, he groaned and buried his face back into your shoulder. “Hyung, I hate you.”

Heeseung burst out laughing. “Hey, at least now you’re awake.”

Jungwon muttered something under his breath that was definitely not PG-rated, but it only made Heeseung laugh harder.

You giggled, rubbing Jungwon’s back soothingly. “Come on, love. Let’s get you inside.”

With a dramatic sigh, Jungwon finally sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His hair was slightly messy from sleeping on you, and his voice was adorably raspy when he mumbled, “Carry me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung snorted. “Yeah, no. You’re on your own, dude.”

Jungwon pouted but ultimately sighed in defeat, dragging himself out of the van. The moment you both stepped into the hotel lobby, the warm air hit your skin, the dim lighting making everything feel cozier.

The staff greeted Jungwon quietly, congratulating him on his performance before directing you both to his room. Heeseung, finally finished with his babysitting duties, stretched his arms. “Alright, lovebirds, I’m out. Try not to be too disgusting.”

Jungwon yawned, waving him off. “Goodnight, hyung.”

You grinned. “Thanks for everything, Heeseung.”

Heeseung winked before disappearing down the hall, leaving you and Jungwon standing outside his hotel room.

Jungwon sighed, fumbling with the key card. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the bed.”

You smirked. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but I also don’t want to waste time with you,” he murmured, finally pushing the door open.

Your heart softened at his words.

The hotel room was spacious, modern, and filled with warm lighting. A massive king-sized bed took up most of the space, the blankets neatly arranged. Jungwon immediately kicked off his shoes, stretching his arms with a groan before flopping onto the bed face-first.

You laughed. “That tired, huh?”

His voice was muffled against the pillow. “I can’t move.”

You shook your head fondly, setting your bag down before sitting beside him on the mattress. “Want me to get you some water?”

He turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open. “Just lay with me.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “Bossy.”

Still, you didn’t argue. You kicked off your shoes, shifting onto the bed beside him. The moment you did, Jungwon instinctively rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

His warmth, his scent, the steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so him.

Your fingers gently played with the strands of his hair. “You did amazing today.”

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mmm.”

“I mean it,” you whispered. “I watched the whole performance. You were incredible.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, his voice quieter now. “It’s always easier when I know you’re watching.”

Your heart clenched at his words.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, watching as his lips curled into a tiny, sleepy smile.

“Happy birthday, love,” you murmured.

Jungwon let out a deep breath, his body completely relaxing against yours.

And just like that, he fell asleep in your arms.

Jungwon slept soundly for a while, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion. His arms remained wrapped around you, his breathing slow and steady, his face completely at peace.

You didn’t mind one bit.

You stayed there with him, running your fingers through his hair, tracing soft patterns on his back. He looked so soft like this—so young, so free from the pressures of being a leader, a performer, an idol. Right now, he was just Jungwon. Your Jungwon.

Eventually, he stirred, letting out a soft hum as his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, dazed and sleepy, before a slow, lazy smile spread across his lips.

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice raspy.

You smiled back. “Hey, birthday boy.”

He groaned, burying his face into your neck. “I’m still not used to hearing that.”

You giggled, rubbing his back. “Well, get used to it. I’m not done celebrating you yet.”

Jungwon lifted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean?”

You reached over to your bag, grabbing the small, neatly wrapped box you had been waiting to give him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You handed it to him, watching as he carefully unwrapped it, his fingers gentle as ever. When he finally opened the box, his breath hitched.

Inside was a simple silver bracelet, sleek and minimalistic—just his style. But what made it special was the small engraving on the inside.

My home, my heart—always yours.

Jungwon stared at it for a long moment, his fingers tracing over the words. His lips parted slightly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You bit your lip. “Do you like it?”

Silence.

Then, Jungwon inhaled sharply, closing the box with a snap before you could see his face.

“Jungwon?”

Still no response.

Then, to your absolute horror, he turned away from you, shoulders hunched, hands covering his face.

Oh god.

He was crying.

Your heart stopped. “Wait—love, are you okay?”

A muffled, strangled sound came from behind his hands.

Oh no. Oh no, you broke him.

You sat up quickly, placing a hand on his back. “Jungwon, I—”

“Give me a second,” he croaked.

You blinked. “What?”

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, shoulders shaking slightly. “I need a second.”

You pursed your lips, biting back a smile. “Are you crying right now?”

“No.” His voice cracked.

You giggled, rubbing circles on his back. “You are crying.”

Jungwon finally turned to you, eyes red and glassy, cheeks flushed. “I am not crying.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

You stared.

He stared back.

“…Shut up,” he muttered.

You burst out laughing, and that was officially the last straw for Jungwon. With a groan, he flopped back onto the bed, throwing a pillow over his face.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “I hate you.”

You were still giggling as you pried the pillow away. “You love me.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically, but his lips curled into a soft smile. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

Your heart swelled as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his forehead. “Then keep it on forever, okay?”

Jungwon sat up slightly, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist. He stared at it for a long moment before turning to you, his expression completely soft.

“I will.”

And somehow, you knew he meant it.

Jungwon was still staring at the bracelet on his wrist, turning it slightly under the warm hotel room lights. His fingers traced the engraving again, as if memorizing the feel of it.

You watched him with a soft smile, resting your chin on your palm. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted before he nodded. “Yeah.”

Your fingers reached out to gently take his hand, brushing your thumb over the bracelet. “You really like it?”

Jungwon huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I love it.” Then, quieter, he murmured, “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You knew he loved you—he had shown it in so many ways, in his small gestures, his thoughtful words, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world. But hearing him say it so plainly, so softly, with the weight of today still lingering in the air, made warmth bloom in your chest.

You leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. It was slow, unhurried—like the both of you had all the time in the world. Jungwon sighed into the kiss, his fingers curling around your wrist, grounding himself in you.

When you finally pulled away, he was gazing at you with sleep-heavy eyes, his expression completely open and vulnerable.

You nudged his nose playfully. “Sleep, birthday boy.”

Jungwon groaned but obediently flopped back onto the bed, pulling you down with him. His arms wrapped around your waist, his body molding perfectly against yours.

You laughed softly. “Comfortable?”

He let out a content sigh, nuzzling into your neck. “Mhm.”

The steady sound of his breathing filled the room, and you felt his body fully relax against yours. His fingers were still loosely intertwined with yours, his grip soft but steady—like even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, whispering, “Sweet dreams, birthday boy.”

And just like that, Jungwon drifted off, the softest smile still lingering on his lips.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: I MADE IT ON TIME TO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE YANG JUNGWON! He's been killing my heart so much recently~ He needs to give me a break or I'll start dropping on my knees for him. ALSO!! First enhypen fic so I hope you guys enjoy hehe~ This was very rushed so lmk if there are any errors or mistakes!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob

[hoonieyun]

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ best friend's bf!jay x reader breakup with your girlfriend cause i'm bored... summary: being invited to your best friend's birthday was nothing out of the ordinary, until you finally meet her boyfriend and he just seems to be the man of your dreams.

warnings: drinking, alcohol, kissing, consensual skinship, jay and yn are not good people, cheating, profanity, 18+ not proof read lol wc: 3347

hoonieyun notes: okay so this was supposed to be inspired by ariana grande's song but i kind of didn't want to write it where yn was the one initiating the cheating so i just kind of flipped it around lol anyways i hope you guys enjoy this one was wild djfdfj

going to your best friend’s birthday wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, she was your best friend after all; so celebrating her on her big day was something you were obligated to do. she had mentioned her new boyfriend would also be there and said that she wanted this to be a moment where she could introduce him to all of her friends. you didn’t mind much since you were happy she found someone to love and support her but did find it strange that it would be at a house party but that’s just how your best friend was. she was the party girl.

you and your best friend weren’t the most unsuspecting duo, you were both wild, fun, and hunted for the thrill. she, however, was the life of the party while you simply just enjoyed the energy of the party. in a lot of ways you two fit really well together because you loved to party and she was the party. 

as you get ready for your best friend’s party, there are several things on your mind, such as what her new boyfriend was like. they’ve only been together for a few weeks and she’s kept him more private in comparison to her past relationships so there was an air of mystery around him. another thing on your mind was the fact that you were definitely going to try to find a boy to be your distraction for the night as you try to forget your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with just the week before. it was your best friend’s birthday so of course you were going to go no matter what but a part of you was still sad over your breakup and figured that this party would be the best way to release some steam. 

killing two birds with one stone by celebrating your best friend and finding a new boy to occupy your mind for the night. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

the party was in full swing when you arrived, stepping out of your uber but not before thanking the sweet old man who was your uber driver, the music coming from your friend’s house was so loud it muffled the sound of the car driving away. 

she always knows how to throw a party, you thought to yourself with a smile as you prepare yourself to have the time of your life. 

unbeknownst to you the type of chaos that would ensue in the night. 

you weaved your way through the crowd, sending a text to your best friend that you had arrived. in the meantime, you stopped by her kitchen, knowing that there would be several alcoholic beverages ready; and indeed there was. you helped yourself to a hard seltzer, choosing to start off light and would pick it up when you found your friend so you could get shitfaced with her. 

having long and pretty nails were fun, you got to choose the designs and you always got complimented on them but one of the downsides was the fact that it made opening cans the hardest task in the world. you feared you were going to break your nail if you tried to open the can of hard seltzer and because you weren’t in the mood for hard liquor just yet, you didn’t know what to do. 

“need some help with that?” a low voice that was unfamiliar to you says from behind and as you turn around, you’re faced with a man with striking features. a sharp nose matched with fierce eyes that bore into your face, lips that shined under the light of the kitchen, and with how truly striking he was; he exuded a certain type of warmth and softness; contrasting his features. 

“uh- um yeah.” you said, as you hand the can over to him– to which he opens with ease. you chuckle at how easy it was for him and he smiles at your bashfulness; you had never felt this way meeting a man for the first time. usually they were the one to swoon and be heartstopped by you; but right now– you were utterly speechless at the man standing before you. 

“what’s your name, mystery girl?” he asks and you take the can he’s offering back to you. 

you shake your head to break out of the trance he had put you in with just his face so you could answer; “yn” you answer and he nods. “beautiful name. enjoy the party, ok? if you need help opening more cans, come find me.” he says with a wink as he’s exiting the kitchen as if that was his sole duty. to come in there, leave you starstruck, help you out, and then leave. 

you’re blinking rapidly when he leaves, trying to understand what had just happened, it had happened so fast that you’re now realizing you hadn’t even gotten the mystery man’s name. you take several gulps of the hard seltze to get yourself together, you weren’t about to let this man leave you in so much awe and not get a piece of him. you officially have found your distraction for the night but before you could hone in on your target; you needed to find your best friend who still hasn’t texted you back. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

it’s about 45 minutes and several missed calls later when you finally see your best friend, to which is no surprise, who is at the center of the dance floor. you figured that probably was the first place you should’ve checked– you squeeze past all of the bodies on the dance floor and when you finally make your way to your best friend, her face lights up instantly.

“yn!!! babe!! you’re here!!” she shouts loud enough you heard her perfectly fine through the music that was causing the walls of her home to shake. “where have you been, girl?” she asks and you explain that you tried to call her several times to find her and to let her know you had arrived but she never answered. 

“ugh, sorry! my boyfriend took my phone to charge it upstairs because it’s always dead!” she explains and you nod in response. her phone was always dead and it was a big thing with her ex-boyfriends. they always used to get so angry at her because her phone would die as the two of you would be at the height of the night at a club. this boyfriend, however, seems to be on the right path in making sure she’s taken care of as far as phone battery goes. 

“speaking of, let me introduce you to him! i need to find him.” she says, running out from the dance floor and to, you assume, her bedroom to grab her phone that was charging. you laugh at your best friend’s actions; very clear that she was a lot further in her drunkedness than you were. 

once again you find yourself alone at her party, greeting and smiling at the people you recognized as you return to the kitchen after finishing your drink. this time, opting for a few shots of tequila to catch up to your best friend. 

you’re on your third shot, pouring your fourth, when a familiar voice slightly startles you. “slow down, the bottle isn’t going to run away from you.” he says and when you look up, it’s none other than the mystery man who you ran into earlier. you down the shot you just poured, face puckering at the bitterness as you chase it with a lime you found in your friend’s fridge. “no, it won’t run away but if i don’t finish the bottle someone else will and then it’ll be gone so i’ve got to beat someone to it.” you explains and the two of you laugh. 

his laugh was so sweet it made you instantly forget about the bitter taste lingering in your throat. 

you offer him a shot and he kindly accepts, slightly tapping your shot glass with his as the two of you lock eyes before taking the shot. once again, biting into the lime to chase the shot and what he does next leaves you immobile. 

he grabs the lime from your hands right after you’ve just pulled it away from your lips and he brings it up to his own, sucking and biting onto the last drops of lime juice in the fruit and tossing it into the trash behind you when he’s finished. his features go from sharp to soft in an instant as the sting of the alcohol leaves his mouth. biting your lips at his action, you’re instantly surprised at the bold behavior, a smirk spreading on his lips when he notices your reaction. 

“there you are! oh! looks like the two of you have met!” your best friend appears in the kitchen, joining you and the mystery man at her kitchen counter. “ooh! shots!!” she says, grabbing the bottle from your hands and pouring one for the three of you. you all take the shot together and once again are all reaching for a lime to chase the drink with, however, this time he grabs the lime from your best friend’s hands after she’s done and does the same exact thing he had just done with you moments before your friend arrived. 

“oh, right! yn, this is my boyfriend jay. jay, this is my best friend, yn! she’s like a sister to me so you guys have to get along or else i’ll cry. she’s probably going to be my maid of honor when we get married…” your best friend was now rambling but you were able to tune her out as your eyes zone in solely on the boy in front of you. 

the mystery man that had your heart beating faster than it should’ve just happened to be your best friend’s new boyfriend. 

“earth to yn?” she says, waving her hand in front of your face when she’s noticed you had spaced out. “she always gets like this when she’s drunk, probably the tequila.” she says to jay. you’re snapping out of your thoughts at the word “tequila”, choosing to change the topic and energy between the three of you by pouring another round for the birthday girl. 

“happy birthday to you, my best friend!” you toast to her, all the while you’re mind is only on the boy standing across from you whose eyes haven’t left your body not once since his girlfriend and your best friend had joined the two of you. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

you’ve decided that avoiding jay was the only way you could go on for the rest of the night. you weren’t even completely sure where your best friend went after she had introduced you to him, even though you had definitely met prior, but you were trying your best to busy yourself with more drinks and mingling with friends to avoid the feeling inside of you. 

was it guilt? guilty that you had shared such an intimate moment with your best friend’s boyfriend. 

or was it anxiety? anxious that your best friend would find out and you’d be known as the homewrecker who ruined your best friend’s relationship on her birthday. 

or was it… love? did you love jay? you barely even knew the guy but the minimal interactions you’ve had with him had left you feeling like you were falling for him. 

whatever it was, you were downing alcohol left and right to supress the feeling. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

whenever you’d see jay in the corner of your eye or he’d enter the same room you were in, you’d make an excuse that you needed to leave. 

“sorry, need to use the bathroom.”

“ugh, my cup is empty. i’m gonna grab another.”

“god, it’s hot in here. i’m gonna get some air.”

you shouldn’t have ever said the last one because as you’re stepping out into your best friend’s backyard, jay is right on your tail. 

“you’re not avoiding me, are you yn?” he says, a teasing smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing. you shook your head, deciding that you weren’t even going to say a word to him. “really?” he asks, walking closer to you; his face merely inches from yours. you could smell the alcohol on his tongue but the only thing you could focus on was the fact that he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. 

moments before he’s about to close the gap between the two of you, you push him away, causing him to stumble backwards. a chuckle escapes from his lips as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, clearly a bit aggravated at your sudden actions. 

“this is wrong.. you’re girlfriend is my best friend.” you say quietly, afraid that someone would hear but considering everyone, including your best friend, were all too busy getting drunk and dancing to the music inside, no one was going to hear the two of you. 

“yeah, but you can’t tell me this isn’t fun..” jay says, repositioning himself so he was right in front of you again. brushing away the hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “so pretty…” he whispers and it sends shivers down your spine; he could probably see the goosebumps rise on your shoulders. 

jay’s eyes trail on the exposed skin of your neck and clavicle. hands following his eyes as they slightly graze your skin, his touch leaving a burning sensation that you just couldn’t pull yourself away from. 

without thinking, you push him away once again and run back inside. not because you were afraid of what he was about to do, no. you were afraid that if you stayed for just a few seconds logner, you would’ve just let him do it without thinking about how much it word hurt your best friend. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

the rest of the night goes without a hitch, you don’t see jay after what happened in the backyard and thankfully your best friend seems to not know anything since she was still drunkedly and happily partying long after all of the people had left. 

it’s 3am when the last of the guests leave and you’ve stuck around to help your best friend clean up a bit but she’s way too drunk to even stand so jay helps her to her room so she can get some rest.

he says that it’s so she can rest but deep down you know it’s because he wants to get you alone and if that means putting his drunk girlfriend to bed, then so beit. 

you’re throwing cans and red solo cups into a trash bag when jay walks back downstairs after he’s tucked her into bed. “let me help you with that.” he says, reaching for the bag in your hands which was pretty stuffed and as he reaches over, you snatch it away; flinching backwards to create some distance between the two of you. 

“jay…” you warn him and he looks down and smiles before returning his gaze back onto you. “do i make you nervous, yn?” he asks, walking towards you and this time there isn’t anywhere to retreat to as you’re stuck between him and the wall behind you. 

“she’s asleep, no one will know.” it was like he had this planned out and you knew that he must’ve had it planned out because he takes the opportunity to take the trash bag out of your hands when you’re too stunned to speak, tossing it to the side so he could get closer to you. 

“what do you say, huh?” he asks, cupping your face with his large hand. 

this was so wrong in so many ways but why weren’t you fighting him off? he was your best friend’s boyfriend for christ’s sake but with the way you two were standing right now, anyone would think he was yours and you were his. 

he doesn’t give you the opportunity to answer before he’s connecting your lips with his, the kiss starting off sweet and gentle, like he was testing the waters, and when you finally give in and kiss him back, it becomes more heated. like he was hungry for the taste of your lips and was the thing he wanted all night. it satiated him in ways that you wouldn’t understand and quite frankly, would never understand. 

“why are you doing this?” you ask, slightly pushing him off of you. 

jay just shrugs with a pout, “do you not like it? if you don’t i’ll stop… but it doesn’t seem like you want me to stop.” he says. the ball was now in your court. 

in the several hours you’ve known jay you’ve learned one thing. 

he’ll get what he wants and he’ll do whatever it takes. 

you’ve realized that he was completely fine with cheating on your best friend with you and was encouraging you to be okay with it too. you’ve already done the action, kissing jay means he’s cheated on your best friend and to twist the knife further; it was with her best friend. jay put the ball in your court because he had no problem doing any of this. he’ll get what he wants and go back to his girlfriend, conscience free as if he didn’t commit infidelity. 

he’ll probably go back to her room upstairs and slip into the empty spot beside her on her bed and sleep soundly knowing what he had just done. 

he put the ball in your court because he knew how much this would eat at you. like he knew you’d have this internal battle with chasing what your heart wanted but what your brain was denying you of. you weren’t sure if he knew about your recent break, like your best friend were to have mentioned it in passing, but it was only adding to the fact that you were heartbroken and had planned to find a boy tonight to mend your heart even if it was just for tonight. 

jay knew in the small time he’s known you that you would fall for him. your best friend had told him of all the stories of your ex-boyfriends being shitty and how you could never find the right man, to which she’d follow with how happy she was to have found jay, a man who would “treat her right”. jay could see the gears turning in your head as you thought about what you should do. 

were you going to let the weight of heartbreak lead you down a path that would be irrepairable once broken, much like you are now. broken..

or were you going to do the right thing and let yourself continue to be heartbroken if it meant that you would be doing right by your best friend. 

but when jay connects his lips with yours once again, you don’t pull away and jay takes this as the answer he was looking for. the answer he wanted. he had you and he wasn’t going to let go even if it’s just for tonight. neither of you knew if what you felt for each other was love, hell, it could just be the alcohol talking; but tonight you were his and he was yours. 

your best friend slept soundly upstairs in her bedroom as you and her boyfriend explored one another right below where she slept.

when you’re kissing jay like it was the last time, and it should be but a part of you was saying it wasn’t going to be with the way jay was holding and kissing you like you were the love of his life, you realized what that feeling was inside of you from earlier. 

greed. you were greedy and everything you had done tonight was done out of greed. 

but if greed would help mend your broken heart and would have jay kissing you so sweetly, then maybe you didn’t mind being greedy.

"breakup with your girlfriend, i'm bored" ariana grande the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artist above

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

@river-demon-slayer @ikeulove @fluerz @pjselee @multistansimp4life @yunthejin @urmomdotcom5678 @heebear @mora134340

[scoobydoodean]

Sometimes Dean saying Purgatory felt "pure" is used to invalidate that experience as traumatic, which clearly isn't supposed to be the message here. We see Dean's hypervigilence after he returns and how Sam notices it while not wanting to. We see Dean say Purgatory changed him (implying not for the better to Sam and to Benny). We can see that he's rough around the edges—having trouble comforting Kevin despite being the only person who cared enough to find and check up on him because he's spent the last year fighting for his life and having to let everything happen to him wash over him and just survive. Dean thinks Cas died in Purgatory. He reports he was perpetually trapped in 360 degree combat and we see that he can't relax. When he shows back up topside, he can't sleep or eat at first. He zones out. He and Benny both celebrate that they made it out.

Dean saying Purgatory felt "pure" isn't to say it wasn't traumatic or that he isn't overtly experiencing PTSD. It's that the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders anymore. Dean spent all of season 7 suicidally depressed, drinking to the point Sam "joked" that alcohol was basically a vitamin to Dean at this point. The season started with Death blaming Dean for what Cas did—telling Dean it was his fault because he failed to figure out Death's incredibly unhelpful hints and stop his best friend from going nuclear. That one conversation (and then everything that piled on top) cut Dean so badly that he never fully recovered. Dean spent the season losing faith and trust, feeling hopeless and helpless, but like the whole world was his responsibility anyway... and there was nothing he could do to save it. He couldn't even save his own best friend. His brother was dying because of what his best friend did. His adoptive dad was killed. Every single time Dean indicated that he needed help he was brushed off or told to suck it up and he wanted to die. So yeah—when Dick was dead and Dean landed in Purgatory, despite the fact that Dean was actively living more trauma, he appreciated the simplicity. All he had to worry about was himself, Benny, and Cas. He didn't have to worry about cosmic beings blaming him for the state of the world. He didn't have to worry about Sam or some apocalypse looking on the horizon. All he had to worry about was living—and what a rush it must have been to realize that despite everything—he wanted to live—that he would fight and kill to survive—to keep being alive. So yeah—Purgatory felt pure. And that is SO sad when you think about it.

[akawifeyy]

LOVELORN | smau pt.1 (AKA12)

description: kimi antonelli has known you ever since you were little, and he's always kept a safe distance. but it's getting harder and harder to deny the chemistry, and that he's head over heels in love.

tropes: best friend's little sister, childhood friends, one-sided love, ob87 sister!reader

face claim: daniela avanzini

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: i need kimi holistically... also this is part 1 / 3 fics!

@ yourusername: snapshots from the past few days 📸

tagged: @ olliebearman, @ f1

comments (752):

@ user1: captivating

@ user2: IDK if I wanna be her or with her

-> @ user3: sameee

@ olliebearman: It was nice seeing you again, lil sis

-> @ yourusername: i'm younger than you by three minutes, be so fr ✋🏻

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (2025):

@ kimiantonelli: Grazie Miami for everything! P1, can't believe it. Thank you all who helped make this a reality.

tagged: @ f1, @ mercedes

comments (1938):

@ yourusername: incredible driving skills, maybe you aren't just a pretty face

-> @ kimiantonelli: The pretty face is all you

-> @ user4: HELLO???

@ kimiantonelliupdates: TBT baby kimi, i can't believe he's all grown up and winning GPs

tagged: @ kimiantonelli, @ aka12lover, @ forzakimi & 3 others

comments (124):

@ user3: HE'S SO SMALLL AWEE

@ user5: yeah yeah baby Kimi's cute but did anyone also catch him flirting with Ollie's sister?

-> @ user6: They've known each other since childhood, we shouldn't be speculating on a romantic relationship that might not even exist. It's an invasion of their privacy, let them flirt and leave them alone

@ aka12lover: sooo cutie 😍

Interview with Kimi Antonelli (excerpt):

INTERVIEWER: So, you've known Ollie Bearman for quite some time, since your years together in Prema Racing?

KIMI ANTONELLI: Yes, we've been friends for years. I'm grateful, he's stuck with me through a lot of things.

INTERVIEWER: The Internet is abuzz with rumors concerning the two of you. You may have heard?

(Kimi Antonelli shakes his head.)

INTERVIEWER (clearing throat): Many fans think that you might be secretly dating Ollie's younger sister, Y/N. What would you like to say to them?

KIMI ANTONELLI: No, no. (laughter) If I were dating Y/N, I wouldn't hide it. She does not deserve to be kept like a secret.

INTERVIEW: So the rumors are false?

KIMI ANTONELLI: For the time being, yes. Unless she decides otherwise.

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (2025):

@ yourusername: oh how i love imola 😇

tagged: @ kimiantonelli, @ olliebearman, @ f1

comments (356):

@ user7: orange looks so pretty on her 🥵

@ olliebearman: Thanks for leaving me halfway through celebrations. I know where your loyalty lies now

-> @ yourusername: sorry i had to piss 😭

-> @ olliebearman: Sureee 🙂‍↔️

@ kimiantonelli: Photo credits?

-> @ yourusername: my bad kimi

@ kimiantonelli: P3 in Imola! Lucky and thankful to be here

tagged: @ yourusername, @ f1, @ mercedes

comments (985):

@ user9: hello why did he tag Y/N 😣

-> @ user10: I'm gonna crash out if they're dating

-> @ user9: but remember the interview? why would he lie

@ olliebearman: Congrats mate!!

@ yourusername: as someone i know once said, "photo credits"? 🤨

-> @ kimiantonelli: Sorry, tesoruccia 😞

-> @ user11: LITTLE TREASURE??? guys i don't think they're kidding anymore

Text messages between Kimi and Y/N (2025):

Text messages between Ollie and Y/N (2025):

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 3: Flower District]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, medical stuff, a creepy dude, a special surprise is found in Aegon's office!!!

Word count: 6.2k

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You sleep in late and wake to the sound of excited voices out in the kitchen. When you follow them, you find Baela using a pink Click ‘n Flame utility lighter to ignite the candles on a sloppily but lovingly homemade cake, Pillsbury Funfetti according to the blue box left upturned on the countertop, lumpy white icing dotted with multicolored sprinkles. Jace must be responsible. You panic, thinking that you have forgotten a birthday, but no: you quickly recall that Baela is a Sagittarius and Jace is—somewhat improbably—a Capricorn.

“What are we celebrating?” you ask.

Baela looks up from the cake, the candlelight luminescence radiant on her face. She is beaming, she is glowing, she is definitely meant to be an actress. She shines too brightly to belong anywhere but among the stars. “I got the part.”

“Which part?”

“The one in the new Yorgos Lanthimos movie!”

“No way!” you shout, and you rush over to hug her; but already there is a sinking feeling that you are dimly aware of through the rush, and when the revelry is over you will lie in bed alone with these thoughts, treasonous yet true: When will it be my turn? Why can’t this happen to me? “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s about the French Revolution,” Baela says when you pull away, still grinning hugely. “I’m getting third billing, my name will be on the promo posters! I’m flying to Paris for filming next month!”

“Wow.” Your smile is frozen on your face. “Wow, wow, wow, I can’t believe it. This is so awesome!”

Then Baela realizes how it must feel for you, and she is sympathetic, rubbing your shoulder as her expression twists into something soft and bashful. “But hey, your luck is turning around too!”

“Yeah,” Jace says. “You got to be in Episode 5,000 of Grey’s Anatomy.” Baela gives him a reproachful glare. “What?” he asks, clueless.

“No, it’s totally cool,” you insist. “I’m really, really thrilled for you, Baela. You have to take a million pictures in Paris so I can see all the architecture and desserts and hot French dudes!”

Jace snorts. “Are French dudes even hot?” He sounds skeptical.

“You can be my date to the premiere,” Baela tells you. Jace gapes at her, incredulous. “We can pose together on the red carpet and you can do some networking! Maybe Yorgos will even like you and cast you in his next project!”

But something about the way she says it makes the prospect sound ludicrous, fantastical, fictional. Baela’s breakthrough is reality, yours is unicorns and mermaids and the Loch Ness Monster. “You are so wonderful, but you should take Jace.”

“Yeah, you should take Jace,” Jace says.

Baela pulls a knife out of the bamboo block on the kitchen counter. Her parents bought it, like they bought almost everything else in the apartment; they believe in her, lots of people do. “Do you want some cake? When’s your appointment?” The appointment you didn’t cancel, contrary to Aegon’s explicit instructions. Technically, you never agreed to, so you haven’t lied to him. That makes you feel better. Baela glances at the calendar and reads the time written there in red ink. “Oh good, not until noon. You definitely have time for cake!”

“Babe, you gotta blow out your candles first,” Jace says. Baela closes her eyes, becomes still and serene, extinguishes the tiny golden flickers of light with one delicate puff. Then she begins cutting the Funfetti cake. You get three forks from the silverware drawer. Jace hands you a plate from the cabinet as he complains about having to go to class today: Music Aesthetics, Analysis, and Philosophy.

“Just a little one, please,” you tell Baela. A moment later, she plops a skinny slice of cake onto your plate. “Thanks, Becca! Wait, no, I mean Baela. Sorry.”

She laughs, still wielding a knife covered in white frosting. “Who’s Becca?”

“Aegon’s fiancée.”

“Oh, your agent’s future wife? The agent that you are definitely not into at all?”

“Yeah, that one, you got it.” You give her a wink and take a bite of cake: frosting so sweet it hurts your teeth, tiny kaleidoscopic flecks of candy like gold in a stream.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, which one are you liking the feel of?” Dr. Cunningham asks, smiling in a way that is effervescent and yet impersonal, vaguely impatient, a real estate agent type of charisma. He must be in his mid-fifties, and yet his face is nearly entirely purged of wrinkles, smooth and shiny and evenly tanned. His teeth are too perfect to not be veneers. People keep suggesting those to you too; you need more time to wrap your mind around the idea of having your canines and incisors shaved down to helpless nubs.

“Um…” You go down the line again, squeezing all three samples that are arranged on the stainless steel utility table that Dr. Cunningham wheeled over to you. “I walked in wanting the gummy bear implants, and I think I feel the same way now.”

“Excellent!” he says, wearing that same smile. His eyes, very blue, never change; they are alert yet vacuous, like the fatal error screen on a Windows computer.

“And they’re safer, aren’t they? The gummy bear ones?”

“Statistically, yes,” Dr. Cunningham agrees, somewhat briskly, as if he is eager to change the subject. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. I hardly ever see ruptures in any of my patients.”

Hardly ever, not never. “That’s good!” you say spiritedly, like a star pupil.

“As I mentioned earlier, they are a bit more expensive than the other options, but we have several financing options available.”

“My parents are paying, so no worries there.”

“Fantastic.” He’s still smiling. You kind of wish he would stop. “You want to be an actress, I assume?”

“I do, yeah! How’d you know?”

He chuckles as he rolls the small metal table away. “That’s what all the girls are doing out here, right? And if it’s not acting, it’s singing, or modelling, or…what do you call that, when you make money on TikTok or wherever?”

“Being an influencer.”

“Right,” Dr. Cunningham says. “Well, I wish you the very best of luck.” It’s chivalrous but hollow, an echo of the encouragement he’s given to thousands of women just like you, except probably more beautiful and more talented and actually getting some of the parts they audition for.

I got a part, you think, and your mood lifts a bit. Aegon finally found me one. And he believes I’ll get more.

“Is it okay if I take a look?” the ever-smiling Dr. Cunningham says, and your heart begins to pound beneath the gown you’re wearing, scratchy white polyester-blend fabric that opens in the front. But this is all standard procedure, and you knew to expect an exam, and you should not feel like you’re lining up for the firing squad.

“Of course!” you exclaim too enthusiastically; your voice cracks. You undo the tie down by your waist and the fabric across your chest and belly goes slack. Your tan TOMS wedges are scattered on the linoleum floor that’s supposed to look like wood. The sundress you wore to the appointment, patterned with large sunlit palm leaves, is folded on a chair. Your eyeshadow matches: matte green Thorns by Anastasia Beverly Hills, sparkly gold Whisper by Natasha Denona.

As Dr. Cunningham opens your gown and begins the exam, you stare at a framed print of Venice Beach on the wall, and you pretend you are there under the hot glaring daylight instead of here in a frigidly air-conditioned office being prodded and manipulated, measured not to be admired or understood but only to be improved upon.

Dr. Cunningham is saying: “Just so you’re aware, due to how firm a gummy bear implant is, we typically have to make a slightly larger incision in order to insert it. Saline and traditional silicone implants, being more flexible, can be squeezed in through a smaller opening, for example using a transaxillary incision in the underarm. But they’re also more prone to wrinkling and rippling, and they must be replaced more frequently, so that pliability comes at a cost. I think gummy bear implants are a very good choice for you.”

“And…where exactly would the incision be?” Your heartbeat is still thunderous; you can hear the scorching red blood flow throbbing in your ears. Dr. Cunningham either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it.

“We’d go in right here,” he says, skimming his gloved fingers just beneath your left breast, your raw heart just two inches away. Goosebumps prickle on your arms. “It’s what we call an inframammary incision, and it gives us more room to work with to ensure the implant is placed properly, and…”

He loses his train of thought, interrupted by a commotion out in the lobby. Through the closed exam room door, you can hear people arguing and then something being spilled—the jar of pens on the receptionist’s desk? the glass bowl of mints?—and heavy sprinting footsteps. Dr. Cunningham pulls his hands away and you snatch your gown shut just as the door bursts open, and Aegon stands there breathing heavily from the exertion, hair in disarray, white Nike Killshots with a red slash of a Swoosh, dark jeans, salmon-colored t-shirt that’s too big for him, tan sport coat jacket yanked off of his shoulders. His attacker, the elderly receptionist, has chased him to the doorway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she’s shrieking. She smacks him with a massive leather purse. “You can’t just go barging in on patients! What are you, some kind of druggie? We don’t keep any opioids in this office!”

Dr. Cunningham yells: “Will you call the police, Barbara?!”

“No wait, I know him,” you say, and both Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist stare hostilely at you. You ignore them and look at Aegon instead, stunned. “Hi.”

He straightens his jacket. His eyes, that dark and turbulent blue, are fixed on your face as you hastily retie your gown so it stays shut. “Hi. What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s just a consultation.”

“For a surgery you’re not going to have?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “How did you know I was here?”

“I just had this feeling you weren’t going to cancel,” Aegon says. “So I went to your apartment and you weren’t home, but your roommate told me where you were and gave me the address that you wrote on the calendar.”

“Oh.”

“She’s very nice. Your roommate, I mean.”

“Yeah, Baela’s cool.”

“She offered me a piece of Funfetti cake.”

“Did you take it?”

“No. I was in a hurry to get here.”

“Right.” You remain seated on the edge of the exam table with your hands clasped together in your lap. The receptionist and Dr. Cunningham’s bewildered gazes fly between you and the intruder.

Aegon sighs and nods towards the hallway that leads out to the lobby and the front door of the office. “Come on,” he says gently. “Get dressed. Let’s go.”

“I can’t,” you reply.

“Why not?”

You don’t answer; your eyes dart to the print of Venice Beach on the wall and stay there as they begin to water. Aegon crosses the room—the receptionist and Dr. Cunningham shuffle around the cramped space to keep away from him—and stops when he is standing right in front of you, his hands in the pockets of his rumpled tan jacket.

“Why not?” Aegon asks again, very softly now.

You look at him. Your voice is a quivering whisper. “I don’t want to have to give this up.” The city, the potential, the dream.

“Hey,” Aegon murmurs, leaning in close. You can smell the ocean and sunlight and Juicy Fruit gum. Strands of blonde hair, ripped from the sheen of gel, shag over his forehead. “You’re bright as hell just the way you are. You don’t need surgery to be an actress. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And immediately, you are ready to leave. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You wriggle down off of the exam table, check your gown to make sure you’re still covered, and turn to Dr. Cunningham. “I guess I’m not interested anymore.”

“Please never set foot in my office again,” he says.

“No problem,” Aegon snaps. And then to you: “I’ll meet you outside. We’ll get lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, still a little dazed.

Aegon hurries out of the exam room before the police are summoned. Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist leave too, muttering to each other and casting you appalled glares. When you are alone, you throw off the gown and put on your bra, wedges, and sundress…and as you are smoothing the creases from the soft cotton patterned with palm leaves, you smile to yourself, kind pink heat swirling in your cheeks.

Aegon is in the parking lot and leaning against his white Chrysler Sebring convertible. He has put on his black aviator sunglasses to blot out the intense afternoon sun. Dr. Cunningham’s office is on a busy street in Beverly Hills; you can hear car horns, pedestrians shouting into their cellphones, toy dogs yapping, Shape Of You chiming from a passing Mercedes. Across the street is a series of shops in a row, Starbucks and Neiman Marcus and Gucci. Aegon says, pointing to your 2003 Honda Accord: “I’ll drive you back to get your car later.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Chinatown,” he says, opening the passenger’s door of his Sebring. “And from now on, you listen when I tell you to do something, just like you said you would.”

“I’ll be your best client ever,” you promise, climbing into the car. The top is down, the wind blowing in from the Pacific Ocean to the west.

“I’m here for a reason. It’s not to be ignored. I can be your advocate, but you have to be honest with me.”

“I completely understand. I won’t mislead you again.”

“The Grey’s Anatomy people really liked you, by the way.”

The hope unfurls across your face like dawn over the earth. “Really?”

Aegon gives you a teasing, crooked grin. “Don’t pretend you’re shocked.” He shuts the car door, jogs over to the driver’s side, drives east through thick midday traffic.

At the same restaurant you went to the day you met, seated beside the same large fish tank, you and Aegon place the same orders: moo goo gai pan, boneless spare ribs. The waitress, Lanying, asks Aegon about how his siblings are doing before she speeds off to tend to her other customers.

Aegon watches the malevolent ember-colored oscars for a while, then taps his paper Chinese zodiac calendar, rimmed in red and gold. “Which one are you?”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. “You already know.”

But Aegon doesn’t smile; he only stares at you blankly. “What?”

“I told you about my zodiac sign. The first time we had lunch here.”

And he looks at you as if his skull is as clear as the transluscent blue-tinged water of the fish tank, all the lights on but nobody home, and for a split second you almost feel as if you don’t recognize him, as if he is a stranger wearing Aegon’s windswept blonde hair and ill-fitting clothes and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Then Aegon repossesses himself and he is flippant, casual. “Oh yeah, right. Totally. I remember now.”

But you have the sense that he doesn’t. You try to hide how much this wounds you. It must not have been memorable. It must not have meant anything to him. “I’m a dragon!” you say brightly, and hold up your hands as if they are claws, opening and closing your hooked fingers.

Now he does smile, a little preoccupied, a little forced. “Of course you are.”

You scan the calendar. “What year was Becca born?”

“Uh…1994, I think.”

“She’s a dog,” you say. You read the description silently to yourself as the tea and wonton soups are brought to the table: Loyal and honest, you work well with others. Generous yet stubborn and often selfish. Look to the horse or tiger. Watch out for dragons.

~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at Aegon’s office twenty minutes early, mostly because you miss him. It’s Wednesday, June 25th, and you park your Honda on the narrow sloping street and step out into 80-degree sunlight, ambient dog barking, powerlines crossing overhead. A lady walking her chihuahua waves at you and adjusts her sunglasses. Window air conditioning units whir. The trees, ginkgos and pink trumpets and Victorian boxes and palms, are still in the bright breezeless afternoon. The skyline of Downtown is a mirage on the horizon. From the barber shop across the street, you can hear a radio playing Bailamos by Enrique Iglesias.

When you clop into the lobby in your TOMS wedges, you see that Aegon’s door is closed. At his desk, Brandon is on the landline phone and jotting notes down in his planner, his flower pen scribbling rapidly across pink paper. When he spots you, he covers the phone speaker with his hand. “Hey girl!”

“Sorry, I know I’m early. Is he busy with another client?”

“No, go on in!” Brandon reaches down to dig around in the minifridge and sets a Perrier on the ledge of his desk. You take it, thank him, and go to Aegon’s door. You are puzzled to hear people talking on the other side, muffled indistinct voices. You wear an ocean blue sundress and cool metallic shades on your eyelids: Shellshock by Urban Decay, Strike by Natasha Denona. You open the door.

Aegon has his Nike Killshots up on his untidy desk and is playing the Nintendo 64. Mario is running through what appears to be some sort of underground maze, foggy and strewn with gold coins. The greenish haze must be toxic. Mario’s Power Meter is slowly ticking down; each time Mario snags a coin, it is partially restored. Aegon is watching the screen as he talks to a woman whose back is turned to you: tall, willowy, long dark hair. They don’t realize you’re here.

Aegon is saying as he clicks the transluscent orange Nintendo 64 controller: “That’s great, babe.”

“And the charity thing is on July 19th. I got a custom suit from Tom Ford, it’s powder blue, all you have to do is show up to the fitting.”

He sighs euphorically. “You’re the best.”

She giggles. “I know.”

Then Aegon notices you, and for a moment he seems shaken—not in a good way—and for some reason you feel like you’ve made some horrible mistake. The woman spins around to see what he’s looking at. She is stunning and ethereal and wearing a plain sack dress that hangs perfectly on her, a young Cher, and she smiles at you, kind and dazzling.

“Hi!” you say. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m a little early, I mixed up my appointment time because I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re fine,” Aegon replies, but he’s still distracted. Mario suffocates in the maze and drops over dead. Aegon turns off the game. He clears his throat. “Uh, this is Becca.”

You shake her hand when she offers it. Gold bangle bracelets jangle on her wrist. “It’s so nice to meet you, Becca!”

“And you must be the new client!” she says warmly. “The one from…where was it, Michigan?”

“Minnesota,” you reply.

“Oh, brr!” Becca says, pretending to shiver, and you laugh.

“Yeah, I’m really happy to be here. And you’re getting married soon, I hear!”

Becca beams, clapping her hands together. “Yes! I’m so excited but so stressed. The planning is endless.”

“Are you going to do it here in the city somewhere?”

“Aegon didn’t tell you?” Becca is perhaps a tad disappointed. “It’s a destination wedding.”

Aegon says from his desk, somewhat recovered: “Turk…something.”

“Turkey?” you say doubtfully. An interesting choice.

“Turks and Caicos,” Becca clarifies.

“No way! My sister just got engaged there, she said it was gorgeous.”

Aegon asks you from his desk: “Have you ever been?”

“I wish. Not yet, maybe one day.”

“You’ll have to come to the wedding!” Becca says cheerfully.

“Me?!” It’s ridiculous; you’re a nobody, you barely know her, you have a crush on her future husband.

“Yeah, all of Aegon’s clients are invited. Aren’t they, babe?” Becca glances at him, and then her eyes catch there and they stare at each other, Aegon slumped in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, Becca standing next to you, and there are several slow awkward seconds of silence. Aegon gets a piece of Juicy Fruit gum from a pack on his desk and shoves it into his mouth. Becca looks at you and then back to Aegon, who is pretending to organize the clutter on his desk. You notice for the first time that there is a ceramic bowl of Honeycrisp apples there.

“I thought you didn’t like those,” you say to alleviate the tension that you don’t understand.

“Well, Brando eats them,” Aegon explains.

“That makes sense.”

“And I guess they’re growing on me.”

“They’re really good for you,” you say. “Helps to balance out all the boneless spare ribs.”

Now Becca is studying you, and instead of being warm she is now cold and rigid and perplexed. After a while she asks stiffly: “What are you two up to today?”

“We’re going to the Flower District,” Aegon tells her as he rolls his gum wrapper into a ball between his palms. “I’ll be done in a few hours, I just have to get some current pics of her to send to people. So we’re going to do a quick impromptu photoshoot.”

Becca nods, still scrutinizing you. You open your Perrier and start gulping it so you have an excuse not to talk.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Aegon asks Becca, and she perks up a bit.

“Beef bourguignon. It’s a new recipe, I’m really excited to try it.”

Aegon pretends to drool. “Amazing. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Becca says, and goes to leave.

“It was so nice to meet you!” you call after her.

Becca replies curtly without stopping: “Yup. You too.” You hear the two-inch heels of her gold sandals tapping on the scuffed wood floor and then the rough opening and closing of the front door of the half-duplex.

“What just happened?” you ask Aegon.

“Nothing,” he says, standing from his desk. His shoes match his shirt, a green plaid Ralph Lauren button-up that isn’t tucked into his jeans. His hair is slicked back and shiny with gel.

“I’m sorry, did I…did I do something wrong…?”

He sighs. “No.”

You toy anxiously with your Perrier bottle. You don’t want Aegon to fire you; you don’t want to lose him. He’s the only person who understands. “You should have told me we were going to be taking pictures. I would have done my hair and worn normal eyeshadow.”

He smiles. “I wanted you to look like you.” Then he heads off to his Chrysler Sebring, and you follow him.

The Flower District is on the other side of Chinatown in Downtown Los Angeles. It’s the largest wholesale flower market in the country, six blocks of vendors selling every plant imaginable, from ordinary daisies and tulips to bamboo shoots, ferns, herbs, cactuses, succulents, baby trees, house plants like monstera and ivy. The aroma is overwhelming; when you breathe deeply, you imagine prismatic blossoms bursting up through the alveoli of your lungs, roses and irises and calla lilies and orchids. Aegon weaves through the aisles and frowns at the magnificent flowers, none of them right for some reason. You are endlessly pausing to sniff petals and gingerly graze your fingerprints over leaves. Aegon has to backtrack to find you when you stop to watch a demonstration of a Venus flytrap being fed.

“Here we go!” Aegon announces triumphantly when at last he is satisfied, and he lifts the large bouquet from a plastic bucket for you to see: massive sunflowers, water dripping off the cut stems. “They’re sunny, just like you. You like them?”

“I love them,” you say, taking the bouquet and beaming. Aegon pays in cash.

Outside under the harsh cloudless sunlight, he poses you in front of one of the flower shops, pedestrians walking behind you and a rainbow myriad of blooms out of focus. He uses his phone to take a series of photos, some up-close and some full-body shots, and you had assumed it would be awkward but it’s not, Aegon is making jokes and you are laughing and trying weird angles and spinning around so the skirt of your sundress swishes despite the lack of a breeze.

“Cool, got some good ones,” Aegon says, scanning through his phone. “We’re done.”

“What should I do with these?” you ask about the sunflowers. “Do you want them back?”

“Why would I want them back?”

“I don’t know. You paid for them, it feels weird for me to keep them.”

“They’re yours. Enjoy.”

You inhale the faint floral scent that emanates from the yellow petals. “I’m going to put them in a vase on the kitchen counter and buy them flower food so they live as long as possible. And I’m going to talk to them, because that’s supposed to be good for plants.”

Aegon chuckles. “You are ridiculous.” He slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans and sees an ice cream vendor up the street, then gestures for you to come with him. The ice cream is allegedly homemade and only comes in five flavors. Aegon orders for you both. “Hi, one vanilla and one strawberry.”

The vendor scoops the ice cream into two waffle cones. Again, as he always does, Aegon pays in cash. You locate an available bench and you and Aegon sit together with the sunflower bouquet lying between you, watching the pedestrians stroll by with their friends and partners and children and dogs.

“Tastes better when you make it,” Aegon says, licking melting strawberry ice cream from his waffle cone. “I might have another job for you.”

“Really?! Yay!”

“It’s a little unorthodox, but you said you’d take anything.”

“I definitely will.”

“It’s a music video for Maroon 5,” Aegon cautions. “It’s honestly pretty uninspiring and stupid, but it’s work. It’s another last-minute thing, at first the girlfriend of one of the band dudes was supposed to be in the video but I guess now they’re fighting all the time and the guy doesn’t like the idea of having a permanent reminder of her if they break up, which seems likely.’”

“I want to do it,” you say immediately. “When?”

“They’re planning to film the first week in July at a mansion in Beverly Hills. They already have a male actor cast. And you don’t even have to kiss him or anything, you get to argue with him in the first scene and then the rest of it is mostly you just moping around the mansion in designer outfits. Again, it’s super unoriginal. Boy and girl have a miscommunication and split, boy regrets it afterwards, they both secretly and photogenically yearn for each other. It’s very Edward leaving Bella in New Moon.”

“Sounds fantastic! Do I get to meet Maroon 5?”

Aegon is disappointed. “Are you a fan?”

“Well…not really.” You both laugh. “But I feel like it’s always cool to meet celebrities in real life.”

“Yes, you get to meet them.”

You cheer. “You are the most talented agent ever!” You take a lick of your ice cream; it’s almost gone now. You look over at Aegon, serious now. “You’re the only person who doesn’t think I’m absolutely insane for trying to do this.”

He crunches his waffle cone with his teeth. “Your roommate’s an actress, right? She must get it.”

You shrug. “Baela is confident, and magnetic, and she wants to be famous. She’s very obviously meant to be in this industry, and agents and directors respond to her. But I’m not like that. Most people don’t notice me. And that’s okay, I don’t really want to be famous. I just want to be able to be a working actor and get to stay here. If I’m not making significant progress by the end of the year, I have to choose between going back to Minnesota or being disowned and impoverished.”

Aegon watches you, thoughtful, maybe a little sad. “I like you the way you are, sunshine.”

You smile shyly at him. “Thanks. I like you too.”

“And I don’t want you to change. It’s horrible to watch someone disappear.” He devours the rest of his waffle cone. “You know…I think helping you get to where you’re going, and making sure it’s done the right way…that will be the last good thing I ever do here.”

“You don’t have to retire.”

He shakes his head. “Circumstances change. Priorities change.”

“Do you want kids?” If Becca is in her thirties, perhaps now is the time to start planning for that.

“No,” Aegon says, flinching. “Definitely no kids. You’re anti-horse, I’m anti-kid.”

“Then what’s the rush to leave L.A.?”

“It’s the right time.”

“Not for me.” You grin. “I just got here. You can’t abandon me yet.”

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of before I go. I’ll get someone I trust to sign you.”

“But I don’t want another agent.”

“The music video director asked to meet you before filming,” Aegon says, deflecting. “It’ll be quick, just ten or fifteen minutes. We’ll swing by his office on the way back to Elysian Park.”

“Okay,” you agree. You take a makeup compact out of your Patricia Nash purse and use the mirror to make sure you don’t have any ice cream on your nose or chin.

“I haven’t worked with him before,” Aegon says. “But I’ve heard very good things and obviously I’ll be there at the shoot.”

You snap your compact shut. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

In a spacious, glass-walled office in Downtown, the director introduces himself as Dan Sacco. He is tall and broad through the shoulders and extremely welcoming, offering you drinks and snacks and asking about your hometown as Aegon stands in the corner of the room, his hands in his pockets and his eyes watchful. Two jobs in two weeks; Aegon is a miracle worker.

When you get home to your apartment, it’s empty. Baela and Jace must have gone out somewhere for dinner. You put the sunflowers in a vase and then scroll through Instagram. Aegon has posted a new story: a photo of you standing with your bouquet and smiling, not sexy or alluring or arrogant but simply happy, and he must be very knowledgeable about filters because you think you look great.

Future Hollywood Walk of Fame star recipient, Aegon has added as a caption. If you want to book her, you know where to find me. He finished with a sunflower emoji. You press the heart button in the bottom right corner of the screen to like the story. Your own heart is racing now in the best way possible, feverish and loud, intoxicated, needful, seams ready to rupture.

You look up Becca’s Instagram, but her account is private. You send her a follow request. She doesn’t accept it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The night before the shoot, there is a knock at your door. It’s 8:30 p.m., a strange hour, not early enough for Amazon deliveries or a visit from one of Jace’s eccentric PhD program friends, not late enough for a drunk tenant to have mistaken your apartment for their own. When you open the door, you are at first so shocked you can’t place him. Then you remember where you know the hulking man in the tan suit from. It’s Dan, the director of the music video.

“Oh my God, hi!” you welcome him. You have just gotten home from Cold Stone Creamery and are still in your drab grey uniform. You always drive to and from work now, per Aegon’s insistence. You promised you’d listen, and you’re trying your best. Jace is in Baela’s bedroom banging on his Yamaha keyboard. From the velvet orange couch in the living room where she is watching The Vampire Diaries, Baela peeks curiously over at where your visitor fills up the doorway.

Dan seems pleased by your enthusiasm. “Hello again.”

“Can I help you with something? I know the shoot is tomorrow, I’m really excited. I was about to get ready for bed so I can go to sleep early and be well-rested. There’s not a problem with the music video, is there? Please don’t say it’s cancelled or that I’m fired or something.”

Dan chuckles, a deep slow rumble. “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to give you a heads up that we added a scene to the script.” He holds up a thin packet of papers held together by a single staple. “I’m not allowed to leave it in an unsecured location, so I have to take it with me when I go. But I thought you should be aware so you’re prepared when you show up to set.”

“Aw, that’s so thoughtful of you!” You take the packet and flip through it, skimming for an unfamiliar scene. “Did you get my address from Aegon? Or Brandon, his receptionist?”

“It was in your file that they sent over,” Dan says, perhaps a bit guardedly, and before you can ask anything else you stumble upon the scene, and your stomach drops. The actress—me, you think, that’s not some other woman, that’s me—will be lying in a vast empty bathtub, soaked hair, dripping skin, black lingerie, writhing and whimpering as she mourns the loss of her lover.

“Um…the bathtub scene?” you squeak.

“It’s going to be so cinematic,” Dan says, his large hands painting a picture with dramatic gestures. “Sunlight streaming in through a window, your skin glowing, you’ve drained the tub but you’re too heartbroken to get up so you’re just sprawled there, still drenched from the bathwater. Obviously it would make more sense if you were naked, but…we can’t do that in a music video.” He laughs. “But the aesthetic will be divine, like sexy mourning widow. And we’ll get all kinds of shots, you crying, you angry, you pining, you flirting and beckoning the camera closer, and we can get creative, you can just kind of crawl around all over the tub and we’ll see what you come up with.”

You gaze at the script until all the words vanish, imaging a room full of men watching you roll around in underwear, black lace wet and clinging to your skin, no secrets, nowhere to disappear. I can’t do that. But you can’t say no. “Is there going to be a woman on set to…you know, to…like…supervise, or, or something…?”

“You mean an intimacy coordinator?”

“Yes, thank you, that’s the term I was looking for.” Does Aegon know about this? He has to, right?

“Well, it’s not a sex scene,” Dan says rationally. “It’s not even a kissing scene. So we would never pay to have an intimacy coordinator around for this, it’s completely unnecessary.”

“Oh.” I can’t do that. I can’t do that. You feel nauseous; you feel dizzy, like you might stagger if you try to move.

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable, that’s totally cool,” Dan says. “I get it, a job like this isn’t for everyone. I have a list of backups I can call, and I can find somebody else—”

“No!” you cry out, then give the script back to Dan and manage a smile. “No, sorry, I was just a little confused, but I understand now. Thank you for letting me know about the new scene, and I can absolutely handle it.”

“Great.” He grins proudly. “I knew I could count on you. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

Dan lumbers down the hallway, and you close the door when he’s out of sight. Baela asks from the couch: “What do they want you to do?”

You swallow noisily. “Roll around essentially naked in a bathtub.”

Baela nods; she doesn’t seem alarmed. Is this normal? Are you unreasonable? “Bikini?”

“Lingerie.”

“Want to know a trick?” she says. “After you shave, run a Stridex pad over your skin. I have a container of them in the bathroom cabinet, use as many as you want. It’ll burn at first, but it kills any bacteria and prevent razor burn. No bumps or ingrown hairs!”

“Thanks,” you reply weakly.

Baela squints at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” A lie.

“It’s not that bad,” she says reassuringly. “I know it seems like the end of the world, but once you do a nude scene or a sex scene once, the nerves go away and it’s just another day at work. You’ll get through it. You’ll do an incredible job.”

I don’t want to give up the dream. I don’t want to leave Los Angeles. I don’t want to leave Aegon.

“You’re probably right,” you tell Baela, and you pretend to be fine so she won’t worry, or pity you, or be further convinced that you don’t belong here.

You shower, shave, scrub your skin with stinging Stridex pads, and long after you were supposed to be asleep you’re still staring up at your bedroom ceiling, a deep blue shadowscape with no stars.

[goldfades]

oooo crashout couple idea!!!! luka and reader celebrating libertys first win?????

i think this is my new fav "series", should i make a masterlist cause i have so many fics coming for it<333

The buzzer sounds, echoing through the packed arena, and the moment it does, it’s like the whole world bursts open.

The scoreboard lights up—final score, Liberty on top.

You barely have time to process it before your teammates crash into you, arms wrapping around you, shouts filling your ears. The crowd is roaring, the energy electric, but somehow, through all of it, you only hear one voice.

Luka’s.

You turn instinctively, eyes scanning the courtside seats, and there he is—on his feet, fists clenched, yelling like he just won the damn championship himself.

“LET’S GO, BABY!”

The cameras are already on him—because of course they are. He’s in your jersey, the one he insisted on wearing even though it’s slightly too snug across his broad shoulders, and he looks like he might just sprint onto the court himself.

You swear he nearly does. Security shifts, like they’re anticipating it.

You huff out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. Menace.

But he’s your menace.

And when your eyes meet across the court, Luka doesn’t just give you some polite, sportsmanlike nod.

No, he grins.

Big, wild, unfiltered.

The kind of grin that says, Yeah, I’m in love with you, and what about it?

And just like that, you don’t care about the cameras. You don’t care about the reporters already scribbling down notes about the Crash Out Couple and whatever chaos you’re about to bring to post-game.

All you care about is him.

And the way he’s looking at you like you just hung the damn moon.

--

Dinner is loud.

Your whole team is buzzing—high off the win, high off the adrenaline, high off the satisfaction of shutting down everyone who thought the Liberty were about to fold under pressure.

The restaurant is one of those dimly lit, upscale-but-still-lively places in the city where athletes and celebrities go to celebrate without completely being left alone. The air is thick with the scent of grilled steak and garlic butter, plates clinking, glasses being refilled before they even have a chance to empty.

And in the middle of it all, sitting next to you with his hand on your thigh like he needs to be touching you at all times, is Luka.

He’s trying—he really is.

He’s leaning in when your teammates talk, nodding at the right moments, even throwing in a couple of mhms and yeah, that’s crazy in an attempt to keep up with the fast-paced conversation.

But he’s outnumbered.

Badly.

At one point, Sabrina and Jonquel get into a heated discussion about defensive rotations, and you watch Luka’s brain short-circuit in real-time. He’s a franchise player, a basketball genius, but for some reason, this—being surrounded by a table full of hyper-competitive, opinionated, no-nonsense WNBA stars—is the thing that has him sweating.

You press your lips together, hiding your grin behind the rim of your wine glass.

It’s adorable.

This is the same man who drops 40-point triple-doubles like they’re nothing, who talks so much trash on the court it should be illegal, who once got into a screaming match with a ref in three different languages.

And yet, right now?

Right now, he’s nervously swirling the ice in his drink, completely unsure how to insert himself into the chaos.

Sabrina side-eyes him. “Luka, what do you think?”

Luka freezes, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. “Huh?”

The table erupts in laughter.

You feel him exhale, his head dropping slightly, and it kills you how cute it is.

You pat his cheek, barely suppressing your amusement. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to keep up.”

He groans, tilting his head back dramatically. “Man, I’m trying.”

The teasing doesn’t let up after that.

Your teammates love this—getting to rattle Luka Dončić a little, reminding him that, despite all the MVP chatter and franchise player status, here, he’s just your boyfriend.

And Luka takes it, shaking his head, smirking, playing along even though you can tell he’s still a little overwhelmed.

But one thing about your man?

No matter where he is, no matter who’s around—he’s always going to have his hands on you.

Throughout dinner, his touch never leaves you.

His palm on your thigh, fingers tracing mindless patterns. His hand drifting up to squeeze your waist when you shift in your seat. His thumb brushing over your knuckles when he takes your hand in his. At one point, he rests his elbow on the back of your chair, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, absentminded but so possessive.

And every time your teammates try to clown him, every time they tease him about being too quiet, about being so in love it’s making him shy, Luka just shrugs.

Like he knows.

Like he doesn’t care.

Like he’s completely fine with all of them seeing the way he needs to be close to you.

Like he’s saying, Yeah, I’m in love with her. And?

And honestly?

You love it.

[eclipixels]

Literally love your page, like seeing your fic is a immediately read!!!!!! Idk if you do request or not so ignore it if you want

Can you do like Isagi x reader where there like going on a date, and some fans stop them to take pictures with them but one of the fans let slip they like reader more cause she their favorite WAG or something like that, thank you in advance!!!!!<3

Your fans?

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

[1,563 words]

      You two had always made time for dates, no matter how hectic life became. Ever since your relationship turned serious, prioritizing each other had been an unspoken promise. No matter how grueling Isagi’s training got or how deep you found yourself buried in your personal research projects, you both carved out moments just for the two of you. Those moments had once been frequent. Late-night strolls, cozy café visits, spontaneous weekend getaways, but lately, they have become frustratingly scarce.

      Between Isagi’s ever-demanding soccer career and your growing recognition in your respective field, finding time together was beginning to feel like a luxury rather than a routine. You had earned a reputation for yourself at a remarkably young age, and Isagi’s talent had propelled him into the spotlight more than ever. It was exhilarating, yet exhausting.

      And when you finally did find the time to go on a date, it hardly felt like one anymore. The quiet, intimate moments you craved were constantly interrupted by eager fans. At first, you didn’t mind. It was sweet seeing little kids approach Isagi, their eyes brimming with admiration, their excitement barely contained as they asked for autographs or a quick picture. Those moments warmed your heart, knowing how much he inspired them.

      But the fangirls… the relentless, wide-eyed admirers who seemed to forget you even existed—those were starting to wear on you. The way they giggled, clung to every word he spoke, and completely disregarded the fact that he was clearly on a date made your patience run thin. And the older fans, the ones who treated him like a celebrity first and a person second, weren’t much better. It was draining, watching your time with him slip away bit by bit, stolen by people who didn’t understand how rare these moments were for you.

      You never wanted to resent his success. You were proud of him, so incredibly proud. But sometimes, you wished you could go back to when it was just the two of you, uninterrupted and unbothered. Was that such a bad thing to want?

      "Y/N-channn!" Isagi came bursting in through the door.

      "Ichi, what the hell?!" you yelped.

      "What?" he asked, blinking innocently.

      "Ever heard of knocking? I could've been naked!"

      "You say that like it’s a bad thing." His lips curled into a smirk.

      You shot him a glare, and he laughed before changing the subject. "Anyway, why aren’t you ready yet?"

      "For what?"

      "Our date!"

      "When did we plan that?" You asked, not that you were complaining. You hadn’t been on one in awhile.

      "Right now," he grinned, completely unbothered. "Go get ready!"

      You stared at him, waiting expectantly. He stared back. Is he stupid?

      “So you gonna change or…?” He finally spoke, coughing awkwardly.

      "With you in here?" You looked at him with bewilderment. Since when did he get so bold?

      “Yeah.”

      "I’m not stripping while your perverted ass is staring."

      "Nothing I haven’t seen before," he shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief.

      "Out!" You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at the thirsty man. “You fien”

      He dodged, laughing as he backed toward the door. "Only for you, love!"

      You shut the door behind him, shaking your head with a small smile.

      -

      The evening air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of city life as you and Isagi strolled through the streets, hand in hand. The glow of streetlights bathed the pavement in a warm, golden hue, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor filled the air. It was peaceful, just the two of you, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. These were the moments you cherished most. The quiet, stolen fragments of normalcy. Laughter bubbled up between you two as your dorky boyfriend spouted some random nonsense he knew would make you laugh. It was sweet, the way he was so tentative towards you.

      But that tranquility didn’t last for long.

      You felt it before it even happened. Familiar, lingering glances from a small group of middle schoolers standing nearby. Their hushed whispers, barely concealed excitement, and the way they kept shifting their gaze toward Isagi made it all too clear. You sighed inwardly, already knowing what was coming.

      Sure enough, three of them finally gathered the courage to approach. Their steps were hesitant at first, their hands fidgeting at their sides. One of the kids, probably the boldest of the group, cleared their throat before speaking.

      “U-um… excuse me! You’re—You’re Isagi Yoichi, right?” Their voice wavered between nervousness and awe, their friends standing just behind, eyes wide with anticipation.

      You stole a glance at Isagi, who offered them a small, friendly smile.

      And as much as you wanted to be patient, to remind yourself that these were just people who admired him, you couldn’t ignore the twinge of irritation settling in your chest. Your time with him was so limited, and yet, even now, it wasn’t truly yours.

      "Can we take a picture? We're really big fans!"

      You sighed, prepared for the routine of Isagi smiling for the camera while you played photographer. But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of handing you the phone, they positioned themselves between both of you. You blinked. They wanted a picture with you, too? Isagi and you, not just him.

      Your boyfriend grinned as he wrapped an arm around you, all too amused by your shocked expression. You managed to smile for the camera, still processing the fact that, for once, you weren’t forgotten.

      Then, to your even greater surprise, one of the middle schoolers turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. "C-Can I get a picture with just you, L/n-san?"

      Your jaw nearly dropped.

      "Huh? Me?"

      "Yes! You're so cool!" they beamed before handing the phone over to Isagi to take the picture.

      Your face went hot. Isagi, meanwhile, couldn’t help the fireworks in his heart at the sight of your expression. The way your eyebrows were raised, your cheeks flushed and your eyes all wide and doey. You looked like the epitome of the expression, ‘deer in headlights’.

      You tried to regain your composure, posing for the picture.

      The middle schooler grinned, clutching their phone like it held the most precious treasure. "You're so smart and pretty, and you and Isagi are, like, goals!"

      Isagi chuckled under his breath, watching as your flustered expression deepened. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, a silent reassurance as you blinked in surprise at the unexpected compliment. You weren’t used to being recognized, at least not in this way. It was always about Isagi, about his incredible skills on the field, his rising fame, his career. But to hear someone acknowledge you, your intelligence, your looks, and your relationship caught you completely off guard.

      “You follow my work?” you stammered, blinking at the middle schooler, who grinned and clutched their phone like it was holding the most precious treasure.

      “Of course!” they chirped. “Your research is so cool! I read that article you posted last month—well, I didn’t understand all of it, but it was still amazing! And your social media posts? Super inspiring! You’re always sharing interesting stuff, and the way you talk about your work is just—ahhh, so cool! You’re, like, super talented!”

      Your lips parted, struggling to find the right words. “Oh! Thank you!” you finally managed, offering them a small, bashful smile.

      The kid practically beamed, rocking on their heels as they stared up at the two of you with starry-eyed admiration. “Seriously, you guys are amazing!”

      “It was nice meeting you, bye!” They said before running back to where they were, giggling.

      You watched them go, their excitement still bubbling over as they rejoined their friends. A small smile tugged at your lips. Despite the initial interruption, you had to admit, it wasn’t the worst encounter.

      Isagi let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to you with an amused grin. “See? You’re famous too,” he teased.

      You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth in your expression. “Hardly. But… it was kind of nice,” you admitted, glancing down at your intertwined hands. “I’m just not used to it. People always recognize you, not me.”

      Isagi tilted his head slightly, squeezing your hand before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Well, they should. You work just as hard if not more.”

      Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away the remnants of your earlier frustration. He always had this way of making you feel valued, of reminding you that your work, your passion, that you were just as important as everything else.

      No—you were the most important to him. You just didn’t notice it. You didn’t see the way he’d always steal glances at you, the way he needed to constantly be touching at least some part of you, the way he needed at least (if not more) a kiss a day, the way he needed to hear your voice just to get through the week, the way he just needed you.

      You sighed, leaning into him slightly as you resumed walking. Isagi hummed softly, draping an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close once again. You smiled, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. Even if the world would always pull at him, demanding his time and attention, it all belonged to you.

[jjkamochoso]

💌Valentine’s Day 2025 Event💘

Event masterlist

🍰 with Nanami Kento for @riddle-me-ri

Your ask was so sweet!!! Thank you for the kindness🥹❤️ I hope you love this!!

Nanami was stressed.

His normally organized kitchen apartment was a total catastrophe: pans scattered everywhere, bowls with multiple colored icings lay dormant, the piping bags oozing leftover topping onto the counter. Glancing at the clock, he saw he only had about 10 minutes before you arrived to your Valentine’s Day surprise, the surprise being the cake he had made you by scratch, not the disgusting mess of a kitchen he left behind in his quest for perfection.

Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he let out an exasperated sigh. The cake was gorgeous, sure, but its beauty was marred by its background.

He had to clean up, stat.

Before he could put a single dish into the sink, he heard a knock at the door. Frantic, he began piling up as many dishes as he could fit in his arms before dumping them into the sink to be taken care of later.

“Kento honey? Is everything alright?” he heard you call out.

“Yes! Be right there!” he answered, moving quickly. He then registered the sound of the door lock clicking; you were using the key he had given you.

“You sounded out of breath so I wanted to see what I could help with,” you said sweetly, putting down the bouquet of flowers and bottle of wine you held. Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity as you peeked behind him. “I think I found it.”

Nanami’s face was coated in an embarrassed blush. “Y/n, darling, I didn’t want you to walk into such a mess. I’m so sorry to have ruined your evening-”

“Kento,” you replied, placing a loving hand on his cheek, “it’s really no big deal! You’re so hard on yourself for no reason. Whatever you made, I’m sure it’s amazing, considering how much hard work it looks like you went through to make it.”

He took a deep breath. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do, my love,” you responded. “Let’s clean up and then celebrate, yeah?”

“That sounds nice.” His lips met yours as he placed his hands lovingly on your waist, melting into your touch. “Actually, why don’t we celebrate first and clean later?”

You had no qualms about that!

[joocomics]

1k followers celebration event — ⌞⌗ xdh drabble⌝

𓂃⠀𓈒 hyeongjun x fem!reader

genre: smut ( 18+ ) wc: 0.8

request: “people who’re just friends don’t do shit like this, and you know it”

contains: sub!reader, oral sex (f!rec), overstimulation (f!rec), oral fixation, multiple orgasms (f!rec), dirty talk, pet names, temperature play (ice), hair pulling (m!rec), inspired by this post of mine

[ event masterlist | xdinary heroes masterlist ]

Neither of you thought that the night was going to continue like this.

At your place, just the two of you. Bodies pressing into one another with desire to feel the other’s warm skin, because as it turns out, that’s what both of you have been secretly craving ever since you got introduced to each other.

Not even a minute has passed since you said goodbye to your friends and Hyeongjun was already settled between your legs, groaning against your heat - there was a feeling of relief that overflowed his chest from finally being able to taste you. It felt good and he expressed his satisfaction by little moans which made you tingle and bite your lips.

They still do, because he keeps going…

“Fuck, I love it!” Hyeongjun gazes down at your cunt after spitting what he just slurped from your arousal. “Your pussy is so fuckin' sweet, baby, I just can't stop.” He runs his tongue along his shiny lips, pushing two of his slim fingers through your walls; they're warm and soaked from the orgasms that already passed through your body. “Close?”

“Shit—“ you squirm once he leans down to attach the tip of his tongue onto your sensitive clit; his eyes are hazy from the rush when they shoot you a look of anticipation. “Yeah, really close, please don’t tease!” Your hand hurries to grip on his hair. “So fuckin’ close—“

Your hips buck up and Hyeongjun instantly gets the message - his both hands grasp your thighs so he can focus on using his entire mouth again without interruptions.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I’m gonna—“

As the familiar wave of intense pleasure washes over you, Hyeongjun strengthens his grip, though he wouldn’t mind having your thighs close around him and keeping him there - face pressed against your slick folds as his mouth memorises your flavour till he has trouble breathing.

His warm panting fades away once he lifts up, smacking your hip with a perky grin on his face. Not in an obnoxious way, but more so in a delightful one, showing how much he’s genuinely enjoying understanding your body.

“I want to help you out now.” Observing the evident tent in his pants you deliberately run your hand along his leg.

You watch him suck on his fingers, cleaning them up from your essence, then pick up his drink from the floor to take a sip.

“Such an angel,” he chuckles silently before taking out the ice cube from his glass and placing it into his mouth.

Your own mouth waters at the idea of feeling some different parts of his body other than his lips. Especially when he removes his hoodie and throws it away, murmuring about being hot.

You get to brush your fingertips against his lower abdomen, then along the appealing shape of his boner that’s still trapped by his pants.

“You’ll have your turn, don’t worry about it,” he snickers softly after noticing your dreamy gaze fixated upon his lower half.

“I want my turn now,” you state almost in a whisper; a short moment before squealing at a sudden cold thrill.

You did see Hyeongjun directing the ice cube he was sucking on towards your pussy, but still... you did not expect it to be that cold.

“Aren’t you sweating?” He teases amused, immediately preventing you from crossing your legs.

“Yeah, but that’s too cold!” Your whining gradually turns into flustered laughter as he rubs the melting ice all over your puffy lips. He glides it into different directions before lightly pressing it onto your clit. “Holy fuck!”

“Relax, it’s gonna feel good,” he now invites his freezing fingers inside you; pleasant warmth immediately envelops them as he twirls them around, “stop whining and easen up your pussy for me, baby.”

Shuddering, you try to loosen up as much as you can, then shut your eyes, feeling his familiar tongue licking up your intimate lips as they drip with water.

Though you’re extra sensitive to his touch, you cannot ignore how his wet kisses grow a new type of sensation; one you can get used to.

“Hyeongjun, I—“

“You’re fine,” he whispers in a low, huskier voice as he notices how your highly stimulated body twitches. “I’m gonna shove it into your pretty cunt now.”

“What?” Your jaw drops.

“Oh, come on,” Hyeongjun’s slick lips curl mischievously, “be a good friend, let me slip it inside.”

“A good friend?” You look down at him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, isn't that what we are?” There’s a dark spark in his eye as his erotic tone drawns out the question. “Just two really good friends that know how to have fun.”

“People who are just friends don’t do shit like this and you know it.” You reply, drawning out the question the same way he did.

But instead of commenting, Hyeongjun looks away, pushing the cube through your entrance and causing you to yelp. He dives back into your pussy, controlling his tongue with an unfading appetite and commitment as the ice melts in the scorching heat of your walls.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[cozmowrites]

New Year's (2024)

"Hey- grab me a slice of that cake!" Ashido shouted at you as you told them you were off to grab a drink of alcohol or two from the table. Todoroki told everyone about a New Year's party to have a fun reunion between the two hero classes. Pro-heroes, sidekicks, or whatever they wanted to be, everyone was alive with energy, reaching its peak. Music boomed, laughter echoed, and the aroma of fancy hors d'oeuvres filled the air, something Todoroki bought into. Everyone had gathered to celebrate the end of the year, reconnecting after years of carving their individual paths.

You picked up two glasses of saké in one hand, casually chatting with Ashido as she takes the cake from your hands so you could carry both glasses on each hand. Despite the festive atmosphere, you couldn't help but notice one glaring absence. Kirishima had come up behind Ashido and scared her.

"Bakugou's missing," you muttered.

"Yeah," Kirishima laughed. "He's doing his lone wolf thing again, probably glaring at the stars or something."

Ashido rolled her eyes. "Classic Bakugou. Someone should drag him back here."

Without a second thought, you volunteered. "I'll go. I could use some fresh air anyway. Plus, I wanted to deliver this extra glass to him." You held it up and the both of them wished you good luck in finding him.

Leaving the chatter and music behind, you wandered through the hallways of the venue, not really knowing where anything is, until you found the staircase leading to the roof. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside. It was cold as fuck and you didn't think to bring your jacket or coat. There he was, leaning against the railing, his back turned to the door. His blond hair glinted in the faint glow of the city lights, and the skyline stretched endlessly before him.

"Thought I'd find you here," you said, approaching cautiously. He didn't turn, but his posture tensed slightly.

"What the hell do you want?" His voice was gruff. You were definitely bothering him, but that's what you do. Bother people and pry into their business.

You held up the glass of saké, even though he didn't look at you right away. "Figured you might need a drink."

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing before he sighed. "Fine." Taking the glass, he leaned back against the railing and stared out at the city.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't awkward; it was peaceful, broken only by the distant sound of music and laughter drifting up from below. You were cold and he took note of that, how the hairs stood up on your arm and the way the goosebumps formed almost immediately after. He hated that you tried to hide it and he shrugged off his jacket and placed it over your shoulders.

"Don't get sick." He grumbled quietly and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, immediately feeling warmer.

"Why are you out here?" You finally asked.

"Too noisy in there," he muttered, taking a sip of the saké. "Besides, it's not like anyone would miss me."

"That's not true," you replied softly, stepping closer. "Kirishima and Ashido were talking about you just now. They care about you, Bakugou. We all do."

"Tch." He looked away, but the faintest trace of a blush colored his cheeks.

You stood beside him, gazing out at the skyline. The countdown to midnight was getting closer, and the city seemed to buzz with anticipation. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how his usually harsh features softened under the moonlight.

"You're different, you know," you said suddenly.

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" He shot you a look as he took a drink of his saké.

"I mean you've mellowed out. A little. You're still grumpy, but you're also.. calmer. More thoughtful."

He scoffed, but you caught the flicker of embarrassment in his eyes. "Don't start getting weird on me."

"I'm just saying," you teased, nudging his arm gently.

A distant cheer erupted from below, signaling the final minute of the year. You both turned instinctively toward the noise, though neither of you made a move to join the others.

"Thirty seconds!" You heard someone shout from below, the sound faint but clear.

You turned back to Bakugou, a small smile playing on your lips. "Any resolutions for the new year?"

"No. Resolutions are stupid." He grumbled, though there was no real venom in his words.

"Fair enough," you laughed.

"Ten!"

The countdown was in full swing now, the voices growing louder. You felt a strange tension settle in the air, and when you looked at Bakugou again, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unreadable.

"Five!"

"What?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Four!"

He didn't answer. Instead, he set his glass down on the railing and stepped closer, his crimson eyes locked on yours.

"Three!"

Your heart pounded in your chest. Was he about to—? No, this was Bakugou. He'd never—

"Two!"

"Hey-" You started.

His hand brushed against yours, hesitant yet deliberate.

"One!"

Before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both firm and unexpectedly gentle. Your eyes widened in shock, but you didn't pull away. The kiss was brief, yet it sent your mind spinning, leaving you breathless when he finally pulled back.

"Happy New Year," he muttered, his cheeks a deep shade of red.

You stared at him, still stunned. As the cheers and party seems to get louder below, the rooftop seemed quiet and the city felt distant. It was just you and Bakugou now. "Did- did you just kiss me?"

"Yeah, I did," he said gruffly, avoiding your gaze. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," you said quickly, your heart racing. "Just.. I thought we were only friends. You.. made that pretty clear on graduation day."

He finally met your eyes, his expression softening. "Maybe I'm done pretending that's all we are."

For a moment, you were too stunned to speak. Then a slow smile spread across your face. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

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[atalana]

thinking about the wicked soundtrack again and how my partner (who hadn't listened to much of act 2 until recently) only just made the connection and i realise a lot of people may have not either, so another of my favourite little musical tricks in wicked!

in act 2 we get the wizard's song wonderful, where he runs into elphaba again and tries to get her back on his side

and it's a song that i can't wait to see jeff goldblum do bc honestly it feels like it was written for him

but most of it is his usual wizard blundering, in his usual fake humble but old timey grandiose style (the stuff that feels pulled straight out of a 1930s stage show that all of emerald city is based on), and it is not working

elphaba is not at all impressed by that now that she's seen what lies beneath it

but then his last couple of lines are the ones that almost work, and that's because he changes tactics entirely

and that bit goes "At long long last receive your due long overdue, Elphaba.../The most celebrated are the rehabilitated/There'll be such a whoop-de-doo/A celebration throughout Oz that's all to do with you"

and okay yeah the more obvious trick he's pulling is parroting the wizard and i back to her, reminding her of what she wanted originally

but there's something more important he's doing here!

because those first three lines? are also a melodic match for "Together we'll be the greatest team there's ever been, Glinda.../Dreams the way we planned 'em if we work in tandem/There's no fight we cannot win" (even down to the pause on the name)

and i love all of the focus the movie gave on morrible recognising that glinda was their best shot at getting elphaba back, because the wizard literally tries it again! he steals the melody from elphie almost managing to convince glinda to come with her, and glinda wanting so desperately to believe it's possible. because glinda is the only person who ever stood a chance of getting elphie on her side, because she was the only one ever on elphie's side

(but in both cases. an almost is still just an almost)